Conversations with Stalin by Milovan Djilas Read Free Book Online Page B

bread or sleep, under a hurricane of fire and steel brought by the desperate onslaughts of the Germans.
    If I set aside a biased, dogmatic, and romantic enthusiasm, I would today, even as then, rate highly the qualities of the Red Army, and particularly its Russian core. True, the Soviet commanding cadres, and the soldiers and underofficers in even greater measure, receive a onesided political education, but in every other respect they are developing initiative together with a breadth of culture. The discipline is severe and unquestioning, but not unreasonable; it is consonant with the principal aims and tasks. The Soviet officers are not only technically very proficient, but they also compose the most talented and boldest part of the Soviet intelligentsia. Though relatively well paid, they do not constitute a caste in themselves, and though not too much Marxist doctrine is required of them, they are expected all the more to be brave and not to fall back in battle—for example, the command center of the corps commander at Ia§i was three kilometers from the German lines. Stalin had carried out sweeping purges, especially in the higher commanding echelons, but these had had less effect than is sometimes believed, for he did not hesitate at the same time to elevate younger and talented men; every officer who was faithful to him and to his aims knew that his ambitions would meet with encouragement. The speed and determination with which he carried out the transformation of the top command in the midst of the war confirmed his adaptability and willingness to open careers to men of talent. He acted in two directions simultaneously: he introduced in the army absolute obedience to the Government and to the Party and to him personally, and he spared nothing to achieve military preparedness, a higher standard of living for the army, and quick promotions for the best men.
    It was in the Red Army, from an army commander, that I first heard a thought that was strange to me then, but bold: When Communism triumphs in the whole world, he concluded, wars would then acquire their final bitter character. According to Marxist theories, which the Soviet commanders knew as well as I, wars are exclusively the product of class struggle, and because Communism would abolish classes, the necessity for men to wage war would also vanish. But this general, many Russian soldiers, as well as I in the worst battle in which I ever took part came to realize some further truths in the horrors of war: that human struggles would acquire the aspect of ultimate bitterness only when all men came to be subject to the same social system, for the system would be untenable as such and various sects would undertake the reckless destruction of the human race for the sake of its greater “happiness.” Among these Soviet officers, trained in Marxism, this idea was incidental, tucked away. But I did not forget it, nor did I regard it as being fortuitous then. Even if their consciousness had not been penetrated by the knowledge that not even the society which they were defending was free of profound and antagonistic differences, still they vaguely discerned that though man cannot live outside an ordered society and without ordered ideas, his life is nevertheless also subject to other compelling forces.
    We became inured to all sorts of things in the Soviet Union. Nevertheless, as children of the Party and the revolution who acquired faith in themselves and the faith of the people through ascetic purity, we could not help being shocked at the drinking party that was held for us on the eve of our departure from the front, in Marshal Konev’s headquarters, in some village in Bessarabia.
    Girls who were too pretty and too extravagantly made up to be waitresses brought in vast quantities of the choicest victuals—caviar, smoked salmon and trout, fresh cucumbers and pickled young eggplant, boiled smoked hams, cold roast pigs, hot meat pies and piquant cheeses,