1942.
During the days that followed the press kept up this optimistic Second Front barrage.
The splendours of the Supreme Soviet meeting—the first since the beginning of the war
—contrasted strangely with Moscow's down-at-heel appearance. In the Kremlin,
diplomats (many of whom had specially come from Kuibyshev) and members of the
government were driving up in their limousines. Outside the main entrance of the palace I noticed a car flying a little Japanese flag. In the former Throne Room, completely rebuilt since the Revolution, Lenin stood in his floodlit niche above the rostrum. The Presidium of the Supreme Soviet sat on the left, and the members of the government on the right.
On the platform behind the speaker sat members of the Politburo and other leading
deputies. On the floor of the hall there was room for some 1,200 deputies of the two Houses sitting jointly— the Chamber of the Union and the Chamber of Nationalities. A large number of these had been flown from distant parts of the country, and there were many colourful oriental costumes and dresses in the front half of the floor. Many of the women wore bright scarves and sari-like dresses, and many men wore embroidered
coloured caps, and many of the faces were Mongol, and others almost Indian-like.
Among the members of both Houses were many soldiers in uniform, some wearing war
decorations; but many seats were empty, partly owing to the difficulty of reaching
Moscow at short notice, but chiefly because many deputies were at the front, while others had already been killed.
Then suddenly the whole building shook with applause as the State Defence Council,
with Stalin inconspicuously among them, took their seats on the platform. For several minutes the deputies stood up and cheered, and shouted Stalin's name. Stalin and the others on the platform also rose, and Stalin himself clapped, in acknowledgment of the ovation he was receiving. Finally everybody sat down. Stalin was wearing a well-cut
pale-khaki summer tunic— plain, without any decorations. His hair was much greyer and his build much smaller than I had imagined it to be, I had never seen Stalin before. There was a pleasant casualness in his manner as, in the course of the meeting, he talked
informally to his neighbours, or as he turned round to exchange remarks with people
behind him, or as he stood up with the rest and clapped somewhat lazily when, time after time, his name was being acclaimed by the Assembly.
Molotov was the first to speak, and for a long time he spoke about the principal episodes in the process of the
territorial ambitions anywhere, and said that, in terms of the Treaty, Britain and the Soviet Union would strive to "render impossible any future aggression by Germany, or any other State linked with her in her acts of aggression in Europe". (The Russians were at that time still very careful not to say anything that might conceivably offend Japan.) The Treaty, he said, was for twenty years, and subject to renewal, and he added:
I cannot but associate myself with the words of Mr Eden: "Never in the history of our two countries has our association been so close. Never have our obligations in respect of the future been more perfect." This is unquestionably a happy omen...
The Treaty has met with the most favourable response in both Britain and the
Soviet Union, while in the enemy camp it has caused confusion and angry hissing.
As the speech went on, one became aware of a feeling of impatience in the hall: What about the Second Front? At last Molotov came to that:
Naturally, serious attention was given to the problems of the Second Front, both in London and Washington. The results of these talks can be seen from the identical