Deleted member 14881
Another Update from MB
Turn Ten: The Price We Pay for Survival
Excerpts from the Memoirs of Jovanka Broz
Chapter Five: The Enemy of My Enemy Can Either be my Friend or my Enemy
It was chaos, I’m telling you. The reports of Soviet forces that trickled down through our territory from Hungary, Romania and Bulgaria were enormous, and there was a major revolt in Macedonia that we as Yugoslav socialists can assume that was done with Moscow’s hand in it. Unfortunately, the Serbs were not happy with Joca’s partition of Kosovo with the Albanian communists of Enver Hoxha to the point where they began to collaborate with the Soviet forces in the region. As if things could not get worse, we heard that Peko and Arso were in Moscow, talking with that Red Fascist Mikoyan on reorganizing a new Yugoslav state that would bind the Serbs with Bulgaria, but would chuck the Croats, Bosniaks and Slovenes out. Yep, this is madness beyond belief, and it will definitely end in yet another tragedy. I sure hope that we can inject a bit of Russoskepticism into the Yugoslav movement, but it is hard since we Serbs are too close to our Russian brothers.
Starting in January 27th, the Soviets had started a new trend. They chose not to send their heavy weapons into Yugoslav territory, as they knew too well that armored vehicles tend to get caught in our anti-tank traps, but the main armies that sent their tanks in were the Hungarians and Romanians. We never saw the Bulgarians deploy their armored vehicles, but I began to feel worried about Joca since at three separate occasions we caught some assassins who tried to kill him with the help of the snipers that were hired for the hit. I was working as a receptionist inside the Communist Party headquarters in Belgrade when Joca arrived with Esteban Sedov and three other neo-Trotskyites in tow. The presence of these neo-Trotskyites must have made the conflict with the Soviets worse, for Mikoyan has proved himself to be just as bad as Hitler and Stalin combined, if not worse.
“Jovanka, we’ve got some more reports coming in from the UDBA. We’ve gotta take out Mikoyan before he can deal any more damage to us,” he told me as I picked up the folders, but noticed the note “do not read” on it.
“I will send this over to any loyal Yugoslav general left,” I replied back. Joca glanced at me as if I said something bad. “Mihailo Apostolski defected to the Bulgarians three days ago when he clashed with Koneski over the rebellion. Moreover, I do believe that the Bulgarians have bribed him with some money and a commission in the Soviet Red Army in exchange for his defection.”
“This is an outrage!” Joca shouted. “Not only that, but the IMARO are getting on my nerves and the KKE are complaining that we could not give them enough weapons to take out those damned Chetnik buffoons who showed up in Greece! At this point I’ll become the laughing stock of the entire communist movement while Mikoyan screws up orthodox Marxism even further!”
I nodded in agreement, but Milovan Djilas appeared ten minutes later. “How can I help you, Mile?”
“Comrade Tito, we have some good news,” he said as Joca grinned.
“It’s about time too.”
“The Western Allies have started their war against the Soviet Union. As we speak, they’re sending supplies to all the Eastern European states that were occupied by the Red Army, while the Soviet Union itself is facing massive rebellions within its western borders,” Djilas replied back. “However, we’ve also received disturbing news that Otto Remer has reorganized the Werewolves with NKVD help and is now sabotaging the Western Allied effort to bring down the Soviet Union.”
“So what Mikoyan does, he opens up the lid of the old fascist ghosts from the past. Next thing we know, we’ll-“ We were suddenly interrupted by an explosion outside the door. A small gunfire erupted as JNA soldiers fought back against the mysterious assassins and they managed to shoot one of them. When it was done, they brought in a dead terrorist, and we were stunned at the insignia on his uniform. The insignia looked like a checkerboard with a white cross. Yep, it’s the Krizari.
“Krizari thugs in the Yugoslav capital?” Joca continued. “How the hell did they manage to smuggle a bomb in here?”
“Moreover, what do we do with this bastard?” I asked back. I can smell blood and hear a lot of screaming.
“We pry out some answers and then we kill him.” Joca and Djilas suddenly noticed the facial appearance of the captured terrorist. “The hell? Isn’t he Rafael Boban?”
“Come to think of it, he does look a lot like that Boban character.” One of the UDBA agents grabbed the captured Krizari by the hair. “Govori, svinjo!”
“Ja ne govorim na tebe!!” Boban tried to grab something as we realized that he was trying to kill himself so we cannot interrogate him, but Djilas and a second UDBA agent managed to pry out a hidden knife from Boban’s hand. “Mate jebem!”
“Take it easy,” Joca told the UDBA agents. He turned to Boban and pinched his finger, causing the captive ex-Ustase to scream. “You say you will not talk? Perhaps a lifetime of ‘community service’ in Goli Otok will do you good, unless the inmates there just happens to know your ‘association’ and will do something about it.”
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Excerpts from the Memoirs of Anastas Mikoyan
Chapter Thirteen: The Gloves Come Off
The situation on the battlefields of Yugoslavia had become a lot more complicated due to the mass defections and desertions occurring in the western front. Aleksander Solzhenitsyn, a decorated Red Army officer, was among the defectors who unfortunately formed the core of the second Vlasovtsy rag tag military. To make matters worse, the Vlasovtsy bastards managed to spread their anti-Soviet propaganda to the captured Soviet PoWs who fell under Western Allied control. Luckily, the majority of our soldiers did not fall for such a trick, but now that we’ve effectively lost Germany, it was only a matter of time before the Allies invaded Poland. That prediction came true on February 19th, 1948 when the first sight of American and British soldiers crossing the Oder River into Poland was reported from the German-Polish border into the Kremlin. As if I did not have any more problems in my plate, the Polish Home Army are now openly engaging Red Army troops in skirmishes.
I sat down in my office, listening to my inner circle discuss about the situation in the Baltic States. From what I can tell by the tone used by my subordinates, the Balts have given us more headaches than even the Ukrainian Insurgent Army, which by the way; have started to attack CPSU headquarters. The Forest Brothers have gained a reputation as the fiercest anti-communist resistance groups in the Baltic States, and it was not a surprise that the Western Allies have aided them in their battle against the Soviet Union. One of the NKVD officers also had a map drawn out on the table as they discussed the possibility of deporting a huge number of Balts living on the border with the Byelorussian SSR and the Russian FSFR to Siberia in order to work in the Gulags. At the same time, The reorganization of the Soviet Far East forces was reassigned to the Soviet Pacific Fleet in order to allow Zhukov to travel back to Moscow.
“Comrade Mikoyan, Soviet losses in Czechoslovakia are light, but in Romania we’re facing a huge resistance movement from former Iron Guard members who we assumed to have led the anti-communist movement there. Worst of all, the neo-Trotskyites in Yugoslavia are busy assassinating Red Army soldiers who have occupied portions of Yugoslav territory,” an NKVD agent explained. “Furthermore, the Americans have succeeding in bringing Denmark into the war on their side.”
I groaned. “I knew that the Allies would woo the Danes into fighting us. After all, they guard the entrance into the Baltic Sea. Anything else?” I asked.
“Yes, comrade. Some good news is in order,” Marshal Zhukov spoke as he came into the room. “We’ve finally withdrawn to our defensive positions in the Dnieper River and are waiting for further orders. I will need the help of the NKVD though, for one special and possible suicidal mission.”
Comrade Shelepin, who was present in my room, stood up. “Comrade Marshal, I am all ears. I can send the SHMERSH forces to help you with your mission. Who do you want to kill?”
Zhukov smirked. “Stepan Bandera.” Everyone began to murmur. “Roman Shukevych, Vasyl Kuk and possibly the entire UPA leadership.”
“Comrade Marshal, we’ve already started to infiltrate the UPA with informers and double agents. What you’re suggesting could destroy our own progress there. Although you may be right on the need to kill those swine, we have to proceed carefully in this case. We cannot afford to expose our own agents to the enemy.” Shelepin showed us another map, this time of the Ukraine. “Here is where the UPA forces are at their strongest in Galicia and Volhynia. Right now, we’re trying our best to deport as much criminals as possible into the Siberian gulags while simultaneously burning down villages accused of harboring pro-UPA sentiments. If this keeps up, we might also end up fighting the UPA in addition to the Allied forces that are poised to invade the Soviet Union.”
“So what do you suggest we do for the troublesome regions like the Baltics, Eastern Europe and Ukraine?” I asked again. To my surprise, Ivan Serov stood up.
“Comrade Mikoyan, may we suggest that we resettle as much of those troublemakers to Siberia and at the same time, resettle some of the gulag inmates whom we’ve freed and granted amnesty to those border regions? I understand if you wanted to resettle some of them in the Far East, but we don’t have the demographic strength to boost the population of the Soviet Union as a whole,” Serov explained.
I agreed with him to an extent, but as we continued the discussion, a Red Army officer entered the room with a telegraph in his hand. Zhukov grabbed the telegraph from the Red Army officer who arrived and allowed him to leave. We were all curious at the new message that had just arrived, but at the same time a Bulgarian Army officer was escorted into my room by three NKVD agents. I looked up and was surprised to see Vladimir Stoychev appear in Moscow.
“Comrade Mikoyan?” the NKVD escort called me. “Comrade Stoychev has come here with some good news.”
“Let him in.” I watched Stoychev walked in with a smile on his face. “What are you so happy about?”
“Comrade Mikoyan, your Red Army troops have successfully captured all of Macedonia from the Yugoslav Army and as a result, the Macedonian communists are willing to unite with their Bulgarian brothers. However, we’re not finished yet since the Allies have now advanced deeper into Poland. Warsaw will definitely fall, so I don’t know what you have in mind,” Stoychev explained. All of the Red Army officers were shocked at Stoychev’s new information.
“Comrade Stoychev, I am not sure how you’d get this information-“ Zhukov began, but I stood up.
“If it’s really bad, then we have a golden opportunity to make trouble for the Western Allies. The problem with this though, is that we’re fighting two superpowers who could easily seduce our own people with false promises. Furthermore, they are also willing to cut a deal with any fascist politician who might become a willing stooge for Anglo-American capitalism. Finally, Poland’s role in the potential destruction of the Soviet Union is not to be underestimated. That is why I have favored the reversing of Stalin’s territorial adjustments.” I grabbed the map again and pointed at the regions that have been circled with a black felt pen. “East Prussia could be given back to the Germans if we have the right people like Otto Remer while we could compensate Poland with Galicia and if we can keep the Baltic States, we can reduce these states in size as punishment.”
Zhukov stood up and turned to me. “Comrade Mikoyan, if you will allow me, I will direct the defense of the Soviet Motherland in its western regions. There is no doubt that the Western Allies will have to fight through such bitter cold, even if they are infinitely well supplied and better equipped than the Germans. We’ll conduct guerilla operations right away.”
I gave him a nod, indicating that he’s free to launch his operation. Zhukov left my office and I turned back towards my inner circle as we continued to discuss the political situation within the Soviet state. Recently, Comrade Kosygin was interested in developing the industrial potential of Soviet Central Asia because of its remote location that made it perfect to establish a manufacturing base in addition to its vast potential for agricultural expansion. In addition, the experience of Soviet industrialization schemes in Magnitogorsk allowed us to come up with a different approach to increase the industrial development of the less well developed regions of the Soviet Union.
We kept on discussing the same topics all over again for the next two months, during which the Allies had made considerable progress in ‘liberating’ Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Poland and Albania (with Yugoslavia actually throwing their lot with the Western Allies). Only Romania and Bulgaria remained in our sphere of influence, and the Allies were growing in large numbers. Our guerrilla operations were becoming less effective as the weather warmed up in the early stages of March, and we had to do something before the Allies could set foot on Soviet soil. On the domestic front, Kosygin’s economic projects in Soviet Central Asia began underway, but we faced a lot of problems with resource extraction. Coal and iron were hard to extract in the Fergana Valley region despite the modern equipment that we have, and Soviet agricultural experts opposed the industrialization of Soviet Central Asia due to its fertile lands which was needed for their own agricultural project. I could not help but agree with the agricultural experts, even if it went against my own judgment.
It was a regular day on March 8th, 1948 in Moscow where I continued to work with my inner circle when a regional Party boss rushed into Moscow, frantically running through the halls, causing commotion with the NKVD guards who chased him through the hallway. Finally, I got out of my office and spotted the poor man who looked like he was being hunted down. The NKVD agents who chased him saluted to me as I turned to the Party boss.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
The Party boss said in a soft, but frightened tone. “Comrade Mikoyan, we have bad news.”
“What bad news?”
“Comrade Nikita Sergeyevich is dead. His car was blown up by an UPA anti-tank panzerfaust that they obtained from the Western Allies. What’s more, the Allies have invaded the Soviet Union!”
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Excerpts from “Yet Again, Conflict Calls”
by: George Patton
Bloomberg Publishing Press
Chapter Eleven: When Troubles Arise
Within the first two months of 1948, we reluctantly allowed Japan to rebuild its military industry, but only to supply us with war materiel. Goodness gracious me! The Japanese people may not have liked us in the past, but for a nation built on pride, they can surprise the whole world by being humble in the presence of stronger adversaries. The reconstructions of homes have started with lumber being chopped off from the countryside, effectively restarting Japan’s construction industry. Shipyards were being retooled to produce freight ships and other boats needed for our fight against the Soviet Union. At the same time, the Soviet Air Force was sending reconnaissance planes into Japanese territory, resulting in our deployment of fighter planes in order to ward them off.
It was on March of 1948 that I learned the unthinkable has happened: we have invaded the Soviet Union, but I was not amused when I learned that Dugout Doug is the one leading the invasion. I thought for a moment that he was supposed to stay in the United States so he can prepare for the presidential campaign that will take place in 1952. I was relocated to Hokkaido where I oversaw the construction of new airfields in the city of Sapporo. Our B-29 bombers which were supposed to arrive in the new airfields were due to bomb Soviet installations in the Far East, possibly as far as Chita or Khabarovsk. Though we have airfields in Alaska that can cater to B-29s that are parked there, they were still too far from their intended targets, and the cold weather in northeastern Siberia may have an effect on the engines.
“General Patton sir, do you need some coffee?” an adjutant asked me. I nodded and the adjutant disappeared. A minute later, the adjutant brought a cup of black coffee without the cream. “Here you go, sir.”
“Thank you.” I looked at the files that Fellers gave me a couple of hours ago and was shocked at its contents. I learned through these documents that the super-bombs won’t be ready until at least 1950 because we didn’t know where to get the uranium and plutonium for those things. It’s not like the United States has a mine full of those things. Additionally, the reports on Japanese civilians dying from radiation sickness has also haunted me ever since. “Get me Admiral Kimmel on the line.”
“Yes, sir.” Another adjutant picked up the phone and waited. “Sir, I’ve got him.”
“Thank you,” I told the second adjutant and began to talk to Admiral Kimmel. “Sir, this is General Patton.”
Kimmel on the other hand, was talking from the Yokosuka Naval Base. “It’d better be good, General Patton. I just learned that Lviv was taken by MacArthur’s forces with the help of those ex-Nazis in the Ukrainian Insurgent Army. Of course, the operation is actually led by a Canadian veteran, one Charles Foukes, and thousands of Ukrainian-Canadians were formed into a new unit called the 2nd Special Services Unit, named after the famous 1st Special Services Unit.”
“Good God! Are those guys reliable though? Ukrainian Insurgent Army fighters have a dubious reputation, you know. I’ve been briefed on these guys from General Eisenhower just before I left for Japan,” I told him. Three B-29 bombers landed in the airfield just after I gave him my response. “The 14th Waffen Grenadier Division der SS have also joined our side, but I dread the predictable purge should Mikoyan regain Galicia. Moreover, we’ve captured 2,000 Red Army soldiers as PoWs but the Ukrainian fighters just executed them. I don’t blame them for what they did, but that still goes against the Geneva Convention.”
“That kinda explains why we’ve been getting fewer PoWs lately. Mikoyan must have anticipated that we’re going to invade in the winter time, though hopefully he will make the same mistake as Stalin did and keep throwing his men into the grinder. Unfortunately, that does not seem to be the case.” Kimmel paused. An adjutant on his side arrived, hence the pause. “Listen, Patton. I have to go now. By the way, you’re authorized to launch a bombing campaign against Soviet targets in the Far East.”
“Roger that.” I hung up the phone and turned to an air force officer. “Admiral Kimmel just gave me permission to authorize a bombing campaign. Drop some bombs on Vladivostok and Khabarovsk.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Signals Corps in the Sapporo airfield continued to give me the reports of the bombing raids they carried out on the Soviet cities in the Far East. Unfortunately, one of the bombers was shot down over the Far East and crashed in the Amur River. Luckily, they were rescued by KMT holdout troops who took their time because of the Khinggan Mountains. Yet more bombers continued to take off from the airfield, unaware of the danger that lies ahead.
However, we were shocked and stunned when we heard the air raid siren and scrambled to get inside a bomb shelter, which I was to discover, there was none. I am not sure how the Soviet bombers managed to sneak into Japan, but that wasn’t the least of my worries. An explosion had rocked the airfields and some of the shrapnel managed to find its way towards me. I grunted in pain and saw blood on my hand before I saw where the bleeding came from.
“General Patton!” one soldier spotted me limping away into the command post. “Medic!”
Three medics placed me on the stretcher and rushed into the field hospital where an operator was preparing her surgery tools. As soon as I lay down in the hospital bed, the surgeon began to extract the shrapnel from my thighs. The unrelenting Soviet bombing mission was light, compared to the heavy raids we inflicted upon them in the Far East, though there were only seven Soviet bombers that flew overhead. I was lucky enough to only survive with some minor injuries and the surgeon told me that there is a low risk of infection. I was moved to a more, secure location where I can take a rest from my duties but it seems that WWIII does not allow all military leaders some rest, for Fellers just walked into my room just outside Sapporo, looking panicked as he sent me a telegram sheet.
“Sir, we have trouble in Europe,” Fellers told me. “There’s also trouble in China as well.”
“Give me Europe first,” I replied back.
Fellers nodded and handed me the telegram. I was stunned when I read the message. You can probably guess what this means:
“UPRISING IN GERMANY REPORTED. SECRET NAZI ARMY FIGHTING ALLIED FORCES, WAFFEN SS VETERANS RUMORED TO HAVE LED THIS OPERATION.”
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Excerpts from “The Eternal Flame of Ukrainian Freedom”
by: Roman Shukhevych
Chapter Seven: Lady Luck is Ukrainian
March 29th, 1948, a date which will live in the collective minds of the Ukrainian people as a whole. The Western Allies had finally reached the city of Lviv where they captured over 3,000 Red Army soldiers who simply turned them over to us and we executed them without a trial. Of course, it broke the rules of war, but at the same time we had finally avenged the deaths of not only our comrades who were killed by the Muscovite Communists, but paid them back for the Holodomor. I can never forget the heroic efforts of our fellow Ukrainians who enlisted in the Canadian Army and took part in this sacred mission to free our homeland from the grip of the Communists. With Mikoyan focusing on the Baltics, we managed to use the distraction as a way to expand our operations far beyond Galicia.
Ukrainian Insurgent Army fighters helped the Western Allies with the directions they were supposed to take in order to head towards Moscow, and I cannot help but feel excited at how we can finally destroy the nation that caused us so much grief and suffering. We know too well what the Soviets are capable of, as I recently learned with Mikoyan’s orders to deport the Baltic populations living in the border regions of the Baltic States that were close to the Russian SFSR and the Byelorussian SSR. To our surprise, the Polish Home Army was also present with the Western Allies, though tensions between our forces remained hostile. It only takes one trigger happy moron to sabotage the entire operation, but luckily we managed to keep our men under control.
Lady luck is apparently a Ukrainian weapon, according to Stepan when he notified us that a Soviet patrol unit was close by, with the local Communist Party boss being accompanied for the ride as well. Our forces prepared for the ambush, and despite our warnings, General Eisenhower was willing to come with us. I was surprised when I learned that both Eisenhower and MacArthur were commanding their forces in the drive towards Moscow, though I suspect that MacArthur wanted the glory of conquering Russia all to himself. We waited just outside the ditch in the outskirts of Dubno for the car to arrive. Sure enough, there was the Communist Party car with the two Soviet flags on the front, while four Soviet motorcycles drove on both sides of the car. I gestured for one fighter to throw a grenade into the road, but the motorcycle stopped and got out. Luckily, the grenade exploded, destroying the motorcycle at the front and killing its driver.
We opened fire upon the hapless Red Army patrols as they retaliated back by firing at us. Though we had the advantage due to the darkness, the Red Army soldiers were well armed and dangerous. In just three minutes, I lost four UPA fighters to the enemy while our comrades managed to kill three of their troops. As soon as we killed the last soldier, I gestured to Vasyl to take the wheel and we grabbed the party boss. We were stunned at the man we just captured, and some of our fighters began to kick him. I kept on watching as they vented their anger out on him, but I realized that he was going to die too soon. I decided to intervene, hoping to at least give the prisoner a few minutes to live before we carried out our sentence.
“Stop!” I snapped. My fighters simply stopped and looked at the bloodied prisoner. “Good God! Stepan Bandera was right! Lady Luck has apparently given us Nikita Khruschev!”
“Are you serious?” Vasyl asked me. I pointed at the bloodied man. “This is just like how the Germans captured Stalin’s son!”
“Get your hands off me!” Khrushchev yelled at us, unaware of our unit’s presence in his mind. “Where am I?”
“Just outside Dubno. As of now, you’re our prisoner,” I told Khrushchev. He looked at the Red Army soldiers who were already dead. “You will be tried in a special court for your crimes against the Ukrainian nation and its people.”
“You’re all nothing but a bunch of fascists!” Khrushchev snapped back, but Vasyl knocked him out cold with his rifle. I slapped him in the face because now we had to carry that fat bastard back to Lviv.
“Didn’t I tell you to not hurt him again!? I’ll have to tell Stepan that we can’t try the fat bastards due to him being knocked out!” I yelled back. Immediately, Vasyl entered the car while two UPA fighters sat on the left and right side of the car, and I sat in what the Americans called the shotgun seat. We drove for a while until we reached Lviv, by which time morning has already arrived.
Stepan approached our car after it stopped in front of Lviv’s city hall, pleased and happy with us for capturing a high value Communist Party boss. He looked disgusted at Khrushchev’s sorry state before we dragged him inside the local court, where three judges presided over this quick trial. Stepan himself played the judge and the Allies were invited to watch as we try Khrushchev for his crimes. Yep, another step closer and we could eventually do the same thing to the likes of Anastas Mikoyan.
“We now open this court with the singing of our national anthem.” The people sitting in the courtroom began to stand as I turned on the gramophone and played the tune of our national anthem. After we finished singing our anthem, we sat down and Stepan smiled at us. “The newly restored Ukrainian People’s Republic will now convene this trial against a very infamous enemy of the Ukrainian people: Nikita Serhiyovych Khrushchev. You have been accused of aiding and abetting the Muscovite mass murderers who were responsible for the Holodomor, the forced collectivization of Ukrainian farms and most of all, for engaging in a systematic campaign of ethnic cleansing against the Ukrainian population by means of deporting innocent civilians to the gulag. How do you plead?”
Khrushchev glared at Stepan. “Not guilty, and I must say that this farce of a trial has no meaning to me at all!”
Everyone started to boo at him. “Murderer!”
“Muscovite stooge!”
“Butcher!”
“Order!” Stepan hammered down the gavel, silencing everyone inside the courtroom. “Inside this court are relatives of the people whose lives your communist bosses have taken. 7,000,000 dead Ukrainians, maybe even more, and your hands are stained with their blood. Do I need to present the evidence for such a crime that we’ve seen already? Moreover, do I need to tell you of your crimes over and over again?”
“I am following orders from Moscow, and the sooner the Red Army gets its hands on you bandits, the better!” Khrushchev yelled back. Stepan sighed and hammered the gavel again.
“It’s quite obvious that you cannot be spared. Therefore, I sentence you to death, by firing squad,” Stepan replied back. The courtroom erupted in cheers as three UPA fighters standing guard began to escort the condemned communist party boss outside the courtroom and into the town square where he was made to kneel before he was set to die. Stepan aimed a pistol at him before handing it to me. “You should carry out the sentence, for it was your bravery that led to his capture.”
“Thank you, Stepan!” I told him. I aimed the gun at the back of Khrushchev’s head and fired. “Za Ukraina!” Khrushchev slumped into the ground after the bullet went into his skull and the same guards who escorted him grabbed his corpse and drove off. “This is just the beginning. By the end of this, we’ll execute Mikoyan the same way we executed Khrushchev.”
“I feel the same way, Stepan.” I patted Stepan in the back.
Turn Ten: The Price We Pay for Survival
Excerpts from the Memoirs of Jovanka Broz
Chapter Five: The Enemy of My Enemy Can Either be my Friend or my Enemy
It was chaos, I’m telling you. The reports of Soviet forces that trickled down through our territory from Hungary, Romania and Bulgaria were enormous, and there was a major revolt in Macedonia that we as Yugoslav socialists can assume that was done with Moscow’s hand in it. Unfortunately, the Serbs were not happy with Joca’s partition of Kosovo with the Albanian communists of Enver Hoxha to the point where they began to collaborate with the Soviet forces in the region. As if things could not get worse, we heard that Peko and Arso were in Moscow, talking with that Red Fascist Mikoyan on reorganizing a new Yugoslav state that would bind the Serbs with Bulgaria, but would chuck the Croats, Bosniaks and Slovenes out. Yep, this is madness beyond belief, and it will definitely end in yet another tragedy. I sure hope that we can inject a bit of Russoskepticism into the Yugoslav movement, but it is hard since we Serbs are too close to our Russian brothers.
Starting in January 27th, the Soviets had started a new trend. They chose not to send their heavy weapons into Yugoslav territory, as they knew too well that armored vehicles tend to get caught in our anti-tank traps, but the main armies that sent their tanks in were the Hungarians and Romanians. We never saw the Bulgarians deploy their armored vehicles, but I began to feel worried about Joca since at three separate occasions we caught some assassins who tried to kill him with the help of the snipers that were hired for the hit. I was working as a receptionist inside the Communist Party headquarters in Belgrade when Joca arrived with Esteban Sedov and three other neo-Trotskyites in tow. The presence of these neo-Trotskyites must have made the conflict with the Soviets worse, for Mikoyan has proved himself to be just as bad as Hitler and Stalin combined, if not worse.
“Jovanka, we’ve got some more reports coming in from the UDBA. We’ve gotta take out Mikoyan before he can deal any more damage to us,” he told me as I picked up the folders, but noticed the note “do not read” on it.
“I will send this over to any loyal Yugoslav general left,” I replied back. Joca glanced at me as if I said something bad. “Mihailo Apostolski defected to the Bulgarians three days ago when he clashed with Koneski over the rebellion. Moreover, I do believe that the Bulgarians have bribed him with some money and a commission in the Soviet Red Army in exchange for his defection.”
“This is an outrage!” Joca shouted. “Not only that, but the IMARO are getting on my nerves and the KKE are complaining that we could not give them enough weapons to take out those damned Chetnik buffoons who showed up in Greece! At this point I’ll become the laughing stock of the entire communist movement while Mikoyan screws up orthodox Marxism even further!”
I nodded in agreement, but Milovan Djilas appeared ten minutes later. “How can I help you, Mile?”
“Comrade Tito, we have some good news,” he said as Joca grinned.
“It’s about time too.”
“The Western Allies have started their war against the Soviet Union. As we speak, they’re sending supplies to all the Eastern European states that were occupied by the Red Army, while the Soviet Union itself is facing massive rebellions within its western borders,” Djilas replied back. “However, we’ve also received disturbing news that Otto Remer has reorganized the Werewolves with NKVD help and is now sabotaging the Western Allied effort to bring down the Soviet Union.”
“So what Mikoyan does, he opens up the lid of the old fascist ghosts from the past. Next thing we know, we’ll-“ We were suddenly interrupted by an explosion outside the door. A small gunfire erupted as JNA soldiers fought back against the mysterious assassins and they managed to shoot one of them. When it was done, they brought in a dead terrorist, and we were stunned at the insignia on his uniform. The insignia looked like a checkerboard with a white cross. Yep, it’s the Krizari.
“Krizari thugs in the Yugoslav capital?” Joca continued. “How the hell did they manage to smuggle a bomb in here?”
“Moreover, what do we do with this bastard?” I asked back. I can smell blood and hear a lot of screaming.
“We pry out some answers and then we kill him.” Joca and Djilas suddenly noticed the facial appearance of the captured terrorist. “The hell? Isn’t he Rafael Boban?”
“Come to think of it, he does look a lot like that Boban character.” One of the UDBA agents grabbed the captured Krizari by the hair. “Govori, svinjo!”
“Ja ne govorim na tebe!!” Boban tried to grab something as we realized that he was trying to kill himself so we cannot interrogate him, but Djilas and a second UDBA agent managed to pry out a hidden knife from Boban’s hand. “Mate jebem!”
“Take it easy,” Joca told the UDBA agents. He turned to Boban and pinched his finger, causing the captive ex-Ustase to scream. “You say you will not talk? Perhaps a lifetime of ‘community service’ in Goli Otok will do you good, unless the inmates there just happens to know your ‘association’ and will do something about it.”
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Excerpts from the Memoirs of Anastas Mikoyan
Chapter Thirteen: The Gloves Come Off
The situation on the battlefields of Yugoslavia had become a lot more complicated due to the mass defections and desertions occurring in the western front. Aleksander Solzhenitsyn, a decorated Red Army officer, was among the defectors who unfortunately formed the core of the second Vlasovtsy rag tag military. To make matters worse, the Vlasovtsy bastards managed to spread their anti-Soviet propaganda to the captured Soviet PoWs who fell under Western Allied control. Luckily, the majority of our soldiers did not fall for such a trick, but now that we’ve effectively lost Germany, it was only a matter of time before the Allies invaded Poland. That prediction came true on February 19th, 1948 when the first sight of American and British soldiers crossing the Oder River into Poland was reported from the German-Polish border into the Kremlin. As if I did not have any more problems in my plate, the Polish Home Army are now openly engaging Red Army troops in skirmishes.
I sat down in my office, listening to my inner circle discuss about the situation in the Baltic States. From what I can tell by the tone used by my subordinates, the Balts have given us more headaches than even the Ukrainian Insurgent Army, which by the way; have started to attack CPSU headquarters. The Forest Brothers have gained a reputation as the fiercest anti-communist resistance groups in the Baltic States, and it was not a surprise that the Western Allies have aided them in their battle against the Soviet Union. One of the NKVD officers also had a map drawn out on the table as they discussed the possibility of deporting a huge number of Balts living on the border with the Byelorussian SSR and the Russian FSFR to Siberia in order to work in the Gulags. At the same time, The reorganization of the Soviet Far East forces was reassigned to the Soviet Pacific Fleet in order to allow Zhukov to travel back to Moscow.
“Comrade Mikoyan, Soviet losses in Czechoslovakia are light, but in Romania we’re facing a huge resistance movement from former Iron Guard members who we assumed to have led the anti-communist movement there. Worst of all, the neo-Trotskyites in Yugoslavia are busy assassinating Red Army soldiers who have occupied portions of Yugoslav territory,” an NKVD agent explained. “Furthermore, the Americans have succeeding in bringing Denmark into the war on their side.”
I groaned. “I knew that the Allies would woo the Danes into fighting us. After all, they guard the entrance into the Baltic Sea. Anything else?” I asked.
“Yes, comrade. Some good news is in order,” Marshal Zhukov spoke as he came into the room. “We’ve finally withdrawn to our defensive positions in the Dnieper River and are waiting for further orders. I will need the help of the NKVD though, for one special and possible suicidal mission.”
Comrade Shelepin, who was present in my room, stood up. “Comrade Marshal, I am all ears. I can send the SHMERSH forces to help you with your mission. Who do you want to kill?”
Zhukov smirked. “Stepan Bandera.” Everyone began to murmur. “Roman Shukevych, Vasyl Kuk and possibly the entire UPA leadership.”
“Comrade Marshal, we’ve already started to infiltrate the UPA with informers and double agents. What you’re suggesting could destroy our own progress there. Although you may be right on the need to kill those swine, we have to proceed carefully in this case. We cannot afford to expose our own agents to the enemy.” Shelepin showed us another map, this time of the Ukraine. “Here is where the UPA forces are at their strongest in Galicia and Volhynia. Right now, we’re trying our best to deport as much criminals as possible into the Siberian gulags while simultaneously burning down villages accused of harboring pro-UPA sentiments. If this keeps up, we might also end up fighting the UPA in addition to the Allied forces that are poised to invade the Soviet Union.”
“So what do you suggest we do for the troublesome regions like the Baltics, Eastern Europe and Ukraine?” I asked again. To my surprise, Ivan Serov stood up.
“Comrade Mikoyan, may we suggest that we resettle as much of those troublemakers to Siberia and at the same time, resettle some of the gulag inmates whom we’ve freed and granted amnesty to those border regions? I understand if you wanted to resettle some of them in the Far East, but we don’t have the demographic strength to boost the population of the Soviet Union as a whole,” Serov explained.
I agreed with him to an extent, but as we continued the discussion, a Red Army officer entered the room with a telegraph in his hand. Zhukov grabbed the telegraph from the Red Army officer who arrived and allowed him to leave. We were all curious at the new message that had just arrived, but at the same time a Bulgarian Army officer was escorted into my room by three NKVD agents. I looked up and was surprised to see Vladimir Stoychev appear in Moscow.
“Comrade Mikoyan?” the NKVD escort called me. “Comrade Stoychev has come here with some good news.”
“Let him in.” I watched Stoychev walked in with a smile on his face. “What are you so happy about?”
“Comrade Mikoyan, your Red Army troops have successfully captured all of Macedonia from the Yugoslav Army and as a result, the Macedonian communists are willing to unite with their Bulgarian brothers. However, we’re not finished yet since the Allies have now advanced deeper into Poland. Warsaw will definitely fall, so I don’t know what you have in mind,” Stoychev explained. All of the Red Army officers were shocked at Stoychev’s new information.
“Comrade Stoychev, I am not sure how you’d get this information-“ Zhukov began, but I stood up.
“If it’s really bad, then we have a golden opportunity to make trouble for the Western Allies. The problem with this though, is that we’re fighting two superpowers who could easily seduce our own people with false promises. Furthermore, they are also willing to cut a deal with any fascist politician who might become a willing stooge for Anglo-American capitalism. Finally, Poland’s role in the potential destruction of the Soviet Union is not to be underestimated. That is why I have favored the reversing of Stalin’s territorial adjustments.” I grabbed the map again and pointed at the regions that have been circled with a black felt pen. “East Prussia could be given back to the Germans if we have the right people like Otto Remer while we could compensate Poland with Galicia and if we can keep the Baltic States, we can reduce these states in size as punishment.”
Zhukov stood up and turned to me. “Comrade Mikoyan, if you will allow me, I will direct the defense of the Soviet Motherland in its western regions. There is no doubt that the Western Allies will have to fight through such bitter cold, even if they are infinitely well supplied and better equipped than the Germans. We’ll conduct guerilla operations right away.”
I gave him a nod, indicating that he’s free to launch his operation. Zhukov left my office and I turned back towards my inner circle as we continued to discuss the political situation within the Soviet state. Recently, Comrade Kosygin was interested in developing the industrial potential of Soviet Central Asia because of its remote location that made it perfect to establish a manufacturing base in addition to its vast potential for agricultural expansion. In addition, the experience of Soviet industrialization schemes in Magnitogorsk allowed us to come up with a different approach to increase the industrial development of the less well developed regions of the Soviet Union.
We kept on discussing the same topics all over again for the next two months, during which the Allies had made considerable progress in ‘liberating’ Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Poland and Albania (with Yugoslavia actually throwing their lot with the Western Allies). Only Romania and Bulgaria remained in our sphere of influence, and the Allies were growing in large numbers. Our guerrilla operations were becoming less effective as the weather warmed up in the early stages of March, and we had to do something before the Allies could set foot on Soviet soil. On the domestic front, Kosygin’s economic projects in Soviet Central Asia began underway, but we faced a lot of problems with resource extraction. Coal and iron were hard to extract in the Fergana Valley region despite the modern equipment that we have, and Soviet agricultural experts opposed the industrialization of Soviet Central Asia due to its fertile lands which was needed for their own agricultural project. I could not help but agree with the agricultural experts, even if it went against my own judgment.
It was a regular day on March 8th, 1948 in Moscow where I continued to work with my inner circle when a regional Party boss rushed into Moscow, frantically running through the halls, causing commotion with the NKVD guards who chased him through the hallway. Finally, I got out of my office and spotted the poor man who looked like he was being hunted down. The NKVD agents who chased him saluted to me as I turned to the Party boss.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
The Party boss said in a soft, but frightened tone. “Comrade Mikoyan, we have bad news.”
“What bad news?”
“Comrade Nikita Sergeyevich is dead. His car was blown up by an UPA anti-tank panzerfaust that they obtained from the Western Allies. What’s more, the Allies have invaded the Soviet Union!”
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Excerpts from “Yet Again, Conflict Calls”
by: George Patton
Bloomberg Publishing Press
Chapter Eleven: When Troubles Arise
Within the first two months of 1948, we reluctantly allowed Japan to rebuild its military industry, but only to supply us with war materiel. Goodness gracious me! The Japanese people may not have liked us in the past, but for a nation built on pride, they can surprise the whole world by being humble in the presence of stronger adversaries. The reconstructions of homes have started with lumber being chopped off from the countryside, effectively restarting Japan’s construction industry. Shipyards were being retooled to produce freight ships and other boats needed for our fight against the Soviet Union. At the same time, the Soviet Air Force was sending reconnaissance planes into Japanese territory, resulting in our deployment of fighter planes in order to ward them off.
It was on March of 1948 that I learned the unthinkable has happened: we have invaded the Soviet Union, but I was not amused when I learned that Dugout Doug is the one leading the invasion. I thought for a moment that he was supposed to stay in the United States so he can prepare for the presidential campaign that will take place in 1952. I was relocated to Hokkaido where I oversaw the construction of new airfields in the city of Sapporo. Our B-29 bombers which were supposed to arrive in the new airfields were due to bomb Soviet installations in the Far East, possibly as far as Chita or Khabarovsk. Though we have airfields in Alaska that can cater to B-29s that are parked there, they were still too far from their intended targets, and the cold weather in northeastern Siberia may have an effect on the engines.
“General Patton sir, do you need some coffee?” an adjutant asked me. I nodded and the adjutant disappeared. A minute later, the adjutant brought a cup of black coffee without the cream. “Here you go, sir.”
“Thank you.” I looked at the files that Fellers gave me a couple of hours ago and was shocked at its contents. I learned through these documents that the super-bombs won’t be ready until at least 1950 because we didn’t know where to get the uranium and plutonium for those things. It’s not like the United States has a mine full of those things. Additionally, the reports on Japanese civilians dying from radiation sickness has also haunted me ever since. “Get me Admiral Kimmel on the line.”
“Yes, sir.” Another adjutant picked up the phone and waited. “Sir, I’ve got him.”
“Thank you,” I told the second adjutant and began to talk to Admiral Kimmel. “Sir, this is General Patton.”
Kimmel on the other hand, was talking from the Yokosuka Naval Base. “It’d better be good, General Patton. I just learned that Lviv was taken by MacArthur’s forces with the help of those ex-Nazis in the Ukrainian Insurgent Army. Of course, the operation is actually led by a Canadian veteran, one Charles Foukes, and thousands of Ukrainian-Canadians were formed into a new unit called the 2nd Special Services Unit, named after the famous 1st Special Services Unit.”
“Good God! Are those guys reliable though? Ukrainian Insurgent Army fighters have a dubious reputation, you know. I’ve been briefed on these guys from General Eisenhower just before I left for Japan,” I told him. Three B-29 bombers landed in the airfield just after I gave him my response. “The 14th Waffen Grenadier Division der SS have also joined our side, but I dread the predictable purge should Mikoyan regain Galicia. Moreover, we’ve captured 2,000 Red Army soldiers as PoWs but the Ukrainian fighters just executed them. I don’t blame them for what they did, but that still goes against the Geneva Convention.”
“That kinda explains why we’ve been getting fewer PoWs lately. Mikoyan must have anticipated that we’re going to invade in the winter time, though hopefully he will make the same mistake as Stalin did and keep throwing his men into the grinder. Unfortunately, that does not seem to be the case.” Kimmel paused. An adjutant on his side arrived, hence the pause. “Listen, Patton. I have to go now. By the way, you’re authorized to launch a bombing campaign against Soviet targets in the Far East.”
“Roger that.” I hung up the phone and turned to an air force officer. “Admiral Kimmel just gave me permission to authorize a bombing campaign. Drop some bombs on Vladivostok and Khabarovsk.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Signals Corps in the Sapporo airfield continued to give me the reports of the bombing raids they carried out on the Soviet cities in the Far East. Unfortunately, one of the bombers was shot down over the Far East and crashed in the Amur River. Luckily, they were rescued by KMT holdout troops who took their time because of the Khinggan Mountains. Yet more bombers continued to take off from the airfield, unaware of the danger that lies ahead.
However, we were shocked and stunned when we heard the air raid siren and scrambled to get inside a bomb shelter, which I was to discover, there was none. I am not sure how the Soviet bombers managed to sneak into Japan, but that wasn’t the least of my worries. An explosion had rocked the airfields and some of the shrapnel managed to find its way towards me. I grunted in pain and saw blood on my hand before I saw where the bleeding came from.
“General Patton!” one soldier spotted me limping away into the command post. “Medic!”
Three medics placed me on the stretcher and rushed into the field hospital where an operator was preparing her surgery tools. As soon as I lay down in the hospital bed, the surgeon began to extract the shrapnel from my thighs. The unrelenting Soviet bombing mission was light, compared to the heavy raids we inflicted upon them in the Far East, though there were only seven Soviet bombers that flew overhead. I was lucky enough to only survive with some minor injuries and the surgeon told me that there is a low risk of infection. I was moved to a more, secure location where I can take a rest from my duties but it seems that WWIII does not allow all military leaders some rest, for Fellers just walked into my room just outside Sapporo, looking panicked as he sent me a telegram sheet.
“Sir, we have trouble in Europe,” Fellers told me. “There’s also trouble in China as well.”
“Give me Europe first,” I replied back.
Fellers nodded and handed me the telegram. I was stunned when I read the message. You can probably guess what this means:
“UPRISING IN GERMANY REPORTED. SECRET NAZI ARMY FIGHTING ALLIED FORCES, WAFFEN SS VETERANS RUMORED TO HAVE LED THIS OPERATION.”
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Excerpts from “The Eternal Flame of Ukrainian Freedom”
by: Roman Shukhevych
Chapter Seven: Lady Luck is Ukrainian
March 29th, 1948, a date which will live in the collective minds of the Ukrainian people as a whole. The Western Allies had finally reached the city of Lviv where they captured over 3,000 Red Army soldiers who simply turned them over to us and we executed them without a trial. Of course, it broke the rules of war, but at the same time we had finally avenged the deaths of not only our comrades who were killed by the Muscovite Communists, but paid them back for the Holodomor. I can never forget the heroic efforts of our fellow Ukrainians who enlisted in the Canadian Army and took part in this sacred mission to free our homeland from the grip of the Communists. With Mikoyan focusing on the Baltics, we managed to use the distraction as a way to expand our operations far beyond Galicia.
Ukrainian Insurgent Army fighters helped the Western Allies with the directions they were supposed to take in order to head towards Moscow, and I cannot help but feel excited at how we can finally destroy the nation that caused us so much grief and suffering. We know too well what the Soviets are capable of, as I recently learned with Mikoyan’s orders to deport the Baltic populations living in the border regions of the Baltic States that were close to the Russian SFSR and the Byelorussian SSR. To our surprise, the Polish Home Army was also present with the Western Allies, though tensions between our forces remained hostile. It only takes one trigger happy moron to sabotage the entire operation, but luckily we managed to keep our men under control.
Lady luck is apparently a Ukrainian weapon, according to Stepan when he notified us that a Soviet patrol unit was close by, with the local Communist Party boss being accompanied for the ride as well. Our forces prepared for the ambush, and despite our warnings, General Eisenhower was willing to come with us. I was surprised when I learned that both Eisenhower and MacArthur were commanding their forces in the drive towards Moscow, though I suspect that MacArthur wanted the glory of conquering Russia all to himself. We waited just outside the ditch in the outskirts of Dubno for the car to arrive. Sure enough, there was the Communist Party car with the two Soviet flags on the front, while four Soviet motorcycles drove on both sides of the car. I gestured for one fighter to throw a grenade into the road, but the motorcycle stopped and got out. Luckily, the grenade exploded, destroying the motorcycle at the front and killing its driver.
We opened fire upon the hapless Red Army patrols as they retaliated back by firing at us. Though we had the advantage due to the darkness, the Red Army soldiers were well armed and dangerous. In just three minutes, I lost four UPA fighters to the enemy while our comrades managed to kill three of their troops. As soon as we killed the last soldier, I gestured to Vasyl to take the wheel and we grabbed the party boss. We were stunned at the man we just captured, and some of our fighters began to kick him. I kept on watching as they vented their anger out on him, but I realized that he was going to die too soon. I decided to intervene, hoping to at least give the prisoner a few minutes to live before we carried out our sentence.
“Stop!” I snapped. My fighters simply stopped and looked at the bloodied prisoner. “Good God! Stepan Bandera was right! Lady Luck has apparently given us Nikita Khruschev!”
“Are you serious?” Vasyl asked me. I pointed at the bloodied man. “This is just like how the Germans captured Stalin’s son!”
“Get your hands off me!” Khrushchev yelled at us, unaware of our unit’s presence in his mind. “Where am I?”
“Just outside Dubno. As of now, you’re our prisoner,” I told Khrushchev. He looked at the Red Army soldiers who were already dead. “You will be tried in a special court for your crimes against the Ukrainian nation and its people.”
“You’re all nothing but a bunch of fascists!” Khrushchev snapped back, but Vasyl knocked him out cold with his rifle. I slapped him in the face because now we had to carry that fat bastard back to Lviv.
“Didn’t I tell you to not hurt him again!? I’ll have to tell Stepan that we can’t try the fat bastards due to him being knocked out!” I yelled back. Immediately, Vasyl entered the car while two UPA fighters sat on the left and right side of the car, and I sat in what the Americans called the shotgun seat. We drove for a while until we reached Lviv, by which time morning has already arrived.
Stepan approached our car after it stopped in front of Lviv’s city hall, pleased and happy with us for capturing a high value Communist Party boss. He looked disgusted at Khrushchev’s sorry state before we dragged him inside the local court, where three judges presided over this quick trial. Stepan himself played the judge and the Allies were invited to watch as we try Khrushchev for his crimes. Yep, another step closer and we could eventually do the same thing to the likes of Anastas Mikoyan.
“We now open this court with the singing of our national anthem.” The people sitting in the courtroom began to stand as I turned on the gramophone and played the tune of our national anthem. After we finished singing our anthem, we sat down and Stepan smiled at us. “The newly restored Ukrainian People’s Republic will now convene this trial against a very infamous enemy of the Ukrainian people: Nikita Serhiyovych Khrushchev. You have been accused of aiding and abetting the Muscovite mass murderers who were responsible for the Holodomor, the forced collectivization of Ukrainian farms and most of all, for engaging in a systematic campaign of ethnic cleansing against the Ukrainian population by means of deporting innocent civilians to the gulag. How do you plead?”
Khrushchev glared at Stepan. “Not guilty, and I must say that this farce of a trial has no meaning to me at all!”
Everyone started to boo at him. “Murderer!”
“Muscovite stooge!”
“Butcher!”
“Order!” Stepan hammered down the gavel, silencing everyone inside the courtroom. “Inside this court are relatives of the people whose lives your communist bosses have taken. 7,000,000 dead Ukrainians, maybe even more, and your hands are stained with their blood. Do I need to present the evidence for such a crime that we’ve seen already? Moreover, do I need to tell you of your crimes over and over again?”
“I am following orders from Moscow, and the sooner the Red Army gets its hands on you bandits, the better!” Khrushchev yelled back. Stepan sighed and hammered the gavel again.
“It’s quite obvious that you cannot be spared. Therefore, I sentence you to death, by firing squad,” Stepan replied back. The courtroom erupted in cheers as three UPA fighters standing guard began to escort the condemned communist party boss outside the courtroom and into the town square where he was made to kneel before he was set to die. Stepan aimed a pistol at him before handing it to me. “You should carry out the sentence, for it was your bravery that led to his capture.”
“Thank you, Stepan!” I told him. I aimed the gun at the back of Khrushchev’s head and fired. “Za Ukraina!” Khrushchev slumped into the ground after the bullet went into his skull and the same guards who escorted him grabbed his corpse and drove off. “This is just the beginning. By the end of this, we’ll execute Mikoyan the same way we executed Khrushchev.”
“I feel the same way, Stepan.” I patted Stepan in the back.