Dmitri was escorted to the headquarters by two signal soldiers, walking one after the other through the ruins.
Major Gavrilov greeted him politely, motioning for him to sit in a chair. He handed Dmitri a glass of water. "Relax, Private," he said gently. "I just have a few questions to clarify. It's good for all of us."
"Yes, Major," Dmitri replied, still nervously glancing at Instructor Artur standing nearby, a faint smugness on his face that suggested Dmitri's troubles weren't over yet.
"Your suggestion was excellent," Major Gavrilov continued, pacing slowly. "I mean the 500 meters. Using your idea, we repelled the Germans' last attack."
"That's just my duty, Comrade Major," Dmitri said humbly.
Indeed, it was. If the German attack had not been stopped, Dmitri himself might not have survived.
"But…" Major Gavrilov's tone grew serious. "How do you know so much about the German equipment? Even the range of their 50mm mortars… their submachine gun numbers?"
Dmitri froze for a brief moment, realizing the implication. At this point in the war, no ordinary Soviet soldier could possibly know these details. In the eyes of the command, he could easily be labeled a German spy.
Quickly recovering, he frowned thoughtfully. "I learned it from a Pole, Comrade Major."
"A Pole?" Gavrilov raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, Comrade Major," Dmitri continued smoothly. "His name is Sergiak. He speaks some Russian. We spoke briefly… and he shared what he knew. I don't know how he got such information."
Though simple, Dmitri's explanation carried weight without giving too much away. By leaving certain details vague, it appeared natural and plausible.
Both Gavrilov and the instructor exchanged glances and subtly nodded. The emphasis on "a Pole" was key.
Poland had been divided between Germany and the Soviet Union after the invasion in 1939. Poles actively resisted the Germans, so it was plausible for one to know German weaponry. Moreover, Polish resistance fighters sometimes sought refuge in Soviet-controlled areas to avoid German pursuit. Appearing in Brest was not suspicious.
Additionally, Russian and Polish share similarities roughly forty percent of the languages overlap so even someone unfamiliar with Russian could communicate basic information. Everything made sense on the surface, especially with a proper name attached.
What Major Gavrilov and the instructor didn't know was that Dmitri had fabricated most of this story.
"Very well, Dmitri," Gavrilov continued, resuming his pacing. "What else did he say? Anything of value?"
Dmitri seized the opportunity. "Yes, Comrade Major. He said… the Germans cannot be trusted. Any treaty signed with them is meaningless. Sooner or later, they will attack, and it will be a full-scale offensive."
Dmitri felt a pang of guilt, knowing he was repeating someone else's words but he needed them to be heard.
Major Gavrilov paused, a wry, almost imperceptible smile crossing his face. Dmitri recognized it immediately it was a silent acknowledgment of a truth the major had known for some time. Before the war, Gavrilov had often warned that Germany, the dangerous neighbor across the Bug River, could act without warning, disregarding any agreements. Hitler could break any treaty, even one with the Soviet Union.
For an experienced officer, this was a reasonable deduction. But the higher Soviet authorities disagreed. They believed Germany would not attack while engaged with the United Kingdom. Any suggestion to the contrary was forbidden, and officers could be reported for spreading "panic" or "false predictions."
Indeed, Major Gavrilov had once been charged for exactly that predicted war against Germany and supposedly caused unrest among the troops. He was scheduled for review on the 27th, but the outbreak of German invasion on June 22nd rendered the charges absurd and saved him from punishment.
"Nonsense!" the instructor snapped. "If that is the case, why didn't you report it to your superiors? This is critical intelligence! We are being attacked by the Germans now!"
"Comrade Instructor," Dmitri replied, feigning innocence, "I thought it was just the ramblings of a Pole. You know, the Poles want us to fight the Germans. And…"
He left the sentence hanging. Everyone understood without more words. Any report to the authorities could have endangered Major Gavrilov further.
Major Gavrilov simply nodded, a silent acknowledgment of their shared understanding. In that moment, he and Dmitri were allies in subtle defiance.
"So…" Major Gavrilov said, lowering his voice, "you told your comrades that 'the battle isn't over so soon' and advised them to 'prepare mentally'?"
Dmitri's eyes widened. That was exactly what he had said to Okunev barely ten minutes ago.
Okunev had never left Dmitri's sight, so he couldn't have reported him. Someone else had tipped off the command someone who noticed his words. That was why he was here in the headquarters.
Dmitri felt a chill, but it was not unusual. Small reports were common in the Soviet army. Some officers gained promotion by filing them. The most infamous was Lev Mekhlis director of the General Political Department, known as the "King of Small Reports."
"Comrade Dmitri!" Instructor Artur's voice rose with agitation. "You must understand that, by emphasizing to the soldiers that reinforcements are coming tomorrow, you are spreading 'the battle isn't over yet' and similar rumors. Do you realize the seriousness of this? It can damage morale. This behavior is extremely dangerous and utterly irresponsible!"
Dmitri remained silent, knowing words would only worsen the situation. All he could do was wait and think carefully about his next move.