My Service as Commander-in-Chief of the South-Western Front—The Moscow Conference—The Fall of Riga.

I was touched by General Alexeiev’s letter:

“My thoughts are with you in your new appointment. I consider that you have been sent to perform a superhuman task. Much has been said, but apparently little has been done there. Nothing has been done even after the 16th July by Russia’s chief babbler.... The authority of the Commanders is being steadily curtailed. Should you want my help in anything I am ready to go to Berdichev, to go to the Front, to one Command or another.... God preserve you!”

Here was a man, indeed, whom neither an exalted position nor misfortunes could change. He was full of his modest, disinterested work for the good of his native land.

A new front, new men. The South-Western Front, shaken by the events in July, was gradually recovering. Not, however, in the sense of real convalescence, as the optimists thought, but of a return approximately to its condition prior to the offensive. There were the same strained relations between officers and men, the same slip-shod service, the desertion, and open unwillingness to fight, which was only less actively expressed owing to the lull in operations; finally there was the same Bolshevist propaganda, only more active, and not infrequently disguised under the form of Committee “fractions” and preparations for the Constituent Assembly. I have a document referring to the 2nd Army of the Western Front. It is highly characteristic as an indication of the unparalleled toleration and, indeed, encouragement of the disintegration of the Army on the part of the representatives of the Government and Commanders, under the guise of liberty and conscious voting at the elections. Here is a copy of the telegram sent to all the senior officers of the 2nd Army:

The Army Commander, in agreement with the Commissar, and at the request of the Army fraction of the Bolshevist Social-Democrats, has permitted the organisation, from the 15th to 18th October, of preparatory courses for instructors of the aforesaid fraction for the elections to the Constituent Assembly, one representative of the Bolshevist organisation of each separate unit being sent to the said courses. No. 1644.

Suvorov.[55]

The same toleration had been exercised in many cases previously, and was founded on the exact meaning of the regulations for Army Committees and of the “Declaration of Soldiers’ Rights.”

Carried away by the struggle against counter-revolution, the Revolutionary institutions had paid no attention to such facts as public meetings with extreme Bolshevist watchwords being held at the very place where the Front Headquarters were situated, or that the local paper, Svobodnaia Mysl,[56] most undisguisedly threatened the officers with a St. Bartholomew’s Eve.

The front was holding out. That is all that could be said of the situation. At times there would be disturbances ending tragically, such as the brutal murder of Generals Girshfeld, Hirschfeld, and Stefanovich, Commissar Linde. The preliminary arrangements and the concentration of the troops for the coming partial offensive were made, but there was no possibility of launching the actual attack until the “Kornilov programme” had been put into practice and the results known.

I waited very impatiently.

The Revolutionary organisations (the Commissariat and Committee) of the South-Western Front were in a position; they had not yet seized power, but some of it had already been yielded to them voluntarily by a series of Commanders-in-Chief—Brussilov, Gutor, Baluev. Therefore, my coming at once roused their antagonism. The Committee of the Western Front lost no time in sending a scathing report on me to Berdichev on the basis of which the next issue of the Committee’s organ published an impressive warning to the “enemies of democracy.” As usual, I totally omitted to invoke the aid of the Commissariat, and sent a message to the Committee saying that I could have nothing to do with it unless it kept rigidly within the limits of the law.

The Commissar of the Front was a certain Gobechio. I saw him once only, on my arrival. In a few days he got transferred to the Caucasus, and his post was taken by Iordansky.[57] As soon as he arrived he issued an “order to the troops at the Front.” Afterwards he was unable to understand that two persons could not command the Front at one and the same time. Iordansky and his assistants, Kostitsin and Grigorier—a literary man, zoologist, and doctor respectively—were probably rather prominent men in their own profession, but utterly ignorant of military life.

The Committee of the Front was no better and no worse than others.[58] It took the “Defencist” point of view, and even supported the repressive measures taken by Kornilov in July, but at that time the Committee was not in the least degree a military institution organically connected—for good or evil—with the true Army life. It was merely a mixed party organ. Divided into “fractions” of all the Socialist parties, the Committee positively revelled in politics, and introduced them at the Front likewise. The Committee carried on propaganda on a large scale, convened congresses of representatives in order to have them converted by Socialist fractions, including such as were openly antagonistic to the policy of the Government. I made an attempt to stop this work in view of the impending strategical operations and the difficult period of transition, but met with determined opposition on the part of Commissar Iordansky. At the same time, the Committee was perpetually interfering in all questions of military authority, spreading sedition and distrust to the commanders.

Meanwhile, both in Petrograd and Moghilev, events were taking their course, and we could grasp their meaning only in so far as they were reflected by newspaper reports, rumours and gossip.

There was still no “programme.” The Moscow State Conference[59] raised great hopes, but it met without making any changes in either State or military policy. On the contrary, it even outwardly emphasises the irreconcilable enmity between the Revolutionary Democracy and the Liberal Bourgeoisie, between the Commanders and the soldiers’ representatives.

If the Moscow Conference yielded no positive results, nevertheless, it fully exposed the mood of the opponents, the leaders and the rulers. All unanimously recognised that the country was in deadly peril. Everyone understood that the social relations had suffered an upheaval, that all branches of the nation’s economy had been uprooted. Each party reproached the other with supporting the selfish interests of their class. This, however, was not the most important matter, for, strange as it may seem, the primary causes of social class war, even the agrarian and labour questions, merely led to disagreement, without rousing any irreconcilable dissentions. Even when Plekhanov, the old leader of the Social-Democrats, amid universal approval, turned to the Right demanding sacrifice, and to the Left demanding moderation, it seemed as if the chasm between the two opposing social camps was not so very great.

All the attention of the Conference was taken up by other questions, those of authority and of the Army.

Miliukov enumerated all the sins of the Government, vanquished by the Soviets, its “capitulation” to the ideology of the Socialist parties and Zimmerwaldists, capitulation in the Army, in foreign policy, to the Utopian demands of the working classes, to the extreme demands of nationalities.

“The usurpation of the authority of the State by Central and Local Committees and Soviets,” said General Kaledin distinctly, “must be stopped at once and decisively.”

Maklakov smoothed the way for his attack: “I demand nothing, but I cannot help drawing attention to the alarm felt by the social conscience when it sees that the ‘Defeatists’ of yesterday have been invited to join the Government.” Shulgin (Right) is agitated. He says: “I want your (the Provisional Government’s) authority to be really strong, really unlimited. I want this, though I know that a strong Government easily turns to despotism, which is more likely to crush me than you, the friends of that Government.”

On the Left, Jehkheidze sings the praises of the Soviets: “It is only owing to the Revolutionary organisations that the creative spirit of the Revolution has been preserved, for the salvation of the country from the disintegration of authority and from anarchy....” “There is no power higher than that of the Provisional Governments,” says Tzeretelli, “because the source of this power the sovereign people has, through all the organs at its disposal, directly delegated this power to the Provisional Government.” Of course, in so far as that Government submits to the will of the Soviets?... And over all one hears the dominating voice of the President of the Congress, who is seeking for “heavenly words” in order to “express his shuddering horror” at coming events, “and at the same time brandishing a wooden sword and threatening his hidden enemies thus: ‘Be it known to everyone who has once tried to offer armed resistance to the authority of the people that the attempt will be smothered in blood and iron. Let those beware who think that the time has come for them to overthrow the Revolutionary Government with the help of bayonets.’”

The contradiction was still more striking in military matters. In a dry but powerful speech, the Supreme Commander-in-Chief drew a picture of the destruction of the Army, involving the whole country in its ruin, and with great reserve explained the gist of his programme. General Alexeiev related, with genuine bitterness, the sad story of the sins, sufferings and gallantry of the former Army.

“Weak in technical resources and morally strong in spirit and discipline,” he related how the Army had lived to see the bright days of the Revolution, and how later on, “when it was thought to be a danger to the conquests of the Revolution, it was inoculated with deadly poison.” Kaledin, the Don Cossack Attaman, representing thirteen Cossack Armies and unhampered by any official position, spoke sharply and distinctly: “The Army must keep out of politics. There must be no political meetings with their party struggles and disputes. All the (Army) Soviets and Committees must be abolished. The Declaration of Soldiers’ Rights must be revised. Discipline must be raised both at the Front and in the rear. The disciplinary authority of the Commanders must be restored. All power to the leaders of the Army!”

Kuchin, the representative of the Army and Front Committees, rose to reply to these trite military axioms. “The Committees were a manifestation of the instinct of self-defence.... They had to be formed as organs for the protection of the privates, as hitherto there had been nothing but oppression ... the Committees had brought light and knowledge to the soldiers.... Then came the second period—one of decay and disorganisation ... ‘rearguard consciousness’ made its appearance, but failed to digest all the mass of questions which the Revolutions had raised in the minds of the soldiery....” Now the speaker did not deny the necessity for repressive measures, but they “must be compatible with the definite work of Army organisations....” How this was to be done had been shown by the united front of Revolutionary Democracy, namely, the Army must be animated, not by the desire of victory over the enemy, but by “a repudiation of Imperialistic aims, and a desire for the speedy attainment of universal peace on Democratic principles.... The commanders should possess complete independence in the conduct of military operations, and have a decisive voice in questions of discipline and service training.” The object of the organisations, on the other hand, was to introduce their policy wholesale among troops, and “the Commissars must be the introducers of (this) single Revolutionary policy of the Provisional Government, the Army Committees must direct the social and political life of the soldiers. The restoration of the disciplinary authority of the commanders is not to be thought of,” etc.

What is the Government going to do? Will it find enough strength and boldness to burst the fetters placed on it by the Bolshevistic Soviet?[60]

Kornilov said firmly, repeating his words twice: “I do not doubt for a moment that the (my) measures will be carried out without delay.”

And if not—was it to be War?

He also said: “It is impossible to admit that the determination to carry out these measures should in every case be aroused merely by the pressure of defeats and loss of territory. If the rout at Tarnopol and the loss of Galicia and Bukovina did indeed result in restoration of discipline at the Front, it cannot be admitted that order in the rear should be restored at the cost of the loss of Riga, and that order on the railways should be restored by the cession of Moldavia and Bessarabia to the enemy.”

On the 20th Riga fell.

Both strategically and tactically the Front of the lower Dvina was in complete preparedness. Taking into consideration the strength of the defensive positions, the forces were also sufficient. The officers in command were General Parsky, Army Commander, and General Boldyrev, Corps Commander; both experienced Generals, and certainly not inclined to counter-Revolution in the opinion of the Democrats.[61]

Finally, from deserters’ reports, our Headquarters knew not only the direction but even the day and the hour of the contemplated attack.

Nevertheless, on the 19th August the Germans (Von Hutier’s 8th Army), after heavy artillery preparation, occupied the UxkÜll bridgehead in the face of feeble opposition on our part, and crossed the Dvina. On 20th August the Germans assumed the offensive also along the Mitau road; towards evening of the same day the enemy’s UxkÜll group, having pierced our lines on the Egel, began deploying in a northerly direction, threatening the retreat of the Russian troops towards Wenden. The 12th Army, abandoning Riga, retired some 60-70 versts, losing touch with the enemy, and on the 25th occupied the so-called Wenden position. The Army lost in prisoners alone some 9,000 men, besides 81 guns, 200 machine-guns, etc. A further advance did not enter into the German plans, and they commenced to establish themselves on the extensive terrain of the right bank of the Dvina, immediately sending off two divisions to the Western Front.

We lost the rich industrial town of Riga, with all its military structures and supplies; more important still, we lost a safe defensive line, the abandonment of which placed both the Dvina Front and the way to Petrograd under a constant threat.

The fall of Riga made a great impression in the country. Quite unexpectedly, however, it called forth from the Revolutionary Democracy, not repentance, not patriotic fervour, but, instead, a still greater bitterness towards the leaders and officers. The Stavka in one communiquÉ[62] inserted the following sentence: “The disorganised masses of the soldiery are flocking in uncontrollable masses along the Pskov high road and the road to Bieder-Limburg.” This statement, undoubtedly true, and neither mentioning nor relating to the causes of the above, raised a storm amongst the Revolutionary Democracy. The Commissars and Committees of the Northern Front sent a series of telegrams refuting the “provocative attacks of the Stavka” and assuring that “there was no shame in this reverse”; that “the troops honestly obey all demands of their leaders ... there have been no cases of flight or treachery on the part of the troops.”

The Commissar for the Front, Stankevitch, while demurring against there being no shame in such a causeless and inglorious retreat, pointed out, amongst other things, a series of errors and delinquencies on the part of the Commanders. It is extremely possible that there were errors, both personal and of leadership, as well as purely objective deficiencies, caused by mutual mistrust, slackening of obedience, and the dÉbÂcle of the technical services. At the same time, it is undoubtedly a fact that the troops of the Northern Front, and especially the 12th Army, were the most disorganised of all, and, logically, could not offer the necessary resistance. Even the apologist of the 12th Army, Commissar Voitinsky, who always considerably exaggerated the fighting value of these troops, telegraphed on the 22nd to the Petrograd Soviet: “The troops show want of confidence in their powers, absence of training for battle, and, consequently, insufficient steadiness in open warfare.... Many units fight bravely, as in the early days; others show signs of weariness and panic.”

Actually, the debauched Northern Front had lost all power of resistance. The troops rolled back to the limit of pursuit by the German advanced detachments, and only moved forward subsequently on losing touch with Hutier’s main body, which had no intention of passing, beyond a definite line.

Meanwhile, all the papers of the Left commenced a fierce campaign against the Stavka and the Commands. The word “treachery” was heard.... Tchernov’s Delo Naroda, a Defeatist paper, complained: “A torturing fear creeps into the mind: are not the mistakes of the commanders, the deficiencies in artillery, and the incapacity of the leaders being unloaded on to the soldiers—courageous, heroic, perishing in thousands.” The Izvestia announced also the motives for the “provocation”: “The Stavka, by putting forth the bogy of menacing events, is trying to terrorise the Provisional Government and make it adopt a series of measures, directly and indirectly aimed at the Revolutionary Democracy and their organisations....”

In conjunction with all these events, the feeling against the Supreme Commander-in-Chief, General Kornilov, was increasing in the Soviets, and rumours of his approaching dismissal appeared in the Press. In answer to these, a series of angry resolutions addressed to the Government, and supporting Kornilov, made their appearance.[63] The resolution of the Council of the Union of Cossack Troops contained even the following passage: “The supersession of Kornilov will inevitably imbue the Cossacks with the fatal impression of the futility of further Cossack sacrifices”; and, further, that the Council “declines all responsibility for the Cossack troops at and behind the Front should Kornilov be removed.”

Such was, then, the situation. Instead of pacification, passions burned fiercer, contradictions increased, the atmosphere of mutual mistrust and morbid suspicion was thickened.

I still postponed my tour of the troops, not abandoning hope of a satisfactory issue to the struggle and of the publication of the “Kornilov programme.”[64]

What could I bring the men? A deep, painful feeling, words appealing to “common-sense and conscience,” concealing my helplessness, and like the voice of one crying in the wilderness? All had been and gone, leaving bitter memories behind. It will always be so: thoughts, ideas, words, moral persuasion will never cease to rouse men to deeds of merit; but what if overgrown, virgin soil must be torn up with an iron plough?... What should I say to the officers, sorrowfully and patiently awaiting the end of the regular and merciless lingering death of the Army? For I could only say to them: If the Government does not radically alter its policy the end of the Army has come.

On the 7th August orders were received to move the Caucasian Native (“Wild”) Division from under my command northwards; on the 12th the same order was received for the 3rd Cavalry Corps, then in Reserve, and later for the Kornilov “shock” Regiment. As always, their destination was not indicated. The direction prescribed, on the other hand, equally pointed to the Northern Front, at that time greatly threatened, and to ... Petrograd. I recommended General Krymov, commanding the 3rd Cavalry Corps, for the command of the 11th Army. The Stavka agreed, but demanded his immediate departure for Moghilev on a special mission. On his way there Krymov reported to me. Apparently he had not yet received definite instructions—at any rate, he spoke of none; however, neither he nor I doubted that the mission was in connection with the expected change in military policy. Krymov was at this time cheerful and confident, and had faith in the future; as formerly, he considered that only a crushing blow to the Soviets could save the situation.

Following on this, official information was received of the formation of the Detached Petrograd Army, and the appointment of an officer of the General Staff to be Quartermaster-General of this Army was desired.

Finally, about the 20th, the situation became somewhat clearer. An officer reported to me at Berdichev, and handed me a personal letter from Kornilov, wherein the latter suggested I should hear this officer’s verbal report. He stated as follows:

“According to reliable information, a rising of the Bolsheviks will take place at the end of August. By this time the 3rd Cavalry Corps,[65] commanded by Krymov, would reach Petrograd, would crush the rising, and simultaneously put an end to the Soviets.”[66]

Simultaneously, Petrograd would be proclaimed in a state of war, and the laws resulting from the “Kornilov programme” would be published. The Supreme Commander-in-Chief requested me to despatch to the Stavka a score or more of reliable officers—officially “for trench mortar instruction”; actually they would be sent to Petrograd, and incorporated in the Officers’ Detachment.

In the course of the conversation he communicated the news from the Stavka, painting all in glowing colours. He told me, among other things, of rumours concerning new appointments to the Kiev, Odessa and Moscow commands, and of the proposed new Government, mentioning some existing ministers, and some names entirely unknown to me. The part played in this matter by the Provisional Government, in particular by Kerensky, was not clear. Had he decided on an abrupt change of military policy, would he resign, or would he be swept away by developments impossible of prediction by pure logic, or the most prophetic common sense?

In this volume I described the entire course of events during August in that sequence and in that light, in which these tragic days were experienced on the South-Western Front, not giving them the perspective of the stage and the actors acquired subsequently.

The seconding of the officers—with all precautions to prevent either them or their superiors being placed in a false position—was commenced, but it is hardly likely that it could have been accomplished by the 27th. Not one Army Commander was supplied by me with the information I had received; in fact, not one of the senior officers at the front knew anything of the events brewing.

It was clear that the history of the Russian Revolution had entered on a new phase. What would the future bring? General Markov and I spent many hours discussing this subject. He—nervous, hot-headed and impetuous—constantly wavered between the extremes of hope and fear. I also felt much the same; and both of us quite clearly saw and felt the fatal inevitability of a crisis. The Soviets—Bolshevists or semi-Bolshevists, no matter which—would unfailingly bring Russia to her doom. A conflict was unavoidable. But over there, was there an actual chance, or was everything being done in heroic desperation?

General Kornilov’s welcome in Moscow.