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After several hours of flying, the flight from Berlin to Moscow finally reached its destination.
"You representatives of the Soviet Union really have a hard time adapting to this kind of plane," Strasser complained to Kirov in the cabin.
The stability of the Soviet Union aircraft is really poor, it was so bumpy all the way that it made the Germany delegation dizzy. I really don't know how these Russians adapt to this kind of environment.
"If you fly in this kind of aircraft every day, you will adapt to it too."
Kirov smiled and said, "Many passenger planes in the Soviet Union are actually modified from fighter jets. The one they are on is already considered the best-performing Model. If they were to switch to those older planes, the Germany people would probably be really sick."
"Forget it, I'd rather never get used to this flying sensation in my lifetime."
Strasser found it somewhat amusing yet bewildering.
As he opened the cabin door, Strasser was taken aback by the sight before him.
He saw an entire regiment of soldiers standing at the airport, a sea of dark uniforms, all staring at them with serious expressions.
A long red carpet was laid out beneath the airplane's boarding stairs, extending all the way to the end of the airport. On either side stood countless members of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, with the front row consisting of Young Pioneers holding bouquets of flowers, eagerly gazing at Strasser. "Welcome, Germany delegation to the Soviet Union!"
When Strasser stepped onto the gangway, the crowd erupted in loud cheers, their slogans synchronized and unified. Strasser felt somewhat overwhelmed by the attention; while waving to the crowd, he quietly asked Kirov behind him, "Is this how you treat foreign delegations in the Soviet Union?"
After half a day without a response from the latter, Strasser turned around and found Kirov also looking shocked, his mouth agape enough to fit an egg.
After a while, he regained his composure and looked at Strasser with a hint of envy.
"It seems that our comrade Stalin values you highly. No delegation from any country has ever received such attention from you before. Not to mention them, even our own people wouldn't have such a grand reception."
Surprised as he was, Strasser and his group continued on; he didn't want to keep so many people waiting for too long. The representatives from Germany who accompanied him were all reliable yet unknown figures, except for Baron Dezhi. This man was also very curious about the Soviet Union, so he strongly insisted on visiting alongside Strasser.
The overly enthusiastic Soviet Union people made them somewhat uncomfortable, so while maintaining basic politeness, they quickly picked up their pace. They completed the originally estimated ten-minute walk in three minutes, leaving behind the members of the Soviet Union delegation except for the Kirov who followed them running. "This way, comrades."
At the airport exit, a man in a House Committee on the Interior uniform signaled for Strasser to board the car behind him. The Soviet Union provided a car and a driver for every three Germans.
"Don't we need to wait for our comrades from the Soviet Ministry of Foreign Affairs?" Strasser asked.
"No need, we still have to report to Comrade Stalin first." Kirov jogged all the way and finally caught up with his old friend. He bent over, panting, and said.
Kirov secretly complained about how socially anxious the people from Germany are, while the people from Soviet Union are much more warm and outgoing, often greeting each other with kisses on the cheek to show friendliness. "I have to admit, the mobilization ability of the Soviet Union is much stronger than ours. We Germans can't gather as many people to welcome foreign delegations."
On the car, Strasser said to Baron Dezhi, who was sitting next to him, "Yes, the mobilization capability of the Soviet Union is truly impressive. No wonder they managed to defeat the Allies' intervention forces despite having nothing." Baron Dezhi agreed with Strasser's viewpoint.
"Unfortunately, they have nothing but people right now. It will probably take them a long time to catch up with Germany," Strasser said with a smile. "You are absolutely right, comrade. Our country is indeed in a state of complete poverty."
"However, compared to the situation in 1917 when even country couldn't achieve unity, the Soviet Union is much better now."
Sitting in the passenger seat, Soviet Union Major suddenly spoke fluent German.
"Do you understand German?"
Strasser touched his nose, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"In fact, everyone you just met understands German, including the Young Pioneers who welcomed you. These individuals have been carefully selected by the Party and are absolutely reliable."
The driver in front spoke up, explaining in a thick Soviet-accented German, which made Strasser feel even more awkward.
"You people from the Soviet Union are truly multi-talented." After thinking for a long time, Strasser could only offer praise in the end. The Soviet Communist Party's control over the country is indeed commendable, especially the cleanup of the entire Soviet Union initiated by the Counter-revolutionary Committee founded by Felix Dzerzhinsky.
They were fully capable of ensuring the reliability of the party members participating in today's welcoming ceremony. Strasser believed that these people had been poor farmers for three generations, with backgrounds that could not be any clearer. Soon, they arrived at their destination.
In 1927, there were not many cars in the Soviet Union, so there were no traffic jams. They turned a corner, and ahead was the legendary "Third Rome," the "red core that terrifies the West," the tallest building in the Soviet Union, the target that the Nazis wanted to seize, the mysterious and spectacular Kremlin. Today, the security here is very strict, with soldiers stationed everywhere, and snipers can be seen on the high buildings.
It can be said that soldiers were on high alert within a radius of several kilometers.
As they approached the checkpoint, the Major in the passenger seat rolled down the window to show his identification to the sentry. After the sentry carefully confirmed it was valid, he waved them through.
They passed through a total of three such checkpoints, and ahead lay an open area where there were no signs of the soldiers they had just seen.
The atmosphere here is peaceful and serene, a stark contrast to the strict vigilance just now.
"What a magnificent building!" Baron Dezhi exclaimed as he looked at the Kremlin in front of him.
Strasser was also very excited. In his previous life, he had been to Moscow but had never visited the Kremlin, which was a significant regret for someone who believed in socialism. Today, he finally fulfilled a small personal goal.
"However, where should we enter?" Strasser looked back at the colonel behind him, who showed no intention of leading the way. He gazed ahead at the numerous buildings, feeling somewhat troubled.
However, he soon no longer needed to think about this issue. In the distance, a man with a small head was running towards him. Upon closer inspection, it was Bukharin. "I'm here, Comrade Strasser! Welcome to Moscow!"
This guy had clearly been looking forward to Strasser's arrival for a long time, as he crossed the hall in front of the palace at an astonishing speed.
Next, Bukharin planned to jump down the steps in a stylish manner, showcasing the impressive demeanor of a Soviet Union citizen.
With a sliding move, Bukharin leaped from the two-meter-high steps and landed on the ground.
Unfortunately, his landing point happened to have a small protruding stone that slightly tripped Bukharin's leg. Then, in front of everyone, Bukharin stumbled and directly knelt down, bowing his head before Strasser. "Is there any other way to welcome someone in the Soviet Union besides kissing on the cheek?"
Baron Dezhi looked puzzled.
"Uh? Maybe there is?"
Strasser was also unsure, and he turned his gaze toward Bukharin, who was kneeling on the ground.
The latter's face turned red and white alternately. At this moment, he wanted to find a place to bury himself. It seems that being cool doesn't end well.
"Yes, yes!"
Bukharin answered subconsciously, as if sensing something was wrong, and quickly changed his words.
"Oh no, that's not right!"
Strasser: ???
Baron Dezhi: ???
Germany Delegation: ???
Soviet Union Major: ......
Bukharin: (╯°Д°)╯
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