19920. Thirty-Five Years Later
So there I was with a new job. I was promoted to rank of senior
lieutenant and a position in the security department of the counter
intelligence agency Smersh.
I had commenced my new duties in my old division, in one
of its regiments, where I served two battalions at once; there were
not enough security staff at the time. It was still on the same front
line, with the same shelltorn trenches and, in front of us, the same
battered town of Uritsk, occupied by the Nazis. And still the same
exhausting daily air raids, shelling and the same old whistle of
enemy bullets overhead.
My main responsibility in the regiment was to help those
in command to fulfil their objective, and to ensure the timely
apprehension and disarming of enemy agents. For this I had to
have an excellent knowledge of every soldier and officer in my two
battalions. But then I was transferred to the 96th Howitzer Artillery
Brigade of the 23rd Artillery Division, which was stationed by the
Pulkovo Heights. I enjoyed being with the brigade. The gunners
were intelligent people, cultured, highly literate and battlekeen,
and there were many Communist Party and Young Communist
League members among them. Working with people like that was
easy and uncomplicated.