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Chemodan II: 2 + 2 = 5: Stalin coins a slogan, and 500,000 ‘dirty swine’ applaud death sentences

This is part two in a series about a mysterious suitcase that once belonged to a young Briton who followed his father into a career as a diplomat in the USSR in the 1930s. Check out parts one and three.

A school rugby team photo with the future Captain W.R. Frecheville of the Royal Engineers, whom the Bolsheviks would capture and execute in 1920.

Even as young George Walton was at Sedbergh, studying French, passing the ball on the rugby field, and bowling on the cricket pitch, he must have avidly followed his father’s career abroad. The Civil War was raging from 1918-1920. The U.K. deployed troops from the White Sea to the Sea of Japan.

In the south, where W.S. was stationed after he left Murmansk, the Royal Air Force flew combat missions against the Red Army. British ground troops and heavy Mark V and light Whippet tanks joined in the White attacks, Lauri Kopisto writes in a dissertation titled “The British Intervention in South Russia 1918-1920” (University of Helsinki, 2011). British tank crews led a successful assault on the Bolshevik stronghold of Tsaritsyn, later renamed Stalingrad. The Bolsheviks made clear their hatred for the foreigners, threatening to castrate and crucify any British prisoner of war who fell into their hands.

[Check out the new edition of The Insurrectionist.]

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Writing lessons from dishwashing, 40 years on

Here’s why Moses wandered the Sinai Desert for four decades: When you reach your sixties, four decades is the blink of an eye.

“Come on, old man, when are we getting to the Promised Land?” the Israelites surely told the grizzled prophet. “It’s been forty years already.”

“You’re kidding. Seems like only yesterday we left Egypt.”

Such were my thoughts during a recent trip to Seattle when Nonna and I dropped by Julia’s in Wallingford. In the fall of 1984, I was an impoverished writer working as a dishwasher at the popular restaurant. Time flies, but that wasn’t the only conclusion I drew four decades on. Rather, the trip reminded me that in hard times you aren’t always aware of the greater plot of your life.

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