was. The young man put down the comic and shook his hand. 'Andrei Efanov. Great book. You really stuffed the bastards. I'll see what we have.'
THERE were two reference books with entries for Yepishev:
the Military Encyclopaedia of the USSR and the Directory of Heroes of the Soviet Union, and both told pretty much the same story, if you knew how to read between the lines, which was that Aleksey Alekseevich Yepishev had been an armour-plated, ocean-going Stalinist of the old school: Komsomol and Party instructor in the twenties and thirties; Red Army Military Academy, 1938; Commissar of the Komintern Factory in Kharkov, 1942; Military Council of the Thirty-Eighth Army of the 1St Ukrainian Front, 1943; Deputy People's Commissar for Medium Machine Building, also 1943 -
'What's a "medium machine",' asked Efanov, who was peering at the books over Kelso's shoulder. Efanov turned out to have done his military service in Lithuania - two years of hell - and to have been refused admittance to Moscow University in the communist time on the grounds he was a Jew. Now he was taking a huge delight in poking over the dust and ashes of Yepishev's career.
'Cover-name for the Soviet atomic bomb programme, said Kelso. 'Beria's pet project.' Beria. He made a note.
- Secretary of the Central Committee of the Ukrainian Communist Parry, 1946 -
'That was when they purged the Ukraine of collaborators, after the war,' said Efanov. 'A bloody time.'
- First Secretary of the Odessa Regional Party Committee, 1950; Deputy Minister of State Security, 1951 -Deputy Minister...
Each entry was illustrated with the same official photograph of Yepishev. Kelso looked again at the the square jaw, the thick brow, the grim face set above the boxer's neck.
'Oh, he was a big bastard, boy. A fleshy tank...
'Gotcha,' whispered Kelso to himself.
After Stalin's death, Yepishev's career had taken a dive. First he had been sent back to Odessa, then he had been packed off abroad. Ambassador to Romania, 1955-61. Ambassador to Yugoslavia, 1961-62. And then, at last, the long-awaited summons back to Moscow, as Head of the Central Political Department of the Soviet Armed Forces -its ideological commissar - a position he held for the next twenty-three years. And who had served as his deputy? None other than Dmitri Volkogonov, three-star general and future biographer of Josef Stalin.
To extract these small plums of information it was necessary to dig through a great pudding of cliche and jargon, praising Yepishev for his 'important role in shaping the necessary political attitudes and enforcing Marxist- Leninist orthodoxy in the Armed Forces, in strengthening military discipline and fostering ideological readiness'. He had died aged seventy-seven. Volkogonov, Kelso knew, had died ten years later.
The list ofYepishev's honours ancE medals took up the rest of his entry: Hero of the Soviet Union, winner of the Lenin Prize, holder of four Orders of Lenin, the October Revolution Order, four Orders of the Red Banner, two Orders of the Great Patriotic War (ist class), the Order of the Red Banner, three Orders of the Red Star, the Order of Service to the Motherland...
'It's a wonder he could stand up.'
'And I'll bet you he never shot anyone,' sneered Efanov, 'except on his own side. So what's so interesting about Yepishev~ if you don't mind me asking?'
'What's this?' said Kelso suddenly. He pointed to a line at the foot of the column: 'V. P. Mamantov.'
'He's the author of the entry.
'Yepishev's entry was written by Mamantov? Vladimir Mamantov? The KGB man?'
'That's him. So what? The entries are usually written by friends. Why? D'you know him?'
'I don't know him. I've met him.' He frowned at the name. 'His people were demonstrating - this morning -'Oh, them? They're always demonstrating. When did you meet Mamantov?'
Kelso reached for his notebook and began skimming back through the pages. About five years ago, I suppose. When I was re searching my book on the
THERE were two reference books with entries for Yepishev:
the Military Encyclopaedia of the USSR and the Directory of Heroes of the Soviet Union, and both told pretty much the same story, if you knew how to read between the lines, which was that Aleksey Alekseevich Yepishev had been an armour-plated, ocean-going Stalinist of the old school: Komsomol and Party instructor in the twenties and thirties; Red Army Military Academy, 1938; Commissar of the Komintern Factory in Kharkov, 1942; Military Council of the Thirty-Eighth Army of the 1St Ukrainian Front, 1943; Deputy People's Commissar for Medium Machine Building, also 1943 -
'What's a "medium machine",' asked Efanov, who was peering at the books over Kelso's shoulder. Efanov turned out to have done his military service in Lithuania - two years of hell - and to have been refused admittance to Moscow University in the communist time on the grounds he was a Jew. Now he was taking a huge delight in poking over the dust and ashes of Yepishev's career.
'Cover-name for the Soviet atomic bomb programme, said Kelso. 'Beria's pet project.' Beria. He made a note.
- Secretary of the Central Committee of the Ukrainian Communist Parry, 1946 -
'That was when they purged the Ukraine of collaborators, after the war,' said Efanov. 'A bloody time.'
- First Secretary of the Odessa Regional Party Committee, 1950; Deputy Minister of State Security, 1951 -Deputy Minister...
Each entry was illustrated with the same official photograph of Yepishev. Kelso looked again at the the square jaw, the thick brow, the grim face set above the boxer's neck.
'Oh, he was a big bastard, boy. A fleshy tank...
'Gotcha,' whispered Kelso to himself.
After Stalin's death, Yepishev's career had taken a dive. First he had been sent back to Odessa, then he had been packed off abroad. Ambassador to Romania, 1955-61. Ambassador to Yugoslavia, 1961-62. And then, at last, the long-awaited summons back to Moscow, as Head of the Central Political Department of the Soviet Armed Forces -its ideological commissar - a position he held for the next twenty-three years. And who had served as his deputy? None other than Dmitri Volkogonov, three-star general and future biographer of Josef Stalin.
To extract these small plums of information it was necessary to dig through a great pudding of cliche and jargon, praising Yepishev for his 'important role in shaping the necessary political attitudes and enforcing Marxist- Leninist orthodoxy in the Armed Forces, in strengthening military discipline and fostering ideological readiness'. He had died aged seventy-seven. Volkogonov, Kelso knew, had died ten years later.
The list ofYepishev's honours ancE medals took up the rest of his entry: Hero of the Soviet Union, winner of the Lenin Prize, holder of four Orders of Lenin, the October Revolution Order, four Orders of the Red Banner, two Orders of the Great Patriotic War (ist class), the Order of the Red Banner, three Orders of the Red Star, the Order of Service to the Motherland...
'It's a wonder he could stand up.'
'And I'll bet you he never shot anyone,' sneered Efanov, 'except on his own side. So what's so interesting about Yepishev~ if you don't mind me asking?'
'What's this?' said Kelso suddenly. He pointed to a line at the foot of the column: 'V. P. Mamantov.'
'He's the author of the entry.
'Yepishev's entry was written by Mamantov? Vladimir Mamantov? The KGB man?'
'That's him. So what? The entries are usually written by friends. Why? D'you know him?'
'I don't know him. I've met him.' He frowned at the name. 'His people were demonstrating - this morning -'Oh, them? They're always demonstrating. When did you meet Mamantov?'
Kelso reached for his notebook and began skimming back through the pages. About five years ago, I suppose. When I was re searching my book on the
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