Port of Warnemünde
Wednesday, October 27, 1948
Two old men sat at the end of the Mittenmole, chain-smoking, tossing fishing lines in the water, and watching ships pass. It was one of the last pleasant days of the year, but both men had brought their coats, tossed over the back of their chairs, just in case the wind proved too much for them.
"Big one coming," Georg declared.
"We've seen that one before," Franz pointed out. "That's the big Russkie."
"Is it? Looks like one of ours." Georg had served his time in the Heer, and his eyesight was going. "You sure?"
"Ja. The flag's Russian." Unlike his fishing buddy, Franz had been in the Navy - long enough to have his leg smashed in an accident, earning invalid status right as the Great War had started. He'd counted himself lucky, as he spent the entire war shore-side, cooking potatoes and keeping the girls company, rather than getting sent to die in some muddy trench or some chilly ocean. He liked to fancy himself a ship-watcher.
They stubbed out their cigarettes and lit new ones. Franz reeled in his line and tossed it out again; neither really fished for anything beside the fun of it.
The Russian ship waited for the harbor pilot and then picked up steam, heading into Warnemünde harbor. Franz cocked his head. "You know, I think that's a different ship."
"I thought you said it was Russian."
"It is. But I think it's a different Russian. This one's painted different. The other one's all camouflaged up in green and gray; this one's got more dark colors." He couldn't read Cyrillic, but squinted at the name painted on the bow:
Адмирал Лазарев.
* * * * *
When the ceremonies were completed and all of the many tasks of arrival had been finished, the captain of the
Admiral Lazarev crossed the gangway to board the
Admiral Kolchak.
The two rocket cruisers were tied up side-by-side in Warnemünde, an unbelieveable sight that was likely to draw spies from half of Europe. The two brother ships had only been together once before, in the port of Tallinn, where the GRU kept a firm watch on foreigners with cameras. Here, in Germany, the efforts were merely confined to a doubled watch of Russian Marines patrolling the decks, armed to the teeth with SVT-36 rifles and PPSh submachine guns, and a rowing patrol in a launch.
Fyodor Morozov, commander of the
Admiral Kolchak, welcomed the
Lazarev's captain into his stateroom. "And now we may talk freely, Alexei Ivanovich," he said. "It's good to see you again."
"Likewise!" Captain Alexei Andreyev replied. They had been the two top officers out of the five who competed for command of the new ships. Andreyev, despite being junior in rank by only a few days, had received command of the
Lazarev a year prior to Morozov taking up the helm of the
Admiral Kolchak.
"Tell me, Fyodor Sergeyivich," Andreyev said, "How has it gone here, with the Germans and the French?"
"It's gone quite well," Morozov answered. "We recently completed Operation Pegas, out in the Atlantic. Good sea-training time..."
They chatted for a few minutes about the litany of exercises, and finally Andreyev asked, "How about the Germans? How is their professionalism? I've not worked with them before..."
"They're professional. I think they spend as much time at sea as we do - they just spread it out over more of the year. Engel's bound for the top, I think - ten years, fifteen, he'll command the Kriegsmarine. Kozhyukin - he's got the 13th Destroyer Flotilla - agrees with me. You'll meet Engel tomorrow. He'll have good questions, and you can challenge him - as long as you're right!"
Andreyev nodded. "Good. Now this little exercise we're starting - Shaka?"
"Shaka. Yes. Engel's still in overall command, but this will be our demonstration," Morozov said. "I'm in charge of the planning. Amedee came out from France. There are a group of Germans who arrived on Monday - observers. I'll have all four of them aboard
Kolchak, so you needn't worry about clearing room. I give them a tour tomorrow."
"Very well," Andreyev said. "What's the plan for next week?"
"Two days, out and back," Morozov said. "I'll have a draft plan written up by this time tomorrow; feel free to shoot holes in it."