Korneichuk’s Front

Aleksandr Korneichuk, The Front. 1942

 

Korneichuk’s play, warning against an old-fashioned warrior mentality in a modern war of technology, was a transparent dig at Civil War heroes such as Voroshilov and Budennyi, blaming them for the disasters of the war’s first year. They were soon replaced by younger professional officers, introducing the titles and epaulettes of the traditional officer corps.

Gorlov, Commander of the Front
Gaidar, Member of the Military Council
Blagonravov, Chief of Staff of the Front
Ognev, Army Commander
Kolos, Cavalry Unit Commander
Orlik, Chief of Army Political Division
Udivitelnyi, Chief of Reconnaissance of the Front
Miron Gorlov, Commander’s Brother,
Director of an Aviation Plant
Sergei Gorlov, Commander’s Son, Guards Lieutenant
Svechka, Guards Colonel
Krikun, Special Correspondent
Khripun, Chief of Front-line Communications
Commanders, officers, staff, Red Army men, guests

ACT ONE, SCENE Two

A room in the house where GORLOV is billeted. The stage is empty, but a lot of noise is heard coming from the next room, where the guests are assembled. They are toasting GORLOV. Enter MIRON and GAIDAR. MIRON puts glasses and a bottle of wine on the table and begins to pour out.

MIRON: Come on, we might as well have another.

GAIDAR: Thanks very much, but I don’t drink.

MIRON: You were drinking at dinner.

GAIDAR: Lemonade. I’ve been on the wagon a long time now. My heart’s a bit tricky, you know.

MIRON: I’ll have to have one by myself then. All the best. Enter SERGEI GORLOV, Lieutenant of the Guards. He has a wine-glass in his hand.

SERGEI: Uncle Miron! Hey, that’s not nice, swiping a bottle from the table and running off with it like that! Come on, hand it over!

MIRON: (Filling his glass.) Lay off it, Sergei, you’ll get drunk.

SERGEI: Don’t be too rough on me, I never drink when I’m in the line. I always give my vodka ration to Chekalenko. He’s our Artillery Commander. But I feel like getting drunk tonight—if only in your honor. I’ve told my apostles how you taught me to fish and once gave me a hiding. I remember it all. (He embraces MIRON.)

MIRON: Your apostles?

SERGEI: That’s what I call my gunners. They’re real apostles, they work miracles every day.

MIRON: Apostles! (He laughs.) Not bad!

SERGEI: Comrade Member of the Military Council, don’t you think I’ve got a good uncle?

MIRON: Now then, Sergei.

SERGEI: No, come on. Tell me.

GAIDAR: Yes, very good.

SERGEI: There you are! Everybody says so, including my apostles. They’ve taken a fancy to you. They have honestly. I’m not fooling. Guardsman’s honor.

MIRON: What do you want to tell your Guardsmen a lot of nonsense about your civilian uncle for? You’d much better talk to them about their own job.

SERGEI: Oh, we like talking about civilian life after we’ve been in action. I know everything about everybody in my battery. And they know everything about me. We’re a regular family. Do you know who’s the father?

MIRON: The Political Commissar?

SERGEI: No, Chekalenko, the Battery Commander. He’s over forty and fat as butter, with a mustache like a fox’s brush. But put him out in a really nasty open spot and he’s like a lion. He tells the funniest stories. Come over and see our battery and meet the apostles: Ostapenko, Shayametov, Bashlykov, Vasya Sokol. They’re an absolutely tip-top bunch. (Voices in the next room are heard: “To the health of the Commander of the Front!” Shouts of “Hurrah” and the clinking of glasses.)

SERGEI shakes his head.

I’m not going to drink his health.

MIRON: Why not?

SERGEI: I’ve drunk my father’s health enough already. But I don’t wish to drink to him as Commander of the Front tonight. So there! Don’t look so disapproving, Comrade Gaidar. I wouldn’t say it anywhere else. I know how to behave. The Commander must be respected and obeyed without question. But I just don’t feel like drinking his health tonight and that’s all there is to it. And now Guards Lieutenant Sergei Gorlov, it’s time for you to hit the hay.

GAIDAR: Not a bad idea.

SERGEI: O.K. O.K., I’m going. But I want to say this. Why isn’t my Commander, Major-General Ognev, at this party? Do you know why? When I asked my father, he went off the deep end. He doesn’t like Ognev. Shall I tell you why? He doesn’t want to realize that my Commander, Major-General Ognev, is quite as good a man as…

MIRON: Chapaev?

SERGEI: No.

MIRON: Bagration?

SERGEI: No.

MIRON: Suvorov?

SERGEI: Don’t you dare.

GAIDAR: Who then? (A pause.)

SERGEI: Well, anyway he’s Vladimir Ognev. That’s what you’ve got to realize. But that stubborn old father of mine can’t see beyond his own nose…. Ah, it’s a shame. (He wipes his eyes.) It’s a damned shame.

He throws down his glass and goes out. The sound of a guitar comes from the next room. Somebody sings softly.

MIRON: I bet you find my brother a bit difficult to work with?

GAIDAR: Well, yes, I suppose I do. I’m a civilian, you see. Before the war I was a civil servant, so it really is rather difficult for me. One has to learn all about this business of modern warfare, and it’s not like it was in the civil war, you know. It’s all so much more complicated.

MIRON: Tell me candidly, do you think my brother really knows how we’ve got to fight nowadays?

GAIDAR: Well, he’s had a lot of experience in the civil war, of course, and he’s got his generals well in hand. He fights as well as can, you know.

MIRON: He fights as well as he can… As well as he can? But what about as well as he ought to fight? How long will it take him to reach that stage?

GAIDAR: (Laughing.) That’s what we’re all waiting for.

MIRON: Yes, but should you?

GAIDAR: Should we what?

MIRON: Wait. Waiting is a difficult and costly business.

GAIDAR: There’s nobody else to take over.

MIRON: Isn’t there? What about Ognev?

GAIDAR: He’s certainly talented, but he’s so young.

MIRON: (Laughing.) Never took part in the civil war and hasn’t got many medals, I suppose?

GAIDAR: Unfortunately that still counts before everything else with some of the High Command. No matter how brilliant a young commander may be, if he didn’t take part in the civil war with them they simply don’t recognize him. They may pat him on the back in public, but in reality they look down on him. It’s quite a job to convince them.

MIRON: Well, don’t stand for any more of it. Declare a new war on those ignoramuses who don’t know how to fight the modern way.

GAIDAR: But you can’t do that now.

MIRON: Why not? Remember what happened in industry. In the beginning a lot of our factories and combines were run by managers with an honorable past and plenty of prestige—old comrades who boasted of their callused hands, their foghorn voices and bluff manner of speaking, but they knew nothing about the technical side, and what’s more they refused to learn. They hadn’t the faintest idea how to run a factory. They couldn’t move a step without babbling about their proletarian origin, but they didn’t want to learn, they didn’t want to broaden their minds. And what was the result? The factories couldn’t have worked worse, because almost everywhere the people in charge were “authority-struck,” self-opinionated ignoramuses, and if the Central Committee hadn’t changed the tune very sharply and put engineers, technicians and people who knew their jobs at the head of the factories the workers would have said: “If you can’ t run the show properly, go to hell with your precious authorities.” That’s a fact. And no matter how loudly the ignoramuses yelled, nobody backed them up. The people love leaders who know the job and can think, they clamor for them.

GAIDAR: Yes, but you know it’s all much more complicated now. A really drastic change here might cause a complete breakdown. You’ve got to use subtler methods. The enemy’s on our territory. We’ve got to put up with people more trying than your brother if we’re going to liberate our country.

MIRON: O.K. Carry on. But I bet you’ll soon get sick of it. I’ve declared war on my brother to-day. I’m only here for two days, but I’m going to give the old buffalo the works.

GAIDAR: (Laughing.) How?

MIRON: If the guests had arrived an hour later they wouldn’t have found a plate left to eat off. My brother flung one of the dishes on to the floor with such a crack it made sparks fly. (He laughs.)

Enter the Commander’s ADJUTANT.

ADJUTANT: Comrade Gaidar.

GAIDAR: Yes, What is it?

ADJUTANT: Moscow has just rung through. You’re to attend the Defense Committee in the Kremlin at 6.30 tomorrow evening. Here’s the text of the message. (He hands GAIDAR a sheet of paper.)

GAIDAR: Tell ‘em to get a plane ready for 7:30 sharp tomorrow morning.

ADJUTANT: Very good.

He goes out.

MIRON: Pity it’s not the day after tomorrow. We could have flown together.

GAIDAR: Yes. I should have liked that. I’ll get the Commander to come out.

He goes into the next room.

MIRON: (Filling his glass with wine.) Plenty of guests, but nobody to drink with. (Raising the glass.) Here’s to you, Valya darling, anyway…. (He drinks.)

Enter GORLOV and GAIDAR.

GORLOV: (Laughing.) Look at this brother of mine, swigging all by himself! I’m fond of the beggar even if he has set himself up as a military critic.

MIRON: You wait a minute. You’re going to get it hot and strong from me as soon as your guests are out of the way.

GORLOV: Careful. You’re not behind the lines now, you’re at the front. And I’m the Commander. If I give the order, you’ll find yourself in the guardroom before you can say knife. (He laughs out loud.)

MIRON: The member of the Military Council will protect me.

GORLOV: How? A member of the Military Council may lodge a protest, of course. That I admit. But if the Commander’s worth his salt, then the Lord God Himself won’t help you.

MIRON: Oh, pipe down, you old buffalo! You’ve been spoiled, you old devil, that’s your trouble.

GORLOV: Be careful, Miron! Better watch your step. You can’t monkey around with me, you know. Come on. All the best! (He takes the glass and drinks.)

GAIDAR: Gorlov, I’ve been ordered to Moscow. I’ve got to be at the Defense Committee at half-past six tomorrow evening.

GORLOV: You alone?

GAIDAR: Yes.

GORLOV: All right—off you go tomorrow morning.

GAIDAR: We must have a word together first. I’ll get my things ready now. Come round to my place in an hour’s time.

GORLOV: All right. I’ll be there as soon as they’ve left.

GAIDAR: (To MIRON.) All the best. I hope you’re still here when I come back.

MIRON: I’ll be seeing you in Moscow, anyway. I’ll be at the Defense Committee myself. Hope you have a good trip.

GAIDAR: Thanks. He goes out.

GORLOV goes after him. After a pause, the guests enter holding their glasses. There are some civilians amongst them, including MIESTNY and GRUSTNY. MAJOR-GENERAL KHRIPUN enters at the head.

KHRIPUN: Where’s the Commander? We’re going to toast him.

MIRON: He’ll be back in a minute.

KHRIPUN: Then I propose we drink to the brother of our beloved Commander. Your brother’s a brilliant commander. I’d go so far as to call him a genius. He’s the favorite of the army. And we’re quite sure you are worthy of him. Here’s to you.

MIRON: (Smiling.) Steady on. I’m a very insignificant chap, you know.

Enter the COMMANDER.

KHRIPUN: Ah, here he is! Comrade Commander, we are fortunate enough to have with us tonight that distinguished artiste, Grustny, who is now going to say a few words and sing our favorite song to wind up the party. Silence for the one and only ‘Grustny. (He hands him the guitar.)

GORLOV: Cut out the speech. Let’s have the song right away.

GRUSTNY: Allow me, half a minute. I simply can’t tell you how happy I am. The three months I’ve spent with you at the front have made a new man of me—toughened every fiber of my body and inspired me with the titanic emotions of love and hatred…

MIRON: Listen, Grustny! You don’t want to spoil that golden voice of yours with a speech. Sing, man, sing.

VOICES: Sing… Sing… We don’t want a speech…

MIESTNY the chairman of the Town Soviet, rushes forward with a glass in his hand.

MIESTNY: As chairman of the Town Soviet, I protest. I won’t allow our intellectuals to be sat on like this. Grustny, go on with your speech.

GRUSTNY: (Wiping his eyes with his handkerchief) Tell you what. I’ll express my emotion in song. (He sits down on a chair, plays the guitar and then sings: “Otvori potikhonku kalitku” (Open the gate quietly).

Shouts of “Bravo! Bravo!” GRUSTNY bows.

MIESTNY: Bravo! That was splendid. Come on, let’s dance. (He squats down and kicks out his legs in a Russian dance…)

GORLOV: You’ll really have to excuse me, my dear guests. I’ve got some work to do.

MIESTNY: So have we. I’ll be working till morning, doing my utmost for the front. Now, come on, civilians, three cheers for our great Commander and strategist who’s saved our town from the Fascists, Lieutenant-General Gorlov!

The civilian guests shout: “Hurrah!” run up to GORLOV and shake his hand. MIESTNY tries to kiss him.

GORLOV: I’m very grateful to you, civilian comrades, and also to my military colleagues, for all the kind things you’ve said, but there are one or two remarks I’d like to make. You know the kind of chap I am. I always speak my mind. In the first place, it’s not correct to say, as many of you have been saying tonight, that the whole series of great, I might even say historic, victories on my front depend only on myself as Commander. That’s not true at all.

MIESTNY: (Shouting.) No, no. You’re wrong. You’re wrong!

GORLOV: Shut up, Miestny. Our victories also depend on the courage of the troops.

MIESTNY: Yes, yes, you’re right, you’re right!

GORLOV: And in the second place, there’s another thing I disagree with. You’ve also talked a lot of high falutin nonsense about my being a brilliant commander, a genius even. But I’m just a simple, ordinary chap. I began my military career after finishing at my “university”—the local village school. And I haven’t been to any other universities whatsoever. I didn’t learn to wage war in military academies, but in action. I’m no theoretician. I’m an old war-horse. The other day a foreign correspondent said: “As a commander, General Gorlov is not to be judged by ordinary standards.” These bourgeois specialists can’t understand how Gorlov, a son of the soil, who’s neither academician nor theoretician, is beating the vaunted German Generals, who are both. (He laughs.)

Applause. Voices shout: “Bravo!”

MIESTNY: Gorlov is beating them and he’ll go on beating them, because he expresses the spirit of our people. (Applause.)

GORLOV: That’s right, Miestny. That’s right. You’ve hit the nail on the head. The spirit of our people is simple and sincere. “Leave me alone and I’ll leave you alone. But if you start playing around with me, you’d better watch out.” The spirit is what counts in an army commander. So long as he’s full of guts, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Aren’t I right? Voices: “Yes, you’re right.” “That’s right.” (Applause.) I’m not used to sitting long hours in a study racking my brain over maps. War’s not a staff college. The main thing is to search out the enemy and go for him wherever you find him. Get on with the job. Never mind about the theoretical discussion. Aren’t I right? Voices: “That’s right! That’s the way!” (Applause Unfortunately, some of my Generals still fail to understand this simple truth. I’ve got one or two book-strategists who keep chattering about military culture. We’ve got to knock all that nonsense out of their heads.

MIRON: That’s just where you’re wrong. Our trouble is we still have too many ignorant commanders who don’t understand modern warfare. You can’t win this war on courage alone, you’ve got to know how to fight the modern way, and you’ve got to learn how to do that. Civil war experience is not enough.

GORLOV: There you are, you see. Even my own brother starts chattering about culture. Now I ask you, what the devil has culture to do with war, which is its exact opposite? Our trade is the roughest of all- you can’t fight in cultural kid gloves. Well, Comrades, thank you again for your generous sentiments. Better get some sleep now, and we soldiers will get on with the job. Aren’t I right, Khripun?

KHRIPUN: Absolutely.

MIESTNY: Let’s have one more drink and then we’ll do our utmost for the front. (He fills his glass and drinks.)

GRUSTNY: (To GORLOV.) Might I have your autograph?

GORLOV: Yes, if you like. (He writes his signature.)

GRUSTNY: Thank you. This is the happiest day of my life. Good night.

ALL: Goodnight, General. Good night.

They go out. From the corridor comes the sound of voices: “What a man!” “He’s clever, you know, he’s clever.” “There’s a real army commander for you.”

MIESTNY’s VOICE: (Off.) He’s saved our town.

MIRON: (Closing the door.) Phew!… At last!

GORLOV: Fine bunch, eh?

MIRON is silent.

What are you thinking about?

MIRON: I’m thinking: God Almighty, when will our country see the last of fools, ignoramuses, grovelers, nincompoops and toadies?

GORLOV: At it again! Never mind, think as much as you like. Thought killed the turkey-cock, as they say down our way.

He laughs out loud and goes into the next room.

MIRON: That’s right! It’s too late to think. We’ve got to smash these conceited ignoramuses, smash them to pieces and replace them as quickly as possible with new, young, talented men. If. we don’t our great cause may be lost.

ACT TWO, Scene One

OGNEV’S H.Q. A large room still showing traces of German looting. A heap of battered books in a corner. When the curtain rises the ADJUTANT is standing near a table on which are several telephones, going out of the window. Enter KOLOS.

KOLOS: Started snowing again.

ADJUTANT: Time it stopped.

KOLOS: So that their planes can dive-bomb my horses? Don’t be a bloody fool!

ADJUTANT: Sorry, General.

KOLOS: Where’s General Ognev?

ADJUTANT: In the Square. (Points.)

KOLOS: (Looking out of the window.) What’s all that crowd doing?

ADJUTANT: Funeral. They’ve just brought in the bodies.

KOLOS: Were they soldiers?

ADJUTANT: No, civilians shot by the Germans. The General’s been out there—trying to identify his father.

KOLOS: Yes, the old man stayed on, didn’t he?

ADJUTANT: This used to be his house.

KOLOS: (Picking up books and looking at them.) All about geography.

ADJUTANT: He was a schoolmaster. The Germans shot sixty people just outside the town the day before yesterday. Apparently they had a lot of fun with them. Most of the faces are slashed to pieces. The locals say old Ognev was one of them. They say he marched to execution at the head. Barefoot. No hat. Singing. They were all singing.

KOLOS: Singing, eh?

ADJUTANT: The General’ll tell you all about it. The Germans took their boots away.

KOLOS: We’ll take the hide off those bastards.

Enter OGNEV. He sits down silently at the table, and rests his head on his hand.

OGNEV: (Quietly.) Grigory… Grigory…

KOLOS: What’s the matter, Volodya?

OGNEV: I couldn’t recognize him. I couldn’t recognize my own father. They mutilated every one of them, the beasts! What a frightful sight! Bodies riddled with bullets and slashed to pieces. Eyes gouged out. There they lie, but they marched out proudly singing. “Be brave, comrades, keep in step”, that’s what they sang… And those beasts tortured them for it.

KOLOS: Take it easy, Volodya. Take it easy, old chap. It’s all over now.

OGNEV: He used to sit at this very window late into the night. A little old man in spectacles, coughing, and correcting his pupils’ exercise books. For forty years he taught the children geography… He always longed to go and see the Pamirs, “The Roof of the World.” I promised him to take him. (A pause.) He told everybody the Germans wouldn’t get any further because his son was near here and he wouldn’t let the Germans get his home town and the house where he was born. He was waiting for me—dear old father, you didn’t know how hard it was for me. You didn’t believe it. Yes, you expected something better from me…

The sounds of a Funeral March come softly from the square. OGNEV gets up and looks out of the window. KOLOS gets up.

They’re filling in the grave… Good bye, Father… Good bye… They’ll know you again, old schoolmaster. They’ll know you again in your son, I swear this over your grave: you’ll hear my revenge through the earth and then you’ll forgive me, you dear, good old man.

KOLOS: Volodya! (He embraces him.)

The sounds of the Funeral March grow louder. Farewell volleys resound. Enter the ADJUTANT.

ADJUTANT: General Ognev, a major from G.H.Q. has arrived.

KOLOS: Let him wait a bit.

OGNEV: No, tell him to come in. (He sits down at the table.)

The ADJUTANT goes out. Enter the MAJOR.

MAJOR: Major Gusakov from G.H.Q.

OGNEV: Sit down.

MAJOR: Dispatch for you. (He hands him the dispatch.)

OGNEV unseals it and reads.

KOLOS: You must be frozen.

MAJOR: (Shakes his head.) Matter of fact, we had a pretty hot time getting here.

OGNEV: Tell the Chief of Staff I thank him for his warning, which is exactly what I drew his attention to before operations began.

He hands the dispatch to KOLOS, who reads it.

KOLOS: When we warned him he didn’t take any notice. Now it’s too late he sends us a dispatch. Well, I suppose that’s something.

OGNEV: Tell me, is G.H.Q. in touch with the tank corps yet?

MAJOR: I don’t think so. I don’t know for certain.

OGNEV: Where was it yesterday?

MAJOR: I’ve no information about that.

OGNEV: Is General Orlov asleep? The Germans have already got our corridor under fire.

MAJOR: I’ve found that out all right. But why Orlov is asleep, search me.

OGNEV: You don’t seem to know much, do you? What the hell have you come here for? What are you? A Staff Officer or just a dispatch rider?

MAJOR: My orders are to hand you the dispatch and go straight.

OGNEV (Interrupting) Oh, I see! Hand over the dispatch and to hell with us, eh? You’ve got to get back. So that’s it, is it?

MAJOR: General Ognev, I’m afraid I have some rather unpleasant news for you. It was only with the greatest difficulty that I managed to get through to you at all. The corridor no longer exists. I was under enemy mortar fire the whole way and they damned nearly got me. I suppose you know you’re cut off and surrounded?

OGNEV: What?

MAJOR: No doubt about it.

OGNEV: Stand up.

The MAJOR stands up. OGNEV looks at him with contempt.

Report yourself to the town commandant in the house opposite and tell him I’ve ordered you to be put under arrest.

MAJOR: But, General Ognev, I’m the representative of G.H.Q. Staff.

OGNEV: Silence! Carry out my orders!

MAJOR: Very good.

He goes out.

KOLOS: I thought you were going to sock him one. What a wretched creature.

OGNEV: If he wasn’t from G.H.Q. I’d sock him so hard he’d never use that word again.

Enter the CAPTAIN, who is O.C. Communications for OGNEV’S force.

CAPTAIN: Code message, Comrade Commander.

OGNEV: (Taking and reading it and handing it to KOLOS.) How are communications?

CAPTAIN: The gunfire’s a hindrance and the Germans are making a hell of a row in the ether, but we’re holding on.

OGNEV: (To KOLOS.) How do you like that?

KOLOS: Beats me altogether.

CAPTAIN: May I go?

OGNEV: Yes.

The CAPTAIN goes out.

KOLOS: Either the Commander of the front doesn’t understand anything at all or else he doesn’t want to understand. We’re to dig ourselves in here and wait. Wait for what?

OGNEV: Till the Germans bring up everything they’ve got. Then it’s ten to one he’ll say: “How did you damned fools manage to get caught in spite of all my efforts to bash sense into your heads Why didn’t you use your eyes? What d’you expect me to do for you now?”

KOLOS: That’s just about what he will say, the old rhino. Damn him! How on earth did he get this way?

OGNEV: All limited people are like that. As soon as they get authority they become infatuated with themselves and their only pleasure is to throw their weight about. So, of course, they always trying to bash sense into people’s heads.

The telephone rings. He picks up the receiver.

Yes… Where are you? All right. Come round.

KOLOS: Who was that?

OGNEV: That was Orlik, Chief of our Army Political Department. The crazy devil nearly got killed yesterday. As it was, he was hit in the arm by a shell splinter. He always charges right in the hottest spots.

KOLOS: I thought he was your philosopher.

OGNEV: He’s clever all right. He used to be a Political Instructor. Speaks two languages fluently. I always call him Professor.

KOLOS: And he’s tough as well?

OGNEV: I’ll say he is! He may look thin and wear glasses, but that guy can stand up to anyone.

KOLOS: My Commissar’s called Strategistov, a strapping hulk of a fellow. I had a hell of a job finding a horse up to his weight. He’s not so hot at brainwork, but he certainly knows how to ride. He’s a born horseman, absolutely devoted to them.

OGNEV: (Laughing.) Strategistov—what a priceless name; where did you unearth him from?

KOLOS: I didn’t. He was wished on me. I’ve nicknamed him Hoof. It seems to suit him better.

OGNEV: Does he mind?

KOLOS: Lord, no, he’s got a sense of humor…

Enter ORLIK. His arm is bandaged.

OGNEV: Orlik, you devil—I’ve got a bone to pick with you. What do you mean by going into action with the third battalion? As chief of our Political Department, you’re not supposed to act recklessly.

ORLIK: Well, you see, Comrade General, it was like this. Division Intelligence reported that enemy agents were trying to stir up trouble in the third battalion, starting dangerous talk.

OGNEV: Who was it? Some of our people?

ORLIK: Yes. The Commissar of the battalion was a very vigilant comrade, super-vigilant in fact. He discovered everything double quick time and immediately reported it to the authorities. By the time it reached me it was all over. Two men were at the bottom of it, and can you beat it, both of them h been decorated.

OGNEV: What! What sort of things had they been saying?

ORLIK: Oh, very dangerous talk. (Laughs.) You’ll scarcely believe it, but they said the Battalion Commander and the Political Instructor were regular gentlemen, who’d got their own private chef and guzzled enough for five people while the enlisted mess was a damned disgrace. The men gave the cook a hiding because he always gave them such filthy stew.

OGNEV makes a note.

You needn’t write it down. I’ve raised such a hell of a row in the battalion that it’ll be a long time before they forget it. Both the Political Director and the Commander.

OGNEV: The rats! Make me out a short report and I’ll sign it. I’ll add a ruling that in future all commanders are forbidden to have any food until the men have had theirs.

ORLIK: That’s the stuff. I’ll do it right away.

KOLOS: Now tell us, how did you manage to get into the thick of it? How did you get wounded?

ORLIK: (Laughing.) Learning that I was going to make such an important address to the men, the Germans decided to launch an attack.

KOLOS: And then?

ORLIK: Well, I couldn’t very well say to the men: “You buzz off and do your fighting, Comrades, and when you’ve finished I’ll come back and go on with my talk.”

KOLOS: And then I suppose you went into the attack shouting “Hurrah for the Motherland!”?

ORLIK: Not me! Their Commander has a voice like a trumpet. I joined up with the trench mortar boys. They even let me have a go. My mines went over all right. Admittedly the Battery Commander flew into a rage and said: “You something, why the flaming hell can’t you shoot quicker!” I gave up after that and let a gunner take over.

OGNEV: I think you did very well.

ORLIK: I didn’t mind his cursing me. Anyway, he was quite right. Hey, is there any answer from the Commander of the front?

OGNEV: (Going to the door and calling to the ADJUTANT.) Tell the Chief of Staff to come in.

Voice: (Off.) Very good.

OGNEV: Read that.

He hands the message to ORLIK, who reads it.

KOLOS: Do you understand what this means?

ORLIK: Probably it means the Tank Corps is coming here.

OGNEV: You can forget about the Tank Corps. The whole front is searching all over the place for it.

ORLIK: Why?

KOLOS: Don’t you know what sort of communications we ve got They’ve reported me dead and buried twice already.

ORLIK: It’s partly your own fault.

KOLOS: Why? One of my radio stations has been bombed and the other is out of action. I need twenty-two, not two.

ORLIK: How many have you got now?

KOLOS: Oh, I’m all right now. I gave Khripun a hell of a shake up and got the stuff straight away. It’s always the same story here. They won’t deal anything out, even though the stores are full to bursting. They all hang back and hum and haw until you get hold of them by the throat and squeeze them till their eyes bulge out of their sockets. Then they fork out and even sing your praises afterwards. They’re just like the merchant in the old days: You could be at death’s door in front of his eyes and he’d pretend he didn’t see you, but if you grabbed him by the beard he’d open up his money-bags, bow down to the ground and thank you into the bargain.

Enter the CHIEF OF STAFF and COLONEL SVECHKA.

CHIEF OF STAFF: I’ve brought Colonel Svechka along. The situation is getting complicated.

OGNEV: Has the ski patrol returned?

SVECHKA: Yes, they’re back and they’ve done the job.

OGNEV: Fine They’ve been pretty quick! Report, please.

SVECHKA: (Pulling out a map.) Now this, where my finger is, is the Communard State Farm. From here that’s about…

OGNEV: Thirty-three miles. Go on.

SVECHKA: A group of about a hundred and fifty tanks has been discovered…

OGNEV: Just a second. (He marks his map.) Well?

SVECHKA: This morning an S.S. Division and two hundred tanks arrived at the village of Sinitsino east of the farm. Another column of about two regiments is on its way there. This movement was reported to our scouts by a guerrilla detachment. Two of them have arrived.

CHIEF OF STAFF: I’ve just had a talk with them.

OGNEV: What sort of detachment? How big is it?

CHIEF OF STAFF: About fifty men.

OGNEV: Locals?

CHIEF OF S.: Yes.

OGNEV: Do they know the roads?

CHIEF OF S.: They could walk along them blindfold. These men have given us extremely valuable information. It appears that the Germans have built a new road leading from the river to Kolokol station. (He indicates it on his map.) Here it is. They commandeered the entire population and made them work on it day and night. Over three thousand people died of cold or were shot on this road.

OGNEV: I make it eighteen miles away.

CHIEF OF S.: That’s right. They’ve built strong bridges along the road, but at present they’re not using it for transport. Probably for fear of being spotted by our reconnaissance planes.

OGNEV: Very likely. Go on.

SVECHKA: That’s all. At 11.20 hours our scouts discovered enemy units here, and at 12.00 at the collective farm.

CHIEF OF S.: Divisional Commander Yakovenko has just reported that his scouts have discovered an enemy movement from Kolokol towards our corridor.

OGNEV: How many?

CHIEF OF S.: One division and about seventy tanks.

OGNEV: Where exactly?

CHIEF OF S.: At 15.40 they were here. (Points to map.)

OGNEV: And now it s 16.00.

CHIEF OF S.: That s right.

OGNEV (To SVECHKA.) What s it like up your way beyond the farm?

SVECHKA: Quiet. Enemy concentration’s very weak. If you give the order, I’ll push on right up to the river.

OGNEV: Oh, no you don’t. That’s just what they’re praying for. You’re too far advanced as it is. You may get a visit from their tanks this evening, and your position’s lousy. I order you to withdraw and join up with us here immediately. All our forces have got to bunch together in a fist. Cover your withdrawal with artillery and aircraft in the proper manner, so that the enemy don’t mess up your rear. Come and report the execution of the order at 19.00 hours. Off you go.

SVECHKA: Very good, Comrade Commander. But it won’t be an easy job to transfer a complete division in three hours. Look at the distance. Let’s see: how many miles…

OGNEV: (Interrupting.) Don’t reckon in miles, man, we’ve got to reckon in seconds now. You’ll report at 18.30 instead of 19 hours, if you stand here any longer, you’ll find yourself reporting at…

SVECHKA: O.K., Comrade Commander. I’ll report at 18.30. Exit.

OGNEV: (Looking at the map, measuring with a pair of compasses and making a note.) Ah, that’s good… Now I see their little game… Ugh, what swine those Germans are!

CHIEF OF S.: They’ve planned it all very neatly.

OGNEV: Who?

CHIEF OF S.: The German Command. Look how cunningly they’re moving.

OGNEV: Cunning be damned! Why it’ child’s play. If the German Command had made the sort of mistake our Commander made the day before yesterday I’d have wiped out forces three times the size of ours. There’s nothing cunning in what they’re doing. On the contrary, they’re very slow at taking advantage of our stupidity, very slow. What’s Gorlov’s strategy worth now, eh? His Tank Corps has gone and got itself stuck somewhere on these God-forsaken roads, while the Germans have been building a brand new road right under our noses that nobody knew anything about. Gorlov said there were no tanks, but there they. re complete with infantry rushing at us as bold as brass They’ve blocked our corridor while Orlov was fast asleep. I bet at this moment they’re having a full dress rehearsal of how they’re got to shout to us tomorrow morning: “Russ Kaput. Surrender Russians, you’re surrounded.” But we’re going to give ‘em a smashing answer. (He looks at the map.)

A pause.

KOLOS: Not so sure about the smashing.

OGNEV: Oh, I am. (Looking at the map and making a note.) Aren’t you, Orlik?

ORLIK: You bet.

OGNEV: What I like about you, Professor, is your healthy, intelligent optimism. Look here, boys. Look at the map. The enemy have withdrawn their garrison from Kolokol in order to trap us. They’ve sent half their tanks against us and the other half is engaged with our Tank Corps somewhere miles away on the roads It’s simply a matter of foot-slogging, as dear old Suvorov used to say, foot-slogging and forced marches and popping up where the Germans least expect us. We’ll leave two regiments in the town, all our dear little heavy guns, and four squadrons of cavalry as a blind. There you are, Fritz, it’s in the bag. The army’s standing waiting for your pincers. We’ll ask you, Professor, and your Guards to hang on to this convenient hillock only for twenty-four hours. As soon as it gets dark the rest of us (turns to KOLOS), including your dear little horses, will creep out on to the new road and charge like hell at the back gates of Kolokol. By the time we’ve got the station, the German tank will have to make a pretty quick withdrawal, but it will be too late then. All their stores of petrol, shells and food will have fallen into our hands and we’ll bayonet the hell out of them in their own fortifications. How about it? Have a look at the map and unload your criticisms. (A pause.) What’s the matter, old man. You’re looking like an undertaker.

KOLOS: (Looking at the map.) Comrade Commander, you’ve put forward a very risky proposal. I must have time to think it over.

OGNEV: Two picked squadrons of our toughest men will lead the vanguard. They’ll knock out the sentries and to give it the finishing touch, we’ll dress up our men in German uniforms. Fortunately, we’ve taken enough prisoners for that.

ORLIK: I don’t think we ought to use enemy uniforms. That’s kind of low-down trick the Fritzes play on us.

OGNEV: I think we’re crazy to fight honestly against an enemy who’s up to every dirty trick in the game. They trick, and we don’t answer with anything. Suvorov stressed the importance of cunning in warfare, but some of our home-grown generals have forgot all about it. The only answer to cunning is more cunning.

KOLOS: (Turning away from the map, to the CHIEF OF STAFF.) What’s your opinion?

CHIEF OF S.: There’s no other way

OGNEV: Hey, you can cut that out. I’m not suggesting this operation because there’s no other way out.

CHIEF OF S.: I didn’t make myself clear. I consider it’s the best we can do under the circumstances.

KOLOS: It’s awfully risky. Suppose they guess our move?

OGNEV: That’s just why nobody must be told where we’re going. Our most dangerous enemies at present are spies and gossip. And they’re all over the place, even in our army.

KOLOS: Really?

OGNEV: Of course they are. The Germans are past-masters at monkey business.

CHIEF OF S.: We’d better put forward our proposal to the Commander of the Front in code.

OGNEV: Oh, no, we won’t.

KOLOS: Why not?

OGNEV: He’d waste hours “hammering sense into my skull” and we’d miss the bus.

ORLIK: Not very good form, is it.

OGNEV: I know, but all this “good form” will drive me crazy. I’ve had just about enough! Gorlov got us into this mess. Let’s get out of it with honor; that’ll be the best thing for him as well. Come on, Chief of Staff. Write out the order. Firstly…

Enter OGNEV’S Chief of Communications.

CAPTAIN: Code telegram from the Commander of the Front. (He delivers it.)

OGNEV reads it. The pencil snaps in his hand and falls on the table. ORLIK goes over and reads in silence.

OGNEV comes out quickly from behind the table, which is near the door, and hands it to KOLOS who reads it and passes it on to the Chief of Staff.

OGNEV: Well, what have you got to say?

KOLOS is silent.

Answer me! (A pause.) Say something. (He snatches the telegram out of the hands of the Chief of Staff:) What does it mean?

KOLOS: The Commander of the Front suggests an immediate withdrawal to our initial position. True, he asks whether you have any objections, but that’s only a matter of form. In one hour this suggestion will become an order

OGNEV: I know all about that. I can read.

KOLOS: Well, there we are, orders are orders, we shall have to fight our way back.

OGNEV: That’s obvious. But in the first place, it’s not yet an order. It’s still a suggestion. In the second place it’s incorrect in conception and altogether disastrous. He tells us to fight our way back. What for? Where’s the Tank Corps? He says it’s had rather a battering and can’t help. That’s a lie. It’s wiped out. And now it appears that my army is going to get a battering,

KOLOS: We’ll be able to fight our way back.

CHIEF OF S.: The Commander wants to straighten the line and he’s decided to withdraw.

OGNEV: Oh, go to hell! The ravens are already circling. First he makes us advance and it doesn’t work. Now he wants us to withdraw at any cost. Surely there must be an alternative? I haven’t been sacrificing my men breaking down the German defenses merely to fight my way back again. My army’s going to live and fight and win! We can do it and we’re damn well going to do it. Enter CAPTAIN.

CAPTAIN: A code telegram from Gaidar, member of the Military Council of the front. From Moscow. (He hands it over.)

OGNEV: (Reads it and his face lights up.) This is terrific! There’s still some justice in the world after all. Listen—Moscow gives a free hand. We’re to act according to our plan. That mean we attack. Never mind about the Commander’s suggestion.

KOLOS: Really?

OGNEV: Yes, and here’s another “really” for you. I asked Gaidar to submit both our plan and Gorlov’s to the proper quarter in Moscow. Now Gaidar tells me that Moscow approves of our plan and Gorlov has been informed accordingly.

KOLOS: (Joyfully.) That’s fine! Well, let’s get going right away and burn up the Germans till we scorch the very skies.

OGNEV: That’s the stuff.…

ACT THREE

GORLOV’S Headquarters. Morning a few days later. Enter ADJUTANT. He arranges a water jug on the table, lays out pencils and sharpens them. Special Correspondent KRIKUN can be seen through the open door.

KRIKUN: (Standing in the doorway.) Do you think the Commander will be here soon?

ADJUTANT: I doubt it. He’s been up all night at Communications. I expect he’ll go to his quarters and turn in. He’s got to sleep some time.

KRIKUN: Think he’ll look in here on the way?

ADJUTANT: You never know. You can wait.

KRIKUN: It s really most unfortunate. I’ll have Moscow phoning through in half an hour. I’ve got to let them have an article on the heroic death of the Commander’s son.

ADJUTANT: Let them have it, then.

KRIKUN: Well you see, the trouble is my article ends up like this. Listen. (He takes out the article and reads aloud.) “He met his death in front of my eyes, this magnificent young man, the worthy son of his father. Through the thunder of the gun-fire, I heard his last gallant words: ‘Tell my father I die calmly in the knowledge that he will take vengeance on those bloody reptiles for my death.” If only I could get a few words from his father. This is the sort of thing I want from him. (Reading.) “The old General sat with bowed head for a long time after hearing of the death of his beloved son. When at last he raised his head, there were no tears in his eyes—no, not one! His eyes glowed with the sacred fire of vengeance. In a firm voice he said: ‘Sleep in peace, my son. Don’t worry. I will avenge you. I swear it on the honor of an old soldier.’ ” Don’t you see, if I could only check up on it right away, I’d have the scoop of a lifetime. But what can I do? Moscow will be ringing any minute now. What do you think? Could I check up on it by ‘phone?

ADJUTANT: I don’t know how you’ll check up on the Commander’s eyes over the ‘phone ‘ We aren’t wired for television, you know.

KRIKUN: My dear fellow if I only wrote about what I saw, I’d never be able to do my daily piece. My stuff wouldn’t be anything like so popular. My editor insists on an article from me every day. Our readers have got used to me. The paper can’t come out without Krikun. All the others are green with envy. They’re always telling my editor how lucky he is. They say they’d willingly exchange their whole staff of special correspondents for one Krikun.

ADJUTANT Yes, you certainly know how to churn it out. I read your stuff every day. It’s slick all right.

KRIKUN: Well, what’s to be done? How do I call up the Commander?

ADJUTANT: You can’t ring him there.

KRIKUN: (Glancing at the clock.) I’m late already. I’ll send it over as it stands. I don’t suppose the Commander will object. What do you think? After all, it’s a lovely piece of writing.

ADJUTANT: Not bad.

KRIKUN: I must rush off and send it. Be seeing you. (He goes out.)

Enter BLAGONRAVOV and UDIVITELNY.

BLAGONRAVOV: Hasn’t he come?

ADJUTANT: Not yet.

BLAGONRAVOV: He ‘phoned up and said he was on the way. (He sits down.)

The ADJUTANT goes out.

UDIVITELNY: Who could have expected we’d lose the tank corps? I can’t get over it. All our information indicated…

BLAGONRAVOV: What information! We never had any proper information. That’s the whole trouble.

UDIVITELNY: The way you talk anyone would think we hadn’t got an Intelligence Service.

BLAGONRAVOV: That’s exactly what I do think—so far as our front is concerned. The front-line units see what the enemy’s doing—as far as the first hillock. But what’s beyond that they have to guess. If it wasn’t for the air force, we’d know absolutely nothing. But air reconnaissance can’t do everything. Besides it always needs checking.

UDIVITELNY: Blagonravov, I’m surprised at you. The daily reports I prepare for you so that…

BLAGONRAVOV: (Interrupting.) I’ve decided not to read them. Look here, we’ve had enough of this. We’ve got to take serious steps—otherwise we’ll be court-martialled. Proper intelligence is always fifty per cent of any success, sometimes even a hundred. Any fool can tell you that. But here we are groping about like a lot of blind men. It’s absolutely scandalous.

UDIVITELNY: (Surprise.) You seem to imply that we’re…

BLAGONRAVOV: Fools, of course we’re fools. I’m a fool because I work with you. As for you, well, that’s just the way you were born.

UDIVITELNY: Comrade Chief of Staff, I’d have you know the Commander has a different opinion of my work and he’s known me a good many years. I protest. Besides, I’ve been decorated.

BLAGONRAVOV: I know what the Commander thinks of you. As for your decoration that was simply a misunderstanding.

UDIVITELNY: Aha, so you think the Government made a mistake in decorating me?

BLAGONRAVOV: Yes, I do. They’ve made two mistakes. The first was when they decorated you. And the second mistake is that they still haven’t stripped us of our decorations and disgraced the pair of us publicly.

He goes out.

UDIVITELNY: (Takes out a note-book and writes in it.) Government making a mistake. Government’s made two mistakes… Our intelligence service is rotten. Now what else did he say? Aha! (A pause.) He called me a fool. It’s a plain case of defeatism. You wait a bit. You’ll soon find out what sort of Intelligence Officer I am. (Takes up the telephone receiver.) Get me Ivanov… Ivanov this is Udivitelny. When’s the next meeting of the Party Bureau? Today? Good. I’ve got a little matter that needs looking into. Listen, I suppose you don’t remember what sort of family Blagonravov comes from? Aha! The son of a deacon, eh? No wonder… Yes… That’s all. I’ll be there. (He puts down the receiver.) Enter the COMMANDER. Morning, Comrade Commander.

GORLOV: Morning. Phew, I’ve got a splitting headache. Haven’t slept a wink the whole night.

UDIVITELNY: How can you, Ivan? You know your health is precious to the whole country.

GORLOV: Never mind. What have you got?

UDIVITELNY: This is for you. (He hands him a paper.)

GORLOV: Good. I’ll have a look at it later on.

UDIVITELNY: Comrade Commander, I think you ought to know that Blagonravov is adopting a very bad attitude.

GORLOV: How’s that?

UDIVITELNY: He’s discontented with everything and everybody. Looks like defeatism. He says…

GORLOV: (Interrupting.) Never mind him! You know what these people are like? When the Commander’s doing well, they toady to him, strut about like roosters and lap up decorations. But as soon as anything goes wrong, you can’t see ‘em for dust. They’re scared of the responsibility. I know their petty little souls. It’s always due to the same thing; they’re soft, they’ve never been through the mill. How can you expect them to be tough?

UDIVITELNY: How right you are. Take me, for instance. Although I didn’t work very long in a factory, only three years and two weeks, I just know that I’ve got enough proletarian instinct to last me all my life. But you take some men—they’re cultured, they’ve been to universities, but take a good look at them and you know they’re not the real thing.

GORLOV: Obviously. They’ve got culture on the surface but they’re no good inside.

Enter BLAGONRAVOV, UDIVITELNY goes out.

BLAGONRAVOV Read this. (He hands over a paper.). If there are no corrections, I’ll have it coded at once. They’ve rung up twice from Moscow. They’re asking for details.

GORLOV: (Reading.) Yes. All right. Hmm… Oh, no! (He makes a mark with a pencil.)

BLAGONRAVOV (Looking.) Why not?

GORLOV: What’s the matter with you? Have you taken leave of your senses? Who was in command of our Tank Corps? Balda. A damned fool. That’s why he was beaten. And it must be reported honestly.

BLAGONRAVOV: All the same, I think…

GORLOV: (Interrupting.) I’m not interested in what you think. It’s going to be exactly as I want it. (He reads on.) Oho… here’s another discovery. Why have you promoted Ognev to the position of Alexander of Macedonia all of a sudden and that old creeper Kolos into a Suvorov?

BLAGONRAVOV: It doesn’t say that, but they’ve done their job brilliantly—Kolokol has been taken.

GORLOV: And who are they, I’d like to know? Where do we come in? Whose orders were they acting on?

BLAGONRAVOV: That’s just the point. They acted on a plan of their own which was right in the teeth of your orders. And they had Moscow’s consent.

GORLOV: I’m going to inquire into that. That’s why I’ve sent for them. I’m not going to allow the Command of the front to be overruled. Anyway, there’s no reason why young pups should get their heads turned. Ognev’s an upstart as it is. This’ll completely ruin him. No! (He crosses it all out.) You will kindly do it all over again and bring it to me in an hour’s time.

BLAGONRAVOV: Excuse me, Comrade Commander, but I can’t go on working with you any longer. (Excitedly.) I request to be released. I’ve had to make this decision because…

GORLOV: (Interrupting.) Wait a minute! The ship isn’t sinking yet and it doesn’t intend to. But you’re on the run already like a rat. You’re not going to get away with it, my friend. I’ll have the pants off you first. Then I’ll have your hide. After that I might begin to think about chucking you out.

BLAGONRAVOV: Comrade Commander!

GORLOV: Enough! That’s all! Go and carry out my order.

BLAGONRAVOV: I… I… I can’t.

GORLOV: Don’t you stutter, or I’ll make you go on stuttering for the rest of your life. You know what my temper’s like, I don’t go in for psychology.

BLAGONRAVOV goes out. Enter ADJUTANT.

ADJUTANT: Major-General Ognev and Major-General Kolos are here as you ordered.

GORLOV: Let ‘em sit outside and wait.

ADJUTANT: Very good. He goes out.

GORLOV: (Taking up the telephone receiver.) Get me Khripun… Is that you, Khripun? Listen. Come over to me at once. We’ll have lunch together… More brandy, eh? Bring it along (He replaces the receiver.)

Enter MIRON GORLOV.

MIRON: Good morning, Ivan. Have you been up at Communications all night?

GORLOV: Yes. Are you going?

MIRON: Yes. plane’s ready to take off now. I can’t wait for the weather any longer. I’ll have to take my chance.

GORLOV: It seems to be a bit bitter to-day.

MIRON: I’ll make it somehow, Ivan, I never dreamt we’d have such a sad parting.

GORLOV: Yes, I loved Sergei. (A long pause.)

MIRON: He was so cheerful, so spontaneous. I just can’t bring myself to realize…

GORLOV: It can’t be helped. War is war.

MIRON: I know how you feel, Ivan… I don’t know whether we’ll meet again soon, but perhaps… That’s why I’ve made up my mind… Please forgive me, but I’ve got to tell you some bitter home-truths. I’ve simply got to.

GORLOV: Come on then, out with it.

MIRON: You know, brother, you mustn’t fool yourself or the Soviet State. Let’s face it. You don’t know your job and you’re unable to command the front. It’s not the job for you. Times are different. In the civil war you fought almost without artillery, but the enemy didn’t have so much either. You fought without aircraft, without tanks and without scientific technique. To-day you’ve got to know all that inside out. But you know very little about it. In fact, you don’t know anything about it at all. Turn it in, old boy. Turn it in for your own sake, understand. We’re building machines for the front day and night. The best machines in the world. And what for? So that half of them can be lost because you’re so darned inefficient and out-of-date? What shall I tell the workers when I get back to the factory? What shall I say to the engineers? They haven’t left the shops since the first day of the war. They’re heroes, like the men in the front line! I can’t conceal from them the fact that their precious work and all our fine technical productions are being misused at the front owing to your ignorance. Ivan, try to understand before it’s too late. Otherwise they’ll sack you…

GORLOV: (Interrupting.) Stop! (He presses the button.)

Enter the ADJUTANT.

ADJUTANT: At your service.

GORLOV: This civilian is now going to the aerodrome. See him off to the plane.

ADJUTANT: Very good, Comrade Commander. This way, please

Long pause.

MIRON Don’t bother about me. I know my way all right. You’d better stay with the Commander. I think he’ll soon have to be seen off himself.

He goes out.

ADJUTANT Excuse me, Comrade Commander.

GORLOV: Well?

ADJUTANT: Major-General Ognev asks you to see him immediately or else make a definite appointment. He’s got to go and be bandaged.

GORLOV: What’s he got to have bandaged now? Is it his head again

ADJUTANT: No, it’s his right arm.

GORLOV: All right, let them come in.

ADJUTANT: Very good.

He goes out. Enter OGNEV and KOLOS in full dress uniform.

OGNEV: We’ve come as you ordered. A pause.

GORLOV: So I see. Are both of you cripples?

KOLOS: Only Major-General Ognev. I’m all right.

GORLOV: What have you dressed up like this for? (To KOLOS.) You look as if you’d been twirling your mustaches all night. Perhaps you think we’re going to congratulate you and give a banquet in your honor? If so you’re damned well mistaken, do you under stand ‘

OGNEV: We knew you’d say that, Comrade Commander.

GORLOV: Did you indeed?

KOLOS: That’s right.

GORLOV: Well then, sit down, sit down. Let’s have a nice little heart to-heart talk.

OGNEV and KOLOS sit down.

Who’s going to begin? Come on, Ognev. You’ve had more responsibility so you’ve got more to answer for. Well? (A pause.) Why don’t you say something?

OGNEV: I’m waiting for questions.

GORLOV: The devil you are. Very well, then, why didn’t you carry out my orders?

OGNEV: We acted in accordance with our own plan with Moscow’s permission. You know that. Kolokol Station has been captured and the entire German force smashed. Our plan turned out to be correct.

GORLOV: In that case what am I doing here? Do I command this front or don’t I?

OGNEV is silent.

See here, Ognev. What’s on your mind? What do you want of me

OGNEV: Only one thing—that you should give up the command of the front.

GORLOV (To KOLOS.) Aha, and that’s what you want, too, my old friend?

KOLOS: That’s right.

GORLOV: Now I see your little game.

Enter GAIDAR.

How are you, Gaidar? You’ve come at the right moment.

GAIDAR: How are you, Gorlov? Hullo, Ognev. (He shakes hands with everybody.) I’ve been delayed in Moscow. (To OGNEV and KOLOS.) I’m very glad to find you two here. Congratulations on your brilliant victory.

GORLOV: Better go steady with the congratulations.

GAIDAR: Why?

GORLOV: Do you know what he has just said?

GAIDAR: What?

GORLOV: Repeat it. Let the Member of the Military Council hear you.

A pause.

Got your tail down, have you?

OGNEV: Comrade Member of the Military Council, I declare that there is no proper command on our front.

KOLOS: That’s right.

GORLOV: You heard?

A long pause.

GAIDAR: Yes. I heard. (To OGNEV and KOLOS.) Go and wait outside for a few minutes, will you.

OGNEV: Very good.

They go out.

GORLOV: (Writing.) I’ll show the…

GAIDAR: What are you doing?

GORLOV: Won’t be a minute. You’ll see it when you sign it. (Writing.) I’ll bang some sense into their heads. They won’t forget this as long as they live. Here, sign it.

GAIDAR: (He takes the paper, tears it up without reading it and throws it away.) We’ve had enough of banging sense into people’s heads, Comrade Gorlov. It’s time you took a rest from this hard work. Here’s Moscow’s order for your retirement. Read it. (He hands him the order. GORLOV reads it. A long pause.) You’re a brave man and devoted to our great cause. That’s all very fine and they respect you for it. But it’s not enough to win this war. To do that you’ve got to know how to fight the modern way. You’ve got to know how to be able to learn from each new experience. You’ve got to know how to raise up new, young commanding cadres instead of keeping them under. Unfortunately you haven’t got that capacity. Of course, technical knowledge and the capacity to wage war are things that can be acquired. Today you lack them. Tomorrow you may be able to acquire them provided that you’ve got a strong desire to learn, to learn from experience and to develop yourself. But that’s just what you haven’t got. Are our old army-leaders capable of developing themselves and mastering the technique of modern warfare? Of course they are. They’re just as capable as the young men, perhaps even more so, if only they’re willing to learn from experience and don’t regard this as beneath their dignity. There’s a good old proverb which says: “You can learn as long as you live.” But the whole trouble with you, that is to say with some of you old army-leaders, is that you don’t want to learn. You’re so infected with conceit you think you know all there is to know. That, Comrade Gorlov is your chief failing.

GORLOV: (Stands up. A long pause.) Then I suppose it was you who arranged for my retirement?

GAIDAR: Unfortunately it wasn’t. I’ve worked smoothly with you. I’ve signed and sealed and discussed with you, but I never allowed anything to interfere with the friendly relations between us. In fact, I haven’t been giving a real Party lead. They gave me dressing down that I’ll remember for the rest of my days. And. I thoroughly deserved it.

GORLOV: I’m obliged to you for your frankness. Well, orders are orders. As a soldier, I’m accustomed to obey them. We’ll see how you get on without me. (He puts on his cap and greatcoat.) You’ll regret this, but it’ll be too late then.

GAIDAR: It’s no use trying to frighten us. Bolsheviks aren’t easily frightened. Nobody is indispensable. Lots of people have tried to frighten us, but they’ve been discarded on history’s rubbish heap long ago. The Party remains strong as steel.

A pause.

GORLOV: And may I ask to whom you order me to hand over command?

GAIDAR: You’ll be informed later. We shall send for you.

GORLOV: Very good.

He salutes and goes out by the side door. The telephone rings. GAIDAR picks up the receiver.

GAIDAR: Hullo yes? Krikun? You’re the special correspondent?… Wait a bit. You were the guy who criticized our front-line paper for publishing an article on Communications?. Then get this straight. This is Gaidar, member of the Military Council of the front, speaking. Listen! You get the hell out of here, do you understand? If you’re found hanging around on the territory of our front tomorrow, I’ll make you squeal like a weasel. (He hands down the receiver.)

Enter MAJOR-GENERAL KHRIPUN, carrying a large parcel.

KHRIPUN: So you’re back, Gaidar. Well, how goes it? Has the Commander gone out?

GAIDAR: He’s coming right away. (He presses the button.)

Enter the ADJUTANT.

GAIDAR: Ask Major-General Ognev, Commander of the front, and Major-General Kolos to come in.

KHRIPUN: You mean General Gorlov, don’t you?

GAIDAR: I mean exactly what I said. Carry out the order, please.

ADJUTANT: Very good.

He goes out.

KHRIPUN: What’s the meaning of all this? (The parcel drops out his hands. There is a crash of broken bottles.

 

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