The Life And Times Of Alexei Efremov
A Soviet AAR
Chapter 1: Rivals
The Kremlin – March 1st, 1936
An uncomfortable silence pervaded the room, as seven of the most powerful men in the Soviet Union sat around the conference table, none daring to speak. Some shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. Others attempted to look casual as they glanced at timepieces. Time was precious to men of such importance, and it was obvious that most, if not all, were perturbed by the delay. Yet none dared speak a word.
The man seated near the head of the table, closest to the conspicuously empty chair, was Mikhail Kalinin, head of state of the Soviet Union. Though little more than a nominal title these days, Kalinin still attempted to play his role as best he could. He cleared his throat to gather the attention of the others.
“I am sure that Comrade Stalin will be along shortly, gentlemen. The delay is…”
Kalinin stopped in mid-sentence as the doors at the far end of the room opened and two men walked in. The first was Josef Stalin, undisputed leader of the Soviet Union, who showed no hint of remorse or concern for his tardiness. “The man of steel” made excuses to no one, a fact that all in the room were reminded of on a regular basis.
A step behind Stalin walked Genrikh Yagoda, the hawkish, mustached leader of the Peoples Commissariat for Internal Affairs (NKVD), who also showed no sign of apology. If Stalin was the most feared man now assembled in the conference room, Yagoda was a close second.
After both were seated, Stalin pulled a pipe from inside his jacket, casually filling and lighting it, making the assembly wait even longer. But now no one dared shift, glance at the time, or so much as mutter under their breath. After a puff from his pipe, Stalin motioned with the device to Kalinin that he should begin.
“We will begin with foreign relations. Minster Litvinov, if you would.”
Maksim Litvinov, Head of the Ministry of the People for Foreign Matters, stood to address the gathering, though he aimed himself and looked primarily at Stalin as he spoke.
“Comrades, I bring good tidings. It would appear as though we are no longer the pariah nation that we once were. The world has finally begun to value trade again with our glorious Union. Indeed, we have succeeded in negotiating new trade agreements with a number of countries which, in years past, would have very little to do with us. Aside from our previous agreements with Germany and our allies in Tannu Tuva, we are now sending large quantities of raw materials to Czechoslovakia, Bulgaria, Hungary, France, and Spain.”
Litvinov paused for a moment to allow this information to sink in, then continued.
“But in what I consider an even greater coup, we have negotiated two additional trade arrangements with the United States of America.”
A small gasp was heard from more than one of the attendees.
“It would appear,” Litvinov quipped, “that even the capitalist pigs in America have a great deal of greed for Russian raw materials.”
A few chuckles were heard and some of them men smiled, though Josef Stalin showed no signs of doing either. He removed his pipe from his mouth and spoke for the first time.
“And what are we getting in return? We’re not in the business of providing charity to capitalist dogs.”
The smiles quickly faded, but Litvinov, to his credit, seemed un-phased.
“In return, we’re satisfying the supply requirements of approximately 90 percent of our armed forces, comrade.”
Marshall Mikhail Tukhachevsky, commander of the Red Army, visibly stiffened at these words.
“That’s a lot of material, comrade,” Tukhachevsky stated firmly. You’re talking about food, ammunition, and other miscellany for over one hundred divisions. I sincerely hope you were able to negotiate favorable terms.”
“Our negotiations were fair, but it was actually the Spanish who offered us the best terms,” Litvinov replied. “The fact of the matter is, we’re trading away the majority of our daily surplus.”
“You’re trading away our strategic reserve?!?!” Tukhachevsky exploded. “What sort of madness is this?!?!”
“Calm yourself, Mikhail.” Stalin exhaled a plume of smoke towards the ceiling. “A strategic reserve is of little concern. Our industry has all that it requires right here within our own borders. We are completely self-sufficient when it comes to raw materials. We have no reason to stockpile.”
People’s Commissar Lazer Kaganovich interjected at this point.
“If I may, Comrade Stalin.” Stalin nodded, and the Armaments Minster turned his attention to Tukhachevsky. “These trade deals which Minister Litvinov has negotiated have freed up a considerable percentage of our industry for re-armament. This, in turn, has allowed us to increase the production of modern armaments, primarily for your infantry and artillery. Indeed, Marshall, just where did you think all of this new equipment was coming from?”
The room fell silent as Litvinov returned to his seat, doing his best to ignore the antagonistic stares he and Kaganovich were now receiving from the irritated Tukhachevsky. Stalin was the one to break the silence.
“Let’s move on.”
Kaganovich continued. “We’re also making strides on the technical side of things, continuing our efforts at modernization for our glorious union. The technicians at the Nizny Tagil Factories are making progress in the area of machining tools, and I’ve received word that the Charkov Factory Design Bureau has been doing a great deal of work on an adding machine. If this device performs to the level that they claim, it could be a great boon to our future research efforts.”
Kaganovich waited for a moment to see if there were any questions, then relaxed when it was clear that there were not.
Kalinin took his cue, and gestured to Marshall Kliment Voroshilov, seated to Tukhachensky’s left.
“We shall now turn towards military matters. Marshall Voroshilov, your report please?”
Voroshilov stood stiffly, casting a brief sideways glance at his fellow Marshall, then spoke.
“The modernization efforts for the Red Army are proceeding at a pace beyond our initial estimates, thanks in no small part to the valiant efforts of comrades Litvinov and Kaganovich. To date, twenty-four of our rifle divisions and six of our artillery brigades have been provided with fully modern equipment. At the current rate, we now estimate that the modernization efforts will be completed by the end of the year.”
“And what of the reorganization efforts,” Stalin inquired, his gaze now fixed on Voroshilov.
“The reorganization is nearly complete, Comrade Stalin. We have reinforced our borders and completed the creation of eleven military districts, as was discussed previously. Also, our motorized and armored divisions have been consolidated here in the west and organized into five shock armies. As we speak, those armies are now in transit to their posts along the western border.”
“Thank you, Comrade Voroshilov,” Stalin said. “Is there anything else?”
Tukhachevsky quickly stood.
“There is one other thing that should be brought to your attention, Comrades.”
Voroshilov bristled visibly at the interruption to his limelight, but said nothing and sat down. Marshall Tukhachevsky continued.
“There is a Lieutenant General by the name of Boris Shaposhnikov, currently in command of the thirty-sixth army in Stalingrad. I believe some of you had the opportunity to meet him in Leningrad last October. General Shaposhnikov has some interesting ideas that he is working on, which he refers to as a ‘Large Front Doctrine.’ His ideas have merit, and I’ve commissioned him to continue his work and to report to me directly on the results.”
“I should like to know more about this Shaposhnikov and his work,” Stalin said with a quick glance towards Yagoda. “Have a report in my hands by the end of the week.”
“Of course, Comrade Stalin.” Tukhachevsky saluted and sat down.
Mikhail Kalinin cleared his throat, then spoke.
“Next is the navy. Comrade Orlov, if you would please?”
Vladimir Orlov stood at the far end of the table, with the hints of a smile on his face as he began to speak. Long had the Navy taken a back seat under Soviet rule, but it appeared as though that was finally changing.
“I am happy to report that we have laid down keels for the first of the new Leningrad-class destroyers, and we should have the first vessels in the water and conducting training drills by summer. Also, the engineers at 61 Kommunara Nikolayev Shipyards are working diligently on a design for a new Battle Cruiser, with firepower greater than anything we can currently bring to bear.”
Orlov smiled, saluted Stalin, then sat, obviously quite pleased with himself. He did not notice Stalin stifle a yawn at the far end of the table.
“And now General Alksnis, with an update on our air assets,” Kalinin announced.
General Iakov Alksnis, the youngest man in the room by far, stood, but without the energy or cheery countenance of his naval counterpart. His speech was monotone, and seemed to drone in the ears of the attendees.
“Little news on the air front, comrades. The Barrikada Factory Design Bureau is making good progress on some heavier anti-aircraft guns, the first of which are being deployed in the area of Baku. That is all.”
Kalinin stood as Alksnis sat down.
“I believe that is all, comrades. Comrade Stalin and I thank you for your attendance and your continued diligence in your duties. You are excused.”
The men rapidly filed out of the room, Kalinin included, until only Stalin and Yagoda remained. A rare smile crept onto Stalin’s face as he turned to the head of the NKVD.
“An excellent idea, Genrikh, making them wait like that. I do so enjoy watching them squirm.”
“Thank you, comrade,” was Yagoda’s reply as he smiled as well.
“Now,” Stalin continued, “tell me more about this idea of yours for Berlin.”
