SADAT PROVES HIS STABILITY AND LOYALTYSoviet prudery or Putin-era pride how a dancer “unexpectedly” sprang off stage onto
his lap, and his discipline lapsed. “My entire essence came to life,” as the girl “squirmed
on my lap until she achieved her purpose. ... Thirty Eg yptian pounds, a third of my
monthly pay, went up the chimney” for French champagne, caviar and other delica-
cies that were foisted on him, “plus an unscheduled laundry of my underwear.” He
claims that the incident “taught me never to visit such places again, but [my] curiosity
was satisfied.”^50
For enlisted men such binges were less frequent, and over time were limited even
further—probably in order to reduce the Soviets’ visibility, which became an increasing
political problem. Sgt Nurgaliev, during eight months spent in a desert SAM base in
1972, never got to see not only the pyramids but even a bathhouse, though there were
occasional visits to a local pool. “Living conditions were very bad. ... A plethora of
crawling, jumping and flying insects. On parade, everyone was scratching—officers and
men. Not everyone could stand it. Some had to be sent back to the Soviet Union.” The
food was still good, but monotonous; after eating rice three times a day throughout
their internationalist service, he and his comrades were aghast when at a welcome-home
banquet the main course was pilaf. “We begged for potatoes and herring.”^51
Arranging with contacts in Odessa for the donation and shipment of herring and
black bread along with a “new year’s fir tree” was one of the morale-boosting measures
that the politruk (political officer) Artem Khandanyan—who arrived with the second
“shift” of Soviet missilemen in February 1971—initiated that December. He credited
the Soviets’ presence for deterring any incursion by the enemy, but it was precisely
“the absence of combat operations” that
had a negative influence on the servicemen’s mood. They did not understand: “why are we
far from the homeland, in these tough conditions, if there’s no war?” Besides, 85% of the
division’s manpower was now under age 30, a generation whose concept of war was drawn
from books. The junior officers lacked adequate knowhow, as well as proficiency in psy-
cholog y and pedagog y, while real life and the circumstances required this daily.While they stood guard around the clock and lived in dugouts where even the rela-
tive luxury of air conditioners provided only “artificial air,” in nearby Eg yptian cities
nightlife throbbed “for the affluent classes” (a complaint that mirrored similar discon-
tent in the Israeli military). Despite increased interest in the political officers’ informa-
tion about world politics, “not everyone understood the need for our presence. Our
primary mission was explaining, putting across to every soldier that our country’s policy
was peace-loving.” Still, “a frame of mind developed that it was time to get out of here,
that there wasn’t going to be a war, and they were fed up with the desert.”^52
Akopov was among the Soviet embassy staffers whom Khandanyan and his col-
leagues enlisted for frequent visits to the troops. So there is little reason to doubt the
diplomat’s assertion that, shortly after the ceasefire, the Soviet regulars’ “withdrawal
was already in the air, but ... if we withdrew them ourselves, the world would profess