Churchill, with a sense for the dramatic, refilled his own glass and resumed his seat, all to a backdrop of loaded silence.
They needed no introductions, either to the Prime Minister, or to each other.
They represented the very top of their professions, military men in the service of His Majesty.
Admiral of the Fleet and First Sea Lord Sir John Henry Dacres Cunningham enjoyed an excellent professional and personal relationship with the Commander in Chief of the RAF, Air Chief Marshall Sir Charles Portal, 1st Viscount Portal of Hungerford, provided that the subject of Coastal Command was not raised, in which case they would fight for overseeing rights long into the night.
Both in turn had great respect for Alan Francis Brooke, 1st Viscount Alanbrooke, Field Marshal, and Chief of the Imperial General Staff, although the subject of an Army Air Force would spike Portal into reaction, and naval and marine amphibious forces was always guaranteed to make any meeting between Cunningham and Alanbrooke quite lively.
The three men turned their heads simultaneously, without a cue, and examined the fourth member present, a man with whom they had all had issues of varying subject matter, mainly caused by a combination of the man’s abrasive manner, almost dismissive approach to opinions not wholly in support of his own, and total faith in himself.
Alanbrooke, in particular, had fielded more of the man’s issues than most, and had been forced to placate more than one important ally, who had received a taste of the man’s lack of tact.
“Thank you all for coming at such short notice.”
Churchill turned to the fourth man.
“And I hope that you are fully recovered?”
“I am, Prime Minister, thank you.”
Field-Marshal Sir Bernard Law Montgomery, recently created as 1st Viscount Montgomery of Alamein, settled back in his chair, wondering why he was present in such august company, but already imagining himself at the head of some huge enterprise, his natural place, given his undoubted superior abilities.
Churchill outlined the present political situation, adding in most of the matters recently discussed with Truman.
He wound up his delivery of the facts, moving them quickly into the area of resolution.
“So, as you can see, gentlemen, we have a singularly unpalatable set of choices. So, unless you can see another alternative that satisfies the aims and desires of His Majesty’s Government and his allies, this is what it is proposed to do.”
The meeting had opened with a briefing on the military situation in Europe, which had stabilised beyond hope.
The Allied armies constantly pushed and jostled, but there was no power, no great plan to their efforts. Almost as if it were fighting just to keep matters going whilst some other issue was resolved.
The Allied Air Forces were a constant thorn, but reducing the size of depots, moving more by night than day, and increasing AA defences, had all had an effect.
However, there was no disguising railway lines and huge bridges, so the infrastructure still suffered on a daily basis.
The increasing use of sunken bridges had helped greatly, but the supplies reaching the front line were still just about half of what would be needed if everything took off again.
None the less, the Military briefing, given by Malinin, was positive and upbeat.
The situation in the Far East was another matter, and some good units were to be sacrificed, as it was impossible to bring them back into Soviet-controlled territory before they would be overwhelmed by the victorious Chinese and Allied mainland troops.
However, connections with the Communist Chinese ensured that the rivalries of old would flare up again, and maintain confusion and instability in the region.
Handing over a much of their heavy equipment as possible, the Soviet units hoped to save as many of their qualified soldiers as possible.
The pledging of total support from numerous Japanese units who simply refused to surrender, increased the forces available to the Far Eastern Command.
The briefing ended with a victory, albeit an airborne one.
Soviet fighters had successfully intercepted a force of US bombers, en route from their bases in China to bomb something in the hinterland of the USSR.
Heavy losses, claimed to be over 25% of the enemy aircraft, were claimed by jubilant Red Air Force pilots, and, for the first time in memory, an enemy bomber force withdrew without reaching its intended target.
There was no hint of any US-led seaborne invasion, nor much possibility of anything of note of an offensive nature being constructed on the mainland borders of the Eastern USSR. Which meant that Soviet forces in the area could recover and make their own plans to tie in with the aims of Vasilevsky’s targeting of US forces.
The increased feelings of optimism were bolstered further, by reports of events in the Ukraine, where nationalist resistance was weakening, assisted by the spread of hunger, as supplies dwindled and the agriculture suffered, frequently falling victim to the torch or similar deliberate destruction.
The projections of a poor harvest would be made more certain by positive interaction from the reformed POW units.
The Ukraine was becoming less of a problem, hour by hour.
And then there was the political instability in the Allied ranks. Plus, the Italian government agitating and criticising, the low-key condemnation of the Soviet incursion into their territory now completely forgotten in open hostility to the Allied presence in their lands, all thanks to a few well-placed sympathisers in their government.
Beria was beaming for ear to ear.
Stalin was as happy as a man could be.
The NKVD report lay unopened in front of the General Secretary, Beria being so anxious to pass on the latest news that he had recited it virtually word for word, pausing only to slake his thirst with tea.
The report was a gift from the god that neither believed in.
Mayhem, pure and simple, was assaulting the political leaderships of the united Allied nations, a group that, according to the reports emanating from agents, as well as free press sources, was becoming less united with every passing hour.
In an unlike-Beria fashion, the NKVD Marshal had not claimed the glory all for himself, conceding that there was a very real desire to sue for peace, stop using atomic weapons, and bring the soldiers home, even in the nations that had only a nominal role in the fighting.
Stalin could only imagine the pressures mounting on the politicians.
He chuckled.
He laughed.
He was unaware that the NKVD report deliberately understated the larger movement in America, the one that sought full and immediate prosecution of war with use of the bombs and everything that entailed.
Reaching out, he picked up a written report from Vasilevsky, one that had landed on his desk that very morning, the commander in chief’s own addition to Malinin’s presentation.
He wasn’t so stupid as to offer it to Beria, he merely showed the front cover.
“I take it you’ve read this, Lavrentiy?”
“Yes indeed, Comrade General Secretary. Combined with Malinin’s briefing, my own report, I think we can say that the political plan was done what we expected, can we not?”
Stalin nodded his agreement, and substituted the folder for his tea.
“So, now that Vasilevsky is in a position to enact his plan, I think the GKO should approve the immediate implementation of it.”
It wasn’t a question, and Beria never even thought to offer agreement or opposition.
A silence descended.
Beria, wallowing in excellent work by his agitators and agents, felt smug and knew he had gained ground in the eyes of his master.
Stalin merely imagined a face.
A thin face with a high forehead…
… glasses…
…thin lips…
…Truman’s face…
“How he must be wriggling now, eh?”
Beria was startled out of his silence and looked at Stalin in query.
“I said, how that Amerikanski bastard Truman must be wriggling now, eh?”
“They’ll sue for peace… it’s inevitable… their democracy is their weakness… always has been, Comrade General Secretary. Their nations are weak… all of them, weak… but, even if they found someone with political resolve… they could never overcome this issue in their heartland…”
“Exactly, Lavrentiy, exactly… and that’s exactly why we will win… because we have the will!”
Stalin checked the time, and found he had less than he thought.
“Right, Comrade Marshal. Let us proceed to meet with the GKO, have the Vasilevsky plan initiated, press on with our efforts in their countries, and push ahead with Raduga as quickly as we can.”
He stood and pounded the desk with his hand.
“For the first time since those green toads stood at the gates of Moscow, and we drove them back, I know we will bring the world into a new Soviet era. It is inevitable, Comrade Marshal! Inevitable!”