Opening Moves

“What do you mean Major? The Germanski is defeated is he not? Soon we go home!” he slapped Ramsey on the shoulder in a way that was as wholly acceptable to comrades in the Russian tank force as it was unacceptable to British army officers. In particular, British army officers who recently had a rifle bullet dug out from the same area. It hurt like hell and Ramsey could not help but yelp.

Yarishlov looked appalled. “My friend, I am sorry. You hold yourself well. I did not know.”

“It wasn’t much but you know how it is. The small ones hurt like hell Colonel”.

“They all hurt Comrade,” stated Yarishlov with a smile, evenly and with the knowledge and conviction of a man who had experienced the full spectrum of what battlefield wounds had to offer.

“I am sorry. What was it?”

“Sniper in Nordenham, just before the end. Nothing serious Colonel”.

“Then we move on. What did you mean?” The imperative present in the first question had gone but the answer was still expected.

“I mean that relations between the allies and your country seem a little strained at times, and there is some worry that your country may wish to aggravate matters more. After all, look at the issues we are facing with moving to the correct demarcation lines.”

“I know little of the… aggravation,” a moment’s pause to receive a confirmation on pronunciation, “Major Ramsey, but I do believe that some people have done some stupid things on both sides.”

Ramsey could not argue with that so accepted it. “I know there have been difficulty to withdraw some of our forces, particularly in the Austria area. The Germanski was very good for wrecking, as you know. The train lines are not good. My own unit has had equal difficulties.” A dismissive wave of the hand said all that Yarishlov had to say on that point.

“As for the rest, it is just politicians hot wind is it not? None of us front animals want to start the dance again. Forget it Major, the Soviet Union is your friend, truly.”

And to be honest, Ramsey believed that this Russian meant what he said, and believed what he said. However, what he had heard on official briefs, plus his Battalion Commander’s confidential chat about his experience at the Hamburg Symposium, had made him worried that something was coming, and it was not going to be good. Maybe this Colonel just didn’t know, or he was a damn good liar?

“Come Major, I am taking dinner in Schlangen with the generals and I need to practice lying so I can tell the Americans how good they are.” Given Ramsey’s last train of thought that was not the best thing Yarishlov could have said, and he felt a momentary coldness in his stomach.

The Russian looked around and pointed.

“Let us talk to those officers there so I can get my lies practice right.”

It was the grin that did it, splitting the Russians face from ear to ear, and the coldness went as quickly as it had come. They strolled leisurely forward towards a group of American officers.

“I’m afraid I can only lie so much Colonel. I may have to answer a call of nature if it gets too bad.”

“What is call of nature Major?”

“Too much coffee Colonel, a man must walk off alone to get rid of it.”

“Ah, you need piss yes?”

“Well not yet sir, but I may do if the Americans ask too many potentially embarrassing questions.”

“I think I understand that. A good plan. Perhaps I should have some more coffee first?”

Ramsey liked this man although something told him he really should not. One of the American’s moved forward and a Texas-twang cut through his thoughts.

“Ah, Lootenant Colonel Yarslov, I hope you enjoyed the display we put on sir?” The casual salute was only just on the right side of acceptability, whereas Yarishlov’s by return was as impressive as earlier.

“Yes thank you, Major?”

“Parker, Nathaniel T, sir.”

“I learned much. May I introduce Major Ramsey of His Majesty’s Black Watch?”

The two Majors exchanged salutes that confirmed the lack of respect in the salute given to Arkady. Neither did the American honour the VC, although that was never an issue for the holder in this case. Yarishlov noted the immaculate nature of the man’s uniform and the vast array of medal ribbons on his chest.

“It’s a shame we had to curtail the day sir. We had a real peach of a run organised for number three.” If he could have puffed himself up any more, then the American would have exploded in a second. “Designed it myself sir. Armoured wedge attack over open ground with artillery rolling only one hundred yards in front of the van. Would have been a real show for y’all.”

“Another time Major, another time.”

Words that were meaningless, for Yarishlov had already promised himself never to attend another of these nonsense’s if he could possibly avoid it.

“Your General enjoyed the two we ran though. Very complimentary sir, very complimentary.”

“Then you should be pleased, for the General is a man of great experience and knows what he is talking about.” The General did indeed know his trade, which was why Yarishlov knew the General must have practiced his lying too.”