Chapter 177: Polish Campaign (40)

Resisting the fear in his heart, Yezhov drafted a victory report to be sent to Moscow. Of course, he did not dare to exaggerate too much, just saying that after a fierce battle, they broke through part of the Polish army's defense line, and they could march straight in after the troops had rested.

After writing this beautifully written and wonderful report, he gritted his teeth and signed it below, and handed it to Voroshilov opposite.

"Comrade Yezhov, is it really appropriate for us to do this?" Voroshilov took the report with some trembling, feeling like holding his own death warrant, and wanted to throw it away.

No leader would tolerate his subordinates deceiving themselves, let alone an iron-fisted leader like Stalin; once their lies were exposed, I am afraid there would be no room for negotiation.

Yezhov sighed deeply. "Marshal Voroshilov, we are now on the same page. You don't want to, do you? I shouldn't have come to this place." With his relationship with the leader, Stalin would not force him as long as he found a small excuse. As a result, he ran over without knowing the height of the world, and fell into such a dilemma.

That's right, Voroshilov felt that what he said was reasonable. After all, if he didn't come here, he would still be a big man who could call the wind and rain in Moscow. But come if you want to, you have to grab the military power to show off your non-existent military talent, and now you are in such an embarrassing situation.

Picking up the pen, tremblingly signed his name, only to feel that he was exhausted as if he had been drained of energy after signing, and he almost couldn't even stand. "Then I'll leave the rest to Comrade Yezhov. I'll go back and rest for a while."

Watching Voroshilov staggering out, Yezhov sighed again, called his confidant, and sent the report with a top-secret seal to Moscow. After sending away his confidant, he returned to his room, fell straight on the bed, and prayed to all the gods in his heart.

Sure enough, Stalin, who received this report, was very pleased. He praised the two of them by name at the subsequent meeting, awarded them medals, and even prepared to hold seminars in major military regions to discuss this victory. Moscow newspapers also publicized this hard-won great victory.

But Voroshilov and Yezhov could not be happy at all. After all, the land occupied in the illusory victory was still trampled under the feet of the Poles. They had to find a way to take it down as soon as possible to save their lives.

At this time, something unexpected happened.

The Spanish government, which had been fighting with the Soviet Union these days, suddenly published an article "Illusory Victory" in the newspaper. The title of the article seems very plain and nothing shocking; the article begins with a quote from the so-called victory news in the Moscow newspaper, followed by the actual battle situation witnessed by the Spanish war correspondents on the scene.

In his words, the Soviets on the other side were simply cooperating with the Polish defenders to fight this battle. When the Poles were afraid to retreat, the Soviets attacked blindly and were beaten back home, giving Poland the courage to resist; when the Poles were weak and helpless, the Soviets were in chaos and wasted opportunities, giving the Poles a chance to breathe; when the Poles were ready to fight, the Soviets washed their faces and came up again.

If the situation in the rear of the Poles was not tense, with their virtue, let alone breaking through the Polish defense line, it is not impossible to be annihilated.

At the end of the article, Stalin was satirized in a very humorous and sarcastic tone, mocking him as the stupidest leader in Russian history, who was foolishly awarded medals after being fooled around by his own men.

Although there is no Soviet embassy in Spain, there is still a consulate. The chief consul was really shocked when he saw this newspaper, and immediately sent the content of the newspaper back to the diplomatic department at home. Although Foreign Minister Molotov, who received the report, felt incredible, he still did not dare to delay and hurried to the Kremlin to meet Stalin. He was in such a hurry because of his own selfish motives. He didn't have a good relationship with Yezhov and he didn't like him. Now that the news was confirmed, Yezhov would be doomed.

As soon as he entered the Kremlin, he met Stalin's personal secretary and hurriedly called him. "Comrade Anatoly, where is Comrade Leader now? I have something urgent to report to him."

Anatole showed an embarrassed look. "Comrade Minister, the great Comrade Leader is having a meal. You also know that he doesn't like to be disturbed at this time."

"I know, I know. But this matter is extremely urgent and can't be delayed!" Molotov took out the telegram from his bag with an anxious look and handed it to Anatoly. "Take a look?!"

Anatole waved his hands hurriedly. "Comrade Minister, how can I read these documents? This is against the rules. Since you said it is an important matter, then I can ask for instructions, but if Comrade Leader doesn't meet you, then I can't do anything."

Molotov nodded hurriedly. "Please."

The two came to Stalin's office. Anatoly asked them to wait for a while, knocked on the door gently, and walked in.

After a while, the door opened again, and Anatoly inside the door signaled Molotov to go in.

Molotov nodded to express his gratitude and walked into the office quickly. Anatoly took him to another small restaurant connected to the office.

Stalin, who was chewing sausage, saw Molotov come in, raised the fork in his hand and pointed to the chair opposite, motioning him to sit down. After swallowing the food in his mouth, he kindly instructed. "Prepare a breakfast for our comrade Vyacheslav."

"Yes." Anatoly bowed and left the small restaurant. Molotov couldn't wait to mention it. "Great leader comrade, something big has happened!"

"Oh? What's the matter?" Stalin seemed to be in a good mood. He drank a mouthful of porridge without panic, and then asked slowly.

Molotov respectfully handed the telegram to Stalin. "Please take a look."

"What is this?" At first, Stalin's expression did not change. When he read half of it, his expression gradually became solemn, and at the end, the muscles on his face trembled unnaturally a few times.

Putting down the fork in his hand, thinking for a while, Stalin asked. "Comrade Vyacheslav, what do you think about this?"

"..." This question stumped Molotov. He was not a clairvoyant, so how could he know what was happening on the front line? After hesitating for a while, he spoke cautiously. "Comrade Leader, there is a saying in the Ming Dynasty that 'it is better to believe it than not to believe it'. Although these Spaniards are very hateful, I don't think they will make it up." The best evidence is the 560 tons of gold, but this matter has become a taboo topic in the Kremlin, and he is not stupid enough to say it several times to offend Stalin.

At this time, Anatoly brought in a breakfast, and Stalin ordered him. "Let Comrade Mikhail come." Mikhail was his captain of the guards, and it could be said that he was one of the people he trusted the most.

A young man in his thirties walked in a while later. Although he was not wearing a military uniform, it was not difficult to see his voice from his straight waist and capable walking posture. He exuded a reliable and trustworthy temperament.

The young man saluted Stalin. "Leader, what do you want?"

"Take a team and go to the front to see if Yezhov's report is true. If he lied..."

Stalin tapped the table lightly with his fingers, thinking about something, and gave the order after a while. "Bring him and Voroshilov here, go."

"Yes!" The young man saluted again and turned to leave.