LITMIR.BIZ

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basketball seasons, Jimmy was approached by the chief coach of the track and field team. “Hey, you’re fast. Our track team needs someone like you to fill the gap in mid-distance running—the 400-yard dash, 800, and the mile. Do you want to try?”

      In sports, as in education, Jimmy was ready to try anything. He joined the track and field team and beat the school record in both the 400 and 800-yard dashes. He also won several competitions in Colorado. The coach told him that he would try to get Jimmy a scholarship at the local college. Jimmy was grateful, but he had a different path in mind—he wanted to serve in the army, like his dad. When Dad came home from the war, his jacket was covered with medals he’d been awarded for heroic deeds. Jimmy wanted to be a hero, too. When his senior year was almost over, he had a long conversation with his father about what he would do in the future.

      “They want to give me a scholarship in track and field,” Jimmy told his dad. “But I don’t want to use it. I want to do what you’re doing, and I want to go to West Point. I’ll enter college in the fall, but couple of months later I will be drafted and that’s when I want to take my entrance exams for West Point.”

      McMillin Sr. proudly approved his son’s decision.

      Jimmy passed most of the exams but failed his physical. The doctors explained to him that he had high blood pressure; he should go and serve in the regular army for two years and then come back and be tested again.

      “Sorry, but it’s the law,” said one of the doctors. “I’m pretty sure that in two years there will be no problems with your health. People mature in the army.”

      But Jimmy’s high blood pressure was genetic. His dad had been lucky. When he entered West Point, his blood pressure hadn’t been checked. He was considered physically fit to serve in the army. Jimmy was a healthy boy, never complained about his health. He didn’t know about high blood pressure. He thought everything was fine with his health. That’s what his dad thought too. Medicine took a big step forward after the war but those advances weren’t timely enough to help Jimmy.

      He was upset about his rejection of admission to West Point, but what could he do? He was ready to continue his life as a soldier. Jimmy spent several months going to a special school at a base in West Virginia where he learned cryptography. He was bright, and graduated from that school with the highest grades. He made the rank of Sergeant in the U.S. Army. His first posting was on a special mission to the U.S. Embassy in Moscow, where he was to talk with the Pentagon and all the U.S. Embassies throughout the world in a restricted language that was so sophisticated that no foreign secret services could decipher it. During his training period he was tested and examined so many times that his supervisors were confident in his trustworthiness. Before leaving for Moscow, General Andrew Bolling told him, “Son, we are relying on you, and we’re sure that you’ll never let your country down.”

      Despite his academic and athletic achievements, there was a gap in Jimmy’s education. During all those years in high school, the months in college, and then Army school, Jimmy never had time for dates. He never had a girlfriend. He dedicated all his time to studies and sports. He lived in a warm and loving atmosphere at home that satisfied his need for love and security, and fostered his shy personality. He didn’t think much about dating. In Moscow, he told his roommate in American House that in America he’d never met a girl whom he really liked.

      “Or they were afraid of me, or maybe I was too shy to approach them,” he said to his friend, “but I never went out with any of them.”

      His spirits were low by the time he arrived in Moscow. On the flight to the Russian capitol he read some information about the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics—the country where he would be stationed for the next two years. He knew that after World War II, relations between his country and the USSR had become tense. After defeating the Germans, the Soviets put Communist regimes in power all over Eastern Europe. U.S. strategy now was to stop Russians from spreading their military power to the rest of the European continent. Jimmy also read about Soviet concentration camps that were no better than German concentration camps. Millions of Russians who thought differently than their govern-ment were sent to camps in the Arctic of Siberia where the winters lasted ten months. He found the information frightening.

      “Well, I’ll live with other Americans in Moscow,” he thought, “and I’ll try to have no contact with the Commies.”

      James and several other servicemen were met at the airport by American officials. They were then put on a bus that brought them to their final destination—American House, in downtown Moscow.

      He was shown his room, which was on the second floor, had two beds and its own bathroom. It had a window that overlooked the Moscow River. It was September and the weather was perfect—about sixty degrees every day and sunshine. Jimmy got acquainted with his roommate Paul Beatley, a big guy who stood about six foot two inches and was a State Department employee at the U.S. Embassy. Both of them loved sports and came from military families; something clicked between them.

      “I’ll show you the ropes of working here,” Paul said to Jimmy. He came to Moscow several months earlier than Jimmy and considered himself to be experienced in Russian ways. “Tonight you’ll have several phone calls from Russian girls. They already know you’re here.”

      “How?”

      “I can’t answer your question. I just know from experience. The first day I came here I got four calls from these girls. They’ll ask you for a date. Be careful about that. Of course you can date anybody you want and nobody will forbid you to do it. Our superiors don’t care, but remember, and I’m pretty sure about this, these girls are all working for the Soviet Secret Service. They’re friendly and they’re beautiful, but after the dance parties it’s better to leave them behind.”

      “You don’t need to worry about me,” said Jimmy. “I don’t drink or dance, and I’m not even sure I want to join you.”

      Paul continued, “You should come. There is always dancing, drinking, and whatever you want to do after that. But don’t talk about your job. The girls want you to be drunk so they can find out all the secrets that you know. You don’t want to do that. Last month, a couple of our guys were sent home for being too close to the girls. Their careers were destroyed because of it. These girls are so sneaky. You’ll see them all next Friday and Saturday at our weekend parties. They’re fun, you’ll like them.”

      Jimmy listened carefully but he knew that he wouldn’t be the one who would be seduced by a Russian spy. Although he was still a virgin, he wasn’t ready to jump in bed with the first girl he met. That was what he thought.

      Jimmy’s superiors gave him a couple of days to get used to his new life in this absolutely different world. After his conversation with Paul, Jimmy didn’t have any intention of going to those notorious dancing parties. He didn’t want to be connected with any of the Russian girls. So on Friday he went to bed early, woke up on Saturday morning and started out on a sightseeing tour of Moscow. The weather was intoxicating—sunshine and almost no clouds in the sky. Downtown Moscow seemed like a fairy tale—the Kremlin, Red Square, Saint Basil Cathedral.

      “When were all these buildings built?” Jimmy wondered. “Probably a long time ago. I’ve never seen anything like this before in my life.”

      A tour guide told them about Russian history, and in English, but Jimmy didn’t listen to a word. He was so impressed by the view, he wanted to get off the bus and take in this strange world slowly, on foot. But he didn’t dare ask the bus driver to stop. He was confused. He’d read so many nasty things about Russia, from the cruelty of tsars to the communist dictatorship. In front of him were beautiful streets with outstanding architecture. Maybe his friends could explain it.

      When the bus returned to American House, it was already lunch time. Paul was sitting in their room with another guy who extended a friendly handshake and introduced himself as Alex Timm.

      “Hey, why you didn’t come to the party yesterday?” asked Paul. “We had great time. Everybody was so funny. Alex got drunk and danced alone. Nobody wanted to get near him. The Russian girls were excellent. Almost half of them disappeared

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