Prohibition of Interference. Book 5. Steel-colored Moon. Макс Глебов
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Stalin sat at his desk, sucking on the mouthpiece of an unlit pipe, and thoughtfully looked over the documents in front of him. On top of the other papers were two telegrams. One came early in the morning from Mekhlis, and another, signed by Nagulin, arrived late in the evening.
The proven communist Mekhlis, whose unquestionable loyalty and honesty aroused no doubts in the Chief's mind, behaved quite predictably. Stalin did not doubt for a second that he and Nagulin would not work together, but he believed that their competition and the mutual dislike that quickly arose would serve as additional incentives to solve the complex tangle of problems that the situation in the Crimea increasingly resembled.
Mekhlis branded the command of the Crimean Front with bad words, especially pointing to the complete inconsistency of Lieutenant General Kozlov and his Chief of Staff, Tolbukhin, to their positions. He claimed that they perceived trips to the troops as punishment, and led the front from afar, preferring to sit out most of the time on the other side of the Kerch Strait. He also demanded an urgent reinforcement of the front with infantry and tanks, since many equipment and personnel had been lost in the botched offensives undertaken by the Crimean Front in recent weeks. According to Mekhlis, Kozlov completely failed in his preparations for a decisive offensive, and he was in principle incapable of organizing it effectively.
He naturally criticized Nagulin as well. Mekhlis accused him of arbitrariness and total disregard for the task set by the Headquarters of the Supreme High Command, and, finally, of direct sabotage of offensive preparations, which was expressed in an order to the troops to switch to defense and limit themselves to imitation actions, aimed at misleading the enemy about the allegedly being prepared for an attack in the north of the peninsula.
Stalin frowned involuntarily. In the morning, immediately after reading the first telegram, this order of the young representative of the Headquarters of the Supreme High Command, unexpected and not coordinated with anyone, caused him indignation, which, apparently, Mekhlis hoped for. Nevertheless, the Commander-in-Chief remembered that the advisability of Nagulin's actions had been questioned more than once in a variety of situations, and almost always these doubts proved unfounded. Therefore, he preferred to wait a while and not make hasty decisions. In the end, this approach turned out to be correct.
Nagulin explained his position in detail in his telegram of the evening, and his arguments, at the very least, deserved careful consideration and raised a number of serious concerns.
The only thing in which Mekhlis and Nagulin did not contradict each other was the need for the urgent transfer of reinforcements to the Kerch Peninsula. Only the first of them asked for infantry and tanks, and the second for fighters. In principle, Nagulin probably would not have objected to ground troops either, but, in his opinion, the moment had already passed and there was simply no time left to get them into Crimea.
“Comrade Stalin, Marshals Shaposhnikov and Budyonny and Generals Zhukov and Zhigarev have arrived,” reported the Chief's personal aide, Poskrebyshev.
Stalin nodded silently, and left the table to meet the top military leaders of the USSR entering the cabinet. All four invitees had already seen copies of the telegrams from the Crimean Front, so Stalin did not have to bring them up to speed.
“Let's start with you, Boris Mikhailovich,” the Supreme Commander-in-Chief addressed the Chief of the General Staff as the visitors seated themselves at the long conference table. “Comrade Mekhlis's position is very clear to me and needs no comment. What do you think of the telegram from Major General Nagulin?”
“This is very unpleasant information, Joseph Vissarionovich,” replied Shaposhnikov after a short pause. “Frankly, if I had received such a telegram from Lieutenant General Kozlov, I would have suspected him of panic or inadequate assessment of enemy forces. As for Comrade Nagulin, I can say that I have never yet noticed him showing any signs of unreasonable panic, and if, after personally conducting air reconnaissance, he claims that we cannot avoid a heavy defeat without immediately reinforcing the front with air power, I would, at the very least, listen very carefully to this opinion.”
Stalin nodded to Shaposhnikov, showing that he took note of his words and turned his gaze to Budyonny.
“And what will the commander-in-chief of the North Caucasus tell us on this issue? The supply of the Crimean front with everything necessary and control of General Kozlov's actions are in your charge, Comrade Marshal. What do you think about what Mekhlis and Nagulin said about the state of affairs on the Kerch Peninsula?”
“Until recently there was no reason for such harsh assessments, Comrade Stalin,” Budyonny answered clearly. “However, much of my understanding of the situation in the Crimea was based on General Kozlov's reports, which in turn were based on front-line intelligence. I see no reason not to believe Comrade Mekhlis's assessment, especially since, according to my own impressions, Lieutenant General Kozlov is not showing his best side as a front commander.”
“Let's leave Comrade Kozlov alone for now,” Stalin winced slightly, “I understand your desire to have someone like Hindenburg in his place, but you can't help knowing that we have no Hindenburgs in reserve. In general your position is clear to me, although I had hoped to hear from you a more specific answer.”
Stalin put the pipe on the table and looked around at the assembled officers.
“Who else has something to say, comrades?”
Zhukov took the floor.
“In my opinion, Lev Zakharovich paints the devil blacker than he really is. I am not talking now about the situation in Crimea, but about the actions of Major General Nagulin. This man would not sound the alarm in vain. I saw how he acted near Leningrad. Any other commander in his position would have long ago cried out for reinforcements and reserves, but Nagulin solved the problem with the forces available, although even I had the feeling for a moment that he would not make it. When such a commander speaks of the urgent need to go on the defensive and demands that the air force be transferred to him immediately, I have an irresistible urge to give him twice as many planes as he asks for.”
“I totally agree,” Shaposhnikov supported Zhukov.
“ Is that so?” Stalin grinned, “This is a commendable unanimity, but I would like to remind you, comrades, that if we had the ability to immediately send twice as many tanks, planes, and artillery to each front commander or Headquarters of the Supreme High Command representative than he asks for, we would already be having tea in Berlin, or even on the shore of the English Channel.
Comrade Zhigarev, Major General Nagulin's telegram gives justification for the number of planes we can send him without critical damage to other sections of the front. The Headquarters of the Supreme High Command is interested in your opinion as to whether we can really remove and redeploy to the Crimea some of the fighters from these frontal air groups and not have irreparable consequences for ground troops as a result.”
Zhigarev didn't answer right away. The commander of the Red Army Air Forces gave everyone at the meeting an attentive look and said softly:
“Comrades, don't you think that Major General Nagulin, who recently received a high rank and was first sent by the Headquarters of the Supreme High Command to one of the fronts, knows too much about the size of our Air Force, its structure and distribution across fronts and armies? Honestly, judging by his telegram, he knows as much as I do.”