20. UNDER ST. ANDREWS FLAG

AFTER the eastern front had been broken through at the Vistula, while the Red Army was besieging Budapest and all Germany was trembling under the daily raids of Anglo-American aircraft, an event occurred which had an important effect on the lives of the many millions of Russians in Germany.

The Russian language papers announced, and it was confirmed by the German Press, that a congress of anti-Bolshevik Russians had met in Prague, which had elected a Committee for the Liberation of the Peoples of Russia, headed by General Vlasov. This committee had published a manifesto with a short political programme. The High Command of the Wehrmacht had agreed to the formation of Russian divisions under Russian command from the volunteers in the German Army. The chairman of the committee, General Vlasov, was appointed commander of the unified Russian troops. The Russian Army of Liberation had been promised its own uniform, distinct from the German, and was to have its own flag, of St. Andrew:* the diagonal blue St. Andrew’s cross on a white field.

The strangest thing about all this was that this event, which had taken place on the eve of the total defeat of the Reich, called forth the greatest enthusiasm among the Russian population of Germany. This population was large: about 5,000,000 Ostarbeiter; at least 2,000,000 prisoners of war – all who had survived in the camps of the 5,000,000 prisoners taken since the beginning of the war; and at least 1,000,000 like me who had left Russia of their own free will to escape the advancing Red Army and Comrade Stalin’s N.K.V.D. This is a total of at least 8,000,000 at a conservative estimate.

Of course by no means all of these were declaredly anti-Bolshevik. Most of them were passive, realizing the inevitability of Soviet victory in the war. Many of them were trying to get home and hated the Germans and everything connected with them. In the Ostarbeiter and prisoner-of-war camps pro-Soviet elements were spreading intensive propaganda, scaring the others with quick retaliation or promising amnesty and developing fantasies about the ‘evolution of the Soviet regime’, thereby carving themselves out future careers.

But there were many Russians who were being pushed into a trap with no way out. These could look forward only to very doubtful patronage by the Soviet Union’s Western allies after the defeat of Germany. It was among them that the formation of the Committee for the Liberation of the Peoples of Russia called forth indefinite but lively hopes. It seemed to them that the formation of a strong organization supported by its own national army could put the Russian anti-Bolshevik cause in Germany on its feet and increase their own chances of salvation.

In addition, many of them thought that even in this unfortunate moment the appearance on the eastern front of General Vlasov’s Russian divisions would bring results, that the Red Army would begin to fall apart and would stop fighting against a Germany which was no longer dangerous to Russia, and the whole war might end differently.

Every evening now our apartment was crowded with people talking over the news. We tried to persuade General Kramer to join Vlasov and create a political mission from the committee in Vienna. The general waved his hands and said he would be happy to serve the people but that in all honour he could not offer his services to Vlasov, he must wait until he was invited to join, and so forth.

Apparently events in Prague and Berlin were moving slowly, because after the first reports there was a lengthy silence. The papers said nothing more.

Desiring to become more closely acquainted with what was going on, I asked Count Reder, the head of the office where I was supposedly employed as a journalist, to issue me a paper which would enable me to go to Berlin. At the beginning of winter I set out for the capital of the Reich.

The trip was an uncomfortable one. All the windowpanes of the train were broken, and the wind and snow blew in on those who were unlucky enough to be seated by windows which had not yet been boarded up. The walls of the cars were shot through in places, the result of strafing by Allied fighter planes. Naturally the train was not heated.

During the day when air raids started the train would either stop in an open field or try to get through the next station without stopping. From Prague on, the stations were jammed with people – refugees from eastern Germany running from the Red Army. The picture was the same as in the Ukraine when the great German retreat started, except perhaps that there was more order and the refugees were better cared for by the local authorities.

We reached Berlin at night. I managed to locate a small hotel near the Anhalt station. I had a map of Berlin but I found I had to orient myself. The city was already largely destroyed and many streets were only ruins. But still life went on. The transit system, S-Bahn and U-Bahn, ran quickly and efficiently even during air raids, except in the section of the city actually under bombardment. The streets were crowded. One heard many foreign languages – French, Polish, Italian, Russian.

At noon on my first day in Berlin I found my way to Dahlem, the residential suburb where Vlasov’s staff was quartered in several small houses. I had no definite plan. I wanted to see what kind of people were running the movement, what shape it was in, and what prospects it had for the future.

The first house I entered was the office of the organizational section of the committee, which was headed by Major General Malyshkin. People passed from room to room, consulted together, wrote things. There were a few uniforms but the majority were civilians. I sat down and watched. I felt a distinct pleasure in being in the atmosphere of a Russian office after such a long time.

A spectacled man stopped on his way to another room and said, ‘Are you waiting for someone?’ I got up.

‘No one in particular. I’ve just come from Vienna.’

‘From Vienna? Very good. Has a mission from the committee been organized there yet?’

‘Not yet, but it may be soon.’

‘Are you going to take part in it?’

‘That I don’t know yet. I came here to look around and decide.’ ‘Do you want to talk to someone?

‘With pleasure, but I don’t know with whom.’

‘If you can wait, the general will receive you in an hour.’

An hour later I was sitting in a chair in the general’s office. He had a simple, typically Russian face with intelligent, light grey eyes, and was wearing a German general’s uniform without the swastika.

‘I’ve been told that you’ve come from Vienna. Tell me something about yourself,’ said the general.

I told him as concisely as possible who I was, how I came to be abroad, and what I was doing.

‘You probably want to ask me about something. Please feel free to do so,’ he said.

‘Could you clarify the objectives of the committee for me?’

‘Certainly. The committee was created for the unification of antiBolshevik Russian forces in Germany. You’ve read the manifesto. Our practical problems are as follows: To create a united Russian political centre; to give all possible material and legal aid to Ostarbeiter and prisoners of war in camps; to create a Russian army of liberation; to propagandize our ideas abroad and in Russia.’

I interrupted him.

‘With your permission I should like to find out what the relationship of the committee is with the existing national centres: the Byelorussian, Ukrainian, and others.’

‘That’s a hard question. We have invited them to unite with us. But some of those people are very nationalistic and anti-Russian. They are encouraged by Rosenberg’s East Ministry and at present there is no chance of full union. We are creating parallel national sections within the committee and I am sure that most of the people who at present cling to rival organizations will come over to us.’

‘As I understand it, Rosenberg is against Vlasov and the committee. Who supports you in the German Government?’

‘Himmler, and to a certain extent, Goebbels.’

‘What does Hitler think of it?’

‘If anything, he’s probably opposed to it. He hasn’t said anything about Vlasov and he won’t. But Himmler and Goebbels have a lot of independent power at the present time and their support will be decisive. Hitler won’t interfere.’

‘What is the army’s attitude?’

‘The army has been resisting the movement and continues to do so. Keitel does not want to surrender the Russian military units now under his command to Vlasov. But he’ll have to obey Himmler’s order.’

‘What can be done to make things easier for our prisoners of war and workers?’

‘We’ve been promised that the Ostarbeiter are going to have equal rights and rations with other foreigners. Himmler has issued a categorical order forbidding Russians being punished or beaten. The OST insignia that they all had to wear earlier have been abolished.’

‘How have these orders been carried out in practice?’

‘Not too well. Nobody has any real check on what the local German authorities do in their area. But if the committee develops branches in various places, this will be easier.’

‘What about the formation of the army?’

‘As I have already said, the German High Command is obstructing us in every way. But the work goes on. The first division of the R.O.A. is now being formed. Recruiting in prisoner-of-war camps is continuing.’

‘Successfully?’

‘Not too successfully. You see, I am being completely frank with you. You understand that the moment is not a propitious one and the position on the front is bad. However, people are still coming to us, people who are strongly anti-Bolshevik.’

‘You spoke of spreading propaganda in Russia. How are you going to do that?’

‘The situation is good as far as that’s concerned. More than any of our other objectives that coincides with German plans. Millions of leaflets are being printed and dropped behind the Red Army’s lines. We also have the radio at our disposal and we publish three newspapers.’

‘Do you believe in the final success of this whole enterprise?’ I asked. The general thought for a moment and then said:

‘It’s hard to say. But there’s no way out of our position. One way or another, Germany has lost the war. There’s an agreement between Stalin and his allies to return to Russia all Russians who left there after 1939. If we are scattered and disunited they’ll catch us all, send us home, and destroy us. If we can create an army, even five divisions, say, and gather all non-military anti-Bolshevik Russians under its protection, our situation can change radically. We’ll have some bargaining power with the Allies. Finally, if all our plans are realized and the R.O.A. is strong and is sent to the eastern front, who knows? Maybe the situation will change there, too.’

‘Why haven’t the Germans allowed Russian units on the eastern front so far?’

‘In the first place they are afraid that there will be desertions to the other side. There’s no basis at all for that fear. Secondly, they are afraid of the opposite, that there will be desertions from the Red Army to us, and the R.O.A. will become too strong and the anti-German temper in its ranks will, grow, thereby playing into the hands of the enemy. And then the German leaders have not been able to agree among themselves on the problem of the committee.’

‘Do you think that any agreement can be made with the Western Allies before the end of the war?’

‘I’m sorry, but I cannot answer that question. Everything that has to do with that is a secret. You can be certain, however, that everything possible will be done to save the Russians here.’

‘Thank you. Now everything is more or less clear in my mind.’

‘Well, what have you decided? Will you take part in organizing a branch of the committee in Vienna?’

‘With what function?’

‘Purely political. Propaganda, aid to Ostarbeiter and prisoners of war, information, liaison with the committee.’

‘I can’t tell you definitely about myself yet. But I’ll try to help you in general. Who is being considered to head the branch in Vienna?’ ‘Nobody as yet. Can you recommend anyone?’

‘There is a General Kramer there. He was a general in the White Army and lived in Belgrade before the war. He’s not bad, but he has a large entourage.’

‘Well, every White general has an entourage like that. We have to accept that. In any case, we’ll look into it. Meanwhile, give the matter some thought. A representative of the committee will go to Vienna soon to prepare the ground in high German circles. Leave your address in the office. I’d like you to talk to some of the people there. Try to collect more people from the Soviet Union and fewer from among the Whites . . .’

I took leave of him.

I stayed in Berlin another three days, wandering from one little house in Dahlem to another. My general impression was favourable. Most of the people were young, sincere, and firm anti-Bolsheviks. It was obvious that they were going about their jobs with great intensity, in spite of opposition from the Germans.

I observed all this, thinking: it’s late, too late. If all this had started even a year ago, the chances for success would have been much greater.

I saw Vlasov too, while I was cooling my heels in the office of his assistant, Lieutenant-General Zhilenkov. An enormous man, in a general’s overcoat with no insignia of rank, a Russian tricolour badge in his cap, and wearing glasses, he immediately filled the small reception room with his person. I noticed expressions of great respect, mixed with great admiration, on the faces of everyone present.

Stopping for a moment at a desk, he asked in a ringing bass voice,

‘Well, how are things, gentlemen? Are the Germans surrendering?’

‘It’s bad, Andrei Andreevich, they’re still holding out,’ said General Zhilenkov’s adjutant.

‘Nichevo, that’s all right. We’ll break their sides in for them. Fight hard. What we’re doing is right. If we can only fix the Germans, we’ll have no trouble taking care of the Bolsheviks!’

He disappeared into the office, talking as he went.

At that time and later I met various people from Vlasov’s movement. Many of them were intelligent, personable, serious minded, and well acquainted with conditions; in some of them I sensed a fanatical desire to take part in the fight against the Bolsheviks.

Vlasov himself was probably not distinguished by a particularly sharp or deep mind. He often said the wrong thing or more than was necessary. But he possessed something which the others did not: great personal charm and an inner power which set him off from the people surrounding him and made him the perfectly logical choice for the leadership of the whole movement. It was said that his influence on the mass of the soldiers was almost unlimited and that whenever he spoke invisible threads of mutual understanding stretched between him and every member of his audience. One could feel that he was a man of the people who had not lost his spiritual connection with the people. He fully shared the life of his comrades in arms.

I think that Vlasov’s anti-Bolshevism was an organic feeling rather than a theoretically thought-out political position. He had many of the characteristics of a Soviet leader, of the career military commander that he had been all of his adult life. His attitude toward White emigrants was always somewhat suspicious; he could not stand monarchists, but from political considerations he controlled himself and they often left him enchanted by his courtesy and kindness.

That is what happened to General Kramer. Upon my return to Vienna I convinced him that he should go to Berlin to talk to Vlasov about organizing a branch of the committee in Vienna. He went, together with his old friend General T., a famous hero of the White movement, and returned a week later fully convinced of everything the committee stood for. He had received full authorization for organizaiontal activities in the territory of former Austria.

On the way back from Berlin I witnessed a terrible event: the bombing of Dresden. The air-raid warning caught us in an open field. The train stopped about 12 miles from Dresden. There was nowhere to run and hide, so most of the passengers, myself included, left the train and took cover in a small clump of trees.

The sky was clear and everything was plainly visible. The mass of planes closed in on the city from several directions and unloaded their bombs. The ground trembled and there were blasts in the air from the distant explosions. Probably a great many incendiary bombs were dropped, because we could see columns of smoke and flame appear over the city in several places. The raid did not last long but it was horribly effective.

When the planes had gone we returned to the train, thinking that everything was calm now, although we were afraid that the railroad had been cut and we would not be able to proceed beyond Dresden.

The train did not start. No all-clear siren had been heard. The horizon was covered with smoke. Suddenly we heard again the awful roar of hundreds of planes overhead, flying at a great height. We raced back to the woods, and just in time. Two bombs fell, one hitting the tail end of our train and smashing several cars.

Dresden was again the target. The bombing of the burning city went on for another half hour. I think that this time the bombs were bigger.

At last everything was quiet. The bombers had gone for good.

There was a lot of activity at the end of the train. People were dragging the killed and wounded out of the wrecked coaches. The bodies were left in the field; two of the cars which had not been hit were cleared for the wounded. The unhurt passengers crowded into the remaining cars with some difficulty and the train started.

A few miles from Dresden it stopped again. The tracks ahead had been ripped up by bombs. Since I had no baggage, I started to walk toward the city. The closer I got the more horrified I was at the results of the raid. Apparently everything had been bombed, without distinction. There never were any large plants or much production of war matériel in Dresden, and this, the first raid of the war on the city, I thought, might just as well be the last. Everything that had not been flattened was burning.

Even Germans who had seen a good deal of the war felt lost. An old captain, walking beside me, was saying to someone, ‘This was a terrible raid! There were several hundred thousand refugees from eastern Germany in Dresden; they were living in the streets and squares because the houses were so crowded. The damned Americans, look at the way they make war! What do they want? To have nothing left of Germany? Do they want the Red flag to fly over the ruins of our Fatherland? They’ll win the war, but they don’t know yet how much they will have lost!’

I had to walk all the way around the city; railroad traffic was resumed only at the second station beyond Dresden. I must have tramped about 10 miles and felt completely worn out.

A few days later a committee member, Yurii Zherebkov, arrived from Berlin: He was the head of Vlasov’s section for foreign relations. I had heard a lot about him while I was in Berlin. He was from the old emigration but was still young and had recently come from France, where before the war he had been a dancer in a night club or something of the sort. After the occupation he had developed some shady relationship with the German authorities, and to everyone’s surprise, he was suddenly appointed the head of the Russian emigration in France, in his own way a small Führer, as Kramer had been in Serbia. After the Allied invasion of Normandy he fled to Germany, and by Himmler’s personal orders was included in the committee when it was formed in Prague. Everyone regarded him with suspicion. It was generally said that Vlasov had often tried to get rid of him, suspecting him correctly of being a German agent, but so far this had proved impossible. The Germans were very suspicious of Vlasov and limited his activities whenever possible. They had reason to believe he had definite antiGerman leanings.

However, when Zherebkov came in to see us late one evening and I had talked with him for a while, he did not make a bad impression on me. There was no doubt that he was intelligent. He spoke French and German perfectly, was well bred and reserved. There was also no doubt that his connections with the Germans were excellent, because on the very next day he was received in personal audience by the Reichsleiter of Vienna, Baldur von Schirach.

I did not consider that good relations with the Germans were necessarily against him. Obviously, without the Germans Vlasov’s whole enterprise was doomed to failure, even in the scope in which it was conceived. However, it was a repellent thought that in a Russian national movement there was a Russian who was hand in glove with potential enemies of that movement.

Zherebkov left a couple of days later, having received permission from the local authorities for the formation of an affiliate of the committee in Vienna.

Kramer, in his new role as the committee’s chief plenipotentiary, asked me to take part in the work in whatever capacity attracted me most. I had nothing to lose, and at that time it seemed that some results might perhaps be achieved. Therefore I assumed the functions of a general organizer: the recruiting of personnel and assignment of duties to them, as well as the organization of aid for Russian workers and prisoners of war in German camps.

There was a lot to think about. By the end of my first month’s work in the movement I was convinced nothing could be expected from the Germans but promises and perhaps good intentions. Very few of them actually had our interests at heart or tried to help us in our work by their own desire.

One of these few was a certain Klug, an inspector in the Vienna propaganda department. Klug turned out to be a good fellow, and whenever I needed German support I always went to him and always found him willing to help. If some camp commandant had to be punished for cruelty to the workers, or some camp kitchen had to be investigated for theft of food, or a maid had to be rescued from her sadistic German mistress, I invariably asked Klug for assistance and he always did what he could. I think he believed in the success of the Vlasov committee more than I did, and like us he butted his head against the hard wall of German routine, trying to achieve a change of attitude toward the ‘people from the east’.

Sometimes, however, even he despaired, and then he would say, ‘Our Führer, of course, is a great man, but he is surrounded by fanatics and idiots. If he doesn’t get rid of them we shall lose the war!’

‘I’m afraid that you’ve lost it no matter what happens,’ I would say.

‘Oh, no. You’re not acquainted with the facts. A terrible new weapon has been invented which can change the whole course of the war. It will be used any day now; soon, you’ll see.’

‘It’s too late. Soon your enemies will be fighting on German soil and then your new secret weapon will destroy Germans along with Allied troops.’

Klug would breathe heavily and shake his head.

But he did not give up, and worked a great deal, sometimes spending all night at the office. In particular, his efforts made it possible for General Kramer to move from a small hotel room to the building of the old Soviet Embassy to Austria. These new offices greatly enhanced our prestige in the eyes of the German authorities. The place was full from morning till night. More and more people who needed protection from the Germans and material and legal aid came to us. The staff spent days and days visiting camps, trying with all their strength to make life easier for the prisoners of war and the Ostarbeiter.

Yet I was becoming increasingly disappointed in my job. I spent more and more evenings at home instead of in various camps. I felt that with the situation at the fronts so increasingly unfavourable to the Germans, more and more people were turning away from us. No mass support was being created for the movement, and it was becoming less and less certain that it was necessary. What was there for the masses to support? What did the Vlasov committee want from people? Volunteers for the R.O.A.? But it was quite plain that to enter the R.O.A. on the eve of the death of the Third Reich was madness. We had information that Vlasov had had a great deal of trouble pulling R.O.A. units out of the army to organize the R.O.A.’s single division, and had only recently started on the second one. The German High Command was obstinate in its refusal to release Russian soldiers from the front.

Under such conditions, why were contacts needed among the mass of the Russian workers and soldiers in the camps? We could not help them substantially; there was no doubt about that. We could do very little to make their lives easier at the moment, but we could compromise them badly in case of a Soviet occupation.

I decided to go to Karlsbad where Vlasov and the committee had moved from Berlin, to talk to the people there and present to them my proposals for future policies of the committee. These proposals were based on the assumption of Germany’s defeat in the very near future. I advised the union of the R.O.A. with the Cossack regiments in northern Italy, the occupation of a small amount of territory on the Austro-Italian frontier, and the evacuation there of all who wanted to flee from the Red Army and the revenge of the advancing ‘liberators’. Through friends I had connections with the Cossack staff in Italy, and I knew that it would support this plan. In addition, conversations were being held with commanders of various German units who expressed a willingness to come under Vlasov’s command and share his fate.

Of course, even should my plan be realized it did not mean that all of us would be saved. However, it seemed to me that it created conditions which would make it possible for us to bargain with the Allies independently of the Germans.

I also suggested that, in case it was impossible to implement this plan, R.O.A. units should be demobilized immediately, secret arms and ammunition supply points created, and the officers and soldiers should be converted to civilian status to allow them to scatter through Germany and await a better time, retaining the wherewithal to fight again.

In general it was obvious to me that now, in February, 1945, we could count only on our own powers and had to be ready for the cry to arise at any moment, ‘Save yourself as best you can!’ Of course, while the Germans were still willing to give us things and make concessions, it was imperative to get the maximum benefits out of them. But we had to be ready to grab what we could for ourselves in the approaching chaos.

Armed with all the necessary documents, signed by Kramer, I set out for Karlsbad. This journey was much more complicated than my previous one to Berlin. American planes hovered almost constantly over central Germany during the day. In Passau, Regensburg, and Eger my train was caught in air raids and I had to scurry to station bunkers.

This made the sight of Karlsbad, when I finally emerged from the train there, a great contrast to what I had seen during the trip. A peaceful, very colourful town, it was situated in a narrow valley, with a river flowing through the middle of the town. There were no signs of bombing and there was not a single anti-aircraft battery on the surrounding heights. The place contained no military headquarters or industry. It was full of wounded, and numerous hospitals, converted from prewar hotels, with big red crosses on their roofs, served as shields and protected Karlsbad from raids.

I had business with General Zhilenkov, head of the propaganda section and, as it was said, Vlasov’s right-hand man. Another big department under the committee was the civilian section, also directed by a former Soviet general by the name of Zarudny. A third ex-Soviet general was Malyshkin, whom I had met in Berlin, and a fourth was Trukhin, Vlasov’s chief of staff. The two latter were the most admirable personalities in the management of the committee. Both were intelligent and undoubtedly sincere in their anti-Bolshevik ideas, and in spite of the confused situation prevailing at the time they both retained their clarity of mind and purity of purpose.

I visited General Malyshkin in his room.

‘For God’s sake tell me frankly, Vassily Feodorovich,’ I asked him, ‘what you are still hoping for? For help from the British and Americans?’

He shook his head.

‘Personally, I have no hopes at all,’ he said in a dull voice. ‘There were supposed to be conversations with them in Switzerland. Zherebkov was supposed to attend to that, but I’m sure he never got beyond Himmler’s office. But even if the Allies should make us promises of some kind, there would be no use hoping that they would keep them. Stalin has them where he wants them.’

‘Well, what then?’ I probed. ‘What can be done? Couldn’t we organize a local defence? Couldn’t we collect the troops we do have, pull away from the Germans, and capitulate independently?’

‘Nonsense. What could two or three divisions do? If we resist, they’ll bomb us until there’s nothing left. If we surrender, they’ll hand us over to Stalin.’

‘How about getting to Spain or Switzerland?’

‘It’s too late for Spain now. That should have been done at the end of last summer. If we do it now we’ll lose three-quarters of our personnel. And it would be impossible to take the civilians along on such an expedition. Switzerland is out: they would hand us over.’

‘If that’s the case there’s only one thing left for us: everyone for himself. If we can’t help the people we have no right to keep them in the R.O.A. We’ve got to give them the chance to save themselves individually. Give them money, clothing, documents, and disband them. An R.O.A. uniform will mean the firing squad for certain if they fall into the hands of the N.K.V.D.’

Malyshkin waved his hand.

‘I know all that; I’ve known for a long time. Maybe disbanding our men would be the correct decision. But it’s too late now. The machine has been wound up and it’s working now on its own power and it will continue to work until it’s destroyed along with Germany. Well, there won’t be long to wait. Already it’s almost impossible to get to Berlin from here. The fronts are closing in from both sides. Vlasov and Zhilenkov still believe they can make a deal with the Americans. I don’t believe in anything any more.’

‘What would you say to the R.O.A. turning against the Germans and fighting them?’

‘That would be low and dishonourable. We’re not Rumanians or Hungarians. We’re Russians. Maybe the Germans have fooled us and broken their promises. That leaves our hands free for independent action. But they at least trust us. And we won’t stab them in the back. We’re not Communists!’

‘Well, what’s left?’

‘For us, the gallows probably. But you and your friends, you’re free to make your own decision. You’ve got to try and save yourself. Can I help you in any way?’

‘Thank you, I don’t know. Perhaps you could give me another appointment. I want to leave Kramer as soon as possible.’

‘His Excellency is getting on your nerves? I understand. What sort of a paper do you need?’

‘Appoint me the committee’s representative, a fictitious one of course, somewhere near the Italian border. I’ll take care of the rest myself.’

‘All right, I’ll tell Levitsky. Anything else?’

‘I don’t think so. Goodbye, Vassily Feodorovich. I’m really no less pessimistic than you, but still I want to wish you and all of those with you the best of luck. I hope you’ll be able to save yourselves. Perhaps we’ll meet again.’

He shook his head.

‘If everything crashes and they begin to destroy our soldiers and officers, we won’t have the right to save our own necks. Neither Vlasov nor Trukhin nor Zhilenkov will try to save themselves. There are situations when everyone must perish together.’

‘Yes, like a captain going down with his ship . . .’

‘Yes, like a captain. Many mistakes have been made but blood washes away a great deal. In our efforts there was a spark of something great and clean, and that must be preserved for the future. Good-bye.’

I left him with a heavy heart.

The next day, having obtained an order from Malyshkin’s office appointing me the committee’s representative in Klagenfurt, in southern Austria, I took leave of all my new friends. In the lobby I ran into Vlasov. He recognized me and said, ‘I’m going to Berlin right away. I’m going to try to do everything possible and impossible. Tell them in Vienna not to lose heart. Not everything is lost yet. Goodbye.’

He left the hotel, followed by Zhilenkov and two S.S. men. A minute later his car disappeared around the bend.

In his trail, I set out for the station myself.

This time I went by way of Prague, where I had to change trains. I took a walk around this amazing city, untouched by bombs or war, perhaps the only such under German rule.

When I got back to Vienna, however, I learned from the newspapers that even Prague had been raided shortly after I had left.

* The flag of the old Imperial Russian Navy.