Refer to what is currently known as Oborishte Park in Sofia and if lucky, someone might know about what you’re talking. Though it has been 15 years since its name changed at the behest of Sofia’s city council, Oborishte Park and the parallel Yanko Sakuzov Boulevard are still better known, in the popular mindset, as Zaimov Park and Zaimov Boulevard, respectively.

Future revolutionary and military general Vladimir Zaimov was born in Kyustendil on December 8 1888 to Klavdiya Polikarpovna Korsak and Stoyan Zaimov, himself a general and a luminary in the Bulgarian Renaissance and fight for independence (1870s).

Like any good son of such a leader, Vladimir Zaimov attended and graduated from military academy and went on to participate in the First and Second Balkan Wars and World War 1. His career in this sphere continued, good or bad is up to you, with him, it being 1923 and he being the commander of the artillery division, staving off the execution of a communist arrested in Sliven after the September Uprising, followed by the 1935 edition of Colonel Zaimov being appointed inspector of the artillery and, soon after, being chosen political secretary of the Military Union. The intrigue started in 1935, the same year he was given the rank of major-general, when he was accused of conspiring in a plot for a coup d’etat (but he was later acquitted due to lack of evidence).

Then, in 1942, on March 23 to be exact, he was accused of spying for the USSR in return for money and was sentenced to death by firing squad.

But because he had been such a beneficial figure to the country, being awarded a medal of bravery for a night attack on the Odrin Fortress in the First Balkan War (1912), and then another medal of bravery in World War 1, he tried to make use of his former status of honour and sent a letter asking for his sentence to be pardoned.

According to the laws of those days, he was guilty of treason, because he sold state information. But it must be noted that at that point in time, Bulgaria was sided with Nazi Germany: Zaimov’s actions were, if nothing else, of help to the Allies.

In any case, the letter was rejected and he was executed on June 1 1942. Posthumously, in 1944, he was raised to the rank of colonel-general. The same year, his remains were transferred to Pleven and interred next to those of his father.

The USSR adopted Zaimov as their own, bestowing on him the Order of the Red Banner in 1966, and the Order of Lenin and the gold star of a Hero of the Soviet Union in 1972.

That this seems like good material for a film is no coincidence – Zaimov’s story was dramatised in Vulo Radev’s 1966 Tsar i General (Tsar and General). In this black-and-white feature, General Vladimir Zaimov is an antifascist intelligence office during the time of World War 2 who has had his cover blown and is sentenced to death by firing squad. Well, Tsar Boris III is deliberating over which side to choose, and is leaning towards the Axis. The monarch wants the spy to send a letter begging pardon, but the latter does not, and his sentence is carried out among much in the way of wrenching hearts and sorrow. A sensitive subject for the time, it was well received and commended for its fair treatment of the topic. Naum Shopov won the award for best actor at the 1966 Karlovy Vary International Film Festival in Czechoslovakia for his role as Tsar Boris III.

The Sofia placename was changed in 1992 during a period of wiping away the remnants of Bulgaria’s recently ended communist period. Vladimir Zaimov had been considered a loyal son (though he did not know it) of the Soviet Union because of his spying, antifascist as it was. At that point in Bulgaria, anything possibly related to socialism was an unmentionable and, in situations such as a relationship turned sour, it was easier, but not always beneficial, to just not talk about it, to pretend like that something/someone did not exist.

Anyway.

Zaimov was also a letter writer, sending to his family and friends a good amount of post while on the battlefront (around 1912/3), which his father kept as a sort of archive. They are touching, often, with him telling his mother about sleeping conditions, how his regiment made crepes and asking after his niece and nephew.

One short one, dated November 1 1912, reminds that the relation between mothers and their children are unchanging:

“My dear mother, You have worried yourself about me without reason. I am completely healthy and will go sometime soon to the division doctor. Your obedient son, Vladi”.

Others keep his mother informed about what his regiment is doing. For example, this one from January 21 1913:

“Dear Mum, Last night we started the action. Until present, there has been nothing decisive. We hope to soon be able to walk around Odrin, to be able to see it. I’m sending Father 300 leva, so that Katya (Vladimir’s sister) does not have to this month. If he’s healthy, a little later. A little while back, I wrote to Dyadya (Vladimir’s maternal uncle) and Ina, so I’m not going to write to them now. I wrote a little in Russian, who knows whether it’s correct? We, it seems, are not afraid of taking up the fight again... I’ve had enough. We’re, now, still in position and I’m writing to you from my dugout – one of the prettiest around! It’s built where a cannon used to sit on top of a solid embankment. Ok then, I hope that everyone is healthy and let’s hope for happy news to come soon. Tell Keva thank you for the card that she sent on the 12th, which barely I just received. Let’s hope that this all comes to an end quick-like, so that I can be among you and so I can see Little Ina and the little one (Vladimir’s niece and nephew). Vladya”.

Whatever the public opinion of Zaimov may be or may have been, his place in the nation’s cultural identity cannot be denied.