Pass in Review
an inspection of the literature
A book may be as great a thing as a battle.
Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of Beaconsfield
Something a bit different for Pass in Review
this issue. I examine two polar opposites, one, a short whimsical
little photo history detailing the picturesque growth of a
California air base; the other a very long and carefully
researched history of a grievous, sordid, sick and sadistic epoch
in recent memory, the brutal war Joseph Stalin waged against his
own countrymen. He did this while locked in a death struggle with
his erstwhile comrade and brother-in-arms, Adolf Hitler, proving
that the enemy within was at least as dangerous to him
as Guderian's panzers knocking on the doors of Moscow. Because of
the importance of its subject, I have reviewed Stalin's Secret
War at great length and included, as an addendum, comments
Count Tolstoy recently made to me concerning the book. He enables
us to see as through a glass darkly what is in store wherever the
terrorist or bolshevik or fascist vision should prevail. That it
will not prevail is by no means certain, given a glance about the
globe, and given the disgusting track record of Western
appeasers, who are hoping and praying that the beasts will tire
and simply go away. Unfortunately, they will not be going away
any time soon. Blood is a very powerful elixir.
"The reason why men go to war is because the women are watching."
by Thomas Edward Lawrence [(T.E. Shaw) Lawrence
of Arabia]
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Travis Air Force Base
by Diana Stuart Newlin; Arcadia Publishing [127pp, $19.99]
(©2004)
Primarily a pictorial history of the Fairfield, California base,
the growth of Travis Air Force Base parallels the expansion and
increasingly diversified missions of the American military since
World War Two.
Major Newlin, the author, is the deputy curator of the Travis Air
Museum, and she has compiled another informative entry in the
Images of America book-series, Slices of Americana which,
as the blurb states, "celebrate the history of neighborhoods,
towns, and cities across the country. Each title presents the
distinctive stories from the past that shape the character of the
community today." With their sepia-toned soft covers and slick
black-and-white photographs, these engaging texts possess an
antiquish, vintage feel. No doubt their popularity — they
can be found in almost any bookstore or library — is a
direct result of the public's enormous appetite for nostalgia.
While today's base covers 6,000 acres and employs 15,000 workers,
the original site encompassed a mere 945 acres. Constructed just
after the Pearl Harbor attack, administered by the Air Transport
Command and initially called Fairfield-Suisan, the base was
designed as a gateway to the Pacific and a strategic defense
against a Japanese invasion of the West Coast. Fairfield's task
was to prepare aircraft and train crews for battle. The base
housed B-24s, B-25s, B-17s, AT-17s, AT-20s, C-47s and C-54s, some
of which are on display in the Travis museum. It was renamed in
1951 for General Robert F. Travis, killed along with his crew
when their B-29 crashed on the runway. During the Korean War, the
base became a major medevac point for wounded soldiers and by
1953, contained state-of-the-art medical facilities as well as
enlarged recreational and work areas.
As propeller craft were being phased out in the late 1950s,
Travis received SAC B-52 bombers and giant new airlifters like
the C-130 Hercules. Travis pilots ferried supplies to isolated
Berlin when Khrushchev's Wall went up in 1961, and transported UN
troops into the Congo during the Katanga secession and the
Stanleyville mutiny.
When the Vietnam War escalated in 1965, Travis began flying its
famous Red Ball Express supply missions, two per day
from Fairfield to Saigon. Base personnel also participated in
three big troop deployments between 1965 and 1968, carrying
infantry and paratrooper units into the combat zone. Sadly,
Travis had to endure the handling of thousands of caskets out of
Southeast Asia in those same years.
On a positive note, Travis planes evacuated several thousand
Vietnamese orphans in Operation Babylift in 1975, as
Saigon fell to the communists. Its crews flew components for
NASA's Apollo and Space Shuttle missions, and
by supplying the Israeli Army during the Yom Kippur War, helped
save that country from defeat. In the '80s and '90s Travis
personnel shuttled troops around the globe, operating in Grenada,
Panama, Iraq, Bosnia, Somalia, Rwanda, the Russian Republics, and
even Antarctica for Operation Deep Freeze, delivering
food, medicine, and vital equipment to stranded scientific teams.
As with all the titles in the Images of America series, the
photos are well-chosen and varied. There are, of course, old as
well as recent pictures of air crews and of planes in flight,
snapshots of celebrity visitors, such as Joe Louis, Liz Taylor,
and Danny Kaye, and a stirring group picture of the surviving
crew members from the famous Doolittle B-25 Raid of 1942. There
is also a photo of President George W. Bush addressing a Travis
crowd in 2001, just after the 9/11 attacks.
Anyone wishing to learn more about a colorful and unique local
history would do well to pick up this genial, entertaining little
book.
Stalin's Secret War
by Nikolai Tolstoy; Holt, Rinehart and Winston [450pp, $27.00]
(©1982)
"A dead man cannot bite."
by Joseph V. Stalin
An excellent description of Joseph Stalin's methods of
terrorizing his subjects appears in J.R.R. Tolkien's classic,
The Lord of the Rings. In that novel's climactic battle
scene, a powerful demonic spirit called the Witch-King assails a
warrior and utters this threat: "Come not between the Nazgul and
his prey! Or he will not slay thee in thy turn. He will bear thee
away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness, where thy
flesh shall be devoured, and thy shriveled mind be left naked to
the Lidless Eye."
Thus did Stalin, man of steel, heart of stone, the devil's
disciple, torment the Russian people, tortured ceaselessly in
Soviet dungeons and then dispatched to the far-flung graveyards
of the Gulag Archipelago.
Stalin's Secret War is not strictly a record of his
horrific crimes, nor the psycho-biography of a warped and wicked
soul – think of him as a cross between a more bloodthirsty
Tamerlane and Vlad the Impaler – although Tolstoy
illustrates aspects of both. Rather it is a carefully researched,
penetrating interpretation of domestic and foreign events
occurring during the fateful years 1938-1945. This was a period
when Stalin's fear of the regime's collapse was the overriding
consideration in his policymaking. And so he waged a war of
repression against those desperate, would-be rebels, his own
countrymen.
At hand was a frightful weapon, the secret police, Sword of
the Revolution, bequeathed to him by Lenin. More terrible by
far than the Tsarist Okhrana, which the Bolsheviks had
constantly decried as bestial and inhuman, this organ, first
known as the Cheka, was run by a succession of sadistic
psychopaths, starting with Dzerzhinsky, then on to Yagoda and
Yezhov and Beria. Stalin's great achievement, Tolstoy explains
with a touch of sarcasm, was to place the entire population of
200 million in thrall to the Cheka – later GPU, NKVD, MGB
– while himself retaining absolute mastery over the police.
The long, sickening tale of their barbarism, comprehensively
brought to light in Solzhenitsyn's epic The Gulag
Archipelago, reads like a nightmare from the Spanish
Inquisition. Except that in the case of the Soviet Union there
was not just one Torquemada, but thousands — interrogators,
torturers, murderers — possessing the coercive apparatus of
a modern state, recruited and rewarded for their savage
qualities.
Tolstoy documents some of the means used to squeeze fantastic
confessions from innocent people:
"Women and young girls were thrown into cells, beaten to pulp.
Their hair was torn out from their scalps, their fingers broken,
their toes crushed, their teeth knocked in. They were beaten on
their heels, kicked in the stomach, raped. Beatings of prisoners
and their families were a regular form of interrogation. A man
would be stripped naked, strapped to a table, and have his
genitals lashed to pulp with heavy, soaking towels. If these
punishments were not horrifying enough, you could have a needle
repeatedly stabbed through the back of the neck until a thrust
penetrated between the vertebrae, injuring the spinal cord and
causing convulsions .... A man had his hands clamped down to a
board and gramophone needles were hammered into the flesh of his
fingers under the nails. Then someone kicked him in the groin and
he lost his senses. His condition was such that he had to be
castrated in the prison hospital. In short, there was scarcely a
device for increasing and prolonging the agony of their victims
that the NKVD did not fasten upon with eagerness."
These and other tortures were but preliminaries, visited upon the
victims before they were shipped to the destructive-labor camps
where fresh agonies awaited. At any given moment during the three
decades of Stalin's rule, upwards of ten million human beings
languished in the Gulag Archipelago. People from all walks of
life were continually raked in – children included –
from schools, industry, the medical and legal professions,
scientists, writers, farmers, peasants, and soldiers, up to and
including high-ranking officials who were regularly purged and
who groveled abjectly in the great show trials, where they
confessed to the most outlandish, preposterous crimes.
In this way, Stalin made certain to forestall any incipient
rebellion from above or below, all the while luxuriating in
Oriental splendor behind phalanxes of armed bodyguards. His
existence structured to avoid all contact with the resentful
poverty-stricken masses, Stalin, like tyrants after him, built
for himself dozens of mansions and palatial estates which were
hermetically sealed off from the public, and traveled mostly
under ground. Tolstoy presents a number of vignettes revelatory
of Stalin's hatred and morbid fear of the Russian people:
- A blind man's dog once awakened Stalin with its barking.
Both dog and master were immediately put to death.
- The Leader greatly relished eating a certain type of fish.
To please him and curry favor, the NKVD went grenade-fishing in a
lake, destroying the livelihood of an entire village. When the
villagers protested, they were all packed off to the
Gulag.
- Stalin's private train possessed automatic armored shutters
and carried enough supplies to withstand a two-week
siege.
- The Vozhd always wore a bulletproof vest beneath
his tunic.
- During military parades in Red Square, the NKVD maintained
an armored cordon around the reviewing stand, and Stalin forbade
the troops to carry live ammunition. Should any be discovered,
the death penalty would apply to them and their officers, as well
as to commissars who had failed to detect the contraband.
- To obtain foreign currency, Stalin concocted a
counterfeiting scheme in which the NKVD flooded the West with
fake hundred dollar bills. When the conspiracy was thwarted,
Stalin ordered waves of new arrests and sent multitudes to camps
in the Kolyma, digging for gold in the tundra and permafrost
above the Arctic Circle, where millions perished.
But it was in the realm of foreign affairs that Stalin revealed
his fears to the world, allying himself in 1939 with Adolf
Hitler, attacking Finland, and massacring the Polish officer
corps – fifteen-thousand men – at Katyn in 1940. His
aim was to extend communism into the Baltic States, acquire
territory, booty, new slaves, and liquidate all potential
opposition leadership. Hitler was happy to oblige him. The secret
protocols in the Nazi-Soviet pact not only divided up Eastern
Europe between the totalitarian giants, once again partitioning
Poland, but bound the dictators together in the pact of
blood — the blood of conquered peoples. Were it not
for Hitler's irrational attack on the USSR, Nazis and Communists
might still be allies today. As Stalin nostalgically exclaimed
after the war, "Ach, together with Hitler we would have been
invincible!"
This leads to a fascinating theory as to how the German invasion
of 22 June 1941 could have caught the Soviet Union by such
surprise, resulting in stunning defeats and near-collapse. For
years historians have debated why Stalin, always shrewd, cynical,
and paranoid, his political antennae attuned to the subtlest
shifts in the balance of forces, was so utterly deceived. Why did
he stubbornly refuse to believe that an attack was imminent when
numerous governments, as well as Soviet master spy Richard Sorge,
kept telling him so? Why was he astonished when it happened?
Tolstoy provides a novel explanation.
Clearly Stalin wanted to believe in Hitler because he feared and
respected him, but also because the alliance was advantageous to
Hitler, advantageous, in fact, to both of them — Germany
received huge quantities of raw materials nullifying the British
naval blockade, not least the oil with which Guderian's panzers
raced across France, while Soviet Russia received military
equipment from Germany — therefore an attack was contrary
to German self-interest. But more significantly, the Gestapo in
the first days of the war may have funneled information to Stalin
revealing that a clique of renegade Wehrmacht generals had
instigated the invasion and that Hitler would quickly put an end
to it if Stalin did not react. But why should Stalin have been
hoodwinked by false intelligence? The answer, Tolstoy speculates,
can be found four years earlier in 1937.
At that time there were numerous contacts between the NKVD and
the Gestapo, and in a strange circumstance Reinhard Heydrich,
head of the Schutzstaffel Security Service known as the
S.D., obtained evidence that German generals were plotting with
Marshal Mikhail Tukhachevsky, first general of the Red Army and
Deputy Commissar for Defense, to mount a coup against
Stalin. Delighted with information he could use against the
General Staff, which he considered insufficiently Nazified,
Heydrich, after adding phony documents to the Tukhachevsky file,
gave it to Hitler. The Führer at once saw that he controlled
Stalin's fate. Perhaps reasoning that a grateful Stalin in power
would be more beneficial to him than a potential Caesar, Hitler
passed the file on to his brother dictator. Tukhachevsky fell. He
was arrested and charged with conspiring with the Germans to
overthrow the government, and shot without trial, whereupon the
Great Purge commenced. Of 1937, Solzhenitsyn recalls:
"Arrests rolled through the streets and apartment houses like an
epidemic. Just as people transmit an epidemic infection from one
to another without knowing it, by such innocent means as a
handshake, a breath, handing someone something, so, too, they
passed on the infection of inevitable arrest by a handshake, by a
breath, by a chance meeting on the street. For if you are
destined to confess tomorrow that you organized an underground
group to poison the city's water supply, and if today I shake
hands with you in the street, that means I, too, am doomed ....
Now the countryside might have watched them massacre the city,
but the countryside itself was too dark for that, and was still
undergoing the finishing touches of its own slaughter."
Stalin forced the Russian people through a wringer of terror and
decimated the officer corps of the army, down to the company
level. Simultaneously in Germany the two highest-ranking
generals, Blomberg, the Minister of War, and Fritsch,
Commander-in-Chief of the army, were purged. Whether or not the
Tukhachevsky conspiracy actually existed, Stalin and Hitler
apparently believed in its authenticity.
Extrapolating from these events, it follows that Stalin in 1941
would have had ample reason to believe that Hitler's dissident
commanders were responsible for the attack and that the
Führer would soon rein them in. "The suggestion," Tolstoy
writes, "that Hitler sent personal assurances to lull Stalin's
suspicions as the invasion opened, would explain Stalin's belief
that the attack was a military provocation not to be responded
to. It would explain the ferocious purges within the Red Army at
the time, and the fact that the NKVD kept a very strict eye on
the movements of the Red Army near the frontiers."
Despite the deep German thrusts into Soviet territory that summer
and the loss of several million Russians killed or captured
— "All that Lenin built is lost!" moaned Stalin — the
Leader was not yet frightened enough to throw the one million
well-armed NKVD troops guarding the camps into the battles for
Leningrad – where the encircled, starving population
resorted to cannibalism – Kharkov, Smolensk, and Vyazma.
The transport needs of the NKVD, busily engaged in murdering
prisoners and shuttling others eastward away from the oncoming
Germans, had priority over the military requirements of the Red
Army, fighting for its life, and so demonstrated that Lenin's
heir feared the Wehrmacht less than he feared a slave revolt.
Though bitter rivals locked in a war of annihilation, Nazis and
Soviets were more competitors than true enemies. Their secret
police maintained contacts throughout the war years, and
afterward a number of SS and Gestapo went east and joined their
brethren in the NKVD. Collaboration extended to the joint
suppression of Czech and Polish freedom fighters, just as in the
good old days of 1940, and to Stalin's halting of the Red Army
before Warsaw in 1944, allowing the Germans to complete the
destruction of the risen Warsaw Ghetto and the extermination of
all remaining Jews in the city.
As his struggle with Hitler unexpectedly turned toward victory
and the Red Army began its westward march, new fears seized
Stalin. Escaped POWs and returning veterans, all those who had
seen capitalist countries and could speak about their prosperity,
constituted a menace to Soviet power and so were hauled off to
camps in the hundreds of thousands. Just when the Russian people
dared to hope that their years of suffering and sacrifice to
repel the invader would, must, result in a freer
society, Stalin tightened his grip. Since many Russians (as well
as troops from all of Europe) had fought alongside the Germans,
800,000 of them under General Andrei A. Vlasov, former commander
of the Second Shock Army and hero of Leningrad who was betrayed
by Stalin, the country had to be punished, purged, bled and
re-bled. Whole nations of the Soviet Union were exiled to the
Siberian wastes; Volga Germans, Crimean Tartars, Chechens and
Kalmyks, and the NKVD redoubled its assault on the Ukrainian
nationalists, the Banderists. The teeming camps of Gulag
were never fuller than at the moment of victory. As usual, Stalin
took no chances.
The final chapters of Stalin's Secret War recount some of
the most shameful and sordid episodes in modern history, foremost
among them the British and American betrayal and forced
repatriation of thousands of unsuspecting Russian exiles,
including 90,000 men of the Cossack Corps, which had fought
against Stalin, and who were promised asylum in the West. Agreed
upon at Yalta, this base act of perfidy — hundreds of
desperate men and women killed themselves rather than be remanded
into the tender care of the NKVD — continues its
infamous echo into our own time. Western treachery was not
limited to betraying individuals. The whole of Eastern Europe was
condemned to slavery when the Allies permitted the Red Army to
occupy and install puppet regimes in every nation, including, yet
again, unhappy Poland, for whose freedom Britain and France had
originally declared war on Hitler in 1939.
Tolstoy also investigates the sinister role of Western traitors,
communist agents like Kim Philby and Alger Hiss, who were
ensconced in high government posts, and explains how Stalin's
Western enthusiasts, people such as Jean-Paul Sartre and Lillian
Hellman, strengthened an evil tyranny and helped perpetuate its
monstrous crimes. "One of the most disheartening aspects of the
Russian people's suffering," says Tolstoy, "was the widespread
indifference with which it was regarded in the free and luxurious
West."
Because the Russian people were considered the greatest threat to
Communist rule and therefore had to be continually purged and
repressed over the course of decades, the Soviet system was,
sooner or later, bound to implode. The only question was how many
lives would be snuffed out before that blessed event occurred?
The real reason for the collapse was not so much economic
as spiritual. For so great had been the people's agony,
so vast and prolonged the suffering, and so deep the feeling of
guilt on the part of the last Soviet rulers, that the only
possible outcomes were the Fall of the House of Lenin or
the descent of the entire nation into mass insanity.
Overall, this is a brilliant, enlightening, but disturbing
treatise that demands re-reading and reflection. Its sad subject
is mitigated somewhat by the liveliness and verve of the author's
prose, and by his effective use of irony. Tolstoy is masterful at
weighing evidence, and analyzes events cogently instead of merely
recording them; his voluminous chapter-notes and citations of
primary sources, particularly works by high-ranking Soviet
defectors, provide a solid foundation to the narrative.
The secret war of Stalin is, in the end, no secret. It
is a war that is ongoing, initiated by totalitarian terrorists
willing to drown all of creation in oceans of blood in the name
of the Party, the People, or the Will of Allah. It is a war
against the very notion of humanity's infinite variety.
Postscript
In a recent conversation with Count Tolstoy – he is a
distant cousin of Lev Tolstoy and patriarch of the clan – I
had the opportunity to ask him a few questions about Stalin's
Secret War. Since the book was written before the Soviet
Union collapsed, what, I asked, if anything, would he change if
he were writing today? I also wanted to know if he believed that
Stalin sowed the seeds of the collapse, or did he think the
system would have crumbled sooner without him. Tolstoy's response
follows:
"Although I have followed scholarly writing on the subject over
the years, I have seen nothing that challenges my major
conclusions. Obviously I would have to take into account the
fascinating and extensive material available in the Russian
archives, in which I have worked extensively since 1990.
I think the only serious alteration I would have to make is what
I think is an over-estimate of the number of people who suffered
and died in Gulag. The numbers undoubtedly ran into millions, but
not I think into the very large statistics I drew upon.
Stalin was extremely successful in achieving his personal goals,
and I suspect that for all his blunders preserved the
dictatorship more effectively than the would-be intellectuals
Lenin or Trotsky. The alliance with Hitler made perfect sense for
the Soviet Union and conferred on it great advantages while it
lasted. Only the unpredictable factor of Hitler's total
irrationality wrecked it — it was equally advantageous to
him. The regime could only survive by the exercise of unrelenting
terror, and as its most efficient practitioner Stalin must be
looked upon as a successful Soviet leader."
Bibliography:
The Great Terror: Stalin's Purge of the Thirties by Robert
Conquest; Macmillan (©1973):
Historical masterpiece by the leading authority on Stalinist
Russia.
contributed by Christopher S. Baldwin
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