9 Kilometers northeast of Bakhtara
May 24, 1936
Vacietis placed the telephone down gently, not letting Pishevari detect his anger. However, as soon as the connection between his headquarters and the foreign ministry in Teheran had been cut, he slammed his fist down in the desk, producing a resounding thud. He took a series of deep breaths, resolving to calm himself; but it was difficult, and he knew he was trying to burn a hole through the wall by merely glaring it at. Shivers ran up and down his back as he attempted to regain control of himself. He clenched his teeth and his lips turned into just another hard line marring his face. One final shiver rippled along his spine before his anger vanished, to be replaced by resignation. He collapsed into his chair and reviewed the previous hour as he had talked with Pishevari.
He had called Pishevari soon after he had received a phone call himself, from Litvinov. Litvinov had told him that the Soviet Union was finally formally at war with Iraq and that he could begin the invasion as soon as possible. Vacietis’ mind had flashed immediately to the operational plan and, thanking Litvinov, he then proceeded to call his subordinate commanders.
The Soviet Union declared war on Iraq on the 24th of May.
His subordinates all knew what the plan was; it was to be a broad offensive striking toward all vital Iraqi locations at once from Persian soil. Vacietis had sat back and closed his eyes, he remembered clearly, knowing that the invasion was going to succeed easily as the Iraqis could not defend on such a broad front. However, soon the trouble began. The Persian border guards were refusing to allow the columns to pass. The telephone conversation he had with Lieutenant General Apanasenko, commander of the one division 38th Rifle Corps, was repeated with every single general under his command.
“What’s the situation up there, Apanasenko?”
“It’s the Persians, sir. They won’t let us pass!”
“Insist.”
“I have. They’ve captured my chief of staff when he went to argue with them and are threatening violence if we continue moving forward.”
“Goddamnit, why?”
“They said that they have orders.”
“Orders? Orders from who?
We give them orders.”
“They still see their own government as sovereign. They don’t seem to know, or accept, that their country is a mere puppet state any more.”
“And they’re backing this up with force?”
“Yes. My chief of staff is hostage and they’ve got rifles and machine guns trained on my columns. They warned that if I moved my infantry any more, they’d open fire. We’d win, of course, but it would be a bloodbath because my infantry’s just in marching order.”
“God
damnit. Ok, tell them that you won’t move but you want your chief of staff back. Mention that I’ll be calling Teheran myself.”
“If they even know who you are. No offense meant, sir.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just do it.”
That had been the first of six conversations, all along similar lines, before Vacietis could actually contact the Persian foreign ministry. He had no doubt that Pishevari was behind such mischief and he had been determined to straighten the man out. As soon as Pishevari picked up the telephone, Vacietis had launched his barrage of accusations, questions and demands.
“Pishevari! The war against Iraq has begun but there’s no invasion taking place, because
your border guards are denying my armies passage! I want to know why they are doing this, Pishevari, and I want to know now. You
do know what happens to client states that defy their masters, do you not?” His voice had been hard and threatening.
By contrast, Pishevari’s had been smooth and patronizing. “Why Vacietis, I’d imagine that you’d call earlier. You forget that Persia is a sovereign state, and did not agree to be used as a platform for invading an innocent country.”
“Persia is
not a sovereign state. It is a puppet of the Kremlin. You know what happens if you defy the Kremlin, do you not? You will lose your support. Soviet engineers will leave; Soviet industries will abandon your pathetic excuse of a nation. We will forcibly disarm your military and leave you out for the wolves. I hear that Equatorial Africa has over one hundred divisions already, I’m sure that this is enough men to pacify half the country if the Kremlin decides to partition Persia with them. Where will your sovereign state be, then? It will be buried, rather than simply left behind in the dust of conquest.”
Pishevari had merely laughed. “Do you seriously believe that the Kremlin will risk its precious supply of oil?”
Vacietis had felt his anger rising already, but fought it. He had recognized the need to keep his wits about him. “Not so precious. We have Maikop, we have Baku. We will have Iraq. What is Abadan compared to such black wealth? A rain drop, insignificant. The only risk I see is that to your power.”
Pishevari’s voice had turned serious. “The Soviets will not use Persia as a springboard to conquer other nations.”
“The Soviets will not improve Persia’s infrastructure. You will remain in the dark ages, where you have always belonged. The Iraqis have a claim on Abadan. If we so wish, we will set you free, allow Persia to attain juridical sovereignty. It will not, however, have the empirical sovereignty required to enforce its policies and will fall to its easterly neighbor. Iraq will take Abadan. The Soviet Union will only benefit from such an event.”
Fear had begun to creep into Pishevari’s voice. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I need to say buy one word for the Soviet to take no more interest in aiding Persia but simply wringing it for its oil. This word depends entirely on what you say next.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“That is your loss. Persia will remain a weak country, forever.”
Vacietis had placed the telephone down gently, not letting Pishevari detect his anger. He slammed his fist down in the desk, producing a resounding thud, nearly blind with anger as his eyes focused on a singular point on the wall. His mind, however, was already racing. He would have to invade from the north, from Turkey. He needed to make a telephone call to Kuznetsov and determine when Turkey would finally fall. It would be a longer road, but Persia had to suffer for its arrogance. An orderly came in, wondering what the great thump had been. Vacietis looked up at him, through him, and said “Pull all engineers out of Persia. The Soviet-Persian border will be closed to all traffic moving into Persia. Set up a guard at Abadan, keep the supply of oil flowing.”