“Yes, the Capitalists Allies initially fought hard against the German and soon they broke them, those pitiful few divisions that faced them,” Bulganin qualified in a dismissive tone.
“We fought for every metre of land, ours, and theirs, and paid in blood! Whereas these Western Allies, these democratic nations, Ha! ,” Bulganin snorted his disgust, “They were welcomed with open arms into the German lair, the green toads surrendering in their thousands whilst they fought us tooth and nail.”
More positive noises of agreement from the group and again the hand was raised.
“The capitalists have lordship over the better half of Germany and have constantly threatened and tried to bully our Motherland over our agreements to withdraw to some apparently agreed lines on a map,” his voice rose, “Expecting us to concede ground rich with the blood of our troops!”
“We have responded to our agreements and relinquished some territory, as they have,” he conceded, “But they still sit on lands won from the German at great cost, not to them but to us!”
With a solemn shake of the head, Bulganin almost reluctantly continued.
“Berlin, bloody Berlin. How many of our sons’ hearts were stilled in those streets eh? Streets made sacred with our Soviet blood! And yet we have ceded vast portions of the city to honour our agreements.”
The diatribe was having its effect and some of the ensemble were becoming agitated. Stalin sat inscrutably and observed the emotion build.
“What they gave up to us does not measure against our own concessions!”
Bulganin’s voice continued its ascent in both pitch and volume.
“That is not right and must be, will be, changed. However, they refuse our requests for change; refuse our reasonable suggestions for further developments. The Nazi lackey Spain should be brought to heel but no, they refuse to remove this blight, despite the fact that they fought us and killed our soldiers!”
His disgust was evident.
“Italy, whose soldiers fought us on the steppes, is now a partner, an ally! It should be ravaged and made to pay, its coffers emptied to recoup the payment we have made in blood, but no, the Western Allies now venerate them as allies, because they switched sides when the writing was on the wall! Govno!”
A pained expression swiftly took hold of his face.
“France, vanquished, humiliated, and crushed is somehow now an equal partner?” A look of disgust spread across Bulganin’s face swiftly becoming a sneer. “A sharer in Berlin and German territories? For what? As a reward for years of Vichy cooperation and service to the German toads? Mudaks!”
The informed observer would be amazed at Bulganin’s delivery and the effect he was having on everyone present. The man’s passion was evident.
“Land bought with the bodies of our comrades cannot just be handed back to those who are not fit to lick their boots! Not without proper acknowledgement of our efforts!”
Three of the group actually stood and shouted their opposition to such handovers before calming down and resuming their seats.
“Your revolutionary spirit does you credit comrades, and you will not permit this injustice to stand, this I know.”
“Now we have discovered why these Western Allies act as they do, for there is something else here; something called treachery!”
Bulganin looked at Beria who fished inside his briefcase and took out a simple folder and it passed theatrically from hand to hand until it ended up with Stalin. Casually and without flourish, although it was a trump card in its own right, it made its way to Bulganin who removed the first sheet and brandished it to his military audience.
Bulganin’s voice began strongly.
“Our own sources inside the British bureaucracy have provided Comrade Marshall Beria with some interesting information.”
As Stalin relit his pipe noisily, Bulganin continued.
“It would appear that Churchill ordered a military study on invading our territories,” interrupted by a deep breath, “In May.”
Everyone focussed on Bulganin immediately, making a perceptible wave of heads throughout the room.
“Yes Comrades, May! The treacherous English bastard was about his tricks quicker than we thought.”
Some very serious and capable military muscle suddenly felt very much betrayed and exceptionally angry, which was the whole purpose behind the style of the presentation.
He held aloft the document he had been passed and all eyes automatically shot to it.
“Operation Unthinkable it is called, named in an effort to deflect us should we find out about it I expect.”
Bulganin’s voice rose to almost a shriek, punching out words to huge effect.
“Over forty capitalist divisions to attack us in Northern Germany, striving for the Baltic. Our Allies, Comrades, our dear… trustworthy… Capitalist… Allies!”
Voices from the floor were raised in disbelief and anger to this apparent backstabbing and many normally calm men became very agitated.
Bulganin waited for the furore to subside, hands on hips, staring wildly at his willing audience.
He picked up his folder and indicated its contents with a scowl.
“Reports here of the best general they have, George Patton, speaking out against the de-Nazification of Germany and preaching of the threat posed by Communism….Mother Russia…. US! He has even urged his commanders to attack us before we grow too strong!”
The howls of the betrayed filled the air and were not easily brought under control by an agitated Bulganin.
“Their transport of troops home has greatly slowed despite their assurances that they would start to demobilise. Only those to be sent to the Pacific to fight the slant-eyes now leave Europe!”
He took a very obvious moment to compose himself before continuing.
“Comrade Polkovnik-General Pekunin’s agents have also discovered more treachery in the Western Allies, treachery which you will not believe comrades!”
“They, the useless French Military that is, plan to employ defeated German soldiery in their army to fight in Indo-China against our communist brother General Ho. At the same time, in an operation laughably called ‘Apple pie’, the American leadership are courting German Generals and their main topic of conversation is us!”
A furore of angry words burst forth upon the room, and this time it needed Stalin himself to thump his hand repeatedly on the desk to bring the group back to some sort of order.
Bulganin nodded appreciatively at the General Secretary before turning once more to his incensed audience.
“The Americans have an operation they call ‘Paperclip’, which is channelling every German scientist who worked on the Nazi’s rocket programme into working for them! Nazi’s making rockets for the Americans! To what end I ask?”
More anguish poured forth from the military.
“Comrades, you must stay calm, as your leadership has stayed calm. There must be no action in anger or haste.”
Wise heads and hotheads alike nodded at those sensible words.
It was to a silent room that the punch line was delivered.
“After much consideration, it has been decided that the Motherland will not bow to these threats. We will retain each and every metre of soil we now hold and there will be no more negotiations, no more concessions. Our existing agreements with the Western Allies are dead.”
There were many hearty claps to honour that decision.
“Our leader,” he indicated Stalin with an expansive gesture, “Also knows the people and the party will not accept this treachery, and has planned for the day when we will oppose it and cast it aside.”
“In your hands you possess the plans by which the Motherland will overcome these travesties. The memory of all our comrades who gave their life’s blood will be honoured and our country will be properly rewarded for destroying the threat of Nazism forever.”