(5 of 7)
Groza is a wealthy egomaniac who considers himself the greatest tennis player since Tilden, the greatest lover since Casanova and the finest figure of a man since Lionel Strongfort. At 64 he runs three miles before breakfast every day. He likes to have his bodyguard, who always carries a Luger, referee his tennis matches. Groza cheats, and his opponents rarely argue. Nevertheless, Groza is putty in Ana's hands. He goes to Mme. Pauker before leaving official functions and asks: "Do you still need me?"
Vishinsky observed Ana's hold on Groza. When he left Rumania, Vishinsky said: "I feel very lighthearted."
One of King Michael's last major acts before he abdicated, 2½ years later, was to swear in Zvi Rabinsohn's daughter as his Foreign Minister. That was during Soviet-Rumanian Friendship Week.
Pawnshop City. Today, there are less than 50,000 Red army soldiers in Rumania but, stationed at key points throughout the country, they are enough. Also, Moscow has settled about 20,000 Russian families around Constanta on the strategic Black Sea coast. Through seven huge "Sovroms" (Soviet-Rumanian combines), the Russians almost completely control transport, oil, timber, banking, and everything else they can lay their hands on, even including Rumania's tiny motion picture industry. A Rumanian proverb covers the situation: "When the Russians help us, they always take something away."
Peasants are forced to give up a fixed quota of their crops even if the harvest is bad and they have not enough left for themselves; recently, peasants in the Banat burned their crops in protest against the system. A recent visitor described Bucharest as a "city with the air of a pawnshop." The only way the Rumanian middle class can keep alive is by slowly selling its possessions. The few men who still run their businesses actually hope for nationalization. New laws covering "economic sabotage" may land a businessman in jail for carrying out any simple deal. As one Rumanian businessman put it: "We walk around with 25 years' hard labor in our pockets."
Housecleaning. A woman's work (and a Communist's) is never done. Ana has a lot of new worries. One is what Rumania's former masters, the Turks, called baksheesh. Said one Rumanian when the Reds took power: "The only honest government Rumania can have is one that has been in power long enough to give everyone a chance to fill his pockets. It's only after a Rumanian official has made enough money through graft to buy a house, educate his children, and keep a mistress or two, that he feels he can afford to be honest. The Reds are starting from scratch, and have a long way to go."
The Communist Party, less than 2,000 strong before the war, has swelled to 500,000. Many of the nouveau Reds simply wanted their go at baksheesh. Until recently the new regime sold exit visas for $5,000 to $10,000. Officials and just plain Communists crowded the mountain resorts, gambling millions of lei at the casinos.