alternatehistory.com
Twenty-four: Something In the Air
Twenty-four: Something In the Air
…
Wolf
A mud-spattered Ford rolled to the yard of the sanatorium. It was a nice collection of buildings, with a whitewashed stone main building surrounded by smaller wooden ones. As soon as the car stopped, a serious man in a grey suit approached it briskly. Wolf opened the door and stepped out into the slight rain.
”Excuse me, sir”, the man said in a polite but precise tone, ”this is a restricted area.”
Wolf had seen the signs already on the driveway. Something about ”contagious diseases”, even – a nice touch. He nodded to the man, pulling out a piece of paper.
”I know. I am Captain Halsti, and this is my warrant.”
The man looked at the paper, and Wolf could see the look on his face change.
”Welcome, captain. My name's Heyno. How can I help you?”
”Is the major in?”
”You're in luck – he arrived just a couple of hours ago.”
”Luck has nothing to do with it, Mister Heyno. We have a prearranged meeting with him.”
The two walked in to the main building. Also from the inside it looked like a real hospital, though there were no nurses or doctors anywhere to be seen. There were just youngish, military-looking men in civilian suits, or even in laid-back trousers and sweaters. Heyno took Wolf up the stairs and along the corridor, and then knocked on a heavy wooden door. In a minute, a man with a frown on his face opened it.
There was a flash of recognition on the man's face, and he asked Wolf in, casually dismissing Heyno with a nod. The captain and the major shook hands. Then Major Hallamaa asked his visitor to sit down in what appeared to be his office here.
”I've been expecting you”, he said, putting some papers into order on his desk.
”Word gets around, and intelligence is my business”, Reino Hallamaa declared and fixed his gaze on Wolf Halsti.
”I just came from Helsinki after meeting with an Estonian officer. They gave us some rather interesting material, just like the Latvians have recently...”
He laid down the papers and massaged his temple with his right hand.
”But enough of me. You're the man with a mission from Mannerheim”, the major said with a hint of smile.
Wolf had seen many other officers and visited many military commands in the last few weeks. He was greeted with either enthusiasm or doubt that bordered on hostility. Generally, it was the old and set-in-their-ways people who doubted him, and the reformers who were very positive towards him. Major Hallamaa, Wolf suspected, was one of the latter folks.
”It sounds a bit.. grandiose, when you put it that way”, Wolf said. ”...but I've heard worse”, he continued, without drawing a breath.
”You're rattling people's cages, and some don't like that. Me, I tend to think that if we are to have cages, then there will also have to be some rattling to keep their occupants awake.”
By now, Wolf had made a lot of notes and written what amounted to draft memorandums containing observations and suggestions of reform. But it was still early days – his final goal, what he considered was in his remit, was a full report on the modernization of the Finnish military system, to be presented to Mannerheim and the National Defence Council by early 1940.
”How's the Field Marshal, anyway?”, Hallamaa asked, some concern in his eyes.
Wolf shook his head.
”Not well, not well at all”, he said, remembering his last visit at the old man's Helsinki home.
”He's lost all the good humor he used to have – I worked briefly as his aide-de-camp, you know, some time ago. In comparison to those days... There's no spark there. He's in a dark place right now, I'm afraid. The best doctors are attending to him, but they seem to be short of solutions. We can only hope that time will heal his wounds, at the moment.”
”I am sorry to hear that.”
A contemplative silence fell in the room, accentuated by the grey October weather outside.
Then Hallamaa stood up.
”You're a busy man, captain. Let's not dwell on things we can't help, but rather attend to matters that are in our own hands. I've prepared a tour of the facility for you.”
”Lead on, then, major”, the captain said, nodding.
Hallamaa took Halsti around the largish building, first to a room set up like a classroom where a lesson was underway, on the properties of radio waves and various kinds of issues with them, it seemed. Next, he was led into a smaller room where two men were sitting at a table with American-made National radio equipment, headphones on, scribbling notes on sheets of paper. Halsti picked up one of the sheets and read it.
”I can't make heads or tails of this, I'm afraid”, he whispered to Hallamaa.
”To be fair, it is in code. Let's see...”
The major looked at the paper himself, contemplatively.
”It's in level three tactical code from the Red Banner Baltic Fleet. Easy. Come”, he said, leaving the room.
They entered the next room where two men similarly sat at a table, sans radios but with more papers and books about them. They stood up in a hurry when the two men entered.
”As you were. What does this say, Möttönen?”, Hallamaa said to the younger man, thrusting the paper to him with an authoritative air. The man simply nodded, took the paper, a pencil and an empty sheet. Halsti and Hallamaa looked on as he pored over the paper, consulted a couple of books in Finnish and Russian, made markings on the paper. A few times he corrected his markings, and finally he held up the paper triumphantly to the major.
”Major. It is a messy hand, one I have not encountered before, but clear enough”, the man said in an obvious Savonian accent.
Halsti had checked the time. It had taken seven minutes.
”A fleet commissary office in Kronstadt reports a shortage in uniform tunics, blankets and bed linens to the fleet supply headquarters in Leningrad. The message feels a bit, ah, angry.”
Hallamaa nodded.
”Analysis?”
”What with the other messages we have been getting recently, I'd say this one can be used to argue that the Red Banner Baltic Fleet is stepping up its preparedness and that new recruits are arriving to the barracks as we speak, major.”
”Thank you, sergeant major. I'm inclined to agree with that assessment. Alright then, carry on.”
Next, the major took Halsti to a small electronics repair shop, where four men were hard at work with equipment the captain did not readily recognize but assumed had again something to do with radios. When finally the two men entered the building's small cafeteria and Hallamaa offered the captain some coffee and sandwiches, the captain could agree that it appeared like a well-run little operation.
He told as much to the major.
”That is precisely my complaint, captain”, Hallamaa answered.
”We have more stations like this one, as you well know, for listening on different parts of the Soviet military, but it is still very much all too little. I have been constantly trying to get more resources for the work, but none of it is forthcoming. The old guard...”
Halsti knew the problem. The older generals saw the radio intelligence's work as a quaint little diversion, just a bit of study that would not have practical use, not something that could have major effects in a war, up to the strategic level.
”For what it's worth”, the young captain told his host, ”I do agree with you. This kind of work might well be crucial in the war to come – if we have the resources for it. And then its results would have to be readily available to the highest military leadership, after necessary analysis, while also crucial operational secrecy will have to be maintained.”
Hallamaa nodded, not finding any fault with Halsti's thinking.
”Now”, the captain said, ”what do you need?”
Hallamaa gave him a crooked smile.
”Simply put? More money, more equipment and more men. Women, too.”
Halsti raised his gaze from his notes.
”Too lonesome here for you boys, major?”
”Hah, you joke but you do know what I mean. Experienced secretaries with skills in shorthand and typewriting. And keen language skills. Don't get me wrong, though – it does get boring being cooped up with just the same men, day after day. Not for me, mind. I get to travel – recently to Sweden, and to Britain, too. But to the rank and file, as it were.”
Halsti smiled and nodded.
”You get me a draft proposal on how you would expand wartime signals intelligence, in the first instance and in a term of, say, two years, and I promise to give it a good, honest look. For the benefit of our superiors and the Fatherland, of course.”
”Of course. I'll get you something by the end of the week”, Hallamaa said.
”Unless, of course, I'll be busier with other matters", he said and nodded to the newspapers on the table.
In the folded paper, just the main headline was visible.
EXTRAORDINARY MILITARY EXERCISES, it said, in all caps.
….
Veli
...On the Hakaniemi Square and in the immediate vicinity. According to official sources, there were no serious injuries for the people involved on either side of the demonstration. Several attendees of the far left group have been arrested by the Helsinki police. According to the State Police, some of these individuals will be questioned in connection with...
The Vaara family was gathered in the farmhouse's big hall to listen to the radio. It had for long been a daily ritual of Salomo Vaara to listen to the news, and he had made it compulsory for everyone else to attend the proceedings as well. Now the head of the Vaara household was not home, having taken up a position in the capital, but the remaining members of the family continued with the ritual of the evening news.
...Has been refused by the Finnish government. The ship will have to leave Finnish waters, and the German Jewish refugees aboard need to find another port for disembarkation. Reached for comment about the matter, Urho Kekkonen, the Second Minister of the Interior, reminded everyone for the responsibility of the Finnish government to look after the national interest and the well-being of the Finnish people first...
Veli Vaara listened to the news these days with growing apprehension. It seemed to the young farmer that, somehow, the flow of history had sped up. It was like if you were paddling along a placid lake in your canoe. Sure, you had to watch out for sudden rocks and skerries on your path under the still waters – it was a lake you didn't know entirely. But then when the waters were still you see below them somewhat, and predict what was coming up. But now, the flow of water had picked up, and because there was a heavier current, you could not see under the surface. Were there actual rapids up ahead? You couldn't see that, either, because a fog was rising...
...Will personally lead the Finnish government delegation which will leave for Moscow tomorrow to discuss matters of mutual interest with the Soviet leadership, based on an invitation from the Soviet government. Along with the Prime Minister, Foreign Minister Väinö Voionmaa and Section Head Johan Nykopp from the Foreign Ministry will also be joining the delegation. Additionally, Colonel Paasonen, recently the aide-de-camp to the President of the Republic, is in attendance as a military...
Someone reached to him and tugged his left sleeve.
”Veli”, little Erkki asked him, looking puzzled, ”what is an atterant?”
Veli looked at his brother and smiled to the boy.
”An aide-de-camp, Erkki, is a soldier who is assigned to a higher officer or political leader to work as his personal assistant”, he said, slowly and with exaggarated care.
The boy nodded earnestly, and continued to listen to the news.
...Voluntary evacuations of civilians have been started in Helsinki and Viipuri due to reasons of raising national preparedness in uncertain times. The state and government are assisting the population of these two cities of national importance, by making it possible to buy railway or bus tickets at reduced prices and making available extraordinary railway and bus services. Good, neighbourly cooperation among ordinary citizens will be of high importance ...
Veli Vaara looked at his family around him, his mother Alma thoughtfully knitting a woolen sock while she listened to the staticky radio signal sent to the ether over the Republic from the modern long wave transmitter in Lahti. His sister Hilja stroking the fur of the yellow tomcat Pekka, his brother Jorma sitting next to her on the wooden bench by the big table, in the light of the oil lamp in the darkening October evening. On the wall, the old grandfather clock was counting time in its ponderous manner.
Suddenly, the yellow cat jumped down from Hilja's arms and, with its fluffy tail raised high, took a few suspicious steps towards the door.
About a minute later, there was a knock on the door.
It was a young, serious man in a Civil Guards uniform, slightly out of breath.
”Evening, Mikko”, Veli said to the Keinänen boy, ”what brings you around tonight?”
”Veli ”, young Mikko Keinänen said in a serious, official voice, one that made a shiver run through the spine of the acting master of the Vaara household, ”I have a letter for you from the military district.”
Veli had already guessed as much.
….
The Helsinki Main Railway Station, October 6th, 1939, 6 p.m.
In the October evening, rainless but surprisingly chilly, the main railway terminus of Finland was filling with people. Unlike most people who usually made their way across the main hall of the iconic station designed by Eliel Saarinen and built during the First World War, these people not going anywhere or coming from anywhere, either. Most, tonight, were here as spectators to a special event.
Men in police and military uniforms kept a close eye on the station and its surroundings. Even a few plain-clothed State Police agents were present, trying to blend into the crowd. The whole capital was in a state of heightened readiness this day.
A small group of men in suits and heavy overcoats pushed through the crowd, with uniformed men clearing a way for them. The group was led in a dyspeptic-looking older man with round spectacles, huffing and puffing in annoyance as he went. He was followed by a taller and slightly younger, somehow academic-looking man who tried to smile carefully to the people all around. Three other, still younger men brought up the rear of the group.
When the group arrived to the platform, they were met by a multitude of people. And the people sung to them. Patriotic songs rang out into the night on the open platform, as did religious hymns like Luther's powerful A Mighty Fortress is Our Lord. Naturally, they sang the national anthem, too.
Everyone who was there would remember this night for a long time.
The press and the radio were there, too. Journalists and their photographers covering the scene, a Yleisradio team making a broadcast for which they wanted comments from the main characters of this special event. Both Prime Minister Paasikivi and Foreign Minister Voionmaa indulged the radio reporteers, the Prime Minister briefly and Voionmaa in some more detail. The general tenor of their messages to the Finnish people was one of hope and national unity.
Finally, the crowd sang again, the song that was known only as the Pledge:
Hear a sacred pledge, you precious land of Finland:
Violence can not touch you at all!
We will protect you, guard you with blood,
Be without worry, your son is awake!
After the sound of singing died down, Minister Voionmaa doffed his hat to the people and started climbing to the carriage. Juho Kusti Paasikivi started to follow him up the steps, but Lieutenant Colonel Aladar Paasonen, the military member of the delegation leaving for Moscow, put his hand on the older man's shoulder.
”Prime Minister”, he said, nodding towards the station proper.
From there, across the throng, two military officers were determinedly pushing their way towards the delegation. Paasonen had already recognized one of them as a man he knew.
Paasikivi waited.
”Mr Prime Minister”, the older of the two men, with a staff major's rank badges on his collar, said.
”Yes, what is it?”, Paasikivi asked, irritably, ”as you can see, I am a bit busy”.
”It is the president, he... He had another stroke. Twenty minutes ago. They are taking him to the Surgical Hospital as we speak.”
”Perkele”, the Prime Minister cursed under his breath, ”right now, of all times?”
”I am sorry”, the major said, and certainly looked that way, too.
The Foreign Minister looked out of the open doorway. He had not heard the major's message yet.
”Mr Prime Minister, the train is leaving.”
Juho Kusti Paasikivi looked at his Foreign Minister and made up his mind.
”You go on, Väinö”, he said, his heart sinking, ”I have to stay here. President Kallio is poorly again.”
”But Prime Minister”, Voionmaa said as Lieutenant Colonel Paasonen already climbed the stairs to the train as well.
Paasikivi only raised his hand to Voionmaa.
”Go! You have all my trust riding with you.”
With those words, the train took off towards the capital of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.
….
To Be Continued
Twenty-four: Something In the Air
…
Wolf
A mud-spattered Ford rolled to the yard of the sanatorium. It was a nice collection of buildings, with a whitewashed stone main building surrounded by smaller wooden ones. As soon as the car stopped, a serious man in a grey suit approached it briskly. Wolf opened the door and stepped out into the slight rain.
”Excuse me, sir”, the man said in a polite but precise tone, ”this is a restricted area.”
Wolf had seen the signs already on the driveway. Something about ”contagious diseases”, even – a nice touch. He nodded to the man, pulling out a piece of paper.
”I know. I am Captain Halsti, and this is my warrant.”
The man looked at the paper, and Wolf could see the look on his face change.
”Welcome, captain. My name's Heyno. How can I help you?”
”Is the major in?”
”You're in luck – he arrived just a couple of hours ago.”
”Luck has nothing to do with it, Mister Heyno. We have a prearranged meeting with him.”
The two walked in to the main building. Also from the inside it looked like a real hospital, though there were no nurses or doctors anywhere to be seen. There were just youngish, military-looking men in civilian suits, or even in laid-back trousers and sweaters. Heyno took Wolf up the stairs and along the corridor, and then knocked on a heavy wooden door. In a minute, a man with a frown on his face opened it.
There was a flash of recognition on the man's face, and he asked Wolf in, casually dismissing Heyno with a nod. The captain and the major shook hands. Then Major Hallamaa asked his visitor to sit down in what appeared to be his office here.
”I've been expecting you”, he said, putting some papers into order on his desk.
”Word gets around, and intelligence is my business”, Reino Hallamaa declared and fixed his gaze on Wolf Halsti.
”I just came from Helsinki after meeting with an Estonian officer. They gave us some rather interesting material, just like the Latvians have recently...”
He laid down the papers and massaged his temple with his right hand.
”But enough of me. You're the man with a mission from Mannerheim”, the major said with a hint of smile.
Wolf had seen many other officers and visited many military commands in the last few weeks. He was greeted with either enthusiasm or doubt that bordered on hostility. Generally, it was the old and set-in-their-ways people who doubted him, and the reformers who were very positive towards him. Major Hallamaa, Wolf suspected, was one of the latter folks.
”It sounds a bit.. grandiose, when you put it that way”, Wolf said. ”...but I've heard worse”, he continued, without drawing a breath.
”You're rattling people's cages, and some don't like that. Me, I tend to think that if we are to have cages, then there will also have to be some rattling to keep their occupants awake.”
By now, Wolf had made a lot of notes and written what amounted to draft memorandums containing observations and suggestions of reform. But it was still early days – his final goal, what he considered was in his remit, was a full report on the modernization of the Finnish military system, to be presented to Mannerheim and the National Defence Council by early 1940.
”How's the Field Marshal, anyway?”, Hallamaa asked, some concern in his eyes.
Wolf shook his head.
”Not well, not well at all”, he said, remembering his last visit at the old man's Helsinki home.
”He's lost all the good humor he used to have – I worked briefly as his aide-de-camp, you know, some time ago. In comparison to those days... There's no spark there. He's in a dark place right now, I'm afraid. The best doctors are attending to him, but they seem to be short of solutions. We can only hope that time will heal his wounds, at the moment.”
”I am sorry to hear that.”
A contemplative silence fell in the room, accentuated by the grey October weather outside.
Then Hallamaa stood up.
”You're a busy man, captain. Let's not dwell on things we can't help, but rather attend to matters that are in our own hands. I've prepared a tour of the facility for you.”
”Lead on, then, major”, the captain said, nodding.
Hallamaa took Halsti around the largish building, first to a room set up like a classroom where a lesson was underway, on the properties of radio waves and various kinds of issues with them, it seemed. Next, he was led into a smaller room where two men were sitting at a table with American-made National radio equipment, headphones on, scribbling notes on sheets of paper. Halsti picked up one of the sheets and read it.
”I can't make heads or tails of this, I'm afraid”, he whispered to Hallamaa.
”To be fair, it is in code. Let's see...”
The major looked at the paper himself, contemplatively.
”It's in level three tactical code from the Red Banner Baltic Fleet. Easy. Come”, he said, leaving the room.
They entered the next room where two men similarly sat at a table, sans radios but with more papers and books about them. They stood up in a hurry when the two men entered.
”As you were. What does this say, Möttönen?”, Hallamaa said to the younger man, thrusting the paper to him with an authoritative air. The man simply nodded, took the paper, a pencil and an empty sheet. Halsti and Hallamaa looked on as he pored over the paper, consulted a couple of books in Finnish and Russian, made markings on the paper. A few times he corrected his markings, and finally he held up the paper triumphantly to the major.
”Major. It is a messy hand, one I have not encountered before, but clear enough”, the man said in an obvious Savonian accent.
Halsti had checked the time. It had taken seven minutes.
”A fleet commissary office in Kronstadt reports a shortage in uniform tunics, blankets and bed linens to the fleet supply headquarters in Leningrad. The message feels a bit, ah, angry.”
Hallamaa nodded.
”Analysis?”
”What with the other messages we have been getting recently, I'd say this one can be used to argue that the Red Banner Baltic Fleet is stepping up its preparedness and that new recruits are arriving to the barracks as we speak, major.”
”Thank you, sergeant major. I'm inclined to agree with that assessment. Alright then, carry on.”
Next, the major took Halsti to a small electronics repair shop, where four men were hard at work with equipment the captain did not readily recognize but assumed had again something to do with radios. When finally the two men entered the building's small cafeteria and Hallamaa offered the captain some coffee and sandwiches, the captain could agree that it appeared like a well-run little operation.
He told as much to the major.
”That is precisely my complaint, captain”, Hallamaa answered.
”We have more stations like this one, as you well know, for listening on different parts of the Soviet military, but it is still very much all too little. I have been constantly trying to get more resources for the work, but none of it is forthcoming. The old guard...”
Halsti knew the problem. The older generals saw the radio intelligence's work as a quaint little diversion, just a bit of study that would not have practical use, not something that could have major effects in a war, up to the strategic level.
”For what it's worth”, the young captain told his host, ”I do agree with you. This kind of work might well be crucial in the war to come – if we have the resources for it. And then its results would have to be readily available to the highest military leadership, after necessary analysis, while also crucial operational secrecy will have to be maintained.”
Hallamaa nodded, not finding any fault with Halsti's thinking.
”Now”, the captain said, ”what do you need?”
Hallamaa gave him a crooked smile.
”Simply put? More money, more equipment and more men. Women, too.”
Halsti raised his gaze from his notes.
”Too lonesome here for you boys, major?”
”Hah, you joke but you do know what I mean. Experienced secretaries with skills in shorthand and typewriting. And keen language skills. Don't get me wrong, though – it does get boring being cooped up with just the same men, day after day. Not for me, mind. I get to travel – recently to Sweden, and to Britain, too. But to the rank and file, as it were.”
Halsti smiled and nodded.
”You get me a draft proposal on how you would expand wartime signals intelligence, in the first instance and in a term of, say, two years, and I promise to give it a good, honest look. For the benefit of our superiors and the Fatherland, of course.”
”Of course. I'll get you something by the end of the week”, Hallamaa said.
”Unless, of course, I'll be busier with other matters", he said and nodded to the newspapers on the table.
In the folded paper, just the main headline was visible.
EXTRAORDINARY MILITARY EXERCISES, it said, in all caps.
….
Veli
...On the Hakaniemi Square and in the immediate vicinity. According to official sources, there were no serious injuries for the people involved on either side of the demonstration. Several attendees of the far left group have been arrested by the Helsinki police. According to the State Police, some of these individuals will be questioned in connection with...
The Vaara family was gathered in the farmhouse's big hall to listen to the radio. It had for long been a daily ritual of Salomo Vaara to listen to the news, and he had made it compulsory for everyone else to attend the proceedings as well. Now the head of the Vaara household was not home, having taken up a position in the capital, but the remaining members of the family continued with the ritual of the evening news.
...Has been refused by the Finnish government. The ship will have to leave Finnish waters, and the German Jewish refugees aboard need to find another port for disembarkation. Reached for comment about the matter, Urho Kekkonen, the Second Minister of the Interior, reminded everyone for the responsibility of the Finnish government to look after the national interest and the well-being of the Finnish people first...
Veli Vaara listened to the news these days with growing apprehension. It seemed to the young farmer that, somehow, the flow of history had sped up. It was like if you were paddling along a placid lake in your canoe. Sure, you had to watch out for sudden rocks and skerries on your path under the still waters – it was a lake you didn't know entirely. But then when the waters were still you see below them somewhat, and predict what was coming up. But now, the flow of water had picked up, and because there was a heavier current, you could not see under the surface. Were there actual rapids up ahead? You couldn't see that, either, because a fog was rising...
...Will personally lead the Finnish government delegation which will leave for Moscow tomorrow to discuss matters of mutual interest with the Soviet leadership, based on an invitation from the Soviet government. Along with the Prime Minister, Foreign Minister Väinö Voionmaa and Section Head Johan Nykopp from the Foreign Ministry will also be joining the delegation. Additionally, Colonel Paasonen, recently the aide-de-camp to the President of the Republic, is in attendance as a military...
Someone reached to him and tugged his left sleeve.
”Veli”, little Erkki asked him, looking puzzled, ”what is an atterant?”
Veli looked at his brother and smiled to the boy.
”An aide-de-camp, Erkki, is a soldier who is assigned to a higher officer or political leader to work as his personal assistant”, he said, slowly and with exaggarated care.
The boy nodded earnestly, and continued to listen to the news.
...Voluntary evacuations of civilians have been started in Helsinki and Viipuri due to reasons of raising national preparedness in uncertain times. The state and government are assisting the population of these two cities of national importance, by making it possible to buy railway or bus tickets at reduced prices and making available extraordinary railway and bus services. Good, neighbourly cooperation among ordinary citizens will be of high importance ...
Veli Vaara looked at his family around him, his mother Alma thoughtfully knitting a woolen sock while she listened to the staticky radio signal sent to the ether over the Republic from the modern long wave transmitter in Lahti. His sister Hilja stroking the fur of the yellow tomcat Pekka, his brother Jorma sitting next to her on the wooden bench by the big table, in the light of the oil lamp in the darkening October evening. On the wall, the old grandfather clock was counting time in its ponderous manner.
Suddenly, the yellow cat jumped down from Hilja's arms and, with its fluffy tail raised high, took a few suspicious steps towards the door.
About a minute later, there was a knock on the door.
It was a young, serious man in a Civil Guards uniform, slightly out of breath.
”Evening, Mikko”, Veli said to the Keinänen boy, ”what brings you around tonight?”
”Veli ”, young Mikko Keinänen said in a serious, official voice, one that made a shiver run through the spine of the acting master of the Vaara household, ”I have a letter for you from the military district.”
Veli had already guessed as much.
….
The Helsinki Main Railway Station, October 6th, 1939, 6 p.m.
In the October evening, rainless but surprisingly chilly, the main railway terminus of Finland was filling with people. Unlike most people who usually made their way across the main hall of the iconic station designed by Eliel Saarinen and built during the First World War, these people not going anywhere or coming from anywhere, either. Most, tonight, were here as spectators to a special event.
Men in police and military uniforms kept a close eye on the station and its surroundings. Even a few plain-clothed State Police agents were present, trying to blend into the crowd. The whole capital was in a state of heightened readiness this day.
A small group of men in suits and heavy overcoats pushed through the crowd, with uniformed men clearing a way for them. The group was led in a dyspeptic-looking older man with round spectacles, huffing and puffing in annoyance as he went. He was followed by a taller and slightly younger, somehow academic-looking man who tried to smile carefully to the people all around. Three other, still younger men brought up the rear of the group.
When the group arrived to the platform, they were met by a multitude of people. And the people sung to them. Patriotic songs rang out into the night on the open platform, as did religious hymns like Luther's powerful A Mighty Fortress is Our Lord. Naturally, they sang the national anthem, too.
Everyone who was there would remember this night for a long time.
The press and the radio were there, too. Journalists and their photographers covering the scene, a Yleisradio team making a broadcast for which they wanted comments from the main characters of this special event. Both Prime Minister Paasikivi and Foreign Minister Voionmaa indulged the radio reporteers, the Prime Minister briefly and Voionmaa in some more detail. The general tenor of their messages to the Finnish people was one of hope and national unity.
Finally, the crowd sang again, the song that was known only as the Pledge:
Hear a sacred pledge, you precious land of Finland:
Violence can not touch you at all!
We will protect you, guard you with blood,
Be without worry, your son is awake!
After the sound of singing died down, Minister Voionmaa doffed his hat to the people and started climbing to the carriage. Juho Kusti Paasikivi started to follow him up the steps, but Lieutenant Colonel Aladar Paasonen, the military member of the delegation leaving for Moscow, put his hand on the older man's shoulder.
”Prime Minister”, he said, nodding towards the station proper.
From there, across the throng, two military officers were determinedly pushing their way towards the delegation. Paasonen had already recognized one of them as a man he knew.
Paasikivi waited.
”Mr Prime Minister”, the older of the two men, with a staff major's rank badges on his collar, said.
”Yes, what is it?”, Paasikivi asked, irritably, ”as you can see, I am a bit busy”.
”It is the president, he... He had another stroke. Twenty minutes ago. They are taking him to the Surgical Hospital as we speak.”
”Perkele”, the Prime Minister cursed under his breath, ”right now, of all times?”
”I am sorry”, the major said, and certainly looked that way, too.
The Foreign Minister looked out of the open doorway. He had not heard the major's message yet.
”Mr Prime Minister, the train is leaving.”
Juho Kusti Paasikivi looked at his Foreign Minister and made up his mind.
”You go on, Väinö”, he said, his heart sinking, ”I have to stay here. President Kallio is poorly again.”
”But Prime Minister”, Voionmaa said as Lieutenant Colonel Paasonen already climbed the stairs to the train as well.
Paasikivi only raised his hand to Voionmaa.
”Go! You have all my trust riding with you.”
With those words, the train took off towards the capital of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.
….
Wind rises at a yard I can't reach anymore
A letter knocked on the door and told me the distance
Just like shaking its head a tree swayed its branches
Even if it well knows it will have to carry me
The crescent of a silver moon
Curves over my head
Until it falls
And finally that bright crescent
Of a silver moon
Will wrap itself around my neck
….
A letter knocked on the door and told me the distance
Just like shaking its head a tree swayed its branches
Even if it well knows it will have to carry me
The crescent of a silver moon
Curves over my head
Until it falls
And finally that bright crescent
Of a silver moon
Will wrap itself around my neck
….
View attachment 423927
"Finnish Prime Minister J.K. Paasikivi is about to leave for Moscow. October 6th, 1939."
Source: The Finnish Military Museum
..."Finnish Prime Minister J.K. Paasikivi is about to leave for Moscow. October 6th, 1939."
Source: The Finnish Military Museum
To Be Continued
- DrakonFin
- Word Count: 3.1k