Stalin's War: Volume One: The World in Flames Trilogy by Strain Jack

Author:Strain, Jack [Strain, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2014-06-03T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty Six

July 17, 1945, 10:45 p.m.

Moscow, The Kremlin

A crowd had gathered in the two outer rooms of his Stalin’s bedchamber. Everyone from Stalin’s daughter, Svetlana, to the staff of Kremlin physicians, to a whole assembly of political, security, and military men held what at first glance appeared as a kind of vigil. Food was prepared and sat largely untouched, vodka was laid out as was customary, but left largely untouched. Hardly a word was spoken, as if they all feared that he could somehow hear everything that was said.

What if he suddenly awoke and stormed out of the room and pointed a finger at the man drinking vodka or stuffing himself with smoked salmon, all while the “Boss” lays injured and suffering. No one wanted to give the impression that they were anything other then paralyzed at the thought of Stalin being incapacitated or worse.

Grown men who had survived the Revolution, the purges, and even Hitler’s invasion waited in the antechamber for what was to come. They all knew that physically, Stalin should be fine, but emotionally, they trembled at what may happen. The man often wasn’t predictable to begin with, how were they to predict how he would react after what happened the previous day? Some of the men in the room thought, but dared not even whisper the words, that maybe it would be for the best if he just continued to sleep.

NKVD chief, Beria, was beside himself waiting to find out his fate after the debacle in Berlin. He had seen the man order the death of whole families for lesser crimes than his own sins. As head of security, responsibility for what happened could only fall squarely on his shoulders, and the weight of his crimes had caused Beria to hover near the point of a complete nervous breakdown.

Inside Stalin’s bedroom, three nurses and two doctors stood guard over his body, measuring all his vitals. They stood ready to act in an instant in case of any signs of distress suddenly appeared. Finally after more than eight hours, their special patient started to show signs of movement. Both doctors moved closer to the bed to watch carefully if Stalin was coming out of his drug-induced sleep.

Light began to flicker into his eyes and he slowly began to feel unfamiliar sensations. His eyes were heavy and didn’t seem to want to stay open. It took tremendous effort, he thought, to keep them open for more than a second or two. He was thirsty, that much he was sure. Patients on oxygen often complain of dry mouth and sinuses.

Where am I? Stalin thought to himself. Why can’t I move? He was trying to turn on his side, but he felt restraints on his legs and wrists. When he was brought in the night before, the sedative from the flight had worn off and he began pulling at his oxygen mask. So for his own safety, the doctor’s decided to restrain him for the time being. Starting to

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