First Day Without Soviet Help : Envoy Drives Self to Work and Wife Clears the Dishes

The U.S. ambassador drove himself to work today and his wife cleared away the lunch dishes. It was the first day of diplomatic life under the new Kremlin policy of not letting Soviet citizens work for the embassy.

Ambassador Arthur A. Hartman’s Cadillac limousine stood unused, deprived of its Russian driver, and he drove to work in his own Mercedes.

The ambassador, who is over six feet tall, squeezed into a small Toyota later in the day to attend a meeting of embassy staffers. He spoke to them about problems created by the lack of Soviet maids, drivers, cleaners and repairmen who had made their lives run more smoothly until today.

Wife Helped With Lunch

At Spaso House, Donna Hartman helped prepare lunch for Elie Wiesel, who won this year’s Nobel Peace Prize, and she helped clear away the coffee cups while two Marine guards did the dishes.

The ambassador’s wife, who holds a constant round of receptions, luncheons and dinners in the vast turn-of-the-century residence, said she had volunteered to help out by driving her husband around or doing the gardening.

“I’ll be glad to drive for him, as long as they pay me a salary,” she joked.

“I volunteer to do the gardening, and the greenhouse and the snow removal, so long as they give me a machine. I want the kind you sit on, you know--that’s long been a fantasy of mine.”

Chef Left With Quail

At the American Embassy on Tchaikovsky Street, chef Alfredo Colletti sat in his empty kitchen wondering what to do with 400 stuffed, pre-roasted quail.

“It was going to be the lunch special today,” said Colletti. With his entire staff of 14 gone, he said the quail will have to stay in the freezer.

There was silence in the embassy’s inner courtyard, where Russian voices normally mingle with roaring engines and clanging hammers. Cars, trucks and buses normally driven by the embassy’s 50 Soviet chauffeurs stood idle.

“We’re going to find out who among these diplomats around here can handle a wrench,” said Ralph Goff, who once supervised dozens of Soviet plumbers, mechanics, carpenters and electricians.

A Sad Goodby

“There were some very sad faces, sitting in the pantry this morning” when the Soviet staff said goodby, Mrs. Hartman said.

Her assistant, Tatiana Berls, said the Soviet government organization that provides them told the staff members it was the Americans’ fault they had lost their jobs.

The jobs paid very well by Soviet standards. A maid at Spaso House was paid 232 rubles a month, or $344.87, considerably above the average Soviet monthly wage of 180 rubles.

The ambassador’s wife helped an Italian cook and two Italian assistants who were unaffected by the Kremlin order prepare lunch for Wiesel and some prominent Jewish refuseniks.

“It had to be kosher, or as close as we can come to kosher, which isn’t very close,” she said.

As the guests were finishing coffee, three American reporters turned up to ask about life without staff.

“I have until 6,” Mrs. Hartman said. “Then I start making the popcorn” for a reception.