Life And Fate (Orange Inheritance)
6
The conversations of the Russian prisoners-of-war were particularly sad on the evening after the first snowfall. Even men as energetic and self-disciplined as Colonel Zlatokrylets and Brigade Commissar Osipov had fallen into a gloomy silence. Major Kirillov was sitting beside Mostovskoy; his shoulders were drooping and his head was nodding slowly up and down. The whole of his vast body seemed filled with melancholy. As for his dark eyes, they were like the eyes of someone with terminal cancer. Looking into such eyes, even a man’s nearest and dearest would hope that his sufferings would soon be over.
Pointing at Kirillov, the ubiquitous Kotikov whispered to Osipov: ‘Either he’s about to hang himself or he’s going to join up with Vlasov.’
Mostovskoy rubbed the grey stubble on his cheeks and said: ‘Listen, cossacks! Everything’s fine! Can’t you see that? Every day that the State created by Lenin continues to exist is a death-blow to Fascism. Fascism has no choice: it must either destroy us or perish. The hatred Fascism bears us is yet another proof – a far-reaching proof – of the justice of Lenin’s cause. The more the Fascists hate us, the more certain we can be of our own rightness . . . And in the end we will defeat them.’
He turned to Kirillov.
‘What’s the matter with you? Don’t you remember that story of Gorky’s? How he was walking up and down the prison courtyard and a Georgian shouted out: “Hold your head up! You look like a bedraggled chicken!”’
Everyone burst out laughing.
‘And he was quite right! We must hold our heads high! Just think – the Soviet State is defending the ideals of Communism! Do you think Hitler can get the better of that . . . ? Stalingrad is still holding out. It may have seemed before the war that we were going too far, that we had really tightened the screws . . . But now even a blind man can see that the end justifies the means.’
‘We certainly did tighten the screws,’ said Yershov. ‘That’s for sure.’
‘We didn’t tighten them enough,’ said General Gudz. ‘We should have gone further still. Then Hitler wouldn’t have reached the Volga.’
‘It’s not for us to give lessons to Stalin,’ said Osipov.
‘True enough,’ said Mostovskoy. ‘And if we perish in prisons or damp mines, then that’s that. We must just think of something else.’
‘Such as?’ asked Yershov loudly.
Everyone exchanged glances, looked away again and fell silent.
‘Oh Kirillov! Kirillov!’ said Yershov abruptly. ‘The old man’s quite right. We should rejoice that the Fascists hate us. We hate them and they hate us. Right? But just imagine being sent to a Russian camp! That really would be hard. But as for this . . . ! We’re stout-hearted lads! We’ll give the Germans a run for their money!’