Author's notes:
'Lili Marlene' - Surely the favourite song of soldiers during World War II, Lili Marlene became the unofficial anthem of the foot soldiers of both forces in the war. Original German lyrics from a poem The Song of a Young Sentry by World War I German soldier, Hans Leip (1893-1983), who wrote these verses before going to the Russian front in 1915, combining the name of his girlfriend, Lili (the daughter of a grocer), with that of a friend's girlfriend or by a wave given to Leip, while he was on sentry duty, by a young nurse named "Marleen" as she disappeared into the evening fog. His poem was later published in a collection of his poetry in 1937. The poems caught the attention of Norbert Schultze (born 1911 in Braunschweig, died 17.10.2002), who set this poem to music in 1938. I have used Tommy Connor's version, which is technically a later translation, but I have shamelessly twisted history and used some literary license to have it sung in Stalingrad in April 1943 by a scruffy bunch of illiterate mechanics.
Yiddish Glossary:
Get - Jewish divorce document. A husband has to issue this to his wife,
it can never be done by the wife to her husband. Therefore if a woman is abandoned,
she is in a social limbo, neither a widow or single, and therefore has no status.
Goyim - derogatory word for non-Jews.
Mamzer - Illegitimate children. If an abandoned Jewish wife - even if
she manages to get a civil divorce - has another relationship before she is
given the 'get' by her husband, the relationship is regarded as adulterous.
She can marry the man with whom she has the relationship, but in Jewish law
it is unacceptable and the marriage is not recognised and their children are
mamzer.
*************************
"What d'you mean, 'not fit for active duty'? Of course I'm bloody fit -
"
"No you're not, Nikolai. Not now, and never will be. And that's final."
Doctor Oleg Chernyenko cocked an eyebrow at Major Nikolai Koulikov, the big sniper sitting shakily on the edge of the big bed and scowling at the young doctor as he finished his examination and put away his stethoscope.
Oleg frowned as he studied his friend. Ten days had passed since the fever had broken, and Nikolai had only just managed to get out of bed for the first time. Even now, Oleg knew, Nikolai was exhausted with the effort of sitting upright, and Rivka hovered anxiously close by, worried that Nikolai was over-exerting himself.
Nikolai's blue
eyes smouldered with anger. The man didn't know what he was talking about! Unfit
for duty indeed! All he needed was to rest a little while longer and he would
be as right as rain, wasn't that obvious? He began to fasten the three buttons
of his undershirt … and noticed his hands were shaking. God, he hated being
so weak! The effort of fastening a button left him breathless and the coughing
began once more, Rivka sitting down beside him and rubbing his back.
Oleg studied the pair of them.
Rivka was tired but content, although still concerned about Nikolai's health and not about her own. He sighed. He was fighting a losing battle attempting to get her to rest, but she was too wrapped up with trying to get Nikolai to eat, or sleep, or both, to worry about herself. But he had to admit she was blossoming. Her pregnancy was noticeable now, the slight swell of her belly showing through her skirts, and more than once he had seen Nikolai doze quietly in bed with Rivka sitting beside him knitting, his big hand lying protectively on her abdomen.
But Nikolai Koulikov was turning into his own worst enemy. His fever had gone, but Oleg had been very concerned about him during the days that followed, as the big man was slow to respond to the care that Rivka lavished on him. His appetite was poor, although she had done wonders getting him to take fluids and broth, and he had slept better. But he was still dreadfully thin and the cough just wouldn't go away. His chest was still congested and he was terribly weak, and Oleg knew finally that Nikolai's lungs were so damaged that he would never be fit for active service again. His soldiering days were effectively over.
He watched Rivka drape a warm blanket over Nikolai's shoulders, knowing he was a little cold, and tried to get him into bed, but he refused. Frustrated, Nikolai told her he wanted to sit in his chair a little while - he was tired of being in bed all day. Rivka looked at Oleg for reassurance.
Oleg smiled.
"If he feels well enough, then let him. Besides, the exercise is good for his circulation. But if you get tired, Nikolai, then it's straight back to bed - do you understand? I won't have Rivka trying to cope with you if you're so weak she can't lift you."
He knew if he pointed out that Rivka would have to do something she shouldn't to help him if he became weak, then Nikolai would behave himself.
Nikolai struggled to get the cough under control and nodded, irritated.
"I hear you. But once I get this bloody cough sorted out I'll be just fine, so I will - "
Oleg shook his head. The man was incorrigible! Sighing, he helped Rivka lift Nikolai to his feet, the sick man dismayed to discover that his legs very nearly gave out under him. It took him all of five minutes to get from the bed to the chair, a mere two metres away, and even with Oleg and Rivka supporting him he was completely worn out by the time he was lowered into the huge old chair.
Unable to speak for a moment, he sat quietly, catching his breath, as Rivka wrapped him in a warm quilt and slipped an extra pair of socks onto his feet. Pillows were set behind his shoulders and he relaxed back into the familiar comfort of the big chair. He closed his eyes as he savoured the moment - out of bed at last, for the first time in over two weeks!
Oleg sat down on the sofa and accepted the tea Rivka handed him, and wondered when Nikolai would stop being a stubborn fool and understand what he was telling the man. He watched as Rivka set a small table beside Nikolai and placed his mug of tea and a small plate of potatoes and bacon on it. Nikolai smiled up at her, his face still heartbreakingly thin. Rivka patted him on the shoulder.
"Come on, Niko - eat, will you? You need to get some strength back in you. I can't stand seeing you so thin, love …"
Oleg could see that Nikolai really wasn't very hungry, but he slowly forked a little hot food into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. As the big soldier swallowed Oleg saw the spasm of pain on Nikolai's features and the cough began again.
"Nikolai?"
Nikolai looked up at the young doctor as he ate, trying to do as Rivka asked, knowing if he didn't eat she would fret. But it was a struggle. He wasn't hungry in the least. He didn't know why, and he had to admit even to himself that he still felt dreadful. Oleg continued.
"Nikolai, I know you don't want to believe me, but I'm afraid it's true. Your lungs are irreparably damaged, my friend - not by the typhus, but because of … well, what happened before."
Nikolai smiled bitterly.
"You mean when I was tortured?" He shuddered slightly at the memories. He remembered the blood and the dreadful pain … he closed his eyes and tried to shut them out. "It wasn't pretty, I can tell you."
Oleg could guess at how bad it had been.
"They scarred your lungs badly, Nikolai, and the typhus inflamed the lining. It's going to take a while for the inflammation to go down and even then you won't be fit to go back to active duty. I'm also concerned that you may end up getting flare-ups of typhus." He saw Rivka's eyes widen in sudden panic and hastened to reassure her. "Don't worry, it's only mild … but enough to put you in bed for a few days. It's a bit like malaria, on rare occasions it doesn't leave your system. It's not common, but your slow recovery may mean you've contracted the syndrome. If you become unwell with a cold or something like that, there's always a chance that the milder version will return. So you have to take care of yourself, and being a soldier in this hell of a war doesn't lend itself to home comforts." He watched Nikolai concentrate on his food. "Do you understand?"
Nikolai was silent for a moment or two as he finished his mouthful of potatoes, and then nodded reluctantly. Oleg pressed onward.
"Nikolai, you've spent, what? Twenty-odd years in the army - "
"Nearly twenty-seven."
Oleg nodded.
"Twenty-seven years. A long time. Think about it, man! You'll retire on a Major's pension plus a little bit extra because of your illness making you unfit, and I'm sure Danilov might even wangle more for you in compensation for what you went through with the NKVD. It'll be enough to live reasonably comfortably and you don't even have to be sent home, for goodness sake! You have a home here with Rivka, although I'm sure you could probably go somewhere else if you wanted to. You're a hero, dammit! A Hero of the Soviet Union and you have the papers to prove it. Take advantage of it, Nikolai, and relax. Your war's over, my friend. Stay home and enjoy your family."
But even as he spoke, Oleg knew his words were falling on deaf ears. He sighed.
"I'll be off, then. I have a shift to go to, and Anna's waiting for me. We'll call in to see you this evening and see how you're getting on." He grinned. "Anna and I want to discuss something with you."
Rivka stood up and showed the young doctor to the door, glancing at Nikolai as he toyed with his food.
"He's so … so depressed, Oleg. I don't quite know what to do with him." Her voice was low.
Oleg patted her on the shoulder reassuringly.
"The depression is quite common, Rivka - we don't see it at the hospital because we ship the patients over the river as soon as they're stabilised, but severe illness can cause it. Don't worry - he's just concerned about the future, and who can blame him? The only work he's ever known taken away from him, and now a baby on the way? That's all he can think of at the moment, so don't concern yourself too much. He'll come around, I'm positive."
Rivka smiled at him, unable to conceal her concern for Nikolai, but thankful that she had Oleg and Anna to help them both. They had been a godsend.
Shutting the door behind Oleg, she returned to Nikolai's side and sat down on the sofa, saddened at the hopelessness in his face.
"If you can't finish it, don't worry. You can have something else later."
Nikolai snapped out of his reverie.
"What?" Then he realised Rivka meant the food. "Oh. Right. Sorry, Rivka - I've had as much as I can manage. Just don't seem to be hungry these days."
She squeezed his arm.
"That's all right. Don't fret, love. It'll be fine, you'll see. You look tired. Do you want to go back to bed?"
Seeing his nod, she lifted the plate of half-eaten food, put it by the washbowl and helped him to his feet. Supporting his frail body she could have wept at how thin he still was, feeling his hipbone press against her side and line of his ribs under his clothes. It was a slow, tortuous journey back to bed and he groaned with relief as he sank back into soft pillows. Rivka covered him with blankets and smiled.
"Better?"
"Mmm." He turned vacant eyes to her. "I'm sorry, Rivka."
Nonplussed, Rivka sat beside him.
"Sorry? Sorry for what, may I ask?"
For a moment he looked ready to speak … but his eyes closed and he curled into himself under the blankets.
"Oh … nothing. I'm tired. I think I'll get some kip …"
Rivka tucked the blankets around him, and within moments Nikolai Koulikov was sound asleep.
*******************
He slept until supper-time, his worn body desperately needing to recoup its strength, and Rivka quietly went about her work and let him rest. Oleg and Anna arrived just as he finally woke up and eased himself upwards to rest on the pillows, Rivka kissing him and handing him a hot drink. She made the couple welcome, and after preparing tea for them all she sat down beside Nikolai and they talked.
The big soldier lay quietly, listening to their chatter and enjoying the company. He watched Rivka's face as she smiled, loving the animation on her beautiful face as she talked to their young friends. He also saw the look on Oleg Chernyenko's face as he gazed at Anna, and knew the two of them adored one another. He smiled tiredly and touched Rivka on the arm, then he clasped his hand around hers where it rested on her stomach. Rivka laid her hand on his and patted it affectionately.
"So … tell us what you wanted to talk to us about."
Anna blushed and studied her feet, but Oleg grinned.
"We want a favour from the pair of you."
Nikolai raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"A favour, hey? And what kind of favour would that be, lad?"
Oleg, normally confident and assertive, was suddenly almost bashful.
"Well .. oh, how can I put this … erm …"
Anna looked up at him and gave him a mock scowl.
"Oh, for goodness sake, Oleg!" She smiled apologetically at Rivka and Nikolai. "We've decided to marry and we want you two to stand as witnesses for us."
Rivka let out a small shriek of delight and leaned forward to clasp Anna's hands in congratulations. Oleg just grinned like a loon.
Nikolai was enchanted.
"Well!! Well I never!! I must say boy, it's about time!! Rivka always told me you two were made for one another, and it looks like she was right for once!"
"'For once'!!' For once', you big fool?? I'm always right and you know it, you … you meshugener!!" Rivka tried hard to be angry with her Niko but couldn't wipe the silly smile from her face, thrilled that her matchmaking efforts had not gone unrewarded. "So … tell us! When's the big day?"
"I received permission yesterday, so I suppose in about a month. Nikolai my good friend, I expect you to be a little better by then or there'll be hell to pay!"
Nikolai's grin belied his tiredness, but he had to admit he was delighted for the young couple, despite a sudden twinge of regret. For a moment he wished … no, he couldn't let himself think about that. It wasn't to be, and that was that.
"I'll try, boy, I promise. Congratulations. Both of you." He shook Oleg's hand and Anna gave him a kiss on his gaunt cheek. He lifted long fingers and touched Anna's face. "Be happy, little one. He's a good man, and I know he'll make a good husband and father. If he doesn't just you come to old Papa Koulikov and I'll sort him out for you!"
Anna smiled, tears threatening to spill in happiness.
"I will, Nikolai, I promise - as long as you promise to try and get well."
Nikolai returned her smile and squeezed her hand.
"I'll be fine, girl, don't you worry yourself. I'm tough, and I have Rivka to nag me if I don't behave!"
Rivka scowled dramatically at him even as her eyes watched him with adoration. Her Niko certainly was tough, but the typhus had almost killed him, and she was damned if she would let anything else happen to him.
Oleg and Anna stayed for another thirty minutes, but said their goodnights when they saw how tired Nikolai was.
After they had gone, Nikolai and Rivka ate a little soup, then Rivka yawned and stoked the brazier, damping the coals in preparation for lasting out the night. She made a hot cordial for Nikolai and changed into her night-gown, Nikolai watching her as she changed. God, how he wanted her! Her body was softer, more rounded now in her pregnancy, and her breasts were full and luscious. But he was so weak …
Rivka saw the wistful expression on his face as she slipped into bed beside him, lifting her sewing from the bedside table. Nikolai eased onto his side and laid his hand on her belly as he often did now, loving the swell of the child within. Rivka peered at him as she threaded her needle, propping herself up on pillows.
"Why so sad, love?" Rivka finished threading the needle and began to stitch another square onto the tiny quilt she was making.
Nikolai grimaced.
"Oh … it's nothing really." He smiled up at her as he rubbed her belly. "Just thinking. Well, wishing, I suppose."
"About what?"
"Oh, all sorts of things. About you and the baby mostly." His hand strayed to her breast, stroking the full nipple beneath with something that was akin to reverence. "And about … well, about how much I want to make love to you."
Rivka dropped her hands and her sewing into her lap in astonishment.
"You do? Well, love, what's stopping you? If you feel like making love with me," She leaned over and kissed him, her lips sensual and loving against his, " Then we can. We can go slowly, Niko, until you're feeling better - "
He frowned.
"We can't."
Now Rivka was confused.
"Why ever not?" Then her eyes cleared. "Oh, you … you can't just yet … well, don't worry, that'll come back when you're well again - "
Nikolai shook his head.
"It's not that, Rivka! I think I could manage well enough, woman!" He sighed. "We can't because … because of the baby …"
"Oh, Nikolai, you are an idiot!" Rivka's mouth dimpled in amusement. "Of course we can make love, you big oaf! I asked Oleg about it, and he says as long as I'm fit and well and the pregnancy's progressing normally - which it is - then lovemaking is perfectly all right!"
Nikolai was appalled.
"You've discussed this with Oleg??"
"Of course I have! He's my doctor, after all, and … well, it's important to us both, isn't it?"
"But Rivka - "
"Now don't you 'But Rivka' me, Nikolai Koulikov!! I'm fine and so is the baby, and making love with you is good for both of us, so stop all this nonsense right now, do you hear?" She reached over and touched a finger to his cheek, stroking it gently. "Whenever you feel ready, love. It's all right. Although, I'd be happier if you were recovering faster. You shouldn't worry so about things. Everything will work out well enough, Niko, you'll see."
She watched as he digested the information, then returned to her sewing, Nikolai lying quietly beside her as she put tiny, delicate stitches into the soft material. Nikolai knew the quilt was for the baby, and he studied her every move, intrigued by the flow of her fingers as she sewed, her face set in concentration.
Rivka felt his hand unbutton her night-gown where it lay over her stomach,
and she smiled at the feel of his palm as it settled on the smooth skin of her
belly. Nikolai stroked the rise of the baby inside her and marvelled at the
certainty of it. A child. His child, that he had planted in her womb on that
first night they joined, and he smiled at the memory of lying between her thighs
ashe moved in helpless ecstasy. He wondered for a moment if the child would
resemble him. Maybe he would have blue eyes. Maybe … maybe, he would look
like his mother, with black hair and brown eyes that could look into your very
soul.
"Niko …" Rivka looked up from her sewing for a moment.
"Mm-hmm?" His voice was drowsy.
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to nag it out of you?" She gave him a fleeting smile, then continued with her sewing, adding another little square to the quilt. "It's all right love … you know you can talk to me if anything's worrying you. I just don't like to see you so depressed. It's not good for you, you know." She bent over and kissed his curly head, telling him how much she loved him.
Nikolai looked up at her in surprise. Had it been that obvious? He rubbed her bare belly again, gently, lovingly, thinking of the baby to come, and how much he looked forward to it. He sighed. Well, perhaps she should know what was bothering him. She always understood.
"I've been in the army since I was sixteen years old, Rivka. I'll be forty-three in a few days. Nearly twenty-seven years … it's a long time." He sighed. "I don't know anything else. I know Oleg says my pension will be decent enough, and we'll be able to live on it, but … but that's just not the point!" His voice was harsh with emotion, and Rivka suddenly knew he was close to tears.
She put down her sewing and slipped lower in the bed, curling into Nikolai's arms and holding him tight. She felt him tremble.
"It will be just fine, Niko! You know that! It means you'll be here when your son is born, and you can see him grow strong and tall - just like his Papa!" She kissed him lightly on the cheekbone.
Nikolai would not be placated, however. He eased back a little on the pillows and looked at her with such despair her heart gave a skip of concern.
"But Rivka, I'm not fit for anything! I'll be useless - I can't even work in the sniping school, although God knows it wouldn't exactly be hard work! But Oleg thinks I'm just too buggered up to be any use for anything at all! What else can I do? I can't go into civvy street and teach folks how to kill Germans for the rest of my life, can I? So what else am I good for? Nothing! I'm just no bloody use to you or the baby. I may as well have just died and be done with it - at least you and the baby would've had money to live on and not had me dragging you down - "
Rivka was shocked.
"Nikolai Koulikov!! Don't you dare begin to think like that, you … you … klotz!! Useless?? Never!! You're a clever man, Niko, and you can do anything you wish when you try! And who said you're not fit to teach in the sniping school? Does Oleg know about it?"
Nikolai was somewhat taken aback by both her outburst and her question.
"I … I don't know. But Rivka - "
"Well then! Why don't you ask him? He said you weren't fit for active duty - is teaching 'active duty'?"
"I -"
"So ask! And while we're at it, I'll speak to Igor Danilov, he'll know. He wanted you in the first place, and I don't think he'll wish to lose such a capable and intelligent officer. But not before you're healed, Niko - I won't have you pushing yourself too hard, d'you hear?"
"But - "
Rivka stopped his words with a kiss. Breaking away, she smiled at him, her voice gentle once more.
"And if you can't teach, Niko, it doesn't matter. You will find something you can do, I'm sure."
Nikolai shook his head in wonderment. His Rivka. Her faith in him was unshakeable, and he didn't think he deserved it one little bit - but arguing with her was pointless. She always won.
"I just … I just wanted my son to be proud of his Papa, Rivka. And how can he be proud of me if I'm not proud of myself? How can he be proud of a useless, broken-down old soldier who has nothing to show for it but memories?"
Rivka could have wept. How could he think of himself this way?
"Oh, my wonderful Niko, you can be such a fool sometimes! Not proud of you? Such silliness, my love! How could he not be proud of a man who cared for his mother the way you did? How could he not be proud of a man who would protect both his woman and his child with his life, or … or look after us the way you do? Any son would be proud of a Papa like you … and so would any woman worth her salt! You are a fine man, Nikolai Koulikov … a good man. And, you idiot, you will be a truly wonderful father!"
Nikolai frowned, unsure.
"I'm not exactly in the first flush of youth, woman! I'm nearly forty-three - a bit old to be a first time father, don't you think? I don't know much about children, and … and … well, how will I know what to do? What if -"
"Ach! 'What if' indeed! I'm thirty-six and this is just as new to me. Believe me, Niko, the first time you hold this baby in your arms, you will know what to do. Instinct is just as strong in new Papas too, you know!" she smiled, amused at his concern. How like him! Always worried he was doing the wrong thing! But she saw the troubled look on his gaunt face, and knew there was something else bothering him. She could see the inner turmoil struggling to get out, so she kissed him lightly, and waited.
"Rivka …"
She nodded, satisfied. She knew it. Nikolai continued, hesitant and unsure.
"Rivka … when Oleg and Anna came tonight and told us they were to marry, it … it made me sad inside."
She was dumbfounded. What on earth was he talking about?
"You don't think they're suited?? Of course they are, Niko! They're made for one another - "
Nikolai shook his head tiredly.
"No, No! That's not what I meant … it's … it's …" He hesitated, taking a deep breath, the cough threatening to break out once more. He struggled for a few moments to get his breathing under control, Rivka now both worried and confused. He sighed. "It's that bloody husband of yours, Gavri."
Rivka blinked.
"Gavri?? What on earth has Gavri got to do with it, for goodness sake?"
Nikolai scowled at the thought of the man, but realised he wasn't making a very good job of explaining himself.
"Oh, bugger it! Listen, Rivka … when Oleg and Anna told us they were getting married, it … well, it made me sad because I want to marry you, dammit!" He looked miserably at Rivka's face, now riven with shock. "I want to give our baby a name, Rivka - yes, I know, I know - you said he would carry my name, but that's not the point. I grew up with no father, Rivka. I was a bastard. My mother loved me and I didn't lack for affection, I know, but … it still mattered. And it's not just giving the baby a name, it's more than that. I love you, woman! I'm an old-fashioned fellow and I want to marry the woman I love, and give her all I have to give … my name, my support … my soul. You're all I ever wanted, Rivka. You're my Rivka, and you always will be, and I want you to be happy. And I can't, because you're still married to that bloody idiot of a man. So, there you are. That's what's bothering me." He lay back on the pillow, exhausted with the effort of talking.
Rivka was struck speechless.
Marry?? Had she heard him right? Major Nikolai Koulikov had just asked her to marry him, she was sure! She felt a sudden rush of blood to her head, making her dizzy for a moment, and she took a deep breath to try and clear it. Before she could stop herself, a tear trickled down her cheek. The big dumkop had really asked her to marry him!! The words repeated in her head, and at that moment she discovered she was truly the happiest woman in the world.
But all Nikolai saw was how pale she became, and his heart sank into his feet. He hadn't meant to upset her, and when he saw the tear he was distraught. He had made her cry! He had opened his big mouth and asked her to marry him and she was terribly upset at the very idea! He was such an idiot … worthless, that's what he was!
Rivka felt a big thumb wipe away the tear and looked into Nikolai's azure eyes … eyes that betrayed the terrible pain in his heart.
"I … I'm sorry Rivka … I shouldn't have asked …"
"Oh, Niko, you fool!! Of course I'll marry you!!"
And she cupped her hands around his dear face, and kissed him until he was breathless with amazement and sheer wonder, as he gazed into velvet brown eyes glistening with tears of happiness.
Nikolai blinked in confusion as she showered kisses on him once more, and he tasted her sweetness on his lips. She loved him truly, and wanted to marry him. She did! She just said so!! Looking at her he thought he had never seen her look so beautiful, with her black hair falling in a thick halo around her lean face and her brown eyes sparkling with joy.
"You will? You really mean it? You'll marry me?" His voice was incredulous.
Rivka nodded, teary-eyed.
"Yes, I'll marry you, you idiot! I love you!!"
And she gathered his battered body to her and kissed him tenderly, Nikolai holding her close and responding, lips moulding to hers, knowing at last that Rivka was his forever.
They lay for long moments, hands touching each other, each reassuring brush of lips in a soft kiss deepening their love. But the strain was too much for Nikolai's tired frame. Although he tried to control it the cough finally broke from him and Rivka held him, trying to ease it by rubbing his back as she had done so often these past days. It subsided slowly and he lay breathless, Rivka letting him relax against her.
"This bloody cough … hurts my chest …" He managed a deep sigh and looked up into Rivka's concerned features. "Rivka, how are we to marry? We have to find that bugger Gavri first."
Rivka's face fell. She had forgotten about Gavri Velonin in her delight at Nikolai's proposal. She had to find him if she was to divorce him, that was for certain - and she was well within her rights to do so, as he had abandoned her and taken her dowry.
"I don't know, Niko. I really don't know …" She thought for a moment at the enormity of the problem. Gavri could be anywhere … he could even be dead. But as to how to go about tracing him she had no idea. But she was tired, and couldn't think straight. Nikolai's proposal filled her with joy and right now she couldn't think of anything else, so she smiled at him and kissed the end of his nose. "We'll think about it in the morning, when you've had some sleep, love. You're tired and you need to rest, and - OHH!!" Her eyes widened in surprise.
"What? What is it??" Nikolai struggled to sit up, concern in his eyes. "Is there something wrong?" When she didn't answer and just lay there with a shocked look on her face, Nikolai began to panic. "Rivka! What's wrong? Is it the baby?? Are you - "
But before he could continue Rivka looked at him with shining eyes and caught hold of his hand, placing it flat on her belly where the child lay.
Confused, Nikolai waited for a moment … and then felt an unmistakable hefty kick under the palm of his hand.
"Nikolai …"
He looked into Rivka's velvet gaze as she lay, thrilled.
"Niko, love, that is not the kick of a doctor!"
Major Nikolai Koulikov grinned the widest, silliest, toothiest grin she had ever seen in her life, and she had to chuckle at the sheer boyish delight in his still-thin face. She thought for a moment he would burst with pride.
"Rivka! The baby kicked!"
"Yes love, I know. I felt it, remember?" Rivka was highly amused at his reaction. Nikolai knew she had been feeling movement for some time now, but this was the first time he had been able to feel it himself, and he was astonished … thrilled … and overwhelmed by such a deep rush of love that it made him glow inside. His baby. Lying safe and snug in his mother's womb, growing strong and well, biding his time until he came into the world and the welcoming embrace of his Mama and Papa.
He slid back down into the bed, Gavri Velonin forgotten for now, and snuggled up to Rivka. His hand still lay on her belly, now stroking gently, and he kissed her with passion. When he had done that he leaned down and kissed her abdomen lovingly.
"Goodnight, little one. Remember, your Mama needs her sleep so don't keep her awake too long with all that bouncing about. But don't worry … when you're born I'll make you toys, and you can play as long as you like."
He settled himself back beside Rivka and gathered her into his arms, kissing the top of her head.
"Get some rest, my lady. You'll need it, looking after this little bruiser."
Rivka snorted softly in amusement, turning onto her side and resting her head on his shoulder.
"Takes after his Papa, by the feel of it. Go to sleep, Niko. We'll talk in the morning, shall we?"
"Mm-hmm …"
Nikolai's voice was drowsy, but she heard the pleasure in his soft baritone. She lifted her head for a moment and looked up into his face, and was charmed.
Nikolai was already asleep, but his face was set in a soft, radiant smile.
Rivka chuckled to herself, wrapped her arm around his waist, snuggled into his broad chest, and drifted into slumber.
*********************
"You do realise it won't be easy, Rivka."
Igor Semyonovich Danilov sat opposite Rivka in his little cramped office, gazing at her kindly from behind wire-rimmed spectacles.
Rivka sat quietly, hands in her lap, and smiled at the young political officer.
"Yes, Igor, I know. Getting a divorce with all of the new regulations is difficult, but I think I have grounds, don't you? And besides, he's been gone for over five years - if that doesn't constitute abandonment, I don't know what does!"
"That's not really the problem, here … the problem is finding the beggar and getting him to sign the papers." He looked once more through the documents Rivka had handed him and thought for a moment. "I see you were married not only under civil law but also Jewish law. That means if you wish to get a divorce from him under Jewish law he will have to divorce you, you know that." Igor saw her nod. "And even supposing he signs the get and divorces you …" He faltered a moment. The next bit was difficult, but Rivka smiled, and said it for him.
"Even if he gives me the get, I could not marry Nikolai under Jewish law … yes, Igor, I know. Even if Niko was Jewish, ours would be regarded as an adulterous relationship and our children regarded as mamzer … illegitimate. But he's goyim, they would say, so it doesn't matter. Anyway, I've not been a practising Jew for a long time … I eat pork and ham when I can get it and I work on the Shabbat - if I didn't, I would have starved long ago. I'm a practical woman, Igor, and I'm sure God won't blame me one little bit." She took a deep breath and continued. "No, lad … if I can divorce Gavri under civil law I will be happy enough. Then Niko and I can marry, and our child will be raised a Russian. That's all I care about. A Jewish get would be nice and it would soothe my family's feelings a little, especially since I'm marrying a non-Jew, but it won't make that much difference in the long run. You're Jewish, and you know the difficulties our people have here in the Soviet Union. I won't have our child subject to that sort of pressure."
Igor studied her for long moments, then nodded.
"All right. I'll see what I can do, but it won't be easy and I can't promise anything." He gave a sudden, flashing smile that lit up his handsome face. "As long as I get an invitation to the wedding!"
Rivka chuckled.
"Of course you will! I will expect you to come, boy! Niko and I wish to share it with all of our friends, and we wouldn't dream of going ahead without you." She leaned forward and touched his hand.
Igor patted her hand reassuringly, and turned his thoughts to other matters.
"Now then, about Nikolai. What's all this I hear about him wishing to stay in the army? I thought he was declared unfit for duty?"
Rivka's chin tilted as she straightened in her seat.
"Unfit for active duty, Oleg says. Niko was brought back to Stalingrad to teach sniping, and he says that's hardly what he would call 'active' duty. I don't know whether that's true, but he thinks he'll be able to do it." She saw the doubt in Igor's face, but pressed on regardless. "He doesn't know anything else, Igor … he's just about the best, you know that! He's 'The Bear' … imagine how that would look in the newspapers! The propaganda value would be immeasurable. Didn't you once say that the people needed heroes? He may not be fit for front-line duty, but he can teach these youngsters not only his shooting skills, but how to stay alive in the process! Imagine it … a 'Hero of the Soviet Union', bearer of the highest honour our country can give for bravery, passing on his skills to young soldiers who will go on to help save Russia from the Nazi invaders! Think of it, Igor!"
Igor Danilov looked at Rivka's animated face and knew she believed every word of what she was saying … and burst out laughing.
"Rivka Velonina, if you ever need a job I can find you one as a political officer, I have no doubt! You can be so convincing it's frightening, woman!"
Rivka stared at him for a moment, then grinned sheepishly.
"Well … you know every word of it is true!" She sobered for a second. "Talk to Oleg, please! I don't think he knows about the sniping school, so discuss it with him and tell us what you've decided. If Niko is still declared unfit, even for that, then we'll cope with it … but he wants this so much, Igor - please don't dismiss the idea before you've discussed it with Oleg …"
The young officer shook his head in amazement. She was incorrigible!
"All right, I promise to speak to Oleg - but yet again, I can't promise anything. If he says Nikolai's not fit, then I'm afraid he'll be honourably discharged from the army on medical grounds. With a good pension too, I'll wager. So don't worry Rivka - we'll sort something out, one way or another, that I will promise."
Rivka looked at the earnest brown eyes behind the lenses and nodded decisively.
"That's all I ask, lad. Thank you, Igor - you don't know how much this means to us!"
"My pleasure, Rivka. I'll come and see you both as soon as I can, and I hope I'll have some news for you then, all right?"
"That's wonderful! You've been so kind …" Rivka stood up to leave, and then turned back to him, remembering something. "By the way, I forgot! It's Nikolai's birthday in a few days … on the thirteenth. I thought I'd have a little get-together for him … just a few friends, with some food and music. It won't be much, but I thought he needed cheering up. We were hoping you would join us …"
Igor grinned with delight.
"Of course I'll come! I'll try and bring something to add to the food supply, things being difficult still. Would that be all right?"
"That would be wonderful!" Rivka looked up at him with affection. He was a nice young man … lonely and a little naïve, but a good lad. She knew he still loved Tania Chernova deeply, but she had been invalided out of the army due to her terrible wounds, and he had been unable to trace her. She thought for a moment about Vassili Zaitsev, now on the road south towards the battered city of Kursk. He too loved Tania Chernova … but she had returned his love, and Igor Danilov had watched and grieved, his heart broken. Rivka reached up and planted a little kiss on his cheek, her own heart aching for him.
"I know how hard it is for you, Igor. I know you loved her very much."
Igor gave her a small, unsteady smile.
"I still do, Rivka. I always will."
They stood for a moment, one watching the other as his heart broke anew, and Rivka wished she could do something to heal it for him.
"My Great-Aunt Lou used to say something to me when I was a little girl, and I thought the world was coming to an end when something happened that day that upset me. She used to say "Rivka, my girl, don't grieve so. This too, will pass.' And she was right. This too, will pass, Igor Semyonovich Danilov. Life goes on, and I'm the proof of it." Rivka patted her stomach where the child lay.
The slight young officer smiled boyishly, charming Rivka to bits.
"She was a clever lady, your Great Aunt Lou - I'm sure she's right."
Rivka grinned back.
"The old ogre's still alive, as far as I know, and she would like you, my lad! She would be out looking for a nice, sturdy lass for you with big, child-bearing hips and a sunny smile, able to cook like a dream and capable of keeping her man happy in bed at night! A very practical lady, my Great Aunt Lou!"
Igor had the good grace to blush.
Smiling, Rivka put on her coat and headed out of the door, leaving Igor Danilov to his mounds of paperwork and wondering how on earth he was ever going to find the errant Gavri Velonin.
****************
The dreadful winter was finally turning into a wet and windy spring, and the thaw had brought strength-sapping mud and raw chills. Trucks and tanks trawled through the squelching ruts, turning the roads into a mire, and both army personnel and what was left of the civilian population endured the discomfort cheerily - maybe life would turn to some semblance of normality, now that the enemy was slowly being driven back to the south and west.
But there were still the prisoners of war … Germans, Rumanians, Italians, all fighting for existence in the camps that dotted the steppes around Stalingrad. They had paid the price for Hitler's determination to take Stalingrad at all costs, and after the Fuhrer's refusal to send reinforcements the remnants of the Third Reich's elite 6th Army and 4th Panzer divisions became known as something else … the Forgotten Army. The Soviet army had been unforgiving in its victory - many Axis soldiers had died, mown down by vengeful Red Army soldiers, some burned to death in the cellars that had previously protected them, and now became death-traps. And now … now they fought to survive on the diet of cabbage, bread and garbage that the Soviet military thought adequate for their needs.
But in Stalingrad, other events were taking place. In March, the whistle from the first train to run around the Tractor Factory's convoluted internal system had echoed in crisp air, while at Beketovka the Russians dug a huge ditch and dumped nearly forty thousand German bodies in a mass grave, victims of the ravages of a typhus epidemic. By April, many German soldiers were helping to rebuild the city that had been left bare rubble by the ravages of war. Starving, clad in rags and often riddled with lice and typhus, they battled on, trying to survive. It broke Rivka's heart to see them, and she would try and sneak a little food to them when she could. They were often pathetically grateful, and the Russian guards turned a blind eye to a soft-hearted pregnant woman who couldn't bear seeing men starving to death, no matter that the Nazi authorities would have killed both Rivka and her child if they had taken the city.
Four days after Rivka's meeting with Danilov, Nikolai celebrated his forty-third birthday.
He spent the day quietly, building up his strength, and looked forward to the little get-together Rivka had organised for him. He had never had a 'birthday party' before, and sat in his big, comfortable chair watching with wonder as Rivka bustled around, preparing food that had been given to her - often gained by rather devious means by the light-fingered mechanic Lubov. She had managed a cake and some cold ham and pickles, borsht, a good lentil soup, and some vegetables. There were also some pickled eggs, and a rare treat - young Lubov had surpassed himself and brought her two small chickens. Where on earth he had 'found' them she didn't ask, but she was sure some officer somewhere was missing a couple of his prize hens … keeping hens being a common habit among officers as it meant a supply of fresh eggs. They had been roasted, and sat on the table with hot potatoes in their skins and a serving of turnips and carrots mashed together and sprinkled with black pepper. The piece de resistance was a half-kilo of butter Lubov had silently handed her the night before, grinning at her cheekily. Rivka had baked some fresh loaves and left them covered in muslin cloth on the table to keep warm.
When darkness fell, anyone passing the cellar trapdoor might have heard soft music and the gentle murmur of voices as Nikolai Koulikov quietly celebrated his birthday with his friends around him, cared for by the woman he loved.
Rivka sat on the sofa and looked at the people around her. Oleg and Anna sat on a couple of chairs, heaped plates of food in their hands and sharing a glass of vodka. Anna was flushed with the little mouthful of alcohol she had drunk and her face glowed prettily in the lamplight. Nikitin and his bunch of mechanics sprawled where they could and argued the various merits of mysterious bits of equipment useful for repairing tank exhausts. They all had food beside them and one of Rivka's motley collection of mugs, a small, precious measure of brandy in each one. Lubov had brought some records for the phonograph, songs from before the war … songs of love, or loss, or desire. Sometimes one of them would join in the song, and the rest would listen, thoughts returning to happier times. Young Danilov sat on a stool, for once jacketless and with his sleeves rolled up, tucking into Rivka's food as though he hadn't been fed for a week.
Major Nikolai Koulikov relaxed in his big chair and looked at his friends. Friends … a word he hadn't used in a long time. A plate of hot chicken and vegetables sat beside him with a small measure of brandy, and a delicious fruit cake awaited the little group's attention for dessert. There were people here who called him 'friend', and cared enough to help him celebrate his birthday. He felt Rivka's hand caress his soft curls as she passed him, her touch telling him how much she loved him. As she leaned over the table his gaze wandered over the swell of the child she carried, and he rejoiced. He was a lucky, lucky man.
The group had not brought gifts other than food, but that was more than he had expected, and the little party was just perfect as far as Nikolai was concerned. For once he didn't feel too tired, and he managed to eat his meal, making Rivka very happy indeed. His friends were careful not to tire him, and the atmosphere was comfortable and intimate.
Soft laughter echoed through the cellar as Nikitin began to nag young Lubov to sing, telling everyone who would listen that the 'little bastard' had a decent voice, and the young mechanic was suddenly inundated with requests. Lubov protested, bashful for once, but Nikitin insisted, suggestions for songs now flying thick and fast.
"Oh, oh, what about a song I heard some poor German prisoner sing the other day? I've heard the tune before, but I don't know the song." Rivka was frustrated, her memory letting her down. "Oh, what was it??" Her face brightened. "Ah! 'Lili' something …"
"Lili Marlene." Nikolai's soft rumble made Rivka look at him with concern … his voice was sad with memory. He smiled at her. "It's a German song … I heard it in Gnössen before the war. I think soldiers in every bloody army in this damned war know it."
Lubov's angular young face lit up.
"I know that one! I heard it on Radio Belgrade when the Fritzes marched into Yugoslavia." He grinned. "We used to tune in if we could get the frequency - the Fritz music's a bit jollier than ours …"
Nikolai snorted in amusement, but his eyes were sad.
"So, lad - will you sing it for us?"
Lubov looked at the expectant faces and nodded shyly, waiting as Turgenev, one of the other mechanics, brought out a harmonica. Turgenev tried a few notes to let Lubov get his pitch, and the young mechanic took a deep breath.
Within moments his clear, soft tenor rang quietly in the hushed cellar.
Underneath the lantern, by the barrack gate,
Darling, I remember the way you used to wait
T'was there that you whispered tenderly,
That you loved me,
You'd always be,
My Lili of the lamplight, my own Lili Marlene.
As the second verse began, so did the other voices. Nikitin's gruff tones joined in, followed by the rest of the motor pool crew, untrained, sometimes tuneless, but deeply heartfelt.
Time would come for roll call, time for us to part,
Darling I'd caress you and press you to my heart,
And there 'neath that far-off lantern light,
I'd hold you tight,
We'd kiss good night,
My Lili of the lamplight, my own Lili Marlene.
Oleg's gentle voice was heard, his hazel-brown eyes gazing at his Anna, her own face turned upwards to his. She hummed quietly, not knowing the words but the tune coming easily to her light voice. Her strawberry blonde hair fell like liquid candlelight on her shoulders, and Oleg's heart nearly burst from the swell of love he felt. She was his, and would be always, he knew.
Orders came for sailing somewhere over there
All confined to barracks was more than I could bear
I knew you were waiting in the street
I heard your feet,
But could not meet,
My Lili of the lamplight, my own Lili Marlene.
Rivka looked at Igor Danilov, and was saddened to see him sitting silently, his dark, fathomless eyes gazing into the depths of the brazier, the firelight setting the unshed tears in his dark eyes aflame. His mind and heart were both with Tania Chernova, wherever she was.
Her own mind was with Vassili Zaitsev, thinking how much she would have loved to have had him here at the small gathering, worrying about how he was and if he was safe. His letters were few and far between, and Rivka was always concerned for the boy.
But she was distracted by the whisper of a soft baritone. Looking at Nikolai
she was astounded to hear the true, sweet clarity of his voice, word-perfect,
untrained but sound. As he sang quietly to himself, Nikolai thought of the words
of this last, poignant verse, and it made his chest ache with the memories of
sitting out on the steppes under heavy fire, mortars exploding nearby, blood
and bodies and death all around him. And he thought of his Rivka, the feel of
her lips and the love that burned in her heart.
Resting in our billets, just behind the lines
Even tho' we're parted, your lips are close to mine
You wait where that lantern softly gleams,
Your sweet face seems
To haunt my dreams
My Lili of the lamplight, my own Lili Marlene.
As the last words died away, the room became silent as each person remained for a moment with their memories … and there were unshed tears in every eye. Then Nikitin slapped Lubov gently on the back of the head, bringing a mock yelp from the lad. Nikitin cleared his throat and blinked back tears as he scowled at the young mechanic.
"See what you've done, you young bugger? Made everybody sad, that's what!"
Lubov was indignant as Nikitin's soft words brought a smile from the others.
"But Corp - "
"Don't 'But Corp' me, you little sod! Now, sing something cheerful, you hear me? Something to make everybody smile! All you did was make me think of me old Mum, and you know how I feel about that! You made me bloody homesick, you little Ukranian arse!"
Lubov grinned. Nikitin loved his 'old Mum', and he missed her dreadfully.
"All right, Corp … whatever you say …" And he launched into a bawdy song about a farmer and his cow.
Rivka leaned over and stroked Nikolai's face, and he turned glistening blue eyes to her.
"Are you all right, Niko? You're not too tired?"
He smiled back,
his lean face creasing with good humour.
"Nah. I'm fine, woman … just enjoying the song, that's all. It's one of my favourites, I must say. Makes me think of how it was when I was away from you … and how much I missed you." He squeezed her hand, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "You were all that kept me going, Rivka, thinking of you …"
Unable to speak for a moment she clasped his fingers and smiled. Then Nikolai chuckled as he listened to the song and the moment was past. Rivka came to sit on the arm of his chair and he gently pulled her down into his lap where he let her snuggle against his chest. His free hand lay on her belly, and they sat and enjoyed Lubov's spirited rendering of a banned Ukrainian street song.
As the last verse was sung lustily by almost everyone, Anna and Rivka giggling and blushing at the bawdy lyrics, Igor Danilov came to sit on the sofa beside Nikolai. He had cheered up somewhat and he grinned shyly, dark eyes now sparkling with merriment … no doubt helped along by a generous helping of vodka. As the song finished and the little crew of mechanics mercilessly teased young Lubov for knowing such a wicked song at his tender age, Rivka kissed Nikolai and stood up.
"I think it's time for some cake, don't you?"
Nikitin was on his feet in a moment.
"Well, Missus, I think that's just a wonderful idea! Come on you useless bunch of nothings, get your arses into gear and help the Missus get out some plates!"
As Rivka busied herself serving the rich fruit cake to her guests, Igor leaned towards Nikolai, his face now deadly serious. His voice was low, meant for Nikolai's ears only.
"We have a problem, Major."
Nikolai shifted in his chair. He was getting tired now, but he was enjoying himself so much he didn't want the evening to end … but the urgency in Danilov's voice made him sit up.
"What kind of problem?"
Igor glanced at Rivka, indicating that whatever he was about to say must not reach her ears.
"It's Gavri Velonin, Nikolai. I've been doing a little digging, calling in some favours from my associates in intelligence, and it seems Velonin's name is well-known to them."
Nikolai stiffened at the name. His gaunt face became set and grim.
"Why? Is he in some kind of trouble? It would be too much to ask that he's dead, the bugger couldn't make it that easy - then we wouldn't have to go through this bloody rigmarole …"
Igor shook his head.
"No, more's the pity. He's involved in black marketeering, Nikolai. He's in it up to his neck, and has been for several years. I've not told the NKVD about Rivka being his wife … I think you know why."
Nikolai nodded. If the NKVD knew about Rivka she would be taken in for questioning … and the fact that she was pregnant would not stop them from being 'enthusiastic' in their interrogation methods. Nikolai had to suppress a shudder. Igor saw the anger on Nikolai's face and touched his arm, reassuring him that Rivka wasn't involved and not wanting the big man to fret and delay his recovery.
"Don't worry, my friend - she's safe. But just to warn you that if they catch him he'll be put against a wall and shot, which to be honest wouldn't be such a bad idea. He's a nasty piece of work, Nikolai, and he's even more so now since he double-crossed his 'friends'. He's on the run. I've put out a few feelers … I have a couple of informants that can find out one or two things, but I thought I'd better let you know how things stand, all right?"
Nikolai's gut was churning. He looked at Rivka, seeing the sheer happiness on her face as she was surrounded by friends, her eyes shining with pleasure as Nikitin and his crew heaped praise on her cooking.
"She's my life, Igor … you know that, don't you? All I ever wanted, and I'll protect her to my last breath. If that stupid bastard gets himself killed that's fine by me, but I want Rivka left out of it … you understand?"
Igor Semyonovich Danilov patted Nikolai's arm, telling him that Rivka was safe and that he wasn't to worry.
"It'll be fine, Nikolai, I'm sure. I just wanted to let you know how things were going."
Nikolai looked at the honest face of the young political officer. He truthfully didn't know how safe Igor could make it for Rivka, but he knew he had to trust the lad.
"Thank you, boy. I'm grateful, believe me."
Igor smiled, the shyness once more back in his earnest face. He stood up and turned to the small gathering of friends, lifting his uniform jacket and slipping into it.
"I must be off - I'm expected at headquarters soon, and I have work to do."
Rivka's face fell.
"But it's late, Igor! It must be nearly midnight, lad, and you're off to work?"
Igor grinned at her.
"I must endeavour to spur the masses onward, Rivka, and make the defeat of the Nazi oppressors the epitome of class struggle … or something like that." He shrugged, eyebrows hitching in amusement. Murmuring his goodbyes to his compatriots, he congratulated Oleg and Anna on their forthcoming marriage, and turned to leave. But then he remembered something.
"Oh, I forgot. I have something for you, Nikolai … now, where was it? Ah! Yes, here it is …"
Reaching into his jacket pocket he pulled out a brown envelope and handed it to Nikolai, who took it, mystified. Igor lifted a hand in farewell, and let himself quietly out of the door into the cool of a misty April night.
As if on cue the rest of the assembly decided it was time to leave, and after saying their goodnights and Anna kissing Nikolai on the cheek and whispering a cheerful 'Happy Birthday' to him, they left Nikolai and Rivka to themselves.
Rivka began to clear away the cake plates and stacked them beside the washbowl and the newly-washed dinner plates, while Nikolai opened the envelope and read the contents. As she worked she suddenly heard a sharp hitch of Nikolai's breath, almost as though he was in pain. Instantly worried, she turned to see him sitting straight in his chair, the two sheets of paper trembling slightly as his hands shook.
"Niko?? Niko, what's wrong? Are you all - "
Nikolai looked up at her with such astonishment in his azure eyes her words died unsaid.
"Rivka …" He held out the sheet of paper. "Read this."
Nervously Rivka took them and sat down on the sofa to study the contents.
"Oh Niko … Oh my wonderful, clever Niko …" Her voice broke.
The first sheet was from Red Army headquarters, ordering Nikolai to report as soon as he was declared fit for duty, where he was to be put in charge of training selected recruits in sniping and covert operations. The second sheet was a commission, promoting Nikolai to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel in the 284th Rifle Division, with all accompanying benefits, pension and so forth, and notifying him of his increase in wages.
Nikolai didn't know what to say. They were letting him stay in the army. Not only that, but he was now Lieutenant Colonel Nikolai Koulikov, Hero of the Soviet Union, and proud husband-and-father-to-be. At that moment he didn't think life could get any better … until Rivka flew into his arms and kissed him until he was dizzy with the pleasure of it.
They clung to each other, this once-lonely woman and the battered and worn sniper, and kissed and hugged until they were breathless. Then Rivka snuggled down once more on his lap, and Nikolai held her close, breathing in her warm scent and stroking the child in her belly.
After a while he kissed the top of her head and peered down into her face as it lay against his chest.
"Missus …"
"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel Koulikov?" Her voice was warm with amusement.
"What does a man have to do around here to get a second helping of cake? I'm hungry, woman!"
Rivka lifted her head and arched an eyebrow at him.
"Hungry, is it? Well, my lad, it's about time!" her face softened as she kissed him on the end of the nose. "Happy birthday, my Niko. You deserve it, love. You deserve it more than anyone I know, and I love you, you big fool! Now then, you sit there while I get you some cake …"
As he watched his woman get up off his lap and cut him a piece of cake, Lieutenant Colonel Nikolai Koulikov was quite sure that he was the happiest man in the world.
**********************