These Canadians, in peace, had probably been kindly disposed farm

folk, gathering the rich bronzed harvests of Saskatchewan fields.

But four years of war had wrought a transfiguration of many things

and no longer did life have its exalted value of peace times. No,

life was a very cheap affair, but, cheap as it was, its taking often

made exhilarating sport. At the end of a battle these quiet

Saskatchewan swains passed among the enemy dead like ghoulish things,

stripping bodies of everything valuable, and adorning themselves with

enemy boots and picturesque high fur hats, with abounding glee, like

school boys on a hilarious holiday.

Yet there was nothing debased or vicious about these Canadians. They

were undeliberate, unpremeditated murderers, who had learned well the

nice lessons of war and looked upon killing as the climax of a day's

adventure, a welcomed break in the tedium of the dull military

routine. Generous hearted, hardy, whole-souled murderers; I wonder

how they have returned to the prosy days of peace, where courage

counts for little, and men are judged not by the searching rules of

war, but by the superficial standards of secure being; and living is

soft and slow, an affair of rounding chores, with few stirring

moments to illumine the dull routine of most of us.

At the outset, the Canadians and a few inaccurate Russians were our

only artillery. Two months after the commencement of the campaign,

two Four Point Five howitzers, with British personnel, joined the

Allied Forces, and there were several airplanes, considered obsolete

for use in France, but good enough for the Arctic sideshow.

The air pilots were daring and courageous men, but, besides being

hopelessly handicapped by defective machines, they complained that

the forests of North Russia made definite discernment of the ground a

very difficult thing. The facts are that they dropped several bombs

on our own lines, and twice with tragic disaster. There was never

any apparent reason to believe that the airplanes caused the enemy

even passing uneasiness, but we were always agitated as their

menacing drone approached, always grateful when they trailed off to

distant skies.

The complete combat command of the Commanding General of the Allied

North Russian Expedition at the outset of the campaign was then:

One regiment of American Infantry,

One brigade of British Infantry,

One battalion of French Infantry,

Two sections of French Seventy-Fives,

Two sections of French machine gunners,

One brigade (487 men) Canadian Field Artillery,

One armored train,

One 155 millimetre and

One 77 millimetre Russian howitzers.

There were a few groups of Russian Infantry with the Allied troops,

but at the outset these did not number over three hundred men. In

all, there were approximately nine thousand five hundred combat

troops.

With this force, the Allied Commander proposed to engage in an

aggressive campaign, to drive the enemy before him and follow up

along the two main ways of ingress to the interior. Troops were at

once dispatched down the railway to penetrate as far as the city of

Vologda four hundred miles to the south, and other troops were sent

by tug and barge up the Dvina River, with Kotlas, three hundred miles

southeast, as their immediate objective. From Kotlas, there is a

branch railway leading two hundred fifty miles further south to the

Trans-Siberian at Viatka.

When their missions were accomplished, the Railway Force at Vologda

would be nearly due east of the Dvina Force at Viatka, and distanced

four hundred miles across the Trans-Siberian railway.

Beyond this stage, the Allied plan was somewhat hazy. It

contemplated rather vagrantly a fusion with the Czecho-slovaks along

the Siberian railway, after penetration south to this trunk line.

A volunteer brigade of these adventurous soldiers who had been

Austro-Hungarian prisoners, but whose whole-souled sympathy was with

the Allies, organized in their native Bohemia and Moravia, and joined

General Broussiloff in the spring of 1917 to take part in the victory

of Zborow near Lemberg. Moving to the railway between Kiev and

Poltava in the Ukraine, the brigade recruited more Czech prisoners in

Russia until it had grown to the strength of two divisions.

After the peace of Brest-Litovsk, this army corps pushed forward to

the middle Volga in the direction of Kazan and Samara intending to

reach Vladivostok and sail from there to join the Allied Command in

France.

The Soviet authorities promised them safe convoy over the Siberian

railway, but instead, treacherously attacked at Irkutsk in Siberia on

26th May, 1918, and the Czechs then divided into two groups, one

determined to fight through to Vladivostok, the other under General

Gaida bent upon joining the Allied invasion from Archangel.

Although this last aim was not realized (and would have profited

little if it had been) the Czechs performed a service of inestimable

consequence to the Allies by acting in conjunction with the

Anti-Bolshevik Siberian troops, and with the small Allied Eastern

Expedition of Great Britain, Japan and the United States, in holding

the Trans-Siberian open from Omsk to the coast, so preventing the

transportation of many thousands of German prisoners back to Germany.

When the Archangel fiasco was brought to a close they withdrew to

their own country in October, 1919. And, reviewing the whole

unproductive Russian effort in retrospect, the Czechs came closest

towards a realization of the mythical "Eastern Front," for, while

they could not engage in aggressive action, they did much by negative

methods, denying Germany great numbers of returning soldiers that

might have been welded into a considerable effective combat force for

the Western theatres of war had they been free to enter their country

from the Eastern frontier.

The hopelessness of a junction between the Archangel Expedition and

the Czechs became certain at the beginning of the northern campaign,

and General Poole was advised by the British War Intelligence that

Gaida had been driven back in Samara five hundred miles from Viatka

and could advance no farther before the commencement of winter.

Still the optimistic Allied Staff clung tenaciously to the belief

that all the Anti-Bolshevik Russians could be joined, the Czechs, the

Cossacks that General Denekin had organized between the northern

Caucasus and the sea of Azov, and a group of loyal officers of the

Imperial Army with General Korniloff along the Don. It was within

the Allied range of possibilities that all these scattered groups

might join the British, French and Americans on the Siberian railway,

and after the Staff was thoroughly committed to an offensive

campaign, there arose the hope of cooperation from the friendly

Russian forces in Siberia. On 18th September, 1918, at Ufa, there

was a meeting of representatives from the Governments of Archangel,

Eastern and Western Siberia, Samara and Vologda, which purported to

form a Central government of all Russia, and to restore the

Constituent Assembly.

On 25th October, this group moved to Omsk, created Admiral Kolchak

Military Dictator 18th November, and proposed to raise a strong armed

force to purge Russia of Bolshevism for all time.

The Allied governments were quick to recognize this Omsk group as the

de facto government of Russia.

It was hoped that the armies of Admiral Kolchak could get in

communication with the Allied Forces working down from the Arctic.

This, then, was the culmination of the first stage of the campaign:

There was to be a junction of the Americans, French and British from

the North; Czecho-Slovaks, and the armies of Kolchak from the East;

Korniloff and Denekin from the South. Tens of thousands of patriotic

Russians were to join the colors of these armies, converging

somewhere on the Trans-Siberian, between Perm and Vologda; from

Vologda the way would be unopposed to Petrograd, and from Petrograd

the Allied-Russian legions would move on and reconstruct the Eastern

front, threatening Germany from the northeast!

There was nothing lacking in the imagination of the plans of the

Allied High Command, whatever else might be said about them.

The Northern Expedition with great combative esprit set forth

vigorously to traverse Archangel the whole length of the province by

river and railway with two "Columns" which were even to penetrate

well into Vologda Province. Starting from Archangel, the Dvina river

and the Vologda railway rapidly diverged east and west, so that at

the first point of contact with the enemy, the two main bodies of the

invader were seventy-five miles apart; and if their object, i.e., to

reach the Trans-Siberian had been realized, they would have been four

hundred miles apart on that railway.

There was no wire communication between these Allied Railway and

River Forces, and of course liaison over the lateral terrain

impassable swamp in fall, and a field of deep floundering snow in

winter, was impossible.

As the invasion developed, the two columns of necessity operated as

independent expeditions, with no attempt at establishing connection.

To reach their joint objective, the Siberian railway, it was

necessary for the River Force to travel one hundred fifty more miles

than the Railway Force. Moreover ice was expected during the first

part of November, and if Kotlas was to be taken by the river, it was

necessary to advance the three hundred miles in scarcely six weeks

from the time of leaving Archangel.

When forced to assume the defensive in the late fall, the Dvina

Column was nearly fifty miles in advance of the Railway front

position, and the Vaga Column, an intervening force that was found

necessary to prevent an enemy rearward movement on the river, was

fifty miles in advance of the Dvina Column.

Lacking any effective communication between bodies of troops, the

military incursion was expected to penetrate an unknown alien

country, where there proved to be far more hostile sentiment than

friendly cooperation.

There was no reconnaissance of the country; no physical inventory of

the lay of the land; no reliable military maps; no knowledge of the

paths through the swamp-bottomed forests; no information of the

roads. Many an early attack was lost because the frontal advance

failed to get support of the flanking party that became hopelessly

mired in the deep marshes and never got to the fight.

The climatic conditions were a permanent obstacle to an offensive

campaign. When the snow came and the weather grew intensely cold,

even if we had possessed the necessary men, it would have been

madness to think of an offensive in the open. Then it was possible

only to dig in and hold on.

Yet despite the intense sub-zero weather there was little trouble

with the field guns which during the most severe days recoiled and

ran up without any jar. Moreover, there was not so much suffering

from the cold as might be supposed. The Command thought that the

Siberian railway would be reached before the serious winter set in,

nevertheless the expedition was excellently well equipped for the

Arctic weather. Soldiers were issued long fur lined coats, fur hats

and had an abundance of other good warm clothing and plenty of

blankets. The men from Northern Wisconsin and the Michigan peninsula

did not mind greatly the severe winter days. There was some frost

bite from unavoidable exposure, and much terrible privation in the

defensive actions; but on the whole the Allied soldiers withstood the

cold as well as the Bolsheviks.

The strength of the enemy was an unknown factor. So were his

positions and his dispositions. There were no supports, no reserves.

The base of the invading army in Russia was Archangel, a fortnight's

journey from the far-most front and nearly three thousand miles from

the main base in England; Archangel, in complete isolation during the

six months of winter.

There were no reinforcements at Archangel ready to relieve the jaded

soldiers so far away, who had to continue doing double duty and

fighting against greatly superior numbers with no promise of relief.

More important than the objective fact was the thought of being thus

forsaken that froze the soldier's heart and numbed his brain and

never left him through the long blackness of the days. It was the

same feeling of palsied hopelessness that comes over the city bred

man who finds himself lost in the wilderness. The soldier felt he

was abandoned by his country, that he was forgotten and left to his

fate in the grisly plain of pitiless, white Russia.

Then there was no diversion, no break in the gloomy, monotonous,

despairing hours; no relaxation from the ceaseless vigilance in the

guard against surprise attack; no respite from the constant threat of

annihilation. The drear, sorrow freighted clouds menaced death.

There was the message of Death across the bleak, endless, desolate

snows. Death haunted the shrouded, hopeless days, and in the shadow

of the encircling forests, Death waited. It was the most severe

strain to which human intelligence could be subjected.

Many lessons were learned in the war, and none so clearly as the one

that human endurance cannot be taxed beyond capacity without a

resultant of diminishing military returns.

In France it soon became a corollary, universally accepted by all the

Staffs, that men could not be subjected to the strain of continuing

horrors and uninterrupted drain of physical resources without a

pronounced lowering of fighting morale. It was calculated to a

nicety how long a soldier could endure mental shocks and suffer

hardships until his nervous system snapped and his distraught brain

could tolerate no more.

These things were all weighed in the precise scales at the

laboratories of the war establishment and provision was made for

human limitations, so that there grew up three units in every combat

army. One of them attacking, or standing the brunt of enemy assault;

another in the supporting trenches, to be used in great emergency,

but most important of all to become accustomed to the terrifying

effect of the big guns; and a third that was far back, where there

was a warm bath and clean clothes, peace in the sky and the soft

grass still grew green, where men drank deep their little day of

life, and found oblivion from the animal filth and unspeakable

griefs, the awful hideousness of modern warfare. It came to be

recognized that reliefs of troops on the combat first lines were as

necessary as ammunition and ration supply.

But there were few and in some cases there were no reliefs for

fighting men in North Russia, because there was no support unit from

which to draw reliefs, and no reserve unit to call forth from the

rear for those at the front.

The Russian Expedition, if its object was to drive the Bolsheviks

clear of Archangel Province and south of the Siberian railway,

required for execution of this object an army corps with entire

component of artillery, and in this war with Russia, Great Britain

and France and the United States failed because of:

1. Inadequate forces in the Allied Command.

This was not only true with respect to numbers, but also with respect

to armament and equipment.

We had no artillery support. We were outgunned from the outset and

continued to have marked artillery inferiority throughout the

campaign. Time after time, the infantry, after gallant success, was

shelled out of position, while our own guns were silent because

outranged. The effect on the morale was most disastrous.

On the River Front, there were three Allied gunboats which cooperated

effectively during the first days, but during the latter part of

October, when the fight began, these withdrew to Archangel in fear of

becoming caught by the ice which formed at the mouth of the Dvina,

and then moved slowly upstream against the strong current.

It took a week for this ice barrier to travel one hundred miles

against the course of the river, so that the enemy had unhindered

opportunity to bring up his artillery mounted on watercraft, which he

did, and blasted our positions for two weeks after the Allied boats

had gone back to winter quarters.

Nothing was more discouraging than this hopeless inferiority in long

range guns. Assaulting troops, no matter how spirited and

courageous, cannot hold their advance in the teeth of a bombardment

that scatters emplacements like chaff before the wind and shocks men

into a state of insensibility. The stunning effect of massive, high

explosives is more important than the casualties caused by direct

hits. Nerves are palsied, then fly from control under unremitting

blasting salvos. Fortifications are blown to atoms, and debris

thrown up like vomit in a deafening belch, a bolt of hottest hell;

while the earth quivers like a frightened living thing. And if

modern warfare has demonstrated one thing more than any other, it is

the prime necessity of artillery support, especially during the

attack. After three years' experience, the French and British Staffs

laid down the rule that for an offensive to be made with any hope of

success, there should be a field gun covering every ten yards of the

objective and a heavy gun every thirty yards.

The British provided fifty-six heavy guns and howitzers per division,

and of these twenty-nine were six inch and over.

The French had fifty-eight guns in each division, forty-six of which

were six inch and over.

These divisions were made up of two brigades of two regiments each, a

total of fourteen thousand four hundred men.

The Americans in France had two regiments of 75 mm. guns and one

regiment of 155 mm. guns for every combat division on the first

lines. At Archangel there was not a six inch gun in the Allied

Command until the late days of spring when the Americans were

evacuated. There was only the Russian naval howitzer on the armored

train. And the only other heavy guns were two Four Point Five

howitzers of the 41st Royal Field Artillery.

Besides this fatal lack of artillery, the Allied Command was

miserably supplied with other armament. In the early days we had

only a few machine guns and these were Vickers, with water cooled

system, that became frozen and would not function in the severe cold.

We had few Trench Mortars and no rifle grenades or hand grenades.

But most disheartening of all were the Russian rifles issued to the

infantry. They were manufactured in our country by the million for

use of the Imperial Army; long, awkward pieces, with flimsy, bolt

mechanism, that frequently jammed.

These weapons had never been targeted by the Americans, and their

sighting systems were calculated in Russian paces instead of yards.

They had a low velocity and were thoroughly unsatisfactory. The

unreliability of the rifle, prime arm of the infantry, was an

important factor in the lowering of Allied morale.

2. Underestimation of the enemy forces and his military capacity.

The Allied military authorities looked with contempt upon the

Bolshevik movement, and viewed it as simply a sporadic outburst of

outlawry that would pass like all disorganized brigandry.

The facts were that this war was waged against the government of the

Russian people. The de facto authority was in the hands of Lenine

and Trotsky at Moscow. The Omsk group was distinctly an expression

of the minority and the ancient Imperialists who were obstinately

impervious to the new Russia flaming in revolution against age long

abuses and tyrannies of the old order that could never be returned.

The Omsk group never quickened any popular response. It lacked

essential authority. The spectacular success of Admiral Kolchak

before Perm was not followed through, and his government waned while

the Bolsheviks grew in strength every day.

The Soviet army was despised as an undisciplined rabble, without

equipment or officers or commissary organization. But the Bolshevik

soldier was as well equipped as we were, and incomparably superior in

the larger arms. He was often better rationed, and sometimes led

better.

During the winter of 1919, Trotsky, an outstanding military genius,

raised from the Kerensky rabble an army of one million men, which

William C. Bullit of our State Department saw in March of that year

at Moscow, and described as thoroughly soldierly looking, thoroughly

trained, well rationed, and well provided for.

From Moscow to Vologda, is less than three hundred miles by the

railway which continues straight to Archangel. Why the Soviets did

not concentrate a division on the railway, move straight to Archangel

and leave the scattered Allied battalions bottled up in the interior

is one of the many mysteries of the Expedition.

In February, Omberovitch, the Commander of the Bolshevik Northern

army, announced that he would hurl the foreign invader into the White

Sea and concentrated over seven thousand men in an attack on

Shenkurst, the Allied position on the Vaga river. This force was ten

times the strength of the defenders, who were driven back verst by

verst over the deep snows to Kitsa, sixty miles down the river, and

the Allied Staff prepared rearward positions in anticipation of

withdrawal about Archangel and a last stand there a few weeks later.

The enemy struck again with overpowering numbers at Bolshie Ozerki

near the Railway.

But he never consolidated his success. For some inscrutable reason

withheld the knockout blow, and, before he could reorganize for

another advance, spring came with the _nasta_ or thaw, and he had to

pull back his artillery or abandon it in the bog. He also brought

great forces in November to the assault of the River position, and

attacked the Railway in spring with large numbers and with great

vigor; but despite his vast superiority in guns, and his great

advantage in strength, he could not, or _did not_, break through to

complete victory and destroy our scattered, weakened battalions.

Perhaps one reason the Bolsheviks did not massacre the puny Allied

forces was because the nature of conditions in North Russia did not

permit the concentration of great masses for the attack. The little

villages, even with greatest crowding, could only house a few hundred

men. Except at Shenkurst, where the most ambitious thrust was made,

there was shelter for only a few thousand soldiers, and shelter was

as essential as rations in this war of the Arctic.

Another reason may have been that Lenine had sagacity and imagination

enough to know that a complete massacre would have fired the people

of Great Britain and France and America with burning indignation and

a demand for revenge which their governments could not deny. Better

to whittle away the little Allied company by methods of attrition.

There was no prize in Archangel. The Bolsheviks had stripped that

city of everything valuable long before the Allies came to Russia.

3. Ignorance of the military commitment.

The difficulties of conducting an offensive campaign in Archangel

province were at the outset not understood or realized by Allied

Headquarters.

Military men have asked me why the Commanding General did not, if

determined upon an aggressive warfare, concentrate his small numbers

for an advance on the Vologda railway, leaving a cordon of well

fortified outposts about Archangel, sufficiently distant to protect

the city from artillery bombardment.

By such a method, he could have held his little force well in hand,

would have safeguarded Archangel and fulfilled the real mission of

the expedition (if guarding Archangel was the mission), with small

cost and few casualties.

The answer to this is that British Headquarters was determined upon

an offensive program, and committed itself to a punitive chase of the

Bolsheviks, regardless of the nature of such an undertaking, heedless

of where it led, blind to consequences.

As the Allies pushed into this unknown country, it became apparent

that between the two Columns advancing by the Dvina river and by the

railway, there stretched a great, unsounded territory, entirely

unreconnoitered, and through which by many routes, the enemy could

threaten the tenuous unguarded lines of communication with Archangel.

Archangel: The American War with Russia · 第 3 / 13 段