Russian Amerika: Chapter Fifty Seven

57 - Chena Redoubt

    Major Heinrich Smolst worked his troops to their capacity. At his direction they dismantled the destroyed Chena Redoubt and sorted the material into orderly piles and rows. When they weren't working they drilled.

    Soon Bear Team functioned as one. Smolst thought if he clenched his fist, every other fist in Bear Team would do likewise. Their military smartness warmed his Prussian-like soul.

    After breaking their own record on the obstacle course for the fifth time, he threw them all a party. Finding enough beer had been his biggest challenge. But he persevered.

    "This is a wonderful party, Major," First Lieutenant Sunnyboy exclaimed as he slapped his superior officer on the shoulder. "I've never seen anything quite like it."

    Smolst grabbed the officer's wrist with a firm hand. "Lieutenants never slap the shoulder of anyone with higher rank, it works the other way around. Do you understand, Lieutenant?"

    The lieutenant's eyes widened and he visibly wilted. "Oh, hell, I did it again, didn't I?"

    Smolst released the wrist and smiled. "You're a good officer, Elijah. But you're a poor drunk."

    "That's good, isn't it, Major?" Without waiting for an answer the lieutenant stumbled away.

    "You're a good officer, sir."

    Heinrich looked up into the lovely face of Karin Demientieff, one of their best medics. Just looking at her could heal a man, Heinrich thought.

    "Thank you, Lieutenant. May I ask why you say that?"

    "You know me too well to think I'm kissing your ass, sir. But I can see that you truly care about your people. Am I right in supposing you were once enlisted yourself?"

    He narrowed his eyes and nearly lost his smile. "You already knew that, didn't you?"

    Her expression snapped from knowing to surprise. "No!" she blurted. "You really were an enlisted man?"

    "Started as a sub-private in the Troika Guard about ten years before you were born."

    She swallowed. "I didn't mean to get personal, sir."

    "Not to worry, Lieutenant. I'm not a Russian, I'm a Prussian, well, Austrian actually."

    "You served with Colonel Grigorievich, didn't you?"

    "For nearly eleven years in the Troika Guard."

    "I heard he was kicked out." Karin licked her lower lip nervously, but Heinrich thought she looked delectable. "Is that true?"

    His mood abruptly shifted. The party swirled around them, everyone tipsy or downright drunk. He felt the alcohol lift from his mind and he clapped his hands twice.

    "Bear Team!" he shouted.

    The entire room went silent and, over a thirty second period, they all straightened to attention.

    "You have all done an excellent job so far. I think you've conquered the civilian in each of you and have formed into a fighting team unequaled in Alaska." He raised his glass. "I salute all of you." He threw the vodka into his throat and swallowed.

    The room burst into applause. He grinned and held up his hands. They went silent and waited.

    "Lieutenant Demientieff," he nodded toward her, "just asked me a question I know many of you are wondering yourself. Would you please restate the question for everyone else, Lieutenant?"

    Color rose into her cheeks and she frowned at him. "I merely asked the major if it was true Colonel Grigorievich had been kicked out of the Troika Guard."

    Many heads nodded. The rumor had circulated among the troops since the Second Battle of Chena.

    "It's a good question, and the short answer is: yes."

    Startled gasps and murmuring voices suddenly filled the room.

    "The long answer, if you're interested, is this."

    They abruptly went silent.

    "In 1979, at the Battle of Bou Saada in French Algeria, then Major Grigorievich defied the orders of his commanding officer by commencing an orderly retreat rather than attack an impregnable position held by forces outnumbering his command three-to-one. The colonel, Major Grigorievich's commanding officer, held a pistol to the major's head and ordered him to attack the enemy."

    Smolst shook his head and sipped his drink. "Imagine a large, thin loaf of rock, thirty meters high. Then add five more loaves of rock, each half again higher, one behind the other. Now add nearly a thousand heavily armed Algerians evenly dispersed through those loaves of rock.

    "There is dust, and the sun is hot enough to boil your brains. I forgot to mention that the major and his men had been fighting up this miserable ridge for over seven days, were running out of water and ammunition, and had already taken thirty percent casualties. But as long as he led, they followed."

    Every person in the room stared at him, completely mesmerized. Most had stopped drinking as they waited for his words. He smiled and continued.

    "The colonel, a man who had spent his 30 years service behind desks from St. Nicholas to St. Petersburg and had wrangled a combat command to fill out his vanity-oriented career, ordered Major Grigorievich to take those ridges. He shouted the orders from a hundred meters distance, couldn't even face Grisha. The major crawled through heavy enemy fire to face the colonel and beg him to change his mind.

    "The major was fortunate that his sergeant-major followed. For when the major faced the colonel, the colonel pulled his side arm and pointed it at the major's head. 'Order your men to attack or I'll shoot you for mutiny on the spot,' he screamed."

    Smolst glanced around. From their faces he could tell this was news to all of them, even Captain Danilov who had been there. He also knew he was creating the seed of a legend here, but the Dena' Army needed it. Besides, he was greatly enjoying himself.

    "And?" Lt. Demientieff said.

    "Major Grigorievich refused the order, said it was madness and he would not send his men to certain death. The colonel had lost control hours before and was now close to insane. When he started to pull the pistol trigger, the sergeant-major shot him. Since they were all in the midst of battle, nobody knew where the shot originated, but they all saw it end in the colonel's head.

    "Major Grigorievich was now in command and ordered his men to commence a fighting retreat. He saved their lives," Heinrich had to stop and swallow, "and the Imperial Army court martialled him for disobeying orders. The bastards should have given him the Alexander Cross."

    "You were there, Major?"

    "Yes, Lieutenant, I was there. That was when I knew I would someday repay the Czar and his Imperial Army full price and when they least needed it. I have the Dena' people to thank for the opportunity."

    They burst into applause. He knew a Dena' appreciated a good story as well as the next person.

    "Let me buy you a drink!" he shouted. The party resumed and a line formed at the two kegs of beer.

    "If I may, Major?" Lt. Demientieff asked.

    "May what?"

    "Ask what your rank was at the Battle of Bou Saada?"

    "Of course you may." He winked at her. "I was a Sergeant-Major."