Russia at war 1941-1945

there were still advertisements of lotto clubs and cabarets, and shop-signs with Bodega written on them (the Bodegas were now closed) and remnants of a proclamation printed in Rumanian, German and Russian (but not Ukrainian): "We Ion Antonescu, Marshal of Rumania, Professor L. Alexeanu, Civil Governor of Transniestria", etc., etc. A large building had a notice up: "Guvernamantul Trans-nistriei", and the bus signs—not that there were any buses now— said that the first bus from the Aeroport to La Gara (Station) left at 7.15 a.m. The musical programmes referred to the "Teatrul de Opera & Balet, Odesa" —which, incidentally, showed that it was not true that the city had been re-named Antonescu, and had merely lost one s. There had been many other entertainments in Odessa, even the Symphony Orchestra of the Luftwaffe had given a concert— though

this was on March 27, during the German régime—and they played Schubert's

Unfinished, and Beethoven's Violin Concerto, and Tschaikovsky's Fifth. There were also several dressmakers' ateliers, and many other small shops, whose proprietors had now vanished. Free Trade—of sorts—seemed to have been in full swing in Odessa while the

Rumanians were there. The Rumanians were speculators, and half the people of Odessa, and more perhaps, were speculators, too. Was not speculation and trade in the Odessite's blood? Rumanian generals used to bring whole trunkloads of ladies' underwear and

stockings from Bucharest, and get their orderlies to sell them in the market. Even now there were quite a few things to buy in the market—German pencils, Hungarian

cigarettes, German cigarettes (called "Krim", and made in the Crimea), and even bottles of scent—and some stockings, though these were becoming scarce now, and could only

be bought under the counter. Now the militia was keeping an eye on all this trading, and the Odessites in the market looked somewhat subdued. The noisiest person was a blind man, accompanied by an old woman who rattled her moneybox in people's faces; and the blind man was singing in a whining penetrating voice:

Znayut vse moyu kvartiru,

Tam zhivu sredi mogil,

Rvalis tam snaryady zlyie,

Zhizn svoyu tam polozhil.

("Everybody knows my dwelling;

There I live among the graves,

Where the wicked shells were bursting,

There I lost my youthful life.")

They were selling jam at twenty roubles a pot and bread at ten roubles a kilo (which was very cheap); there was plenty of milk, and they were also selling German bottles of

apple-juice. The silk stocking under the counter were now fetching 300 roubles.

[Nominally £6, but the value of Russian currency (except for rationed goods) had

depreciated so much during the war that the figure is meaningless.]

And the saleswomen were still talking of marks when they meant roubles. The wrapping paper used was German newspapers.

Later, all these "New Order" luxuries were to disappear, and prices went up.

Although the port with its docks and grain elevators was a heap of smouldering ruins, the famous marine promenade overlooking the port and the sea was crowded as usual with

young people. Many of them were sitting on benches or on the steps of the Great

Staircase (of Eisenstein's Potemkin tame). I remember, in particular, two youngsters—

one fair, the other with the beginnings of a black moustache, who were commenting, in their Odessa jargon, on the terrible destruction the Germans had caused to the port and other parts of the city—particularly to the factories at Moldovanka and Peresyp. They also recalled how, during the last fortnight of the German occupation, they and their friends had hidden in cellars and in the catacombs—for it was no good going out into the street, not even before the 3 p.m. curfew, because the Germans might nab you, and deport you to Germany, or simply kill you. They used elaborately abusive language about the Germans, and said the Rumanians were exceedingly fed-up when the Germans took

everything over in February. "I wonder," black moustache said, "what the Reds are going to do about sea bathing." (In Odessa, too, many talked about "The Reds"). During the previous summer, he said, the Rumanians had allowed only one beach to be used, and on hot days as many as 20,000 people would queue up. Now that the damned Germans had