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Stationed In Moscow ... For Good
A Tale of Love and Peril in the Cold War
by
Vladimir McMillin
© 2013 Vladimir McMillin
All rights reserved.
Stationed in Moscow...For Good
A Tale of Love and Peril in the Cold War is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in eBook format by AKA-Publishing
Converted by http://www.eBookIt.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-9366-8845-6
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical or by any information or storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author.
Also available in Paperback ISBN 978-1-936688-42-5
This book is dedicated to those who gave me great inspiration:
Michael *Misha* Robbins,
Greg *Grisha* Miller,
my beautiful wife, Larissa,
my wonderful sons Vlad, Andrei and Sasha,
and to my dearest Mom and Dad.
Prologue
The news published in almost all American newspapers and major magazines in May of 1948 including Life and Newsweek shocked the entire American establishment. The “Cold War” between the USA and the USSR was gaining momentum and the “Iron Curtain” was built to divide the relationship between former War World II allies. James McMillin, 21-year-old U.S. Army sergeant serving with the Embassy in Moscow, deserted his post in exchange for the love of Russian woman, Galina Dunaeva. Russian authorities released propaganda stating that it was a political act—McMillin’s protest against the anti-Soviet policies of the capitalists. But back in the United States some Americans held their own view on this incident; one of them former roommate of McMillin in Moscow’s American House, the first landing place for most American servicemen, Sgt. Paul Beatley. He told journalists what was really happening in Moscow when McMillin decided to defect.
According to Beatley, nearly every newly arrived American soldier in Moscow was showered with the attention of Russian girls. “Everyday life for Russians was so boring that the beautiful young local girls were willing to do almost anything to date Americans. The young men were great entertainment for them. Of course, we suspected that they were connected with the KGB, but who cared? We were young, and the sexy Russian girls were so enchanting we couldn’t resist them.”
American House was a two-story, red-brick building facing the Moscow River, close to Park Kulturi Bridge. It was only about a mile from the Kremlin, Moscow’s historic downtown where Soviet government offices were located. The U.S. Embassy was also close by. On the right side was the KGB office building, at that time it was called the NKVD—the secret police department.
The American Embassy officials were relatively sure that hidden microphones were planted in the walls of American House, placed there by the NKVD, so soldiers were instructed to be very careful of their conversations while in their rooms. About thirty-five men lived in American House in very poor conditions. The atmosphere was depressing; the cracked walls were dirty yellow, floors were rotting away in places, so the pretty Russians girls were a good diversion for the soldiers during their isolated existence at American House. Beatley was really surprised by the fact that these young women, who were willing to give up everything to have fun, were personable, and once taken on as a steady girlfriend, were faithful to one man—at least while he was around.
Beatley told journalists that he remembered well meeting Galina Dunaeva for the first time. “She had married Sgt. John Biconish two weeks before I arrived in Moscow. When word got to his authorities, he was sent back to the United States and Galina was left behind. She was so sad. One thing I have to say is that she was unquestionably the most beautiful of all the girls who came to American House.” According to Beatley, he could still picture Galina. She was five feet seven inches tall and weighed around 115 pounds with a lovely fair complexion and lush blonde hair. Her appealing blue eyes were framed in a sweetly oblong face—accentuated by a scar under the chin. She had a perfect figure and a flirtatious and gregarious personality.
“Jimmy fell in love with Galina right before my eyes at a routine dancing party at American House. Knowing her situation, he was very gentle with her and helped her out after Biconish had been transferred back to the states. Jimmy was about my age. He was six feet tall and weighed about 150 pounds. He was well liked and respected for his intelligence. He didn’t drink and he didn’t take up with the girls—that is, until he fell for Galina.”
Beatley told reporters that he and Jimmy liked each other from the start, and Jimmy never minded his presence when Galina was around.
“For nine months I roomed with Jimmy. Then we parted ways. It was not my fault, but Jimmy started to suspect that I was looking differently at Galina. He was a jealous guy. I understood him. He was deeply in love with her.”
After Beatley had been back in the States for a couple months, he read about Jimmy’s “desertion.” He said one thing he knew for sure was that Jimmy was never a Communist or party sympathizer.
“There were no pro-Communists at the Embassy, that’s for sure. The drab Moscow life, the heavy atmosphere of fear and suspicion smothered any tendencies in that direction. Jimmy had often said there was nothing in Russia that could compare with the American way of life.”
Beatley told interviewers that he never thought of Galina as a clever, experienced KGB agent. He remembers her as a vain, possessive woman. She never argued a point—she insisted. After breaking away from Beatley, Jimmy started to become very strange. He stopped coming to mess and rarely spoke to anyone. Galina was with him all the time.
Beatley, when confronted by journalists simply said, “Maybe we should not blame the guy too much.”
Chapter 1
I grew up in Moscow, but not in a typical Russian family, and for sure not with typical Russian parents. My last name, McMillin, was not a common name in Russia. Actually there were no other McMillins in Russia at all. There were only three of us. My half sister’s last name was Dunaeva, our mom’s maiden name. I am seven years younger than she.
I figured out that my family was unusual when I was three years old. One of my earliest memories was my third birthday. I remember being fascinated when my dad unwrapped and began putting together all the pieces of my birthday gift, a shiny white American Ford pedal car!
No kid in Russia at that time—the beginning of the 1950s—had a pedal machine. It wasn’t even in anybody’s dreams. Nobody had ever heard of such a thing. I was very proud to have such a pedal machine. I didn’t care where it came from. When I drove that beauty on the sidewalks, dozens of people followed with amazement on their faces.
Another
