The arrival of 1945 was celebrated in the Soviet Union as the beginning of the end of a long and devastating war. The Red Army was completing preparations for a major offensive that would bring its units into the heart of Germany, a few dozen miles from Berlin, and everyone believed that the war would end with the capture of the capital. On New Year’s Day one of the leading newspapers, Izvestiia (News), published a front-page cartoon showing Hitler, Himmler, and Goebbels celebrating the New Year in Hitler’s bunker with a bottle of Valerian drops—which are supposed to help with insomnia—at the head of the table. Under the table were Hitler’s remaining allies, including Mussolini. The accompanying verse read: “The inescapable judgment / Hangs over that criminal rabble / The enemies tremble before the New Year / It will put an end to them in good time!”1 Unlike Hitler and his allies, the Big Three had good reason to look forward with optimism.
But there were clouds on the horizon as well, most notably the future of Poland. Stalin was ready to recognize his Lublin Poles as the only legitimate government of the country. Roosevelt asked him to postpone the recognition; Stalin refused. On January 1, 1945, he sent Roosevelt a note that, along with the New Year’s greetings of “health and success,” conveyed Stalin’s regret that he had failed to convince Roosevelt of the soundness of the Soviet position on the Polish question. Most disingenuously, Stalin told Roosevelt that he could not postpone recognition because the matter was out of his hands: the Supreme Soviet has already assured the Lublin Poles of their recognition. On the same day, Churchill publicly refused to extend recognition to the Lublin Poles. He also approached Roosevelt, suggesting a separate meeting on Malta prior to the forthcoming Big Three conference in Yalta. Churchill believed that they had to coordinate their positions before facing Stalin.2
The Grand Alliance found that the holiday season brought both joy and aggravation. The end of war was in sight, but the existing cracks in their relations deepened, indicating problems ahead. Nowhere was discord among the Allies more pronounced in the first days and weeks of 1945 than at Poltava, where their cooperation was ostensibly closest.
The Americans on the base were in a celebratory mood on New Year’s Eve. The city of Poltava was declared off limits to the GIs in order to prevent possible drunken brawls with Red Army soldiers and locals, but the Soviets allowed local women to come to the New Year’s dance at the base. “They had a big celebration at the post last night, and I hated to miss it,” wrote Franklyn Holzman in a letter home. “Fellows were even allowed to invite girls to the post to our club.”
Sergeant Holzman was on duty on New Year’s Eve. Most of the American personnel got two days off, but he was one of the skeleton crew who worked through the night. Unable to take part in the dance, Holzman and two of his friends visited their female acquaintances in Poltava on New Year’s Day. They brought along an impressive assortment of drinks: four bottles of champagne, a bottle of cognac, and a bottle of port along with some food. The girls roasted chicken and prepared potatoes and cabbage. With food ready, the GIs opened a bottle of champagne right away. It was Holzman’s first drinking party in Ukraine, and as he wrote later to his parents, he had been “feeling high as a kite.”3
Overall, Holzman was quite satisfied with his time in Poltava. His Russian, which he had begun to learn in Myrhorod, had improved significantly, as had his chances to meet local women. In Myrhorod, Holzman had two girlfriends. One of them, a high-school student named Nina Mozhaeva, was his platonic love; he had a real affair with the other, an older woman. After his transfer to Poltava, Holzman found yet another girlfriend and had plenty of opportunity to spend time with her. On some occasions, he remembered later, almost half the personnel did not sleep at the base, staying with their girlfriends in Poltava. Holzman remained oblivious to Soviet harassment of women dating the GIs. His girlfriend, Nina Afanasieva, was detained and interrogated by the secret police two months later, on March 12, 1945. They forced her to sign two documents, the first swearing her to secrecy about the detention, the second obliging her to break off relations with Holzman.4
The secret police would probably have confronted Afanasieva sooner and ruined the romance had Holzman not been on duty on New Year’s Eve and thus unable to invite her to the dance at the club. “Following New Year’s Holidays a story was widely circulated around the camp to the effect that some four Russian girls who had visited the American Enlisted Men’s Club over the New Year Holiday were detained in town by the Russian Secret Police for questioning,” reported George Fischer in his capacity as Hampton’s adjutant. “The girls were reported to have been asked during the interrogation why they associated with the Americans instead of their own people.”5
This once again put to the test Soviet–American relations at Poltava. Attacks on women dating Americans, which as noted had spiked in the summer of 1944, had become quite rare by the end of the year, partly because there were fewer Americans around, and partly because the cold weather did not encourage the lovebirds to stroll along the streets and alleys of city parks. They met instead at the women’s homes, as did Holzman, or at the American premises, where the US personnel, with Soviet assistance, had built two clubs—one for officers, the other for enlisted men—and a theater. The Americans would invite their girlfriends to visit, and that raised the contentious question of access to the base.
The Soviets, who controlled that access, were in a position to decide whom to admit. They introduced a pass system, limiting the number of Soviets with permanent passes to eight—mainly liaison officers and interpreters. Everyone else had to apply for a pass. American officers and GIs had to submit a request for their guest’s visit to the base forty-eight hours in advance. The guest’s full name, home address, and purpose of visit were to be recorded on the form. The Soviets, especially SMERSH and the Poltava secret police, needed time to study the applications and, as the Soviet officer responsible for issuing passes, Lieutenant Colonel Arsenii Bondarenko, once told Fischer, to “weed out… undesirables who had no business looking around American installations.”6
The new rules were introduced in mid-December, ahead of the Christmas and New Year holidays. To avoid possible conflicts between American and Soviet servicemen, Colonel Hampton, in consultation with the Soviet commanders, declared Poltava off limits to American servicemen on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Thus contacts between GIs and their girlfriends were allowed only at the American base, and the women had to apply for a pass, which caused panic among Ukrainian women dating Americans. They knew that their names and addresses would end up on secret-police lists and that they would be accused of association with foreigners. Some American boyfriends refused to request passes for their girlfriends; others decided to take the risk. Quite a few women from Poltava attended both the Christmas and the New Year’s dances at the American base.
Very soon, the Americans began to hear from their girlfriends about the consequences of attending the dances. George Fischer wrote in his report that rumors about Soviet secret-police interrogations of women who had come to the base remained unconfirmed, but an American officer undertook his own investigation into the matter. William Kaluta, a construction engineer at the base and its future historian, had a good knowledge of Russian and often served as an intermediary in dealings between his English-speaking colleagues and Soviet officials. He had plenty of opportunity to see how intrusive Soviet surveillance could be and how brutal the secret-police attempts to break up relationships between Americans and locals, especially women.
Like Fischer, Kaluta had been a Sovietophile when he came to Poltava in May 1944. Also like Fischer, he came from a family that had deep roots in that part of Europe and proud of its leftist leanings. They came to the United States immediately before World War I from the Pinsk region on the border between Ukraine and Belarus. Kaluta senior was probably active in the workers’ movement in the Russian Empire and, as an immigrant, became a labor activist in New York. He served as chair of a workers’ club and member of the editorial board of the pro-Soviet newspaper Russkii golos (Russian Voice).7
SMERSH informants reported that at a dinner with Red Army officers in July 1944, Kaluta, whom they identified as a Ukrainian but called “Vasilii,” using the Russian form of his first name, told those around the table: “If my father in America knew that his son is now in Russia, partaking of a festive dinner at table with Russian officers, he would weep tears of joy. After the war I will certainly arrange a visit to Russia for my father and sister, sparing no effort to get passports for them.” The SMERSH agents described Kaluta as very friendly and happy to socialize with the Soviets. He played the accordion, often sang Russian and Ukrainian songs, and was popular with the Red Army officers. Some of his songs caused concern among his SMERSH minders, however. One of them allegedly included the words, “The Soviet land is free, but one sees no freedom in it.” From their perspective Kaluta’s acceptance of the Soviet regime seemed partial at best.8
Kaluta’s favorable attitude toward the Soviets began to change in late 1944 and early 1945, when fellow servicemen asked him to help their girlfriends in their dealings with the Poltava local branch of the NKGB. When Kaluta asked secret-police officials why the women were arrested, interrogated, and had had their passports confiscated, the answer he got was pretty standard by that time: that the women were prostitutes. The Soviets were doing the Americans a favor by protecting them from venereal disease. After talking to the women involved, Kaluta learned that upon being arrested they were usually asked why they were dating Americans. The women would then be ordered to spy on their American friends and collect as much information as possible on what they did and said. The secret police would make them sign forms pledging to remain silent about what had happened to them at the police station, subject to legal penalty.
The women were careful not to refuse directly, Kaluta noted, but pointed out that there was little going on between them and their lovers except sex. The only English they knew was “love me” and “kiss me,” while their Americans friends spoke little Russian. Kaluta later wrote that the GIs’ language skills were limited to “bedroom Russian.” The NKGB officers seemed to have a solution to that problem. After a month they would order the girlfriends to dump their lovers and date other Americans, hoping those would be able to speak Russian or Ukrainian and be of more use to the intelligence services. Some did, while others refused. When Kaluta asked those women who continued to date their American boyfriends despite the orders from NKGB why they did so, he learned that they seemed resigned to their fate and psychologically ready to go to prison if necessary. Their hope was that the American servicemen and their commanders could intervene successfully on their behalf.9
The SMERSH and Poltava secret police stepped up their efforts to recruit women who dated Americans, with varying success. In February 1945 the Poltava division of the NKGB reported that it had recruited one informer among the women who attended the Christmas party at the American base, and another who had attended the New Year’s party there. The first of these they convinced to cooperate was a seventeen-year-old schoolgirl named Irina Roginskaia. She had been invited to the Christmas party by a chaplain, Major Clarence Strippy, who was in charge of organizing it. Roginskaia was already on the list of Ukrainian women dating Americans and confirmed that she had first become acquainted with an American serviceman in June 1944. In fact, she had a couple of meetings with Lieutenant Colonel William Jackson, who was in charge of the medical services at the bases. Since the secret police had no other compromising information on Roginskaia, they decided to recruit her and put on their agent list under the code-name “Mikhailova.”
The secret police were interested in information not only about the Americans but also about the Soviet women who dated them and Roginskaia fit the bill, as she had extensive contacts in both groups. Faina Ageeva, a few years older than Roginskaia, dated the American sergeant Ray Mongjow and was invited by him to attend the New Year’s party. She was recruited under the code-name “Matsulevich.” The secret-police report indicated that both women were willing to collaborate. They would probably have told a very different story about their recruitment had they been asked by an independent party. As far as they were concerned, their future and perhaps their freedom were on the line once they were spotted dating Americans.10
Kaluta had another brush with the Soviet security services in early February 1945, when he and Major Kowal negotiated with Soviet officers about inviting female students at the Poltava medical institute to a party and dance at the American base. The two American officers promised to drive the women home after the party. The Soviets offered to issue passes but refused to contact the institute. Kaluta and Kowal took the matter into their own hands, drove to Poltava, where they met a female student whom they knew socially, and asked her to invite up to twelve of her friends to attend the dance. She promised to do so but warned that many of her girlfriends were reluctant to provide their names and addresses to Soviet officials. Still, they put together a list, submitted it to the Soviet authorities, and got ready to celebrate. The Soviets issued the passes, and everyone was looking forward to the party.11
However, when Major Kowal drove to Poltava on the afternoon of February 3 to collect the girls and bring them to the base, he was in for a surprise. At the home of one of the girls, whom Kaluta called “Valia” in his account, Kowal found both Valia and her mother crying. They had just received a visit from Captain Maksimov. Most likely it was the same Maksimov who served as the base’s chief liaison officer and was among the first officers on the base to have been recruited by SMERSH as an agent under the code-name Markov. Doing his masters’ bidding, Maksimov told Valia that she should refuse to go to the dance, pretending to be busy with exams. She also should decline any future invitations. If she ever told the Americans about his visit and instructions, she would be arrested and sent to Siberia. The last words terrified Valia’s mother, who, according to a later report, was “in a frenzy during Major Kowal’s visit.”
Now that plans for the party at the base had been ruined, a number of American airmen organized a separate small party at Valia’s place that was attended by a few of her friends. Kowal soon learned that other women had received similar visits and the Americans, upset by the cancellation of the original plans, protested. Major Zorin of the Poltava base SMERSH department denied responsibility for what had happened. According to his report, the women had been persuaded not to attend the dance by agents of the Poltava department of state security (NKGB). The Poltava security officers simply ordered the director of the medical school to prohibit her students from attending the dance. They now wanted General Kovalev, the new Soviet commander of the Poltava base, to react to the American protest, but he refused, wishing to maintain working relations with the Americans.12
Stepan Kovalev, a native of the Poltava region who had served as General Perminov’s deputy during the summer months and now assumed the command of the base with the rank major general, did not mind attending American parties. A Valentine Day’s party at the US base was scheduled for February 14 and Kovalev was looking forward to it.
According to his later report, Kovalev noted that the Americans turned the reception into a costume party. Lieutenant Kaluta was dressed as a German, sporting a Hitler-like hairstyle and moustache and shouting “Heil!” Others responded to him accordingly. Major Wiseheart marched with Kaluta, showing how the Germans were fleeing the Allies. The American nurses were dressed in costumes modeled on the clothing of ordinary Russian women. Pilots who had arrived from Poland a few days earlier showed up in female attire, wearing bathing suits and lipstick. Everyone was drinking except Major Kowal, Captain Nicholson, and the duty officer, who were maintaining order.
Kovalev ended his report on the party with a statement that was perhaps unsurprising from a communist zealot dedicated to the conservative values of Stalin’s USSR. “In general, that party, like some other festivities, took place in disorderly fashion, spontaneously, with everyone doing as he pleased. Uninhibited by the presence of women, they allowed themselves the most vulgar actions, thereby manifesting the shortcomings and even the absence of elementary rules of culture in the behavior of American officers at their officers’ parties, even in the presence of Russian officers and Russian women.”
For unknown reasons, Kovalev filed his report two weeks after the event, on March 1. He may have been forced to do that because rumors about his participation in the party reached his superiors. Although Kovalev presented his report by way of educating and entertaining his superiors about American customs, the SMERSH officers found fault with his conduct at the party. “Instead of immediately leaving the vulgar orgy described above, and then making an official representation to the Americans, Kovalev, together with his wife and other Red Army officers, who were also present with their wives, remained witnesses of the scandalous behavior that was going on,” wrote a high-ranking SMERSH official in Moscow.13
Soviet interference with the American parties at Poltava leaves little doubt that SMERSH and security officers like Major Zorin were acquiring more and more power at the base, sidelining military commanders like Kovalev. Many Americans knew that they were under surveillance, and that knowledge, coupled with frustration gathering over the previous weeks and months, contributed to their growing desire to have as little as possible to do with the Soviets.
In February, Zorin filed a report decrying the deterioration of Soviet-American relations at the base and citing numerous examples to show that the Americans were limiting Soviet officers’ access to their base and were under orders not to socialize too much with the Soviets or tell them anything.
The SMERSH officers blamed the American change of attitude not on their own actions, but on the anti-Soviet views of the American commanders. “Changes of attitude on the part of the American command,” wrote Zorin, “are to be explained by the hostility of the remaining leadership to the Soviet Union.” The report quoted no less a figure than Colonel Hampton, who had allegedly told one of SMERSH’s informers: “You are trying to impose your Marxism everywhere, but it’s already out of date for America. We have people who refuted Marx long ago.”
Zorin also cited an episode in which Hampton took off from the Poltava airfield in a Douglas aircraft even though General Kovalev had refused to clear the flight, as he was waiting for a go-ahead from Moscow. Hampton refused to wait. He had just returned from the Saki airport in the Crimea, where he was making preparations for the arrival of the Big Three for the Yalta Conference, and had to fly back to continue his work. Fed up with Soviet delays and obstructionism, he was in no mood to tolerate them any longer.14 The fraying of the Grand Alliance continued apace.