Maria, Pull the Trigger and Kill (a World War II adventure)

General Gorbatow

A little later, General Polkovnik Alexander Wassiljewitsch Gorbatow entered the audience chamber. Gorbatow, was wearing a clean but worn field uniform and a Tukarew TT-33 pistol on his side. The General greeted me and I handed the crate of Jack Daniels over. He smiled from ear to ear and inspected the crate. The General and the Sergeant were entering into a deep discussion over the crate until Fedorov let me know, that this was a very nice present and was very much appreciated. OK, so General Clay did have a great instinct in regards to the taste of General Gorbatow. Next, the General gestured the servant to remove the English tea and commanded: "Vooodkaaa." Previously, I had expected the emperor himself to come in, but this destroyed the illusion. Two minutes later, the servant placed a bottle of Vodka and three small glasses on the table. He filled the glasses and Gorbatow raised his glass for a toast: "K materii rossii", and he emptied his glass. Fedorov was following suit. I tried and it burnt my throat. I had to choke and cough and it took me three sips to get the Vodka down. Gorbatow gestured the servant and the glasses were filled again. I was absolutely not looking forward to this. "K Josef Wissarionowitsch Stalin", and two seconds later his glass was empty. Fedorov did not stay back, but I had a real hard time emptying that little portion of liquid. The servant filled the glasses again. "K miru", and down with it. In order to make this work, I had to come up with a different strategy. Maybe the trick really was to pour it down the gob in one go. After all, the Russians must have been doing it that way for a reason. They had centuries of experience with Vodka. So I tried and it felt like I could spit fire like a dragon, except there was no fire coming out of my mouth. The glasses were getting filled again and I feared for the worst. This time however, the General was not raising his glass for a toast, but said a couple of longer sentences. Fedorov translated and it was in essence what he had told me yesterday already. I explained, that General Clay was supporting the plan, but obviously, we had to find out, what was needed to execute it. We had to fill in more details. Surprisingly, that strong Vodka did not have an effect on me. Gorbatow must have been pleased with what I said, because he raised his glass again and emptied it. Fedorov followed and I by means of military duty was forced to do the same and with the uttermost disgust, I emptied my glass slowly. The servant now brought bigger, normal size glasses and I knew, this would kill me for sure. It would burn all of my intestines. Very much to my surprise, he did not fill these glasses with Vodka but with water. What a relief. I did have three glasses in a row. Really astonishing was that the Vodka did not make one drunk. Gorbatow explained that his predecessor had been General Bersarin, who was killed in a road accident just last month. Ah, I was not really surprised. Apparently, his predecessor General Bersarin had setup field kitchens, to provide food to the people of Berlin, but it was not enough, by far. What was important was to get the food supply going again. For that, they needed a good plan and they needed the help of the Americans, the British and the French. I did feel a bit strange now. Fedorov, asked me, if we, the Americans, could work out a plan, because we are always good in working out plans? Suddenly, I felt bad, something was wrong with me and I needed more water. The picture of the little girl from today's morning was still vivid in my head. Well, I did have full authority, so I agreed on working out a plan. Now my head was spinning and my vision blurry. Suddenly, I looked at the General and the Sergeant from above. That Russian Vodka made one levitate. Certainly, this was very amazing. I had no idea, that Vodka would make one levitate. This was a major breakthrough in science and it might get me the Nobel price. But wait a minute, my body was down there as well. I was not levitating, I must have died, which most certainly was far away from amazing. I did not wanted to be dead and thus needed to get back into my body again. This situation scared the shit out of me. Then, a second later I was back in my body and my head was spinning and my vision was blurry again. Maybe the levitation was not so bad after all? As much as I wanted to levitate again, be rid of the spinning in my head and the bad feeling in my stomach, it did not work. Bummer. I definitely needed more water. Or did I need more Vodka? Well, calling for the devil, the General raised his small glass again: "Zda rovye!" I emptied the glass in one go again and put it on the table. Ha, one just needed enough Vodka to empty the glass in one go. Cool, I had discovered the trick. Two seconds later I found myself on all fours on the floor. How embarrassing. With all my will power I tried to get up onto my feet, but collapsed again. The Sergeant and the General were discussing things in Russian and they laughed. I was sure, they laughed about me. How embarrassing and humiliating. Then, Fedorov raised a glass of Vodka again and said: "Nastrovia dawarisch General!"I was in no position to drink another class of Vodka, instead I struggled to stay on all fours. Fedorov helped me up from the ground and made me walk outside. With his limping foot, we were both going left and right and a couple of times we were at the brink of sprawling out flat on the ground. Outside of the villa, I puked into the immaculate flower bed and from that point on I lost my memory. - - - I was in my bed and the warm July sun came in through the window and warmed my body. I felt great, but I had a headache. My side felt a bit crumbled and I wanted to turn onto my back, when I realized, that there was somebody sleeping behind me. I turned and there was Fedorov sleeping right next to me. Pinche, by Snow white and the ugly seven dwarfs, what had happened? My brain started to put 2 and 2 together. No, no, no, this was the cliché of what happens to drunk women. They end up in bed with a stranger. In this case not even their own bed and not even their own room. My uniform was there unceremoniously tossed on the ground, but at least, I was still wearing my bra and my panties. Fedorov was still in his uniform, so thanks God, it probably had not been that bad. Oh dear, I did not even know the first name of Sergeant Fedorov. How embarrassing is that? I slept in the same bed with someone I did not even know his first name. I really hoped nothing did happen. How should I explain this to my mother? Luckily, her finding out about this was highly unlikely. Well unless --- I did get pregnant. I felt my private parts and my panties were dry --- which was a big relief. My A-11 wristwatch showed 7:56 am, 0756 alpha, --- about time to get to work. I climbed over Sergeant Fedorov (it was so embarrassing, that I did not know his first name), careful not to wake him up and then I put my uniform on. The Uniform was somehow wrinkled and by pulling at the fabric, I tried to make it better. At that time, I realized, that Fedorov was looking at me with just one eye open. He said: "You are so beautiful." That was very flattering and embarrassing at the same time. I did not remember, when I received the last compliment though: "Thank you", I answered with a big smile. We looked at each other and suddenly he asked: "What time is it?"I looked at my A-11 again and answered: "8:06 am." "Gav-no, YA propustil sostav", he almost yelled. Within a second he was up and ten seconds later he was in his boots then running for the door. I had to get going as well and I followed. He grabbed my hand and pulled me downstairs. There were quite a number of Red Army soldiers outside already and they were all looking funny at us. What did they know? It was embarrassing and I'm sure, I turned fire red. At my car, I thought about what to do? Should I give him a kiss on the cheek? Nay, I did not really know him. Then another thought crossed my mind: And what type of a woman was I not to give a man whom I spent the night with a kiss on the cheek. At least that. While I was still pondering about it, Fedorov took my hand and put a kiss on it. That was so sweet, I was entirely overwhelmed and frozen in time. In a whim, I grabbed his hand and gave him a short kiss on the mouth. That moment, I got aware again, that we were not alone. In fact at least 10 pairs of Russian eyes were on us. It was embarrassing and I quickly unlocked the door of the BMW, set inside, started it and pushed the accelerator down. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him waving goodbye. On my way, I thought about what happened. Maria, what did you get yourself into, I pestered myself? You spent a night with a communist, worse, a Red Army non-commissioned officer. They might dishonorably discharge me, when they would find out. Pinche, I could just hope the US Army would never get wind of it. After a few minutes, I realized that I was going pretty fast and that I should rather slow down. Then I did not put my helmet on either and so I stopped to do so. In the rear view mirror, I saw my disheveled hair. With my emergency toiletry from the glove compartment, I brought the mess of my hair in order, brushed my teeth and put lipstick on. Now, I was presentable again and could go to the office. And what would I be doing there, after all? I had no idea? Craft a plan on how to feed Berlin? I did not have the faintest clue, what that plan should consist off. I needed to talk to people. Food store owners, farmers --- and right there I had an epiphany --- the mayor. I opened the Berlin map on the hood again and quickly found out, that I was not far away from the mayor's office. That said, if it still existed.