Then he talked informally about himself, recalled that he had been born in a village near Moscow in 1896, that, from the age of eleven, he had worked in a fur shop, that, in World War I he had fought first as a private, then as an N.C.O. in the Novgorod Dragoons, and had been awarded two St George's crosses and two St George's medals.
"For personal bravery," Vyshinsky commented.
"For capturing German officers during night reconnaissance," Zhukov explained.
"He was good at night operations even then," Vyshinsky grinned.
Zhukov recalled that he had been a Party member since 1919, and then talked of his
experiences in the Far East where he routed the Japanese in the battle of Halkin Gol in 1939.
"The Germans," he said, "are technically better-equipped than the Japanese, and they are very good soldiers—no use denying it— but, taken as a whole, the German army lacks
the Japs' real fanaticism."
Then Zhukov spoke of what he called his "principal activities" during the war that had just ended:
From the very beginning of the war I was engaged on preparing the defence of
Moscow. For a time, before the Battle of Moscow, there was also Leningrad to take care of, and then there was the Battle of Moscow itself. After that I had to organise the defence of Stalingrad and then the Stalingrad offensive. I was Deputy
Commissar of Defence under Comrade Stalin. Then there was the Ukraine, and
Warsaw— and you know the rest.
"And Kursk, and Belorussia?" somebody asked.
"Yes, I had something to do with those too," Zhukov smiled.
Vyshinsky beamed almost obsequiously: "Moscow, Leningrad, Stalingrad, Kursk,
Warsaw, and so on, right on to Berlin—pretty wonderful!" he said.
Zhukov added a tribute to Comrade Stalin "and his great understanding of military affairs"—but this came almost as an afterthought. There were rivalries amongst the Soviet marshals—none of whom, except himself, he had even mentioned at this press
conference—and, moreover, the Party (and Stalin) were conscious of Zhukov's immense
popularity in the army and in the country. Very understandably, Zhukov had a very high opinion of himself and, with a curious mixture of modesty and almost boyish boastfulness, he tended to take credit for practically
That day at Wendenschloss Vyshinsky, while keeping an eye on him, treated him
outwardly with the greatest obsequiousness and admiration; but one could vaguely feel that Zhukov did not like Vyshinsky (how could he?) and resented his supervision.
[When Harry Hopkins saw Zhukov about the same time, he was also unable to talk to
him without Vyshinsky always being there, and suggesting to him how to answer
questions. (Sherwood, op. cit., p. 904).]
When, some months later, Marshal Zhukov was recalled from Germany and appointed to
the relatively obscure post of Commander of the Odessa Military District, all kinds of explanations were offered for his semi-disgrace. One was that he had proved himself
much too independent of the Soviet Party bosses; another, that he had objected to the excessive dismantling of factories in the Soviet Zone, and that he also treated various Party and Trade Union delegations who had come to Berlin with great casualness,
sometimes even refusing to see them; it was also said that he had let his troops run wild in Germany, and finally, that he was much too friendly and soft in his relations with the Western Allies, particularly with Eisenhower. In reality, there seems little doubt that Zhukov's eclipse was the most striking manifestation of all of Stalin's and the Party's determination to put the Red Army in its place. Zhukov was too popular in the country.
After Stalin's death, Zhukov made a spectacular come-back; and although he saved
Khrushchev in 1957 from what later came to be known as the "anti-Party Group", Khrushchev also decided, before long, that Zhukov was too strong a personality for his taste. The Marshal was accused of looking upon the Army as a distinct political force; he was also accused of immodesty and self-glorification at the expense of the other Russian generals, and of having encouraged in the Army his own "personality cult". He was pensioned off at the end of 1957; his great rival, Marshal Konev wrote a disobliging article on him in
subsequent accounts of the war published in Russia.
Chapter IV THE THREE MONTHS' PEACE