zero.
Before leaving for the day General Tyulenev checked with Defense Commissar Timoshenko, who advised him there had been more evidence of German war preparations: there were suspicious activities at the German Embassy; many of the embassy personnel had left, either departing the country or driving out of Moscow. Tyulenev telephoned General Staff headquarters as well. He was told that Soviet border commanders reported a quiet day but that intelligence sources continued to indicate an imminent German attack. The information had been relayed to Stalin, who said there was no point in stirring up panic.
Stalin’s question about the Moscow air defenses did not arouse alarm in General Tyulenev’s mind. He had his chauffeur drive him to the quiet little side street, Rzhevsky Pereulok, where he lived with his wife and two children. He glanced at the newspaper, Vechernaya Moskva , as he drove through the main streets. No special news. He noticed that posters had been put up for Leonid Utyosov’s first summer jazz concert at the Hermitage Park. On Monday a movie was opening— The Treasure of the Gorge . The General heard some youngsters singing from an open window, one of the new popular songs: “ Lyubimy gorod . . . beloved city.”
He wondered what to do on Sunday. Should he spend the day at his summer villa at Serebrany Bor, just outside Moscow, or should he take the youngsters to the opening of the water stadium at Khimki?
He decided to postpone a decision until morning and, picking up his wife and children in Rzhevsky Pereulok, drove on out to his dacha.
Tyulenev’s account leaves no doubt that if Stalin reached the conviction on Saturday afternoon that war with Germany was imminent, he did not communicate a feeling of urgency to his military associates. No evidence has come to light that he took other precautionary action on Saturday afternoon until after 5 P.M. , when Marshal Timoshenko and General Zhukov were summoned to the Kremlin.
There a meeting of the Politburo was discussing the possibility that the Germans might attack either Saturday night or on Sunday. Marshal Semyon Budyonny is the only source for what happened, but his account conveys a sense of the unreality of the occasion. 9 Those present were called upon to offer their views of what should be done. Budyonny suggested that all armies east of the Dnieper be ordered to start moving in the direction of the frontier. Once they were in motion, he said, “it doesn’t matter what happens. Whether the Germans attack or not, they will be in position.”
It seems not to have occurred to Budyonny or any one else at the meeting that such a plan would put thousands of troops in motion on highways and railroads, an easy target for the German dive bombers.
Budyonny’s second proposal was to “take all the ropes off the planes” and put them on a No. 1 Alert. In normal Soviet practice the planes were secured to the ground by ropes and wires. Budyonny’s proposal meant that they would be freed and that the Soviet pilots would sit in readiness for take-off in their cockpits.
Budyonny’s third proposal was that a line of deep defense be set up on the Dnieper and Dvina from Kiev to Riga. He proposed that the population be mobilized with spades and shovels to transform the banks of the rivers into an impassable tank barrier. He thought that such a defense line would probably be needed because the Germans were in a stage of full military readiness whereas the Soviet forces were in the opposite condition.
There was some discussion, and then Stalin intervened: “Budyonny seems to know what to do, so let him be in chargé.”
Budyonny forthwith was named to command the Soviet Reserve Army with the construction of the Dnieper defense line as his immediate assignment. Georgi M. Malenkov was made his political commissar. The appointment came nine hours before the Nazis attacked. Budyonny had nothing with which to carry out his task—no staff, no troops, no
Before leaving for the day General Tyulenev checked with Defense Commissar Timoshenko, who advised him there had been more evidence of German war preparations: there were suspicious activities at the German Embassy; many of the embassy personnel had left, either departing the country or driving out of Moscow. Tyulenev telephoned General Staff headquarters as well. He was told that Soviet border commanders reported a quiet day but that intelligence sources continued to indicate an imminent German attack. The information had been relayed to Stalin, who said there was no point in stirring up panic.
Stalin’s question about the Moscow air defenses did not arouse alarm in General Tyulenev’s mind. He had his chauffeur drive him to the quiet little side street, Rzhevsky Pereulok, where he lived with his wife and two children. He glanced at the newspaper, Vechernaya Moskva , as he drove through the main streets. No special news. He noticed that posters had been put up for Leonid Utyosov’s first summer jazz concert at the Hermitage Park. On Monday a movie was opening— The Treasure of the Gorge . The General heard some youngsters singing from an open window, one of the new popular songs: “ Lyubimy gorod . . . beloved city.”
He wondered what to do on Sunday. Should he spend the day at his summer villa at Serebrany Bor, just outside Moscow, or should he take the youngsters to the opening of the water stadium at Khimki?
He decided to postpone a decision until morning and, picking up his wife and children in Rzhevsky Pereulok, drove on out to his dacha.
Tyulenev’s account leaves no doubt that if Stalin reached the conviction on Saturday afternoon that war with Germany was imminent, he did not communicate a feeling of urgency to his military associates. No evidence has come to light that he took other precautionary action on Saturday afternoon until after 5 P.M. , when Marshal Timoshenko and General Zhukov were summoned to the Kremlin.
There a meeting of the Politburo was discussing the possibility that the Germans might attack either Saturday night or on Sunday. Marshal Semyon Budyonny is the only source for what happened, but his account conveys a sense of the unreality of the occasion. 9 Those present were called upon to offer their views of what should be done. Budyonny suggested that all armies east of the Dnieper be ordered to start moving in the direction of the frontier. Once they were in motion, he said, “it doesn’t matter what happens. Whether the Germans attack or not, they will be in position.”
It seems not to have occurred to Budyonny or any one else at the meeting that such a plan would put thousands of troops in motion on highways and railroads, an easy target for the German dive bombers.
Budyonny’s second proposal was to “take all the ropes off the planes” and put them on a No. 1 Alert. In normal Soviet practice the planes were secured to the ground by ropes and wires. Budyonny’s proposal meant that they would be freed and that the Soviet pilots would sit in readiness for take-off in their cockpits.
Budyonny’s third proposal was that a line of deep defense be set up on the Dnieper and Dvina from Kiev to Riga. He proposed that the population be mobilized with spades and shovels to transform the banks of the rivers into an impassable tank barrier. He thought that such a defense line would probably be needed because the Germans were in a stage of full military readiness whereas the Soviet forces were in the opposite condition.
There was some discussion, and then Stalin intervened: “Budyonny seems to know what to do, so let him be in chargé.”
Budyonny forthwith was named to command the Soviet Reserve Army with the construction of the Dnieper defense line as his immediate assignment. Georgi M. Malenkov was made his political commissar. The appointment came nine hours before the Nazis attacked. Budyonny had nothing with which to carry out his task—no staff, no troops, no
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