The Russian autumn is fickle; by day it can sweat the great coat off a man, but its nights can turn a man’s toes bright blue.
But hot or cold the political officer knew his duty; the two hundredth and twenty second tank regiment was going back up the line and it was his duty to see that they faced the enemy knowing just what is was they were fighting for.
He had been taught that addressing small groups was far better than whole regiments so his audience this afternoon was a mere company, forty men who stared back at him in mute resignation.
Well, he would change that; the silence would be turned into cheers and the resignation be transformed into enthusiasm.
He began to speak, telling of the Rodina, the great Russian motherland and the great helmsman who ruled the union of all the Russia’s. He spoke with contempt about her enemies and how it was ordained that they would fall.
For long, long minutes he spoke, using every trick of rhetoric and word. never noting that the silence remained, and the stone faces remained blank.
At last, his store of words ran out and he looked in confusion at the group who were ignoring him, talking in low words until at last they nominated a spokesman.
A grizzled sergeant gave him a lazy salute in which deference had no part and handed him a package most carefully wrapped in oilskin.
‘Read this’!
It was not a request, but an order.
‘Out loud, so we can all hear’! Again, it was not a request, and he undid the tarred string to reveal several papers, some typed, some hand written.
‘Go on, read’!
The sergeant seemed most anxious to hear what was written so he began to read
‘This is the school report card of Tatiana Vladimirovich. In mathematics she gained full marks, in spoken and written language she gained full marks, in science full marks, in history full marks, in art full marks and in geography full marks. The teacher has written that ‘’Tatiana is a joy to teach and is a kind and helpful girl’’.
A little wave of smiles ran through the group, but the sergeant was still not satisfied
‘Read on’!
There was a growl in the voice which did not allow dissent, so he read from a second sheet.
‘This is a letter from the school of advanced pedagogy in Omsk. It says that Tatiana Vladimirovich has fulfilled in every respect the requirements to be admitted to the institute and that as a result of the recommendation of the institutes board of professors who have interviewed the said Tatiana Vladimirovich, a full scholarship has been offered and accepted. It goes on to say that the institute looks forward to teaching a child of such outstanding abilities ‘.
He looked up at the sergeant who had a proud smile on his face.
‘The letter, read the letter’!
There was a short, hand written letter, much handled and creased, and he began to scan the letter, before speaking the words.
‘I cannot read this; it is a private letter’!
The sergeant was unimpressed by his reluctance and gripped his elbow with hand that was obviously using only part of its strength.
‘Read the fucking thing, read it now’!
There was an odd mix of eagerness and anger in the sergeant’s eyes that compelled obedience, so he began to read.
My dearest Papa,
Firstly, I wish to say how much I miss you and how much Mama misses you, even Sasha the cat misses you!
I have some news and I hope it will make you happy.
Do you remember telling me how I must do well at school and must always try my best?
I have your picture on my desk at school to remind me!
I did very well at school and Miss Ivanovna was very pleased with me!
She called Mama up to the school, and at first, I thought I was to be punished, but Mama smiled and said I was not to worry.
The next thing I knew some men arrived at the train station. They came all the way from Omsk, Papa! Can you imagine that!
Miss Ivanova and the village council met them at the station, and I was taken to meet them.
I was a little frightened, but Mama and Miss Ivanova were with me.
They asked such funny questions, but they smiled and made me laugh so that I was not frightened anymore and then they said that I had won a prize, a very big prize, but that I must go all the way to Omsk to get it.
Mama was crying and Miss Ivanova was crying, and I cried too, but I did not know why I was crying and then Mama hugged me and the men all shook my hand and then left.
Mama says that she will make me a new dress to go to Omsk and that I must write to you and tell you of my news
I hope you are happy with your loving daughter.
Tatiana.
‘Give.’ The sergeant took back the papers and carefully re- wrapped them in the oilskin before replacing them inside his greatcoat before resuming his role as spokesman.
‘Understand this, Comrade Commissar. We’ll fight for the Rodina; we’ll fight for Comrade Trotsky, and we’ll fight to keep ourselves alive. Don’t get us wrong we’ll fight our enemies all right and fight hard, but most of all we are fighting for little Tatiana’.
The commissar stared out at the group and asked the obvious question.
‘Tatiana’s father, where is he’?
He received a shouted answer.
‘Dead! That’s where he is! Never made it past last summer’s campaign! Poor bastard couldn’t read or write to save his life, but he knew every word of that letter off by heart. I read it to him until he memorized every last fucking word!
The man was a dirt-poor peasant, but his daughter not only went to school but will one day be a scientist or a lawyer or anything she wants.
From peasant to scientist in one generation! That’s why we fight, because if we don’t then little Tatiana goes back to being a peasant’!
The company was nodding their heads in agreement now and the Commissar had never felt so useless.
His elbow was gripped again, this time more gently.
We don’t need your words, Comrade; we know what we are fighting for’!
Never had the political officer felt so useless all his words were wasted on men who knew exactly why they were fighting and needed no tricks of rhetoric to make them fight.
In a greatly humbled spirt he dismissed them, and they walked away without further acknowledging him and without even the ghost of a salute.
He wondered if little Tatania knew that her father was dead, he wondered if she knew why Russia was fighting for her life and how the war had begun.
Perhaps as a clever girl Tatania knew all these things and a great deal more.
Perhaps.
But the Political Officer definitely knew.
It all began with an old man with a very bad cold.
But hot or cold the political officer knew his duty; the two hundredth and twenty second tank regiment was going back up the line and it was his duty to see that they faced the enemy knowing just what is was they were fighting for.
He had been taught that addressing small groups was far better than whole regiments so his audience this afternoon was a mere company, forty men who stared back at him in mute resignation.
Well, he would change that; the silence would be turned into cheers and the resignation be transformed into enthusiasm.
He began to speak, telling of the Rodina, the great Russian motherland and the great helmsman who ruled the union of all the Russia’s. He spoke with contempt about her enemies and how it was ordained that they would fall.
For long, long minutes he spoke, using every trick of rhetoric and word. never noting that the silence remained, and the stone faces remained blank.
At last, his store of words ran out and he looked in confusion at the group who were ignoring him, talking in low words until at last they nominated a spokesman.
A grizzled sergeant gave him a lazy salute in which deference had no part and handed him a package most carefully wrapped in oilskin.
‘Read this’!
It was not a request, but an order.
‘Out loud, so we can all hear’! Again, it was not a request, and he undid the tarred string to reveal several papers, some typed, some hand written.
‘Go on, read’!
The sergeant seemed most anxious to hear what was written so he began to read
‘This is the school report card of Tatiana Vladimirovich. In mathematics she gained full marks, in spoken and written language she gained full marks, in science full marks, in history full marks, in art full marks and in geography full marks. The teacher has written that ‘’Tatiana is a joy to teach and is a kind and helpful girl’’.
A little wave of smiles ran through the group, but the sergeant was still not satisfied
‘Read on’!
There was a growl in the voice which did not allow dissent, so he read from a second sheet.
‘This is a letter from the school of advanced pedagogy in Omsk. It says that Tatiana Vladimirovich has fulfilled in every respect the requirements to be admitted to the institute and that as a result of the recommendation of the institutes board of professors who have interviewed the said Tatiana Vladimirovich, a full scholarship has been offered and accepted. It goes on to say that the institute looks forward to teaching a child of such outstanding abilities ‘.
He looked up at the sergeant who had a proud smile on his face.
‘The letter, read the letter’!
There was a short, hand written letter, much handled and creased, and he began to scan the letter, before speaking the words.
‘I cannot read this; it is a private letter’!
The sergeant was unimpressed by his reluctance and gripped his elbow with hand that was obviously using only part of its strength.
‘Read the fucking thing, read it now’!
There was an odd mix of eagerness and anger in the sergeant’s eyes that compelled obedience, so he began to read.
My dearest Papa,
Firstly, I wish to say how much I miss you and how much Mama misses you, even Sasha the cat misses you!
I have some news and I hope it will make you happy.
Do you remember telling me how I must do well at school and must always try my best?
I have your picture on my desk at school to remind me!
I did very well at school and Miss Ivanovna was very pleased with me!
She called Mama up to the school, and at first, I thought I was to be punished, but Mama smiled and said I was not to worry.
The next thing I knew some men arrived at the train station. They came all the way from Omsk, Papa! Can you imagine that!
Miss Ivanova and the village council met them at the station, and I was taken to meet them.
I was a little frightened, but Mama and Miss Ivanova were with me.
They asked such funny questions, but they smiled and made me laugh so that I was not frightened anymore and then they said that I had won a prize, a very big prize, but that I must go all the way to Omsk to get it.
Mama was crying and Miss Ivanova was crying, and I cried too, but I did not know why I was crying and then Mama hugged me and the men all shook my hand and then left.
Mama says that she will make me a new dress to go to Omsk and that I must write to you and tell you of my news
I hope you are happy with your loving daughter.
Tatiana.
‘Give.’ The sergeant took back the papers and carefully re- wrapped them in the oilskin before replacing them inside his greatcoat before resuming his role as spokesman.
‘Understand this, Comrade Commissar. We’ll fight for the Rodina; we’ll fight for Comrade Trotsky, and we’ll fight to keep ourselves alive. Don’t get us wrong we’ll fight our enemies all right and fight hard, but most of all we are fighting for little Tatiana’.
The commissar stared out at the group and asked the obvious question.
‘Tatiana’s father, where is he’?
He received a shouted answer.
‘Dead! That’s where he is! Never made it past last summer’s campaign! Poor bastard couldn’t read or write to save his life, but he knew every word of that letter off by heart. I read it to him until he memorized every last fucking word!
The man was a dirt-poor peasant, but his daughter not only went to school but will one day be a scientist or a lawyer or anything she wants.
From peasant to scientist in one generation! That’s why we fight, because if we don’t then little Tatiana goes back to being a peasant’!
The company was nodding their heads in agreement now and the Commissar had never felt so useless.
His elbow was gripped again, this time more gently.
We don’t need your words, Comrade; we know what we are fighting for’!
Never had the political officer felt so useless all his words were wasted on men who knew exactly why they were fighting and needed no tricks of rhetoric to make them fight.
In a greatly humbled spirt he dismissed them, and they walked away without further acknowledging him and without even the ghost of a salute.
He wondered if little Tatania knew that her father was dead, he wondered if she knew why Russia was fighting for her life and how the war had begun.
Perhaps as a clever girl Tatania knew all these things and a great deal more.
Perhaps.
But the Political Officer definitely knew.
It all began with an old man with a very bad cold.
