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Vignettes from Barb’s ancestral past

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I don’t know why those stuck up Brits always have to make such a middle of things. Why not have just one line?
Both companies merged in 1934.;)

The short story is inspired by another old thread :

 
No one understood, why Pamela Moore, a cousin of Barbara Moore, desperately wanted to travel to Europe. It was 1915. There was a war going on at the other side of the Atlantic. A journey at sea had become deadly dangerous, because of submarine warfare and mines all around, which all did not check a ship’s flag before coming into action.

But cousin Pamela was undoubtedly endowed with the stubbornness, characteristic for the Moore women.

“I want to see Paris, before the Huns have burned it down!” cousin Pamela had firmly stated. “And then, I got to Italy! That country is not at war! I want to see the Antique and Renaissance art treasures, before I start raising a family, since there will no more be time for travel, then! And I cannot wait for years anymore!”

So, niece Pamela left New York on May 2nd 1915, a little bit disappointed, since she had wanted to depart a day earlier and on RMS Lusitania. But her cousin Barbara, who had helped her at the booking, had confused Cunard with White Star line, and so, Pamela travelled on a smaller liner from the latter company.

On May 10th 1915, the Moore family got a cable that niece Pamela had safely arrived at Le Havre, France.

On May 21nd 1915, another cable : “Paris was wonderful! I leave with a night train to Italy this evening!”

On May 23rd 1915, Italy declared war to the Central Powers.

No more news had been received from cousin Pamela since.

The Moore family obviously got worried. Through diplomatic ways, they tried to find out what had happened. In vain, unfortunately.

Things worsened of course, as the war drew on, and the US joined the Allies. Because, actually, the only hint they got, was a message from a certain Mr. Theodore Henry Tree, a high official from the American Embassy in Paris, who recalled that, in May 1915, a certain Miss Pamela Moore had informed about getting a visa for a week in Vienna. She would thereby travel through neutral Italy. Mr. Tree recalled having warned her that tension was building up between Italy and Austria-Hungary, but that Miss Moore had insisted she would like to visit Vienna. He could however not confirm that she had really made the trip.

Was Pamela stuck in Vienna, the border with Italy being closed behind her? But she was an American, it would take almost two years before the US was at war with Austria? It still would have been possible for her to return to Italy or France across Switzerland?

The other worrying element was a piece of propaganda, the attention of the Moore family had been drawn on, after the US had joined the war against the Central Powers. A propaganda piece, depicting cousin Pamela as a victim of war atrocities, allegedly committed by the Austrian Army.

Finally, the war ended, and in the summer of 1919, as soon as a peace treaty had been signed, Barbara Moore took on a voyage to Europe, hoping to find out what had happened to her cousin Pamela. Her first destination was the embassy in Paris for a meeting with Mr. Tree, and next, an address in Montmartre, where she was received by an artist.

“This is a work from your hand, Monsieur?”

“Sure, mademoiselle, I recall her clearly. I met her at the Lapin Agile. A remarkable woman! Pablo, who incidentally was in Paris, immediately fell on her! He had a strange influence on her!”

“What do you mean, Monsieur?”

“In a few days, he has turned her from a somewhat conservative, although adventurous American young woman, into an activist determined to help ending the war, and in such a way to create a better world. She has turned to an ideology, which has evolved to what we call now, and fear now : Bolshevism!”

“We have been told, she wanted to Vienna!”

“It is possible. She saw the Double Monarchy as the weakest link of the old world. If it would fall, the rest of Europe would go down with it, and on its ruins, the proletarian paradise would be built up!”

“So it is not impossible, that she has joined a clandestine Bolshevik movement, to start agitation against the Austrian government!”

“Is it possible, Mademoiselle Moore, and that she got arrested by Austrian police! It was war, Mademoiselle! Such agitators were mostly executed for high treason! Pole hanging.”

Barbara shivered. That Mr. Tree in the embassy had also coined that option, although he was not aware of cousin Pamela’s alleged ‘conversion’ to Bolshevism. Mr. Tree had explained with more detail how it went. Mostly, the trials were by court martial, with little communication of verdicts to the public! Sentenced inside prison, and immediately getting walked to the hanging pole. No more words or time wasted! There was a row of poles in the prison courtyard. The condemned were stripped naked, put with their back against a pole, hands tied in front. A thin noose, attached to a rope running over a pulley on top of the pole, was put over their neck. Then, the rope was pulled from behind, and the condemned was slowly strangulated. Their minutes long banging of their feet and legs against the pole, reechoed loudly against the walls of the courtyard, and could be heard by all prisoners in their cells. A nasty prospect for those whose trial was scheduled for the next days. Mr. Tree had told it with an unmistakable Arkansas accent, making it sound even more morbid. But, as he had said, there were no indications that there had been a Pamela Moore executed that way.

“According to sources, this drawing, made by you, was based on finds of similar drawings in Austria. It is told, they depict real facts, real atrocities, committed during the war!? Could this cruelty have been the fate of my cousin? That’s really her, on this drawing, there is no doubt about it”

“No, Mademoiselle! Your cousin has most likely not been crucified! Actually, permit me to tell, that your cousin had a somewhat… strange kink, as they call it. She insisted to act as a model for me..”

“A model, Monsieur Steinlen?”

“Yes, Mademoiselle Moore. She insisted on posing naked for me, posing like a crucified woman, in different positions! It excited her, really. When she left to Italy, she has taken a few drawings of her with. She has paid me for them! It looks like, at least one of the drawings has been separated from her and has appeared somewhere in Austria. Aparently it has started its own life. That story that the find in Austria depicts a real crucifixion of a woman in Serbia is false! All the drawings have been made here, by me! What does it tell about her real fate, I don’t know!? With the copy I had kept with me, I wanted to make a ‘Crucified Belgium’, but then, the invasion of Serbia occurred, and depicting her as a crucified Serbia better suited the propaganda needs of the moment!”


View attachment 911254 (Théophile-Alexandre Steinlen (1859-1923) : 'Crucified Serbia' (1916)).
The story behind Lox's avatar! You heard it first here! :)
 
Reading notices like that is like reading small print ... such a bother!
You're right, nobody reads such completely superfluous things and if everything goes wrong at least the lawyers are happy.
 
Ranks right up there with “this bottle of elixir will prevent aging.”:rolleyes:
A joke I heard years ago: someone broke the border fence between heaven and hell. The devil sends a telegram to heaven: "You have to pay this damage, our lawyers have already prepared a lawsuit." After a long time the answer comes: "We will have to pay. We have searched several times, but unfortunately there is not a single lawyer to be found in all of heaven."
 
The previous vignette is not yet finished ::attention:

What happened to Pamela Moore?:rota2:

Will Barb find her cousin alive?:sherlock:

Will Barb become a Bolshevik too?:fighting02:

Will Bolshevik Comrades Pamela and Barb make Minnesota a red state?:roto2qtemeto:

Will Theodore Henry Tree become US ambassador in London:chuck: (or is his next assignment Ulan Bator?)?:BangHead:


Coming soon!:icon_popcorn:
 
The previous vignette is not yet finished ::attention:

What happened to Pamela Moore?:rota2:

Will Barb find her cousin alive?:sherlock:

Will Barb become a Bolshevik too?:fighting02:

Will Bolshevik Comrades Pamela and Barb make Minnesota a red state?:roto2qtemeto:

Will Theodore Henry Tree become US ambassador in London:chuck: (or is his next assignment Ulan Bator?)?:BangHead:


Coming soon!:icon_popcorn:
Organ music swelling to a crescendo ...
 
Saratov, Soviet Russia, the summer of 1920.

“They told us to wait here! Pam!? What are we doing in the basement of this warehouse?”

“No idea! I…”

“Oh, Pam! Look here! That canvas! What a scene! It looks like a painting of Nero’s Circus in Rome during the persecution of Christians! Look! All these crucified people! A pity it is so damaged! It must have been huge and impressive!”

“Religion is opium for the people, Comrade cousin! The church is the accomplice of capitalism in the oppression of the working classes! I do not give a damn that this evil piece of bourgeois propaganda lays here torn apart!”

“Crucifixion was a kink of you, I have been told?”

“I…”

“Pamela! Honestly, I don’t know what annoys me the most : that you brought shame to our family by posing naked for an artist, in such crucifixion poses, or by becoming a Bolshevik?”

“Now listen, Comrade Cousin,…..”

“Pam! Stop that Bolshevik mumbo-jumbo, and just call me Barb, will you!?”

“Calling one by name is sign of an intolerable lack of discipline in the struggle of the classes!”

“I don’t care about the struggle of the classes, Pam! You see where it brought us! In some damp basement, crowded with strangers! Is that the Bolshevist standard of housing? Rather lousy, to my humble opinion!”

“These are all counter-revolutionaries, bourgeois and class enemies, Comr...”

“It’s ‘Barb’! Now, thank your so called comrades for showing them, Pam! Now listen, cousin, I undertook this journey to get you back alive to Minnesota! That’s where you belong! There is at least one US diplomat who risked his career to get me here! I have traveled all the way here, even across war zones! Now just get reasonable, go to tell your Bolshevik friends, or comrades, or whatever you call them, that you have done your share to make that revolution here a success! Just tell them…. Promise them you will make Minnesota a red state too! Would not they like it? A red state amidst the US?”

They were interrupted by a section of guards entering the basement. They wore a variety of grey uniforms, the only thing they had in common was a red star on their caps. On command of their captain, they opened some of the doors and let the prisoners out. Then, the captain gave a short speech.



“Well spoken!” Pam said.

“Pam! What is he telling!?”

“He says : all right, you bunch of wicked tsarists, traitors, spies, counter-revolutionaries, bourgeois, and class enemies! The revolutionary court has decided to eliminate you all!”

“What is going to happen to them?”

“They will be shot, Barb!”

Pam stepped forward, apparently congratulating the captain. But she got a gun pointed to her and was ordered to step back.

“It seems to me, Pam, that your Bolshevik comrades have other plans with you! With us!!”

“Oh! Shit!”

“And to what class do they rank us, Pamela, dear? Counter-revolutionary bourgeois class enemies?”

“Maybe…”

“What are you going to do now, Comrade Pam!?”

“So, then it has to happen! Martyrdom! A sacrifice for the Great Proletarian Revolution! I submit to the will of Comrade Lenin!”

Another order sounded. The people around them started to take off clothes.

“Barb! We have to strip naked!”

“Yikes!? Here!? With all these strangers? Showing my tight little to these Bolshevik savages!”

“Do it! It is an order!?”

“Otherwise, I get shot, I suppose!? Geeze, Pam, what did these Bolsheviks do to you!? You were the rebel of the family!? No one had to tell you what to do? And now you blindly obey any order!?”

“If The Revolution wants me to strip in public! I do it! The higher goal is more important than my individual modesty!” Pam said, with a hint of pride.

“Pam, the fine print of that Bolshevism of yours is really weird!”

The people around them were taking off their clothes. Silently, calmly, in thoughts. All knew what was going to happen to them, and they seemed to accept their fate. They arranged their clothes in an orderly way, and then waited. All under the eyes of the guards.

The condemned were of all ages, from young people, hardly over eighteen, to people in their seventies. Some had shown their former wealth, by their clothing, but they were together with their servants, who clearly were guilty by association with their masters. They prepared themselves together, as if the prospect of death had erased all class differences.

Meanwhile, Barb had carefully taken off her clothes, closely following Pam’s undressing. When it was finished, she joined the others, a little bit embarrassed. Since it was not warm in the basement, the naked prisoners crowded together, and Barb found it comfortable to set aside her embarrassment and seek shelter amidst them too, as the best way to hide nudity was to join a group of naked people.

An order was shouted. Pam translated : “Five!”

Somewhat hesitating, five naked prisoners moved forward. All men. Accompanied by guards, they took a corridor. About a minute later, gunshots thundered through the basement, immensely scaring the remaining prisoners. Then, the calm turned again. Waiting.

Finally, the guards returned and shouted again : “Five!”

Five more prisoners moved on. Two couples, holding each other’s hand, and an older man. Soon after they had vanished, shots resounded.

The now naked maid servant was sitting on a bench, clearly nervous.

“Five!”

The maid’s former matron proposed the maid to join her. One of the guards helped her up and accompanied the anxious maid during her final walk. A mother in her fifties and her daughter also followed.

Shots resounded.

Gradually, the group of prisoners became smaller.

There were only ten left now.

“Five!”

“Barb!?”

“Mhh!?”

“Let’s go!” Pam said and stepped forward.

“What’s the hurry, Pam!?”

“The accounts of The Great Proletarian Revolution will not recall me as a coward who waited till the last! Let’s go now, the two of us, together!” and she grabbed Barb’s arm.”

“Pam! This is ridiculous! I have no intention to become someone’s martyr at all!”

A nearby guard pushed Barb forward, saying something in Russian.

“What’s he saying, Pam?”

“He says : ‘You! Stop complaining and move your lazy tight little’!”

“I have issued demerits for less to people speaking like that about my tight little!” Barb said, while following Pam.

“Just walk, Barb!”

Barb and Pam followed the group through the corridor. They were accompanied by a man of around fifty, a blonde woman in her thirties and her husband.

They space they were guided into, looked rather ruinous. At the wall opposite to the entry, were wooden panels. There was water on the concrete floor, they had to walk over wooden pallets. Underneath them, the water coloured blood red. The pallets next to the wooden panels were also stained with blood. There was a smell of gun powder

They had to face the wooden panels. They did so in silence, even without being given the order. First the husband, then the blonde woman, then Pam, next Barb and finally the man in his fifties.

Barb heard rustling behind her. They were preparing to shoot.

In a last attempt, she turned around. Facing the guards, who were already pointing their pistol to their victim’s necks.

“Listen, you! My offer to make Minnesota a red state still stands!”

The officer shouted at her.

“Barb! That does not work!” Pam said.

“But can’t we make a deal about it? It will suit your revolution, with a foothold in the US?”

The officer summoned her to face the wall again.

“Barb! Stop it!?”

“If you are not interested in Minnesota, we can still try Arkansas! They are more of your Bolshevik intellectual level there!”

The officer clearly got annoyed.

“Barb! Please!? Do not upset them! I want to have it done with a clean shot!”

“Pam! Better support me!”

The officer gesticulated violently with his pistol to summon Barb to face the wall, causing it to fire inadvertently. A dust cloud erupted from the ceiling, and one of the guards went down, in pain, grabbing his leg.

“Now look what you have done, you bungler!” Barb said “you shot one of your own in his foot! And you folks pretend you can conquer the world with your revolution?”

***

Two hours later, in a street in Saratov.



“Thanks, Barb!”

“Stop complaining, Pam! You had a kink for crucifixion, we got crucified, you got what you desired!”

“Crucified naked in public, like a Christian martyr! What a downfall for a Bolshevik revolutionary!”

“Shut up and suffer, Pam!”
 
Saratov, Soviet Russia, the summer of 1920.

“They told us to wait here! Pam!? What are we doing in the basement of this warehouse?”

“No idea! I…”

“Oh, Pam! Look here! That canvas! What a scene! It looks like a painting of Nero’s Circus in Rome during the persecution of Christians! Look! All these crucified people! A pity it is so damaged! It must have been huge and impressive!”

“Religion is opium for the people, Comrade cousin! The church is the accomplice of capitalism in the oppression of the working classes! I do not give a damn that this evil piece of bourgeois propaganda lays here torn apart!”

“Crucifixion was a kink of you, I have been told?”

“I…”

“Pamela! Honestly, I don’t know what annoys me the most : that you brought shame to our family by posing naked for an artist, in such crucifixion poses, or by becoming a Bolshevik?”

“Now listen, Comrade Cousin,…..”

“Pam! Stop that Bolshevik mumbo-jumbo, and just call me Barb, will you!?”

“Calling one by name is sign of an intolerable lack of discipline in the struggle of the classes!”

“I don’t care about the struggle of the classes, Pam! You see where it brought us! In some damp basement, crowded with strangers! Is that the Bolshevist standard of housing? Rather lousy, to my humble opinion!”

“These are all counter-revolutionaries, bourgeois and class enemies, Comr...”

“It’s ‘Barb’! Now, thank your so called comrades for showing them, Pam! Now listen, cousin, I undertook this journey to get you back alive to Minnesota! That’s where you belong! There is at least one US diplomat who risked his career to get me here! I have traveled all the way here, even across war zones! Now just get reasonable, go to tell your Bolshevik friends, or comrades, or whatever you call them, that you have done your share to make that revolution here a success! Just tell them…. Promise them you will make Minnesota a red state too! Would not they like it? A red state amidst the US?”

They were interrupted by a section of guards entering the basement. They wore a variety of grey uniforms, the only thing they had in common was a red star on their caps. On command of their captain, they opened some of the doors and let the prisoners out. Then, the captain gave a short speech.



“Well spoken!” Pam said.

“Pam! What is he telling!?”

“He says : all right, you bunch of wicked tsarists, traitors, spies, counter-revolutionaries, bourgeois, and class enemies! The revolutionary court has decided to eliminate you all!”

“What is going to happen to them?”

“They will be shot, Barb!”

Pam stepped forward, apparently congratulating the captain. But she got a gun pointed to her and was ordered to step back.

“It seems to me, Pam, that your Bolshevik comrades have other plans with you! With us!!”

“Oh! Shit!”

“And to what class do they rank us, Pamela, dear? Counter-revolutionary bourgeois class enemies?”

“Maybe…”

“What are you going to do now, Comrade Pam!?”

“So, then it has to happen! Martyrdom! A sacrifice for the Great Proletarian Revolution! I submit to the will of Comrade Lenin!”

Another order sounded. The people around them started to take off clothes.

“Barb! We have to strip naked!”

“Yikes!? Here!? With all these strangers? Showing my tight little to these Bolshevik savages!”

“Do it! It is an order!?”

“Otherwise, I get shot, I suppose!? Geeze, Pam, what did these Bolsheviks do to you!? You were the rebel of the family!? No one had to tell you what to do? And now you blindly obey any order!?”

“If The Revolution wants me to strip in public! I do it! The higher goal is more important than my individual modesty!” Pam said, with a hint of pride.

“Pam, the fine print of that Bolshevism of yours is really weird!”

The people around them were taking off their clothes. Silently, calmly, in thoughts. All knew what was going to happen to them, and they seemed to accept their fate. They arranged their clothes in an orderly way, and then waited. All under the eyes of the guards.

The condemned were of all ages, from young people, hardly over eighteen, to people in their seventies. Some had shown their former wealth, by their clothing, but they were together with their servants, who clearly were guilty by association with their masters. They prepared themselves together, as if the prospect of death had erased all class differences.

Meanwhile, Barb had carefully taken off her clothes, closely following Pam’s undressing. When it was finished, she joined the others, a little bit embarrassed. Since it was not warm in the basement, the naked prisoners crowded together, and Barb found it comfortable to set aside her embarrassment and seek shelter amidst them too, as the best way to hide nudity was to join a group of naked people.

An order was shouted. Pam translated : “Five!”

Somewhat hesitating, five naked prisoners moved forward. All men. Accompanied by guards, they took a corridor. About a minute later, gunshots thundered through the basement, immensely scaring the remaining prisoners. Then, the calm turned again. Waiting.

Finally, the guards returned and shouted again : “Five!”

Five more prisoners moved on. Two couples, holding each other’s hand, and an older man. Soon after they had vanished, shots resounded.

The now naked maid servant was sitting on a bench, clearly nervous.

“Five!”

The maid’s former matron proposed the maid to join her. One of the guards helped her up and accompanied the anxious maid during her final walk. A mother in her fifties and her daughter also followed.

Shots resounded.

Gradually, the group of prisoners became smaller.

There were only ten left now.

“Five!”

“Barb!?”

“Mhh!?”

“Let’s go!” Pam said and stepped forward.

“What’s the hurry, Pam!?”

“The accounts of The Great Proletarian Revolution will not recall me as a coward who waited till the last! Let’s go now, the two of us, together!” and she grabbed Barb’s arm.”

“Pam! This is ridiculous! I have no intention to become someone’s martyr at all!”

A nearby guard pushed Barb forward, saying something in Russian.

“What’s he saying, Pam?”

“He says : ‘You! Stop complaining and move your lazy tight little’!”

“I have issued demerits for less to people speaking like that about my tight little!” Barb said, while following Pam.

“Just walk, Barb!”

Barb and Pam followed the group through the corridor. They were accompanied by a man of around fifty, a blonde woman in her thirties and her husband.

They space they were guided into, looked rather ruinous. At the wall opposite to the entry, were wooden panels. There was water on the concrete floor, they had to walk over wooden pallets. Underneath them, the water coloured blood red. The pallets next to the wooden panels were also stained with blood. There was a smell of gun powder

They had to face the wooden panels. They did so in silence, even without being given the order. First the husband, then the blonde woman, then Pam, next Barb and finally the man in his fifties.

Barb heard rustling behind her. They were preparing to shoot.

In a last attempt, she turned around. Facing the guards, who were already pointing their pistol to their victim’s necks.

“Listen, you! My offer to make Minnesota a red state still stands!”

The officer shouted at her.

“Barb! That does not work!” Pam said.

“But can’t we make a deal about it? It will suit your revolution, with a foothold in the US?”

The officer summoned her to face the wall again.

“Barb! Stop it!?”

“If you are not interested in Minnesota, we can still try Arkansas! They are more of your Bolshevik intellectual level there!”

The officer clearly got annoyed.

“Barb! Please!? Do not upset them! I want to have it done with a clean shot!”

“Pam! Better support me!”

The officer gesticulated violently with his pistol to summon Barb to face the wall, causing it to fire inadvertently. A dust cloud erupted from the ceiling, and one of the guards went down, in pain, grabbing his leg.

“Now look what you have done, you bungler!” Barb said “you shot one of your own in his foot! And you folks pretend you can conquer the world with your revolution?”

***

Two hours later, in a street in Saratov.



“Thanks, Barb!”

“Stop complaining, Pam! You had a kink for crucifixion, we got crucified, you got what you desired!”

“Crucified naked in public, like a Christian martyr! What a downfall for a Bolshevik revolutionary!”

“Shut up and suffer, Pam!”
OMG ... sensational story and dialogue. Seems you’ve seen the film “Chekists”, haven’t you? Walking that plank naked and lining up against that wooden wall to be shot ... the very idea of having to do that as in the film gives me shivers ... and here you’ve recreated it. Very entertaining!

A4A2B31C-CD4E-4501-B340-F4F0D5ADD9A9.jpeg14AAF212-8CC4-4069-B4B8-C027AEB5BFAF.png1AA72BD9-0CE6-4BD0-BA62-3BD1CD1CEBF5.jpeg0468AC79-C8A6-4CB9-B43C-1516FB286BB3.jpeg8510D4E4-54C2-48AF-87EB-33B2FA33D4B3.jpeg244D555D-0F0D-43AD-A9D8-CBADCAB9C69D.jpeg1067F863-0954-4909-A537-DD74CAEFA610.jpeg10F276DA-49CA-4953-8942-5F7EBA9E977B.jpeg
 
Yet Napoleon’s heart belonged elsewhere, as he revealed in that timeless sonnet:

Waterloo! I was defeated, you won the war...
Waterloo! Promised to love you forever Moore.
Reminds me of Nappy's famous lament when he was first exiled, reputed to be the longest English palindrome that makes sense.
"Able was I ere I saw Elba"​
 
Saratov, Soviet Russia, the summer of 1920.

“They told us to wait here! Pam!? What are we doing in the basement of this warehouse?”

“No idea! I…”

“Oh, Pam! Look here! That canvas! What a scene! It looks like a painting of Nero’s Circus in Rome during the persecution of Christians! Look! All these crucified people! A pity it is so damaged! It must have been huge and impressive!”

“Religion is opium for the people, Comrade cousin! The church is the accomplice of capitalism in the oppression of the working classes! I do not give a damn that this evil piece of bourgeois propaganda lays here torn apart!”

“Crucifixion was a kink of you, I have been told?”

“I…”

“Pamela! Honestly, I don’t know what annoys me the most : that you brought shame to our family by posing naked for an artist, in such crucifixion poses, or by becoming a Bolshevik?”

“Now listen, Comrade Cousin,…..”

“Pam! Stop that Bolshevik mumbo-jumbo, and just call me Barb, will you!?”

“Calling one by name is sign of an intolerable lack of discipline in the struggle of the classes!”

“I don’t care about the struggle of the classes, Pam! You see where it brought us! In some damp basement, crowded with strangers! Is that the Bolshevist standard of housing? Rather lousy, to my humble opinion!”

“These are all counter-revolutionaries, bourgeois and class enemies, Comr...”

“It’s ‘Barb’! Now, thank your so called comrades for showing them, Pam! Now listen, cousin, I undertook this journey to get you back alive to Minnesota! That’s where you belong! There is at least one US diplomat who risked his career to get me here! I have traveled all the way here, even across war zones! Now just get reasonable, go to tell your Bolshevik friends, or comrades, or whatever you call them, that you have done your share to make that revolution here a success! Just tell them…. Promise them you will make Minnesota a red state too! Would not they like it? A red state amidst the US?”

They were interrupted by a section of guards entering the basement. They wore a variety of grey uniforms, the only thing they had in common was a red star on their caps. On command of their captain, they opened some of the doors and let the prisoners out. Then, the captain gave a short speech.



“Well spoken!” Pam said.

“Pam! What is he telling!?”

“He says : all right, you bunch of wicked tsarists, traitors, spies, counter-revolutionaries, bourgeois, and class enemies! The revolutionary court has decided to eliminate you all!”

“What is going to happen to them?”

“They will be shot, Barb!”

Pam stepped forward, apparently congratulating the captain. But she got a gun pointed to her and was ordered to step back.

“It seems to me, Pam, that your Bolshevik comrades have other plans with you! With us!!”

“Oh! Shit!”

“And to what class do they rank us, Pamela, dear? Counter-revolutionary bourgeois class enemies?”

“Maybe…”

“What are you going to do now, Comrade Pam!?”

“So, then it has to happen! Martyrdom! A sacrifice for the Great Proletarian Revolution! I submit to the will of Comrade Lenin!”

Another order sounded. The people around them started to take off clothes.

“Barb! We have to strip naked!”

“Yikes!? Here!? With all these strangers? Showing my tight little to these Bolshevik savages!”

“Do it! It is an order!?”

“Otherwise, I get shot, I suppose!? Geeze, Pam, what did these Bolsheviks do to you!? You were the rebel of the family!? No one had to tell you what to do? And now you blindly obey any order!?”

“If The Revolution wants me to strip in public! I do it! The higher goal is more important than my individual modesty!” Pam said, with a hint of pride.

“Pam, the fine print of that Bolshevism of yours is really weird!”

The people around them were taking off their clothes. Silently, calmly, in thoughts. All knew what was going to happen to them, and they seemed to accept their fate. They arranged their clothes in an orderly way, and then waited. All under the eyes of the guards.

The condemned were of all ages, from young people, hardly over eighteen, to people in their seventies. Some had shown their former wealth, by their clothing, but they were together with their servants, who clearly were guilty by association with their masters. They prepared themselves together, as if the prospect of death had erased all class differences.

Meanwhile, Barb had carefully taken off her clothes, closely following Pam’s undressing. When it was finished, she joined the others, a little bit embarrassed. Since it was not warm in the basement, the naked prisoners crowded together, and Barb found it comfortable to set aside her embarrassment and seek shelter amidst them too, as the best way to hide nudity was to join a group of naked people.

An order was shouted. Pam translated : “Five!”

Somewhat hesitating, five naked prisoners moved forward. All men. Accompanied by guards, they took a corridor. About a minute later, gunshots thundered through the basement, immensely scaring the remaining prisoners. Then, the calm turned again. Waiting.

Finally, the guards returned and shouted again : “Five!”

Five more prisoners moved on. Two couples, holding each other’s hand, and an older man. Soon after they had vanished, shots resounded.

The now naked maid servant was sitting on a bench, clearly nervous.

“Five!”

The maid’s former matron proposed the maid to join her. One of the guards helped her up and accompanied the anxious maid during her final walk. A mother in her fifties and her daughter also followed.

Shots resounded.

Gradually, the group of prisoners became smaller.

There were only ten left now.

“Five!”

“Barb!?”

“Mhh!?”

“Let’s go!” Pam said and stepped forward.

“What’s the hurry, Pam!?”

“The accounts of The Great Proletarian Revolution will not recall me as a coward who waited till the last! Let’s go now, the two of us, together!” and she grabbed Barb’s arm.”

“Pam! This is ridiculous! I have no intention to become someone’s martyr at all!”

A nearby guard pushed Barb forward, saying something in Russian.

“What’s he saying, Pam?”

“He says : ‘You! Stop complaining and move your lazy tight little’!”

“I have issued demerits for less to people speaking like that about my tight little!” Barb said, while following Pam.

“Just walk, Barb!”

Barb and Pam followed the group through the corridor. They were accompanied by a man of around fifty, a blonde woman in her thirties and her husband.

They space they were guided into, looked rather ruinous. At the wall opposite to the entry, were wooden panels. There was water on the concrete floor, they had to walk over wooden pallets. Underneath them, the water coloured blood red. The pallets next to the wooden panels were also stained with blood. There was a smell of gun powder

They had to face the wooden panels. They did so in silence, even without being given the order. First the husband, then the blonde woman, then Pam, next Barb and finally the man in his fifties.

Barb heard rustling behind her. They were preparing to shoot.

In a last attempt, she turned around. Facing the guards, who were already pointing their pistol to their victim’s necks.

“Listen, you! My offer to make Minnesota a red state still stands!”

The officer shouted at her.

“Barb! That does not work!” Pam said.

“But can’t we make a deal about it? It will suit your revolution, with a foothold in the US?”

The officer summoned her to face the wall again.

“Barb! Stop it!?”

“If you are not interested in Minnesota, we can still try Arkansas! They are more of your Bolshevik intellectual level there!”

The officer clearly got annoyed.

“Barb! Please!? Do not upset them! I want to have it done with a clean shot!”

“Pam! Better support me!”

The officer gesticulated violently with his pistol to summon Barb to face the wall, causing it to fire inadvertently. A dust cloud erupted from the ceiling, and one of the guards went down, in pain, grabbing his leg.

“Now look what you have done, you bungler!” Barb said “you shot one of your own in his foot! And you folks pretend you can conquer the world with your revolution?”

***

Two hours later, in a street in Saratov.



“Thanks, Barb!”

“Stop complaining, Pam! You had a kink for crucifixion, we got crucified, you got what you desired!”

“Crucified naked in public, like a Christian martyr! What a downfall for a Bolshevik revolutionary!”

“Shut up and suffer, Pam!”
I love that this is terrifying, sexy, and hilarious all at the same time!

Really can't stand these damn Bolsheviks! They don't have a fucking CLUE how to properly execute a few dozen women! All those lovely wives, mothers, daughters, maids, and matrons! Shot? Pffft! What a damn waste! This is why I'm reconverting to some religion. The Inquisition new how to treat a pretty girl!

But hey, at least Barb and Pam got crucified. Do wish we had more of THAT part ;)
 
I thought the longest was a letter sent by a man to his doctor, who had advised him to eat less, lose weight and eat fish rather than meat:

“Doc, note: I dissent. A fast never prevents a fatness. I diet on cod.”

:confused:
Sorry. Left out the word perfect. No words can be split. This restricts you to using only palindromic words.
Though not perfect the very first palin deserves mention. From the Garden of Eden:
"Madam I'm Adam"​
 
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Seems you’ve seen the film “Chekists”, haven’t you?
The execution scene in my short story was indeed inspired by that movie.

1602600220346.png
This scene inspired me for Barb's last attempt to make a deal with her executioners.

Why did I take Barb specifically to Saratov?
That's the place where Styka's circular panorama painting, depicting the martyrdom of Christians in Nero's circus was last seen.

nero.jpg

While it was exposed in Saratov, in 1915, the roof of the building collapsed. The heavily damaged canvas was kept in a storehouse, until it disappeared without a trace, in the late twenties. That's the painting I let Barb discover in the first lines of the story. For more details see :



(I make a lot of publicity for my old threads here!).;)
 
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