My father laid a map on the warm hood of the car and caught its thumping corner in the gust of Welsh wind. We are on a camping holiday, we are lost, he is trying to tame the map, lest we get lost. The tall, solid hedge blocks the view and is not marked on the map. Neither is the wild raspberry growing in the hedge. The weather is not. Nor did the man lay a map on the warm hood of the car, catching the corner it flaps in the gust of Welsh wind.

My father likes maps very much. When folding them, he respected the original creases very carefully and arranged them next to his impressive National Geographic magazine, which I like for its bright yellow spines. I think he believes in maps literally, not just as a reliable guide from here to there, but as a set of agreed principles that give meaning to the world and describe it to us. This belief survived his youth. This is a lesson of betrayal of the map. This is a miracle—belief is to see, not the other way around.

His confidence is sometimes tested by the difference between the map and the territory, although I don't know if he thinks the ground or the map is faulty (maybe the map reader has never entered the calculation). Once, when I drove to the church he wanted to go to in Somerset, he was holding a map, and he became more and more annoyed that our destination was farther than he expected. "This is not where it should be," he kept saying. We finally found this church, which has a Norman nave, so it is unlikely to move since the Ordnance Survey placed its symbol on the Landranger map.

In retrospect, I don’t know if my father is already in the early stages of dementia. He was only in his 50s, and a few years later, I realized something was wrong. (This is when he left three identical messages one after another on my answering machine to inform me that his fax number has changed. I understand what this means, and I sat down and burst into tears. This is not sadness, because of this , Even a sad rehearsal; this is the fear of the effort required to cope with this situation. You received three new messages...I immediately deleted them.) On the road in Somerset, I was surprised by him So excited: it is strange, disproportionate, but not enough to show that his cognitive function has been impaired. It's as if I saw a few tiles on the roof (a more embarrassing gust of wind) from the corner of my eye. I didn't realize this was a warning that his brain was on the verge of collapse.

It is said that the first lie of the map is that it is telling the truth. The only real map is a 1:1 scale, a map that shows every detail, including a map. Even assuming that this infinite regression can be shown (it can’t), the map is still not real, because the territory itself can never be fixed—the map must be constantly changing in real time to include fallen oak trees, rivers that burst banks, and new pavements. Mud seeping from the tarmac. A map is a kind of memory: it is a representation, a re-presentation of what has already existed. It might look good on paper—it's already a violin, a projection of a sphere on a plane—but it's always a botched job, and mapmakers know it. The map language is full of remorse for omissions and commissions: map silence, map falsification, map errors, deformation formulas (generalization, adjustment, displacement, collapse), unknown land. Every map is a fiction, a legend. It is no longer territory, just like memory is the past.

My father Donald Slomnicki (Donald Slomnicki) was 7 years old at the time and he could only speak a little Romanian. The students who had been attending Campina Elementary School since the fall of 1938 would not mention this consideration. The portrait of the king and the map of Greater Romania, in this perfect circle, according to the curriculum and power, everyone wears various traditional costumes and happily does various things.

In the living room at home, the man on the radio screaming back and forth from Berlin didn't like the map and wanted to change it so that he had more space. This is why Austria no longer exists and Czechoslovakia has become smaller. Czechoslovakia borders Romania, and everyone is worried that the man on the radio will bring his armored tank over it, so that he can continue eastward and build a very large, connected "living space". They said that in Vienna, many shops have displayed three maps, showing what this will look like: the first map is titled "Germany in the Past", the second one is "Germany Now", and the third one, "Future Germany" is'.

Bulgaria, Hungary and Soviet Russia also want to change the map. They claimed that Romania had stolen most of their country's land and should be returned to them. This can be achieved by redrawing a few red lines on the map, after which the Bulgarians, Hungarians and Russians will return to their homes without actual movement. "Revisionism", adults call it "revisionism", although it is not in front of children, because how do you explain the destruction of geography, you did not mention that people like us may find themselves living in the wrong part of the map, with corpses piled up. Where is the place up?

It is best to focus on the exciting futuristic buildings that have emerged in various border areas, especially the Maginot Line in France, which is "the greatest defense system ever." Donald's father Joe subscribed to the Illustrated London News-his collection of back issues dating back to the 1910s is beautifully bound in a red leather roll-and it has photographs and an artist's impression of the fortifications along the eastern border between France and Germany. . Donald and his brother Peter were not proficient in English enough to understand the text, so Joe translated it into German:

The main points of the system implemented in France on a large scale are as follows: a row of solid forts, protected from each other by crossfire, and connected to each other by underground passages, from bombing. All key locations that are usually vulnerable to aerial and other attacks are buried underground, such as living quarters, magazines, shops, power stations, and control stations.

"Nous sommes are indestructible." No one can pass. This line is "invulnerable", "invulnerable", "strong", and "indestructible". It has set off a fashion trend throughout Europe, and Belgium, Russia, Switzerland and Poland are all following it. But the biggest imitator is Germany, which is now trying to kill the Maginot line through German fortifications. This is the Western Wall, known as the Siegfried Line in English. It was started by Hitler under the cover of archaeological excavations of Roman limes, but it is no longer a secret and often appears in carefully edited Nazi propaganda films to conceal the fact that it is not as complete as it seems. .

The great and kind King Carol II, the father of culture and the father of the people, is also busy organizing a defense system to comply with his promise that "a foot of Romanian territory will not fall into the hands of our enemies." He has been touring the country, giving speeches to mobilize his subjects to complete the task of building a 36-foot-deep moat on the border with the Soviet Union. Parallel to the Transnistria, extending from the Carpathian Mountains to the Black Sea, once the oil is pumped in and ignited, this dam will become a "liquid wall of fire." Soon, the Carroll line of defense will form an uninterrupted chain of fortifications, a "living wall to resist aggression."

"Protecting Romania's "River of Fire": Fill the canal with oil, concrete and barbed wire," the headline of the London Illustrated News "Romania's Own Maginot Line" reads. These photos are not as convincing as the king's statement. One picture shows the reinforcement of the border between Bessarabia and the Soviet Union: the "horizontal plain" was dissected by (quite thin) "barbed wire belts", which were also mined. The other showed "part of a concrete wall"-two boards (are there more?)-"connected to an iron fence, which can be energized when needed"; in another place, a few men barefoot, Roll up your pants, widen the canal with a shovel, and transport the dirt back along the route, piling up into a berm that looks like a landslide.

Imaginot Line, people call it, under their breath. In a café in Bucharest, the waiter brought a spherical chocolate cake like a mine (Siegfrieds or Maginots, depending on the waiter's best guess of the customer's nationality).

It took me 24 hours to remove Austria from the map. On March 12, 1938, German troops crossed the border, and the occupation of Hitler’s birth country was completed the next day. As Gregor von Rezzori wrote in Cain, Hitler drove into Vienna in a convertible Mercedes, lifting and lowering his Right arm and left hand "hold tightly on his belt buckle", "as if he was afraid of his pants falling off". This is the era of balcony politics. Hitler appeared in a process of announcing Anschluss, that is, Austria "joined" the motherland. This process was quickly confirmed by a referendum in which the vast majority of Austrians voted to abandon their country's independence.

While communicating with friends and relatives in Vienna or Salzburg, Donald’s mother Elena now has to write to Germany. Since the Austrian postal service no longer exists, letters sent from the new territory Ostmark ("Oriental March") must use German stamps. There is no Austrian currency. These must be purchased in Reichspfennige, Germany. A stamp commemorating Anschluss issued in April 1938 depicts two brothers embracing men waving swastika flags, embracing themselves by the script of "Ein Volk – Ein Reich – Ein Führer". There were no Austrian stamps until November 1945.

It is impossible to know whether Donald understood the reason for the sudden disappearance of stamps from the country formerly known as Österreich. (I believe he has noticed: he has collected a lot of Austrian stamps, and every stamp collector has a greedy eye for things that don't exist.) Since Elena is German, she may have difficulty explaining this development to herself, moreover Needless to say her little boy. Regardless of her previous or current nationality, nothing can conceal the fact that in Hitler's estimation, she was related to Greater Germany by blood.

Blut und Boden, "Blood and Soil", is a doctrine of racial belonging. In this doctrine, nature succumbs to untrue claims, so there can be such things as German ancestry and German soil. Other countries will more or less deal with this nonsense as a result of the killing, but no country is as diligent as Nazi Germany. This is an alibi for Hitler's Lebensraum or "living space" policy. As for how the tens of millions of Germans living in Central and Eastern Europe were reunited with Waterland, he agreed with the principle of omelette for eggs. This will involve separating nations and carefully removing any elements that are not suitable for tolerance-Jews, Poles, homosexuals, communists, socialists, Roma, Jehovah's Witnesses, Slavs, Roman Catholics, pacifists , Freemasonry, Esperanto. In order to achieve this goal, every territory that contains German descent, even if they have existed for centuries without a single word of German, needs to be occupied and incorporated into the empire.

At the Versailles Peace Conference in 1919, Queen Mary of Romania shuddered at the thought of the possible impact of imposing a "terrible" peace clause on Germany. "I thought of the terrible pain that followed, of the fiery hatred that would fester the hearts of millions of people with the immortal desire for future revenge... I couldn't help feeling that it would be unwise to go so far— —Too much." She did not extend her insight to her own country. Her greatness is given by the same peace. She died on July 18, 1938, shortly after Anschluss, and she did not see Greater Romania spit out its proceeds.

Her state funeral in Bucharest attracted 250,000 people. The coffin was draped in a purple-red cheongsam and was carried out of the palace and placed on a gun cart pulled by six black horses. The salute sounded, 75 salutes sounded, planes roared overhead, church bells rang, and the entourage passed through the crowded boulevard to Mogosoaia station, where the coffin was transported to the Curtea de Arges Cathedral in northwest Bucharest. Thousands of people were holding candles on the rails, and the train took six hours to complete the two-hour journey. That night, Mary was buried next to her husband, who died in 1927. Her heart, as she wished, was taken to her summer house in Balsic on the Black Sea and installed in the chapel there.

Soon after the merger, the "reoccupation" of the Sudetenland "liberated" the "poor, persecuted, and oppressed German minorities" and announced the era of crushing and looting. (Congratulations: Hitler’s Czechoslovak looting produced the Skoda factory in Pilsen, which is the world’s largest armament factory.) Therefore, this is also the era of hidden things, sewing jewelry and currency into the seams of the jacket, Store items under the floor or dig them into the soil to hide the color of your hair (self-aromatilization through peroxides) and hide your feelings so that they don’t betray you.

Donald's best friend Roy Redgrave discovered that his father had hidden a 0.45 revolver full of bullets under his bedside table. Roy knows that his father is an "optimistic man", so why does he feel threatened in his own home? Roy, now 13, goes to a boarding school in England and travels back and forth on the Orient Express alone. This was once fun, but it no longer exists. Officials are no longer polite or friendly; border guards appear at each border crossing in different uniforms, asking passengers to show their documents and search their luggage. When the train stopped in Vienna, a man wearing a black uniform, boots, and a skull and crossbones badge on his hat quietly followed the carriage and took some people away from the train. Jews, someone muttered to himself. People have always worried that the Orient Express, a civilized vehicle of European values, is being threatened by barbarians and robbers from the uncivilized East. Now, the situation is just the opposite.

It was also at this time an uncle Zeng Zeng Zeng who was next to my mother who took the Orient Express to Vienna. While searching the archives of The Times for Anschluss news, I found a letter to the editor on April 2, 1938. Edward Stoner. Although it sounds impossible, he hopes to shoot some games in Austria, and believes that the German field artillery has no reason to change his plan. "Buchs on the Swiss-Austrian border," he wrote:

We were invaded by six or seven very young Nazi officials, who counted our money and carefully checked our passports...know the military value of this gun. I assure them that a distance of more than 100 yards has no military value and is only used to disrupt the game.

This seemed to satisfy the Nazi requirements. Edward and the five other passengers were allowed to cross a landscape of "long red ribbons dotted with Nazi countries" (he noticed that in St. Anton, even the resident dogs wore Nazis). Logo)). The train finally arrived in Vienna, and when the German planes were flying in formation overhead, the army marched along the Ringstrasse. Hitler’s portraits are hung in all the shop windows of Kärntnerstrasse "Vienna Bond Street", and the words "NSBO (National Sozialistische Betriebs Organisazion-National Socialist Enterprise Organization)" are attached to "Every house", which means It has been "cleaned from the stains of the Jews" and is now run by the Aryans.

Edward arrived in Bristol, where he had lived many times before and discovered that it was also an NSBO​​ and that its "amiable manager [has] been replaced". He went to the Rothschild Bank in Renngasse (currency restrictions caused him to run out of cash), but its door was closed, "the head of the house and the chief teller are in prison". He reported that the most astonishing sight was "a large number of people trying to enter the British consulate on Wallnerstrasse." They crowded the stairs and rushed into the street. Jews, desperately fighting for visas. "Poor, insane people, their chances of success are very small," Edward predicted correctly. "People want to know what the future of [they] will be except for hunger." There is a certain way out. The "epidemic" of suicide has swept the city: "In an unconsecrated corner near the central cemetery, I saw many newly dug graves by Lebensmüde, and they personally sought the rest of their lives that they could not find."

The British did not intend to save the Jews, although they would take in a small number of people as servants. An enterprising man (the manager who was purged of Bristol?) opened a butler school on Pratt Street, where he taught Jewish bankers and intellectuals how to serve the British. "I've been there with Minka, and we all laughed," said the anti-Semitic narrator of Von Rezori's short story "Tros". "Old stockbrokers hobbled around their hips in aprons, balancing the trays and opening champagne bottles."

The declassified Austrian Jews sought asylum in the “Public Appointment” section of the “Times” classification page. Please refer to the following: COMPANIONS AND GOVERNESSES, PARLOURMAIDS and HOUSE-PARLOURMAIDS, HOUSEMAIDS, MANSERVANTS, GARD ENERS, LADY GARDENERS, HOUSEKEEPERS, LADIES' MAIDS and MAIDS, BETWEENMAIDS and generals, married couples, CHASERVUSES.

May 11, 1938: "Young, well-educated female nursery teacher in Vienna, amiable in appearance, eager for a position: mother tongue is German, proficient in English; rich experience in kindergarten and housework, simple cooking, first-class reference—— Write to Lisel Braun, Arenbergring 10, Vienna III.

May 23, 1938: "Housekeeper or Companion Help". Austrian lady, 40 years old, good background, well-educated, job hunting: good cooking skills, needlework girl, fluent in English and French; pianist; willing to take care of children; highest credentials. Letter box 4435, Frost Smith Advertising Company, London EC2.

May 27, 1938:'Young Austrian lady (Jew) seeks tutor; experienced; good reference; teaches German, French, Italian; will accept a moderate salary; good family. Write box T.1653, Times, EC4.

June 6, 1938: "Mechanic, 23 years old, Jewish, graduated one year, looking for a job as a builder-Armin Freudmann, Vienna, IX Glasergasse 19."

June 20, 1938: "A well-educated young Austrian (25 years old), smart appearance, excellent Jewish family, seeking positions as a driver, gentleman servant, etc.: well-informed in automobile mechanics – Franz Leeb, Vienna XIV, Pillergasse 5."

July 4, 1938:'Very efficient Viennese chef (non-Aryan) seeks a housekeeper position; a 17-year-old daughter seeks a job as a nanny; both have gone through all the housework. Friedlander, 44 Weissegarberlinde, Vienna III.

July 4, 1938: "Correspondents in English, German, French and Italian-Austrian lawyer, Jew, perfect typist, want a position-Dr. Robert Fischer, Deutschmesiterplatz 2, Vienna I."

July 28, 1938: "Young Jew, opera and concert singer, music teacher, honorary Vienna Conservatory of Music, in addition to well-trained medical assistants, can speak French, Italian, German, perfect housework, want any Occupation. Apply under "28 years old", which is in charge of the Advertising Office, Emil Hirsch, 12 Kartnerring, Vienna I.

July 28, 1938: "Desperate Austrian couple with two children (boy 8 and girl 1.5) were forced to leave Vienna to look for work in England, colonies or dominions; no resources or relatives abroad; husband bookkeeper , Managing Director of the Vienna Fair, fluent in English; wife's excellent housekeeper and excellent chef; the smallest post allows them to save their children from starvation-please write to Mrs. E Stossl, Vienna II, Ferdinandstrasse 22, Germany.

What's wrong with you, Lisel Braun? Mrs. E. Stossl, with your husband and two children? Mrs. Friedland? Franz Ribe? Did you get out successfully?

Armin Freudman, are you Israeli Armin Freudman born in 1915, "no occupation", he was expelled from Vienna to Belgium, and was transported on October 10, 1942. 13 No. 547 was taken from there to Auschwitz from there as prisoner No. 547, where were you murdered? Or is this another Armin Freudman from Vienna, exactly the same age?

Dr. Robert Fisher, have you brought your typewriter to England? Or were you deported from Vienna to Buchenwald and murdered there on July 18, 1940?

Or are you Robert Fisher, transport plane 3, prisoner 3, who was deported from Vienna on February 26, 1941, to Opole Lubelskie in Lublin, Poland, where he was murdered?

Or Robert Fisher was deported to the ghetto of Lodz on October 19, 1941 on transport plane No. 7, train No. 5, and prisoner No. 372 from Vienna, where he was murdered?

Or were you deported from Vienna to Izbica, Poland, on June 16, 1942, and then to Treblinka, where you were murdered?

Or are you Robert Fisher, who was deported from Vienna to Auschwitz and murdered there on October 12, 1942?

Or Robert Fisher was deported from transport plane 24, train 205, prisoner 821 on June 2, 1942, from Vienna to Minsk, and murdered in Maly Trostenets camp?

Or Robert Fisher, a week later, on June 9, 1942, was deported from Vienna to Minsk on transport plane 26, train 206, and prisoner 701, and on June 15, 1942, he was deported to the Maly Trostenets camp. murdered?

Or Robert Fisher was deported from Vienna on July 17, 1942, transported 32, train 69, prisoner number 616, to Auschwitz, where he was murdered?

Or, you are Robert Fisher, who was expelled from Vienna on August 20, 1942, and took transporter No. 37, train No. 504, prisoner No. 806, to the Theresienstadt slum, and on June 1944 Where was murdered on June 6th?

Hitler, who likes to be photographed to study maps, understands that the physical world and the human world can be drawn according to almost any principle. The cartographic method he chose was to return in order to move forward: explain the lies of the land (and it is a lie) by propagating the past; then encourage people to believe that this historical "reality" can be restored. Therefore, the map that Edward Stonor saw after Anschluss shows three separate but continuous views of "Germany in the Past," "Germany in the Present," and "Germany in the Future."

As the anthropologist Bettina Arnold described, Hitler’s retrospective gaze was Homer’s expansive, and even believed that the ancient Greeks actually “survived the natural disasters in the north and survived the southern environment. Germans who have developed a highly developed culture"-this is a ridiculous fantasy, but for archaeologists who are eager to get tenure in the now generously funded theme of "Germanic Prehistory", it is worth pursuing of. To support this project, the entire vocabulary of German archaeology has changed. In 1935, the prehistoric and early historical chronology was officially renamed: the Bronze and Pre-Roman Iron Age became the "early Germanic period", the Roman Iron Age became the "Germanic climax period", the immigration period became the "Late Germanic period", and the period from the Carolingian dynasty to Everything about the "German Middle Ages" of the 13th century.

Heinrich Himmler, obsessed with Germanic runes (the symbol of the SS was adapted from one of them), was responsible for investigating the past of this supranational country, and soon showed that the European Neolithic culture spread from the Germanic homeland The map began to proliferate in popular magazines and movies. For example, Poland is shown as part of "German East Mark, Home of Germans". Once the original living space is determined on the basis of the (fraudulent) distribution of the archaeological remains, it is self-evident to return it to its rightful owner. The insults of centuries, which peaked in the Treaty of Versailles, can now be "corrected" by expelling peoples that once occupied Germanic territories-Slavs, Jews, or any other biological rudeness. The inherited earth will fall on Germany's shoulders; everyone else is squatting.

The story that Hitler knew that the Greeks were really Germans is nonsense. "Why do we want the world to pay attention to the fact that we don't have a past?" He once complained to Albert Speer.

When our ancestors were still living in mud houses, the Romans were building great buildings, which was bad enough. Now Himmler began to excavate these earthen house villages and was enthusiastic about every pottery and stone axe he found. The only thing we can prove is that when Greece and Rome have reached the highest level of culture, we are still throwing stones and axes and huddling around the open flames.

Himmler, the strengthening commissioner of the German Empire, also doesn't believe it, but this is not the point. As he explained, "The only thing that matters to us... is to have a historical concept that enhances the national pride necessary for our people. We are only interested in one thing-to project the picture of our country into the dark And the distant past, as we envisioned for the future.

Germany will be: Geography and Feng Shui overlap. When the world is mapped as a predicted phenomenon, every location and every boundary is a potential area of ​​change. If every place can be relocated or moved, then no place is safe.

In the summer of 1939, I can still imagine that everything will pass. Not because events support this hope, but because reality will provide various illusions when it becomes unreal. "Strong wish fantasy", Freud called it "strong wish fantasy", even if he did not realize his belief that he could continue to live in Vienna after Anschluss, even if the Nazis were in his office and home. There is a swastika over the entrance.

As Roy Redgrave recalled, that "last summer" was unforgettable because of its escape from reality. The Redgrave family lives in a wealthy friend's villa in the Black Sea resort of Constanta. This house with a minaret is located on the golden sands of Mamaia Beach, overlooking Ovid Island, where the poet is said to have published his poems and exile letters more than two thousand years ago. Roy wrote in his memoir "Balkan Blue" published decades later: "My father made sure we never have a boring moment." "The growing tension in Europe has been forgotten. I don't believe him or visit us. Many friends listened to the radio or read the newspaper during the last three idyllic weeks in August 1939."

My grandparents Joe and Elena and the children are visiting. Maybe they all wandered over to watch the Naval Day celebrations on August 15th. King Carol took part in the tanning in white uniforms after sailing the Mediterranean on his yacht; maybe they drifted for ice cream, as he warned them. Those who love peace should know that once the borders are drawn, they cannot be changed without the danger of a world catastrophe.

The day after the summer vacation, before dawn on September 1, the cataclysm occurred when German tanks cut into Poland from the north, south and west. Two days later, the Redgrave family stood quietly beside the tall mahogany radio in Doftana’s living room, listening to Neville Chamberlain’s announcement on the BBC that Britain and Germany were at war. A week later, Roy and his sisters leaned on their Opel bicycles and watched the seemingly endless tide of human wreckage flow along the main road outside Campina:

They are Polish refugees, exhausted old people, women and children, pushing strollers, trolleys and bicycles, leading a cow or a goat, and riding farm carts filled with bedding and household goods. The sides of the car were in tatters, the headlights were broken, and the roof was covered with mattresses, all filled with gray faces. The carriage was crowded with people in fur coats, dragged by tired horses with hanging heads, and some Polish soldiers walked hard in mud-stained uniforms, wearing unique diamond-shaped hats.

It was a "shocking sight", and Redgrave's children could not talk to each other. When they returned home, their father told them that Bucharest Airport was full of devastated Polish fighter jets.

Roy is no longer considered a child by his parents (or Florica, a maid who introduced him to adultery before his 12th birthday). 5 years older than my father Donald, he is now 14 years old and has become Donald's middleman to the whole world-this character has to some extent continued their lifelong friendship. He brought news on topics ranging from full English breakfasts to London trains running underground. There is no doubt that it was him, not Joe or Elena, who let Donald know what happened in Poland.

Initially, Romania tried to limit the number of Polish refugees entering the country, especially Galician Jews. But on September 21st, after Stalin invaded Poland from the east, Russian tanks arrived in the border town of Zaleszcki on the Dniester River. It coincided with the bombing of Dniester and a large number of desperate people gathered on the bridge. The Romanian Border Guard removed all passport controls and removed obstacles. No one runs, there are too many people. They just dragged their feet and walked over. Behind them, due to the clear weather, the German plane swooped down and swept the 20-mile-long refugee bottleneck.

Those who entered Romania moved forward stubbornly, and the local police did not know which direction to send them to. Many people have not eaten for several days, and they will fall out of scattered teams to eat sunflower seeds in the nearby fields. The locals who were at a loss came out to watch the parade of regret, show sympathy, provide food and water, and a place to rest. Most refugees head south, away from the border.

Going in the other direction were tens of thousands of Romanians conscripted into the army, who flocked to the strengthened border. Most of them are farmers, still wearing the clothes they wore in the field when they were summoned. "No enemy can trample on the holy and eternal Romanians," the king told them mysteriously. So they left.

Roy had hoped that this crisis would prevent him from returning to Sherborne, so when he learned that he would take the Simplon Orient Express, passing through Yugoslavia and Italy (Mussolini had not yet joined Hitler’s war), he was deeply Feeling disappointed. Someone on the platform said goodbye in tears, his mother put a small icon into his pocket, his father hugged him, his sisters cried, the train drove away, after numerous delays, a week later , Roy arrived in London. There, a family friend gave him half a crown, a cup of tea and a digestive biscuit, and then sent him to take a train from Waterloo to Sherborne. In the dormitory that night, he groped for the icon under the pillow, cried and fell asleep. Within six years, he would never see his family again.

If Roy leaves one day later, he may be able to avoid this painful separation and the ensuing estrangement. In fact, when the king declared a state of emergency and ordered the border to be closed, his train had already left Romanian territory. Telephone lines were broken, cavalry and infantry armed with machine guns were called up to Bucharest and larger towns, and armed police set up roadblocks.

This was September 21, 1939. That afternoon, Romanian Prime Minister Armand Charinscu was assassinated in Bucharest. When his official car approached the Elefterie Bridge, a group of steel guards, a fascist militia also known as the Green Shirts, came out of their hiding place and opened fire under a wooden car. Călinescu was hit by 17 bullets and died instantly, as did his bodyguard. His assassins then rushed into the national radio station, where they announced their heroic actions, not knowing that no one could hear their voices because the broadcast staff interrupted the transmission. Twenty minutes later, the police arrived. They surrendered and were taken to the police headquarters for interrogation. All parties knew that this would involve an elaborate torture escalation model.

When they were driven back to the crime scene the next night, the assassins could barely stand. Under the glare of powerful arc lights installed for this purpose and placards that read "Treason"! They were propped up in front of a large group of people and shot by machine guns. Their bodies were left on the sidewalk for 24 hours, surrounded by reservists. Their job was to control thousands of people who came to watch.

The corpse was then taken to Ploieşti and hung on a lamp post, attracting the audience again, this time organized into a queue. Any iron guard that can be found in the town will be hunted down, shot, and thrown in a conspicuous place. All parts of the country were purged in a similar manner until hundreds of people were executed. "Exemplary punishments", "irrevocable measures": These are the methods used by the king to "wipe out the remnants of the Iron Guard"-after all, he is a Prussian. As the body was still shaking on the lamp post, the official gazette stated that "the country is now in order."

An unprecedented order also came to Poland. By October 6, 1939, Polish resistance had collapsed, and Hitler and Stalin could only annex their spoils. According to the terms of the German-Soviet Border Treaty, they divided the country into two like crackers. Part of the Soviet Union was merged into present-day Belarus and Ukraine, and part of Germany was merged into the empire, called "Eingegliederte Ostgebiete", or the merger of the eastern territories, and its land and people would be immediately Germanized. The place name was changed and a new map was printed. The country called Poland no longer exists.

Roy later recalled: "In front of me, my parents never discussed disturbing incidents in Romania and elsewhere." It makes me feel weird. It's a way of trying to conceal and confirm what's wrong. But in Romania in the late 1930s, withholding the truth (or part of the truth that may be known) from children was to reduce the risk of them blurting out some indiscretions. This is now a suspicious and dangerous place, especially for foreigners. The secret police are everywhere, and lively conversations at work and even at home (especially if you have a servant) are replaced by coded, low-pitched communication. At the Athena Palace in Bucharest, the word "spy" hissed throughout the hotel. In its rooms and suites, guests locked their documents and followed the picture railings to find the cord of the tape recorder. Almost every employee is on the payroll of Carol’s secret police, German secret agents, Italian, American, British or French agents, or all of these agencies. Newsweek reporter RG Waldeck, who lives in the Athena Hotel, concluded that the "Apple Face" newsboy is best suited for surveillance.

They only need to turn the head wearing the little monkey hat to the right, and they can see the revolving door, the foyer and the desk. Turning the monkey hat to the left, they can see the lobby, part of the bar, and most of the green salon behind. Before their noses are stairs, two elevators and phone booths... These spies tell the police what people ate, how much they ate, who they were with, who came to see them, how long they stayed, what did they say... if so There is nothing to say, they made up.

Gone are the days when politics can be debated loudly in cafes and restaurants, or at cocktail parties in Redgrave. The visitors in the house were reduced to a small cadre, mainly people from the oil field. I looked at their names on the guestbook, and I wanted to shout: Get out. go. now. I'm sitting in the crow's nest of history, and I can see what is flying towards them.

My father's house in Wiltshire was backed by the Kennett and Avon Canal, which used to connect Bath and Reading, but was abandoned after the arrival of the Great Western Railway in 1841. In the 1970s, we were neglected and overgrown with weeds as we walked along the tow road, perfect conditions for growing juicy big blackberries. Near a Zuotou highway bridge across the canal, there is a small pill box, an ugly concrete hexagon, with tiny openings in the thick walls. It has a doorway without a door, but there is an L-shaped blast wall as soon as you enter the door, so you have to turn to the right and walk tensely along the wall four or five steps in almost total darkness before you can reach the inside.

The temperature dropped sharply, the walls were wet and green, and cigarette butts and condoms were scattered on the ground. The gap is too high for me to see the outside, and the inside is much narrower than the outside. There are graffiti everywhere: a repetitive theme is a heart with an arrow, with initials at both ends, but there are also taboo words like "pee" and "fuck", which undoubtedly describes the frustrating time The main activity is carried out in an airtight space. I hate it, I only went in a few times, maybe my brother Alexander dared not dare. Dad always walked straight past it. Going a little further, there is a smaller pill box beside a lock, but I have not been able to reach the door.

When we asked my father what these bunkers were for, he said that they were put there during the war to prevent the Germans from invading them, but this never happened, they just stayed there. I think, how strange, someone has seriously considered the possibility of sending troops to Kennett and Avon Canal. How will they squeeze along this hose with a lock that can never be opened? On a narrow boat?

There are other wars around-an abandoned airport with acres of cracked concrete. Dad takes us to "drive" his Volvo Manor (Alexander and I took turns sitting on his knees and holding the steering wheel, while Dad accelerated to the solemn Crawling); an air defense siren, stored in the "big house" in the village, and dragged to the lawn for testing once a year-but the war itself, compared with its casual leftovers, never insisted on entering my childhood imagination. Until now, I wonder what my father might think when we watch our favorite TV series "Dad’s Army". It shrinks back to "Mr. Hitler, do you think you are joking? Alexander and I find this funny.

In the window of the German Propaganda Bureau in Bucharest, there is a large map of Greater Germany. This is an interactive map, eye-catching, but unfortunately, it provides a wealth of information. Few people pass by without staring at the window, just as they look at the displays in the Lafayette department store on the boulevard. It works like this: Whenever Germany takes action on its ancient Heimat (Austria, Sudetenland, other parts of Czechoslovakia, Poland), cardboard arrows are placed on the map to indicate an irresistible advance. After the action is completed, the arrow is replaced with a cardboard swastika. Geography as a board game.

Soon, it was necessary to introduce other maps, because Grand Germany did not fully grasp Hitler's ambitions. The British Intelligence Agency on the opposite side took over the game, and the results were generally poor. Olivia Manning, disguised as Harriet in the Balkan Trilogy, provided the following comments:

She walked... through the square, into the Palace of the Goddess of Victory, through the parrot land of the gypsy flower sellers, to the British Propaganda Bureau. No one was looking at the photos of the British cruisers curling and yellowing in the sun, but the German bureau on the opposite side was full of people. Curiosity drove her across the road.

The shop window was filled with maps of Scandinavia. A three-inch wide arrow cut from the red cardboard pointed in the direction of the German attack. No one in the crowd spoke. People are in awe of the arrogance of the exhibition.

This is April 9, 1940, when Arrow announced an invasion of Denmark and Norway. In the following week, the arrow pushed the Norwegian around. At the same time, the British Information Office replaced the faded holiday cruise ship poster with its own map, which "marked the German destroyer lost in Narvik with restraint in blue." "Every morning, passers-by are attracted by these initial long-range actions during the war, crossing the road to compare windows and windows; but it is a blatant threat to the huge red arrow that controls the crowd.

On April 10, the red arrow in Denmark was replaced by a swastika (the battle ended in 6 hours). In the next few weeks, the Norwegian red arrow was also cancelled and replaced by swastika. Then the map was removed, and the window was still empty: "No one is impressed. After all, this is not the beginning of the event. This seems to be a step into a dead end. The audience is waiting for more spectacular entertainment.

On May 10th, Harriet and her friend Clarence noticed the reporter in front of the German bureau:

Harriet said, "There is a new map in the window." Clarence didn't speak, stopped and got out of the car. He stood high above the Romanian's head, stood for a while, staring at the window, and then turned and opened the door like an official business. "Well, it's already started," he said.

'What do you mean? 'Harriet asked.

"Germany invaded the lowlands. They have occupied Luxembourg. They are already in the Netherlands and Belgium. They claim that they are advancing rapidly.

On May 11, Liege was smeared with a swastika; Rotterdam followed closely, and then Antwerp. More arrows mark the advance of Germany through the Belgian Ardennes. (Not shown on the map: The French Continental Army retreated before it was activated; the road was crowded with escaped soldiers and civilians who were bombed by the Luftwaffe and shot by machine guns for several days.) On May 15, the arrow showed The direction finally rushed towards Paris and the English Channel. By May 25, a swastika appeared on Boulogne; less than a week later, in Dunkirk.

So far, everyone who sees in the German window should be clear that the arrow can only move forward, otherwise, what's the point? In the opposite window, the arrows of the British army were retreating, crossing the strait from Dunkirk’s beach, where it was modeled as a sandbox, and the boat stood in the blue wax sea—a poor propaganda film, though The truth is not so pitiful.

On June 12, the arrow indicated that the Germans were 20 miles from Paris. (Not on the map. David and Wallis Windsor left France in a convoy loaded with luggage.) Harriet and Clarence

See that Cismigiu's lighting has been turned off. In the park, people have been walking all the time in the summer, and now it is silent and empty. It is a dark map of the depressed city center.

Clarence said: "Paris of the East" mourned the number opposite her.

In contrast, the window of the German Bureau was shining with white neon lights, still attracting the audience. When they passed by, they saw the red arrow splayed like pliers, almost enclosing the ruins of Paris.

On June 14, nine months after France and Britain declared war on Germany, the arrows around Paris were removed and the city was photographed by the swastika. (Not on the map: A German military band plays the Hohenfriedburg March in front of Notre Dame Cathedral.)

In the first few months of the war, the climax of French propaganda was a huge map of the world, posted everywhere, depicting the Allied Powers and their colonies on the five continents in red, and Germany was painted as a small black dot. The center of Europe. The title read: "Nous vaincrons parce que nous sommes les plus forts" ("We will win because we are the strongest"). The French are now tenants in their own country. Ironically, the Maginot Line never collapsed: as a compliment to the contrary, the Germans simply bypassed it and attacked through the undefended Ardennes.

Until the fall of France, the Times was available for purchase at Calea Victoriei's newsstand at two o'clock in the afternoon every day-the same version that appeared in London that morning. Like the Orient Express, the profound influence of the times announced the epic destiny of a borderless world. When neither of them arrived in Bucharest-the "Magic Carpet" ceased operations at the end of 1939-it not only confirmed Romania's connection with Western Europe, but Western Europe itself had also ceased service.

Trapped in the Balkans: This has always been the subject of Orient Express novels, most of which were written by Westerners who associate Eastern Europe with low fog and assassinations, and thank the "a kind of canned" West sealed behind glass and steel. , As Wisna Goldsworthy said. There are also Orientals who hold this uneasy view. Those Orientals who never think of themselves as Orientals, such as my grandmother Elena, have a vision full of The West, Vienna, Paris, and London are so easy-going and civilized. These are the places where she feels most at home.

For her children Donald and Peter, these are the sources of postcards with news of their parents traveling and stamps that were previously invisible to be soaked. These places are not home, because home is where you come back, where you open your suitcases, distribute the gifts you brought back, put your clothes back in the drawers, and put the suitcases back in the cupboard. Most children are instinctively conservative: to them, no family can match. So how do you begin to explain that you might have to find a home elsewhere?

A few years ago, when I was flipping through a book of my father, the contact information of a photo fell off. They showed his child posing in front of the studio camera. He is about eight or nine years old. He looked directly at the camera, serious and fearful (I threw them away), except for the last few pictures, he seemed to be reacting beyond the picture to someone or something—his expression changed, with a suppressed giggle. , And then, as if being prompted to say it, he did. A cute little boy who escaped from something that made him look so nervous a few seconds ago.

There are about twenty shots on this paper. Two marked a small "x" with ink. I discarded two of them because Donald looked uncomfortable. They reminded me of a certain atmosphere (the sky is falling). I now see that this must be a passport photo, most likely in late June 1940, when the British Embassy in Bucharest required every British citizen in Romania to obtain transit visas from all neighboring countries to prevent possible evacuation. .

Just after the fall of France, Hitler swept across the European continent, from the Arctic Circle to Bordeaux, from the North Sea to the Vistula River. Except for the Baltic States, Spain, Switzerland, and the Balkans, the Nazis have beaten or threatened the existence of all sovereign states in Europe. Romania’s borders now face Soviet Russia and German-occupied Poland in the north and northeast, pro-German Hungary in the northwest and west, and Yugoslavia and traditionally unfriendly Bulgaria in the south. Perfect circle, surrounded.

At home, the country is fighting the undead Fascist Iron Guard and the Nazi fifth column that funded and trained it. There are also tens of thousands of Polish refugees (those who survived the winter), as well as countless peasant women and children, who lost their breadwinners during the draft and are now reduced to beggars. They also die in large numbers in winter. In Bucharest, their bodies, many of which were frozen into a ball, were collected by a trolley every morning and thrown into a public grave.

After the assassination of Călinescu and subsequent purges, many British communities were not assured by Carol that the Balkans would not collapse and Romania would maintain its status and leave. Most Americans also left, including the exciting Texas oil workers, who fired at Jerry's tank with revolvers. It is now illegal for foreigners to possess or carry weapons. Joe has a 16-caliber shotgun and he hides it, just like Robin Redgrave hides his 0.45 revolver, a shotgun, and two sports rifles (before returning to boarding school) , Roy smothered them with grease, wrapped them in a bag and hid them) Under the long, overhanging eaves of the Doftana house, they might still be there). There are other restrictions: foreigners can only move from one place to another with a special police visa; all work permits must be renewed monthly; everyone, including children, must report to the police station to proceed Identity check. The British Embassy insisted that they fill out a form stating their religious beliefs, close relatives, and who to notify in the event of death.

Nevertheless, my grandparents and the Redgrave family stayed. I don't know if Redgraves can speak German-of course, this is the language of the Slomnicki family-but by the summer of 1940, it was wise to speak German if possible. Now there is a swastika descending from the three-story building to the porch of the Athena Palace (it used to put a British flag), and its British pub is symbolically occupied by the Germans-journalists, businessmen and entourages of the huge embassy Members, most of them are spies or Gestapo.

Why not leave when they have British passports and a reserved home? Why wander, when every exit door slams shut? Unlike most of their foreign colleagues and friends, Slomnickis and Redgraves are not only based in Romania, but return to their homes in Surrey or Yorkshire at some point, where they may be persuaded to talk about them with the local Rotary Club His adventures are on the fringe of civilization; for Elena and Joe, Robin and Michelin, everything they have is in Romania, and there is always too much to lose.

On June 26, 1940, three days after France's surrender, the Soviet government issued an ultimatum: Romania must give up all the territories of Bessarabia ("looted") and northern Bukovina ("compensation") within two days. The king and his ministers were in a temporary state for 48 hours. As they said, the Soviets landed their planes in these two provinces on June 28. Romania joined and requested more time to organize the evacuation. They had a few hours, and then Soviet troops were sent to the border.

The king ordered his officers to retreat, standing tall. This is not what happened. They fled. The officers fled first, then the confused regular army and reserve personnel. Some of them ran too slowly. They had been disarmed by the enemy. There are 3.5 million civilians left—Germans, Poles, Jews, Hungarians, Ukrainians, Romanians; noble and rich men with Orbisen carpets and silver chandeliers; Jews in black robes and beards, take Holding the keys to their synagogue; the peasants wore only rotten sheepskin jackets.

Territorial revisionism, the tragic chaos of the separation of the people. The border change triggered double fugitives: Romanians, Austro-Hungarian landlords and wealthy Jews poured out from Bessarabia, while a large number of poor Romanian Jews poured in, hoping to find a refuge from the regime in Soviet Russia. It quickly became a strong anti-Semitism. The refugees who crossed the same roads and bridges were further crowded due to changes in their thinking and people turned back. But where is the border? The ultimatum is accompanied by a small map with a red pencil roughly marking the ceded territory. The thickness of this line covered seven miles of the ground, making it impossible for the Soviets to know their new boundaries. This is not a question of standing on the line, but a question of standing on the line.

Within a week, the Soviet occupation of Bissarabia and Bukovina was completed. Romania has lost 12,000 square miles and was pushed back to the frontiers of the Palace of Versailles, where the countryside is still strewn with rusty barbed wire during the First World War. In Bucharest, the national flag is at half-mast, and the songs played in cafes are ancient laments to oppression and foreign masters.

It was followed by Bulgaria, which demanded a share in the southern province of Dobruggia, which has traditionally been a one-off counter in Balkan politics. The king and his ministers succumbed, and by August 21, the Bulgarian army had assembled at the border, ready to march immediately after the signing of the final agreement. Then it's Hungary's turn (I seem to be in a hurry, telling the death of Greater Romania in a few paragraphs, but if this were a map, it would be drawn to scale). Since 1919, it has been pursuing a ruthless revisionist policy and has persisted. On September 1, Romanians learned that the northwestern half of Transylvania would be ceded to Hungary within 48 hours.

Sacred and eternal Romania: In less than two months, Romania lost nearly half of its territory and population. Its borders were pushed inward, shifting most of the Carroll line to the wrong side.

What to bring? Hannah Arendt took her mother away. They passed through the front door of a house in Germany and exited through the back door of Czechoslovakia. Freud picked up his sofa. Einstein picked up his violin. Brecht left Finland with his wife, mistress, children and 26 suitcases through a "little door" high in Lapland. Alma Mahler Werfel fled across the Pyrenees from France to Spain with 17 pieces of luggage. She insists that all this is important because the suitcase contains the sheet music of Gustav Mahler, her late husband, and the manuscript of Bruckner's third symphony. There is also cash and a lot of jewellery she has collected, although I suspect she mentioned it to the smugglers who took her across the mountains. She finally succeeded in bringing all of this-and herself, as it was in the past-to the United States.

Béla Zsolt, who fled Budapest for Paris the day before the war broke out, took nine suitcases containing "all my property, my clothes and my wife’s clothes, and our lives Collected all the necessities and small luxuries: objects, fetishes". A wrong decision: the obsession with suitcases took them in the wrong direction. During the war, nine suitcases became backpacks, backpacks became shoe boxes, and shoe boxes became a box of biscuits given to him by an acquaintance. After eating the biscuits, Zolt has no luggage.

Marcel Duchamp is carrying his Boîte-en-valise, a suitcase in a suitcase containing miniature reproductions of 69 of his works, including the infamous urinal. Disguised as a cheese merchant, Duchamp carried a large suitcase containing his portable museum materials, and took three trips to the Nazi checkpoint between Paris and Surrey-sur-Mer. Once everything was transported to the Mediterranean coast ("My life's work is packed in a suitcase"), he transported it and himself to New York.

After the fall of Paris, David and Wallis Windsor arrived in neutral Portugal with as many things as they could. They immediately turned their attention to letting the occupying Germans transfer the rest to them. They were happy to have the obligation. From specific inventory to napkins-who can handle inventory better than the Nazis? -The officers of the Third Reich loaded the trucks and sent them to Lisbon.

King Carol will soon join his Windsor cousin’s official unemployment ranks and cannot rely on the cooperation of the Third Reich or its lackeys in Romania. On the night of September 5, 1940, the chief running dog was the professional general Ion Antonescu, who forced the king to abdicate and give way to the 18-year-old Michael. The coup made Carol Hohenzollern the only European monarch to lose his throne twice to his son. "King Carol is back again" was the headline news of The Times.

Before dawn the next day, he took his Pompadour, Mrs. Lupescu, their pets and servants and left by train. The nine carriages were filled with treasures, including his priceless stamp collection. Their departure was not immediately noticed, and the chaser of the Iron Guard almost failed to stop when the train crossed the border into Temesvár, Hungary, who was only Timişoara a week ago. They swept the train with machine guns, but the driver speeded up and escaped (according to one version, Carol took refuge in the bathtub; another version believed that he jumped on Lupescu to protect her). This blinded train passed through Yugoslavia (Carol’s nephew King Peter will soon follow him in exile) and arrived in Lugano on September 8. In the end, Carol and Lupescu arrived in Portugal with all their spoils intact.

This is a Balkan prayer, asking God to protect us from glory, important visitors and major events. Let us stay away from history: we choose days of normal, uninterrupted small repetitive gestures, like a train going around in a department store window.

Normality left the Slomnicki family in stages. After Anschluss, the Austrian nanny and maid were sent back to the empire. After Romania lost a large area of ​​Hungary, the Hungarian chef was also lost. Elena, who was unable to cook eggs or iron napkins, was left in the hands of Romanian servants. They were used to strange odds. , Too close, who can say that they are not informants of the Iron Guard? The children's nanny, Missie Weldon, had returned to England before the last land route was closed, and arrived in time for the Blitz. Joe was out for several days at a time, mainly at the Steaua Romana headquarters in Ploiesti. This allowed Elena and the children to go to the local police station for an identity check. They sat on the hard chairs in the corridor for a few hours while the police pretended to be busy with other things; they set up checkpoints in the town and wanted The wild-eyed Steel Guardian who beat someone was handed over to herself; she was alone amid sudden power outages, phone crashes, and random gunshots at night.

The new normal. Maybe once it happens, you can get used to anything. For Elena and Joe, as well as the few British nationals who stayed in Romania, what happened has happened so long that it is like an insignificant thing, a negative space waiting to be filled.

In the summer of 1939-when the Redgrave and Slomnik families and most of the rest of Europe were evading the truth-British intelligence agents were quietly dispatched to Romania on the task of destroying the country's oil infrastructure . Since Hitler was interested in Romania’s oil-if he launched a campaign against the Soviet Union, 6 million tons a year would come in handy-followed by Britain, and France wanted to prevent him from acquiring it before it fell.

The aim is to destroy or destroy oil wells, pumping stations and refineries, and block the supply routes to Germany via rail or along the Danube. The plan was to blow up the cliffs of the Iron Gate, where the Danube narrowed and passed through the Carpathian Mountains in a series of turbulent rapids, whirlpools, and submerged rocks. As Kim Philby calmly commented, “I saw the iron gates and was impressed by the guts of those colleagues who said'blow them up', as if it were a question of destroying the pivot of the gates of the Regent Canal.' As Philby predicted, the operation was a tragic failure, and the protagonist was immediately deported.

What's worse is yet to come. Soon after the fall of Paris in June 1940, the Germans intercepted a train carrying the French General Staff as it was heading from Bordeaux to Spain. There are a large number of intelligence documents on board, clearly showing the scope of the Allied sabotage network in the Ploiesti oil field-Hitler claimed that this proves that London and Paris intend to "burn the Balkans." Fifty British and French engineers and their families were quickly expelled, including Pierre Ango, who was identified in the captured documents as a member of the coordinating "General Staff" of the Deuxième Bureau (equivalent to MI6) , The bureau worked with the British. intelligence.

Angot is Steaua Romana's technical director and works closely with his chief geologist Joe Slomnicki. Joe has been under surveillance by German intelligence agents and may have also been harassed by the Iron Guard, but they let him stay in the country. There are two explanations I can think of: one is that the German needs his knowledge of oil reserves; two, he participated in a sabotage conspiracy, but it has not yet been exposed. Either way, he is a popular target for the German Sicherheitsdienst (security department), now firmly rooted in Romania.

The entire Ploiesti oil area is rapidly being militarized by German "technical advisers", with uniformed SSs everywhere. Surprisingly, considering the risks, Robin Redgrave still has a 12mm revolver in his home. After being spotted by the local police, he paid bribes to get out of the predicament, and immediately closed the house in Dorftana-carefully hiding the tourist manual-and drove with Michelin and their two daughters to a place near the British Embassy. apartment. Bucharest. Everyone took precautions. John Tracy, the owner of an oil well supplier, and his wife Esther moved into the bedroom after incendiary bombs were thrown from their windows, with a revolver full of bullets on the bedside table. Percy Clarke stayed in a room at the Athena Palace, erroneously thinking that he was safer in sight. Slomnickis still stays in Campina, maybe they believe that the family will have some protection by their side: Elena’s widow moved into the top floor of their house, nearby Elena’s siblings and their spouses, descendants and in-laws , They are all Romanian nationals.

Did Joe and Robin spend the entire August 1939 in Constanta, as Roy remembered? Or did they slip back to Ploiesti to meet secretly with the special operations executive's agents, who was created by Churchill in July 1940 to "ignite Europe"? According to a SOE agent, Geoffrey Household, the sabotage plan was developed in collaboration with a group of people from the oil field: "They are the salt of the earth," Household recalled, "Keen, bold, clever and refused to be beaten. Any technical issues. . All the necessary work is done by them. We just coordinate it.

Looking through the visitor book of the Redgraves, I found the signatures of several state-owned enterprise officials including Household, as well as the signatures of many oil workers related to these plots: Jock Anderson, John Treacy, Reginald Young, Charles Brasier, Alexander Miller, Percy Clark. Everyone visited Doftana at or about the same time. The only missing signature is that of Joe Slomnicki.

The first person to be taken away was Jock Anderson, who disappeared from Ploiesti on September 24. The next night, John and Esther Treacy disappeared. Refinery engineer Reginald Young, Romano Americana's Charles Brasier, and Unirea's drilling supervisor Mr. E. Bowden also disappeared. Their whereabouts remained a mystery for 48 hours, after which they were sent to the Siguranţa (National Security Agency) headquarters in Bucharest, where the British consul was notified. His request for immediate access to prisoners who are now officially accused of being part of the spy network was rejected: the "interrogations" that began in some humble Iron Guard barracks have not yet been "completed."

A week later, the consul was finally allowed to visit the detainees, and he only had a few minutes. All of them are affected by "very irregular procedures" and "three-level methods": they can hardly stand normally (their feet are blown with electric lights) or use their arms, after they are suspended, their arms They were twisted out of their sockets and their elbows were tied to a wall behind them. They had nothing to eat and drink, so they could only speak in a low voice. Esther Treacy was kept alone in a three-foot by three-foot cell and was whipped with a pistol and beaten in the face several times. Her 56-year-old husband John suffered such severe torture that he needed several operations later. It was soon discovered that the arrest and interrogation were carried out by the Iron Guard under the supervision of the Gestapo.

In London, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs decided to compile a list of “appropriate measures of retaliation for Romanians arrested in the country”, but MI5 was unable to provide any names because their Romanian card index was destroyed in the blitz. New Scotland Yard helped provide a list of 11 candidates, but cautioned that No. 1 and No. 11 were inappropriate, because they had fought with the Romanian army when Romania “on our side in the last war”; The two left the country, and the three seemed to be anti-Nazis. The remaining numbers are 3, 5, 8, and 10. All these people "should be eliminated immediately because their names are obviously Jewish." Of course, this is one of the only examples in history where sentences that combine the words "elimination" and "Jews" together indicate good news.

At the same time, Alexander Miller, the administrator of the Astra Romana refinery, was taken away by the company's sports club in Snagov near Bucharest. He was taken to his office, then to his apartment, and finally to Sigranţa, at which time his face had been cut several times by the knife. Subsequently, he was subjected to further torture. A few days later, when an embassy official managed to enter, Miller looked "very depressed." The same was true for Percy Clark. His kidnappers, three men with revolvers, broke into his room at the Athena Palace, where they thoroughly inspected the 60-year-old and ransacked his room. Then led him through the lobby and left the hotel. Like everyone else, he was taken to a black hole maintained by the Iron Guard, where he "starved, beaten, and beaten, his arms and wrists were cruelly twisted, almost nothing usefulness".

If my now nine-year-old father starts a new school year at Campina’s school, then it must be time to take him out. If the wife can be kidnapped and whipped with a pistol, what can the children say next? British nationals are in a very dangerous situation. They have formed a team with members contacting each other every four hours to prevent a long period of time between the disappearance of a person and the start of the consular investigation. Joe called Elena; Elena called Micheline Redgrave; Michelin called Robin; Robin called the designated contact person of the embassy, ​​etc., day and night, normal The time was delayed, Campina's house returned with the metal echo of the phone, and the other side of the wall murmured, Donald and Peter left their own equipment in many unexplainable things.

"We now seem to have reached the point where the Romanian government may arrest a British subject every day," the embassy warned the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. FO agreed and warned that "Steaua Romana's British manager M. Galpin seems likely to be the next victim." Joe’s boss, Michael Galpin, immediately obtained a small position in the embassy, ​​bringing protection of his diplomatic status. British authorities can protest the brutal treatment of arrested oil workers, but as they know, every one of them (except Percy Clarke) has been charged with guilt.

John Treacy is a key figure in SOE, which is why he was singled out by his torturers, who kept working on him in order to force him to reveal the identity of the people who worked under him. He recruited his fellow oil workers to participate in the conspiracy, including Galpin; he had directed their activities at the marshalling station and train station between Ploieşti and Brasov—cutting the brake coupling, filling the tank with sulfuric acid and putting the abrasive Into the engine. He later detailed the torture he was subjected to in a report submitted to SOE. He was handcuffed and shackled, the soles of his feet were beaten, the ribs were kicked, and he was lifted off the ground many times, falling "as a heavy object" on his back so that the heaviest of his tormentors could be on his chest Walk, then drag to a chair, and hit him in the face when they "read out the names of every British and American in Prahova area [thinking] to know if I know them, and who else works with me." ". Unsurprisingly, 14 hours later, he collapsed: he confessed his role in the sabotage, and admitted that Charles Brasil “tampered with some tanks” and Reginald Young “also did some Work", both of them were dragged out from their cells into the interrogation room, where they were "severely punched and kicked" in front of Treacy.

Britain’s attempt to deny Hitler’s Romanian black gold was a shameful failure. When the German army set up their Bockwurst and beer stalls in Ploieşti, SOE agents were desperately removing unused explosives, most of which were thrown into the lake. With the retreat of SOE, its "Salt of the Earth" collaborators were "naked"—exposed intelligence jargon, no backup—and dragged an ignited fuse of evidence to directly lead to a sabotage conspiracy: documents, photos, a large number of pipes Bombs, switches and other materials seized by the Romanian police from their houses and offices. Awaiting them is a military court, the result of which promised to stay in the prison camp for a long time.

As for Joe's role in all of this, every bit of information I found is evidence that other information is missing. Even if I spend my whole life investigating the facts, they still won't tell me the whole truth. If my grandfather was indeed a saboteur, what would I do? Does this make him important, not just an ordinary person who does his best to keep his head down and save his future-family, home, life holding a pickaxe on the majestic slopes of the Carpathian Mountains?

Slowly, vaguely, the outline of the memory began to form. A newspaper that turns brown with age is carefully unfolding in someone's palm. WHO? Where are we? A room with windows, with an open door in front, a wall outside the door, and a long diagonal crack in the plaster on the wall. My father and my brother Alexander are here, but this is not our house. Someone is handing scraps to my father. They are talking about it, I don't know what it is talking about. Does it have anything to do with his father? A bad thing. I was upset. Someone was holding a glass of white wine, but when it was turned over, the wine did not fall out.

Perhaps this is not a memory at all, but the precipitation of dreams. I can’t get rid of it and spend a few hours flipping through all the things I have accumulated—books, articles, photos, letters, emails—but nothing has to do with the image of this stubborn little newspaper clipping. I called my uncle Peter.

"Do you think your father might have been involved in the destruction of the oil field?"

'I have no idea. If it is, he will definitely not tell me. What's the point? I am only six years old. When I was growing up, he didn't talk about war at all.

"Do you remember the newspaper clippings that might mention him?"

'No, I do not know. Maybe you will find it in a suitcase?

"Can I come here this weekend?"

"Of course," he replied. "We are very happy to meet you."

The suitcase has changed since I first saw it. After having lunch at Peter's house, I asked him if he could take a look. In a small washroom next to the kitchen, he used a long hook to pull down the folding ladder from the hatch. He slid part of the ladder down and climbed onto the thin treads. I follow. The attic is smaller than I thought. He explained that there are other attic spaces in the house, but this is where the suitcase is. I looked around and noticed a dented silver teapot, a guitar case, and a cardboard box full of stuffing.

The attic exudes a distinct, fixed smell. I couldn't see the suitcase, even though Peter pointed at it, because it was completely different from the one in my memory. He noticed my confusion. "It's definitely this," he said, dragging it out of the eaves defensively. I stepped forward to take a look. This suitcase is brown synthetic leather with two long, ugly forks that look like rusty surgical instruments, leading to buttons. On one side is a triangular sticker with my father’s name written on it, Dr. Sanders’ name in his hand, and the address of the Wiltshire house he bought in the mid-1970s, although this does not help me determine The date of the suitcase-before that, he could have had it for many years. There is a small British Airways sticker next to the handle.

I am now in a state of complete sensory swing, like a station is moving instead of a train. This is the wrong suitcase.

"Is it possible," I asked Peter, "Did you pour the contents of the original suitcase into this suitcase?"

"No, I don't remember doing this," he replied. "Then why is there another Donald's suitcase in the house?"

I described the suitcase I remember: warped wooden pillars, chalk-colored, weather-spotted, probably made of pressed cardboard, round latches, bigger.

"Well, I think we have a small suitcase like that, but I haven't seen it in many years. But why should I take the things here from another suitcase and put them in this suitcase? It doesn't make sense. A hint of suspicion has crept into Peter's voice—my confusion has spread to him—and I let it disappear.

How can I remember suitcases in such a different way? Did I completely invent this kind of visual memory, or did I switch to this suitcase with another completely unrelated suitcase? Are there two suitcases? Is it even important? In Günter Grass's memoir "Peeling the Onion", a key detail of the hotel bedroom where he helped the bride and groom complete the union was deliberately misremembered: "On the wall at the head of the marriage bed There is an oil painting hanging, depicting two beautiful swans, a couple or the bells of a stag. Use your imagination, he said, this is as real as the facts.

"Bending down to loosen the button, Peter said, "Should we open it?" "I said no, and I took a step back, but he had already lifted the lid. It was as if he had opened a coffin. I saw a layer of folders and the edges of some files overflowing from it. On the cover of the top folder, The only folder that is completely visible, my father wrote "TO KEEP" in capital letters in the morgue. Peter reached out to take it out, but I checked my watch carefully and told him that I don’t have time tonight. To go out for dinner, you know that there is road work on the highway after High Wycombe — or something like that — it’s much easier than saying that I feel like I’ve fallen into a rabbit hole. I’m completely lost because if I The memory of the suitcase is wrong, so is everything else I remember right? Peter looked disappointed and closed the suitcase reluctantly. We fell down the ladder and he used his 86-year-old arm effortlessly Pull it back, and then closed the hatch with the hook. "Damn it," he said, "I turned on the light. "The ladder came down again, and he shook it off with his 86-year-old leg. The suitcase was there, in the dark like me.

When I got home, I called my brother Hugo and asked him how he remembered the suitcase. "What suitcase?" he said. My heart sank.

"After the memorial service of the Redgrave family, the one you gave to me in the parking lot in the downpour. We had to put it in my car.

"Well, yes, I vaguely remember doing that, but I don't know what it was like."

"Try it," I said angrily. (Am I the only one who cares about this suitcase?)

"Uh, shabby, I think." Pause. 'old. ' pause. "Dark color?" Then, calm down to the point of saneness: "Is this a book for dead father?"

I called my mother. "Oh, my goodness, I just remember it was a suitcase. It's rather tattered. It's heavy, isn't it?

'Yes. '

Once again, I left with a frustrating sense of futility.

On the morning of Saturday, October 12, 1940, 50 Messerschmitt bombers and 13 Henkel bombers roared in formation over Bucharest. In the Palace of Athena, each room on the second and third floors was evacuated urgently by approximately 80 Wehrmacht officers, most of whom were wearing first-class iron crosses and under red lacquer collars. This marked the de facto occupation of Romania, a bloodless victory that included 20,000 German troops arriving by road, rail, and the Danube, bringing with them mobile units, tanks, anti-aircraft turrets, anti-tank guns, and aviation units. Both sides described the operation as military cooperation: they were German "instructors", "experts", and technicians, and their mission was to defend the oil fields and train and reorganize the Romanian army.

It is a 5-minute walk from the Athena Palace to the British Embassy in Strada Jules Michelet, where they are sending documents into the incinerator. By Monday, everyone was calling, trying to inform the last remaining British of the evacuation plan: they will rent a boat from Constanta the next night to leave Romanian territory; anyone driving there should understand , Most of the roads are controlled by “military elements”; if possible, travelling by train from Bucharest in droves is a more sensible choice; after reports of arrests at the border, all other alternative routes for exit are Very unwise; in the end, unfortunately, the luggage allowance is one suitcase per passenger.

I don't know what Donald put in his suitcase, except for a few stamp albums. Peter told me that he has no memory of the last few hours at home, but if he can choose, he will ask to bring his favorite toy: his heroic suit-"a huge round wooden board filled with drills Hole, I drew a pattern with multicolored marbles on it"-and a clockwork-driven tank, when it rolled forward, sparks from the end of the barrel ("Give a boy on the eve of World War II one's gift!"). I think Elena took her jewelry, including the gold bracelet she gave her as a barter when she fled the German attack in 1916. What else? They must have made a list. Cash (pound sterling, not leu, it has depreciated everywhere on the streets of Bucharest). Winter clothes. underwear. shoe. cosmetic. drug. Documents that have been carefully assembled: birth certificates, naturalization certificates, employment details, passports with transit visas for countries that are currently impassable or non-existent.

Joe took his camera. Although different from what he and Elena expected when they traveled freely during their 15 years of marriage, he and Elena were free to go to England, Greece, the Netherlands, Belgium, France, Austria, Switzerland, Turkey and Syria's journey is not hindered by the low-level politics of nationalism. Now, the entire European continent is a huge trap, an area of ​​diminishing possibilities, and the direction of travel depends on the escape hatch that is still open.

Joe and Elena, Donald and Peter arrived in Constanta on the evening of Tuesday, October 15, 1940, each with a suitcase and wearing as many clothes as possible. About a hundred other British nationals gathered on the pier, but there was no trace of the Redgrave family. Without them, under the cold gaze of the Romanian police and German soldiers wearing helmets, Slomniks followed their passengers up the muddy treads of the gangway.

Nothing, because weeping mooring ropes were dragged into the boat, linking this place to the vacation on the white sand beach last summer, high-backed wicker sun loungers with patterns on your thighs, umbrellas that open picnic baskets The villa features airy rooms and a minaret overlooking Ovid Island. There is no indication that when the ship passed through the newly laid minefield protecting the harbor, the brightly-lit riverboat transported tourists along the Danube to Belgrade, Budapest, Vienna, the heart of Europe-but that was upstream, and this The ship is heading in the wrong direction. When it sneaked out of the open waters of the Black Sea from the harbor, there was only darkness and fear, and the German submarine wandered in its depths. As soon as the ship reached the top of the wave, it began to roll. Elena became very ill immediately.

The third and final part of "Suitcase" will be released in the next issue.

Editor London Review of Books, 28 Little Russell Street London, WC1A 2HN letter@lrb.co.uk Please provide your name, address and phone number.

Frances Stonor Saunders (Frances Stonor Saunders) wrote that in September 1940, King Carol of Romania “crossed the border into Hungary at Temesvár, and here was Timișoara a week ago” (LRB, August 13) . In fact, as it is now, my mother's hometown is still Timișoara. Hitler only awarded Banat in the north to Hungary, and the towns there did indeed change their names from Romanian to Hungarian. My own Arad is still Romanian, which is lucky for me, because genocide is systematic among Hungarians.

Edward Luttwak Chevy Chase, Maryland

The Editor London Review of Books 28 Little Russell Street London, WC1A 2HN letter@lrb.co.uk Please provide name, address and phone number

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