Russia at war 1941-1945

forbidden to open artillery fire against the Germans."

"But how is that possible?" I yelled into the receiver. "Our troops are in full retreat.

Whole towns are in flames, people are being killed all over the place... "

"No," said Timoshenko, "there is to be no air reconnaissance more than thirty-five miles beyond the frontier."

I argued that since the Nazis had knocked out practically all our front-line air force, this was impossible anyway, and insisted that we throw in the full weight of our

infantry, artillery and armour, and especially our anti-aircraft guns. But

Timoshenko still said No;—only reconnaissance of not more than thirty-five miles

inside enemy territory. ..

It was not till some time later that Moscow ordered us to put into action the "Red Packet", i.e. the plan for covering the State frontier. But this order came too late...

The Germans had already engaged in full-scale military operations, and had, in

several places, penetrated deep into our territory.

A few hours later, with Timoshenko's permission, Boldin flew to Belostok. His plane was hit by twenty bullets from a Messerschmitt, but nevertheless managed to land on an

airfield twenty miles east of the city. A few minutes later nine German planes appeared over the airfield and dropped their bombs, without any interference; there were no antiaircraft guns on that airfield. Several cars and Boldin's plane were destroyed.

Every minute counted. We had to get to the 10th Army Headquarters. There were

no cars at the airfield, so I took a small truck, and together with some officers and a number of soldiers—twelve people in all—we got into it. I took the seat next to the driver, and told him to drive to Belostok.

"It's dangerous, Comrade General," he said, "twenty minutes before you landed, there was a German paratroop landing; so the commander of the airfield told me."

An unpleasant bit of news, but it couldn't be helped. It was incredibly hot, and the air smelt of burning...

At last we reached the Belostok main road. Through the windscreen I could see

fifteen German bombers approaching from the west. They were flying low, with

provocative insolence, as though our sky belonged to them. On their fuselages I

could clearly see the spiders of the Nazi swastika.

On the way, Boldin stopped a crowd of workers wandering in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"To Volkovysk," they said.

"Who are you?"

"We had been working on fortifications. But the place where we worked is now like a sea of flames," said an elderly man with an exhausted look on his face.

These people seemed to have lost their heads, not knowing where they were going

and why.

Then we met a few cars, led by a Zis-101. The broad leaves of an aspidistra were