Graveyard of Dreams


Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Romantic, Heterosexual, Historical, .

Desc: Sex Story: <i>My contribution to the ASSM Historical Challenge. This story is set in Siberia in 1919, depicting the love between two 'comrades' during the Russian Civil War.</i><br> A volunteer from the 'Worker's and Peasant's Army' finds a woman in the snow, half dead from hypothermia. Dismissing the suspicians of his comrades, he is determined to discover the truth about this woman. Despite what that truth may cost him.

© Copyright 2004

This story is fiction, however it takes place during real events. It remains the property of the Author and may not be reproduced for gain without the Author's express permission.(C)

{'You ask me, 'what did we dream of?' So much happened later that I honestly don't remember. What I *do* remember of those days was the passion, for we had an excess of it.'}

Krystina Sofia Vladimirova.

Saratov, Russian Federation.

(Foreword to the Biography of the late General Peotr Ivanovich Vladimirov, Hero of the Soviet Union, July 1995.)

'History is what we remember. In Russia we forgot everything.'

Felix Krasin, Red Army Defector.

Paris France 1962

Historical Note

Two years out from the Russian October Revolution, towards the end of 1919, the political landscape of Russia was grim and confused. Far to the East lay the fledgling Nationalist Government of Siberia based in Omsk. An Independent State had been set up in Samara under Kochum. In the Far East the Japanese and Americans were occupying Vladivostok. Elsewhere the British had siezed Arkangel'sk, the French, Odessa and the Crimea.

In European Russia, General Deniken and his 'White' Russian 'Volunteer' Army were swarming unchecked threatening Moscow. Finland and Poland had declared independence. The Ukhraine was in uproar with a half dozen factional militias vying for supremacy, Nationalists, Anarchists, Monarchists, Bolsheviks, 'Cadets' and the so-called 'Green' Socialists.

In the Baltic The German 5th Army of General Hoffmann occupied Lithuania in contravention of the terms of the Armistice. Relatively unengaged during the Great War, this superbly equipped and organised Army negotiated with the British and 'White' Russian counter-revolutionaries for a possible march on St Petersburg.

The winter of 1919 was the watershed of the Bolshevik Revolution. It was also the swansong of the Volunteer Workers' and Peasants' Army. In February 1920 it became the Soviet Red Army after Leon Trotsky recruited 50,000 ex Tsarist Officers into it's ranks. Conscription was introduced for all those who had not employed labour. Badges of Rank were introduced, soldiers no-longer elected their own Officers and saluting superiors became compulsory.

Eventually, the Red Army numbered nearly 15 million and became the weapon that established the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. Finally, by the close of 1920, General Wrangel, the last commander of the 'White' Volunteer Army was hopelessly outnumbered. Refugees were fleeing to the docks of Odessa and Sevastopol to be evacuated across the Black sea.

The Tsarist colours were eventually hauled down for good in 1924 on the ancient Battleship Georg Pobiedonosets, Wrangel's floating headquarters. By then even Wrangel himself had sought other employment.

White Russians.

White Russians came to be so-called because they opposed the 'Red' Russians. In reality, that was pretty much all they *did* agree on. Constant bickering between the various factions hindered their effectiveness fatally. Their association with the reviled Don and Kuban Cossacks was an unfortunate public relations failure as far as the ordinary Russian people were concerned. Ironically, it was the disaffection of the Don Cossacks over the issue of independence that provided the final straw to the counter-revolution.


Somewhat over-hyped, in my opinion, it is difficult to find an occasion where the semi-regular Cossacks had any positive role in a military campaign. Ill-discipline was their biggest problem, and this was demonstrated on numerous occasions. Not the least in the suppression of Father Gapon's peaceful 'food march' in the winter of 1905. But you get what you pay for, and it's not rocket science predicting what would happen when one turns the Cossacks on a defenceless crowd led by a priest.


Literally, the 'bigger' or 'majority'. The result of a split in the All Russian Communist Party over the role of the Party in a future Russia. The Bolsheviks foresaw a centralised, dominant role whereas the losers, the Mensheviks, favoured power vested in the Soviets, or people's assemblies. The name later on came to be associated with anyone who fought in the revolution and civil war for the Reds.


The Committee for the Defence of the Revolution. Forerunner to the KGB and the NKVD. Need one say more?

Central Siberia, December 1919.

Shchpuka Vladimirov dragged his felted wool boots out of the clinging snow. Through the steel grey of the Siberian winter he glimpsed his two companions in front, imitating his own clown-like struggle. The wail of the wind, straight from the North and the Central Siberian Plateau made talking difficult.

Shchpuka, Russian for pike, was his nickname. One summer day last year he'd fallen into the Anghara river and one of his laughing comrades had suggested his struggles in the water looked like that of a pike. Since then Shchpuka had been his name.

A flurry of wind-driven snow lashed at his face. Momentarily blinded by the stinging cold, Schchpuka stumbled into a drift of deep snow piled against a fallen log. His leg sank down right up to his crotch and, by the time he extricated himself, his two friends had disappeared. Cursing his misfortune he stumbled on alone dragging his heavy pack and rifle along behind.

It was easy to mistake the black object as a tree trunk or a rock outcrop. Shchpuka was just about to trudge past when something caught his eye. Something resembling an arm projected out from the object. Bending down, he saw the object was human, swathed in a long sable coat and hat.

A little while later he heard a voice behind him.

"Shchpuka, what the hell are you doing? I thought you'd gone and fallen through the ice."

"Krasin?" he replied, "look, it's a person, a girl, she's alive!"

"What! Who the hell is she? What is she doing here? I wouldn't bother, Comrade," Krasin replied looking over Shchpuka's shoulder, "she'll soon be a block of ice. C'mon, it must be 30 below. You must get back to the village or you'll be like her."

"Comrade, we must get a troika from the village. We can't just leave her!"

"Watch me," the older man told him.

Shchpuka insisted and eventually Krasin relented and stumped off muttering to fetch a sleigh.

The village of Malenkibrat'sk was a town the railway forgot. It had the misfortune of being bypassed by the Trans-Siberian by some 8 kilometres as it bent it's way towards Irkutsk on the shores of Lake Baykal. A random collection of log cabins, it's function in the winter of 1919, was primarily the acommodation of a small unit of the Workers' and Peasants' Army, the RKKA.

For some ten kilometres away was the railway town of Tulun, occupied by members of the Czech Legion. At the close of the 1st World War the Legion, former prisoners of war, had been trapped in Siberia by the outbreak of revolution and the subsequent Russian Civil War. In their attempt to get home they had occupied most of the Siberian section of the Trans-Siberian Railway. As Russia's only means of transportation across the frozen vastness, they'd turned the railway into a gold mine.

The RKKA was badly outnumbered and over stretched. Broken into small units, they could do nothing but watch the Czechs while things were finally being decided in the West. Curiously, the Czechs were called by the RKKA 'Austrians' after their former employers, the Hapsburg Empire of Austria-Hungary.

Malenkibrat'sk was held by a garrison of just 20. The Red Forces main task was to man a series of observation posts consisting of log 'pillboxes.' It was a routine and boring task. Sensibly the 'Austrians' had not the slightest intention of acquiring Malenkibrat'sk, especially in the cold of winter.

Conversely, the 20 soldiers of the village had not the slightest intention of charging at Tulun over the snow. So they sat and watched each other.

Meanwhile, a little group of RKKA volunteers stood around the bundle of firs that kept their 'discovery' alive. By now it was pitch black outside and the double glazed windows of the log barrack house were firmly shuttered. The wood stove thrummed to itself as the wind outside force-drafted the fire to a blue white heat. Two oil lamps set on the long table provided the yellow illumination. The girl's rescuers had placed her in a cot by the stove.

"Frostbite?" one of the men asked.

Shchpuka shrugged.

"She will tell us when she wakes up."

"She has ten toes and ten fingers," the man confirmed, "that is a good sign."

"The tip of her nose is a good colour," Shchpuka added.

"Have you checked her tits?" asked the first man, to a ripple of laughter, "I know you're dying to check them out."

Ignoring the teasing, Shchpuka stared at the sleeping girl's face. 'So fragile, ' he thought to himself, 'like a flower on the Taiga.'

"Did you find anything on her?" Felix Krasin asked, "did you find out anything about her?"

"Just a letter, Comrade Krasin," Shchpuka replied, "but it is written in a foreign language. Latin script... maybe English? I don't know."

"English you say? A spy! I thought so. We should have left her out there in the snow."

"Don't be an idiot, Krasin!" Shchpuka replied exasperated, "does she look like a spy to you? What the hell is there to spy on here anyhow?"

"I don't know. What does a spy look like, anyway? Like a spy? I mean, the best spies don't look like spies do they? Otherwise, what's the point?"

The other men murmured agreement.

.... There is more of this story ...

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