MY TERM AS COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF ON THE WESTERN RUSSIAN FRONT.
I took over the Command from General Gourko. His removal had already
been decided on May 5th, and an Order of the Day had been drafted at
the War Ministry. Gourko, however, sent a report in which he stated
that it was impossible for him to remain morally responsible for the
armies under his command in the present circumstances (after the
"Declaration of the Soldier's Rights" had been issued). This report
afforded Kerensky an excuse for issuing on May 26th an order relieving
Gourko of his post and appointing him to the command of a division. The
motive was adduced that Gourko was "not up to the mark," and that "as
the country was in danger, every soldier should do his duty and not be
an example of weakness to others." Also that "the Commander-in-Chief
enjoys the full confidence of the Government, and should apply all his
energies to the task of carrying out the intentions of the Government;
to decline to bear the moral responsibility was on General Gourko's
part tantamount to dereliction of duty, which he should have continued
to perform according to his strength and judgment." Not to speak of
the fact that Gourko's dismissal had already been decided, suffice
it to recall similar instances, such as the resignations of Gutchkov
and Miliukov, in order to realise the hypocrisy of these excuses. And
what is more--Kerensky himself, during one of the Government crises
caused by the uncompromising attitude of the "Revolutionary Democracy,"
had threatened to resign, and had stated in writing to his would-be
successor, Nekrassov, that: "Owing to the impossibility of introducing
into the Government such elements as were required in the present
exceptional circumstances, he could no longer bear the responsibility
before the country according to his conscience and judgment, and
requested therefore to be relieved of all his duties." The papers said
that he had "departed from Petrograd." On October 28th, as we know,
Kerensky fled, abandoning the post of Supreme Commander-in-Chief.
The old Commanding Staffs were in a difficult position. I refer not
to men of definite political convictions, but of the average honest
soldier. They could not follow Kerensky (the system, not the man) and
destroy with their own hands the edifice which they had themselves
spent their lives in building. They could not resign because the enemy
was on Russian soil and they would be deserters according to their own
conscience. It was a vicious circle.
Upon my arrival at Minsk I addressed two large gatherings of members of
the Staff and departments of the Front, and later the Army Commanders,
and expounded my fundamental views. I did not say much, but stated
clearly that I accepted the Revolution without any reservations. I
considered, however, that to "revolutionise" the Army was a fatal
procedure, and that to introduce demagogy into the Army would mean the
ruin of the Country. I declared that I would oppose it with all my
might and invited my collaborators to do the same. I received a letter
from General Alexeiev, who wrote: "Congratulations on your appointment.
Rouse them! Make your demands calmly but persistently. I trust that
the revival will come without coaxing, without red ribbons, without
sonorous and empty phrases. The Army cannot continue as it is now,
for Russia is being transformed into a multitude of idlers who have
an exaggerated idea of their own importance (value their movements in
gold). I am in heart and in thought with you, with your work and with
your wishes. God help you."
The Committee of the Front impersonated at Minsk "Military Politics."
On the eve of my arrival that semi-Bolshevik organisation had passed a
resolution protesting against an advance and in favour of the struggle
of united democracies against their Governments; this naturally helped
to define my attitude towards that body. I had no direct intercourse
with the Committee, which "stewed in its own juice," argued the
matter of preponderant influences of the Social Democratic and Social
Revolutionary factions, passed resolutions which puzzled even the
Army Committees by their demagogic contents, distributed defeatist
pamphlets, and incensed the men against their chiefs. According to the
law, the Committees were not responsible and could not be tried. The
Committee was educating in the same sense the pupils of the "school
for agitators," who were afterwards to spread these doctrines along
the Front. I will quote one instance showing the real meaning of these
manifestations "of civic indignation and sorrow." Pupils of the
school often appealed to the Chief-of-Staff and sent in "demands."
On one occasion the demand for an extra pair of boots was couched
in offensive terms. General Markov refused it. On the next day a
resolution was published (in the paper _The Front_, No. 25) of the
Conference of Pupils of the School of Agitators to the effect that they
had personally tested the reluctance of Headquarters to take elective
organisations into account. The pupils declared that the Committee of
the Front will find in them and in those who sent them full support
against "counter-revolution," and even armed assistance.
Was work in common possible in these circumstances?
The idea of the advance was finally, however, accepted by the Committee
of the Front, which demanded that from itself and from Army Committees
"fighting committees of contact" be established which would be entitled
to partake in the drafting of plans of operations to control the
Commanding Officers and Headquarters of the advancing troops, etc. I
naturally refused the request, and a conflict ensued. The War Minister
was very much perturbed, and sent to Minsk the Chief of his Chancery,
Colonel Baronovsky, a young staff officer who prompted Kerensky in
all military matters, and the Commissar Stankevitch, who remained at
the Western Front for two days, was removed to the Northern Front and
replaced by Kalinin. Baronovsky's friends afterwards told me that the
question of my dismissal had been raised in view of "friction with
the Committee of the Front." Stankevitch appeased the Committee and
"fighting committees of contact" were allowed to take part in the
advance, but were denied the right of control over the operations and
of assisting in drawing up plans.
* * * * *
Of the three Army Commanders at that Front, two were entirely in the
hands of the Committees. As their sectors were inactive, their presence
could be temporarily tolerated. The advance was to begin on the Front
of the 10th Army, commanded by General Kisselevsky, in the region of
Molodetchno. I inspected the troops and the position, interviewed the
Commanding Officers and addressed the troops. In the preceding chapters
I have recounted impressions, facts, and episodes of the life of the
Western front. I will, therefore, mention here only a few details. I
saw the troops on parade. Some units had preserved the appearance and
the routine of the normal pre-Revolutionary times. These, however, were
exceptions, and were to be found chiefly in the Army Corps of General
Dovbor-Mussnitzki, who was persistently and sternly maintaining
the old discipline. Most of the units, however, were more akin to a
devastated ants-nest than to an organised unit, although they had
retained a semblance of discipline and drill. After the review I walked
down the ranks and spoke to the soldiers. I was deeply depressed by
their new mental attitude. Their speeches were nought but endless
complaints, suspicions and grievances against everyone and everything.
They complained of all the officers, from the Platoon Commander to the
Army Corps Commander, complained of the lentil soup, of having to stand
at the Front for ever, of the next regiment of the line, and of the
Provisional Government for being implacably hostile to the Germans. I
witnessed scenes which I shall not forget till my last hour. In one of
the Army Corps I asked to be shown the worst unit. I was taken to the
703rd Suram Regiment. We drove up to a huge crowd of unarmed men who
were standing, sitting, wandering about the plain behind the village.
Having sold their clothes for cash or for drink, they were dressed in
rags, bare-footed, ragged, unkempt, and seemed to have reached the
utmost limit of physical degradation. I was met by the Divisional
Commander, whose lower lip trembled, and by a Regimental Commander who
had the face of a condemned man. Nobody gave the order "Attention!"
and none of the soldiers rose. The nearest ranks moved towards our
motor cars. My first impulse was to curse the regiment and turn back.
But that might have been interpreted as cowardice, so I went into the
thick of the crowd. I stayed there for about an hour. Good Heavens,
what was the matter with these men, with the reasonable creature of
God, with the Russian field-labourer? They were like men possessed,
their brain dimmed, their speech stubborn and completely lacking logic
or common-sense; their shrieks were hysterical, full of abuse and foul
swearing. We tried to speak, but the replies were angry and stupid. I
remember that my feelings of indignation as an old soldier receded to
the background and I merely felt infinitely sorry for these uncouth,
illiterate Russians to whom little was given and of whom little will,
therefore, be asked. One wished that the leaders of the Revolutionary
Democracy had been on that plain and had seen and heard everything. One
wished one could have said to them: "It is not the time to find out who
is guilty, it doesn't matter whether the guilt is ours, yours, of the
bourgeoisie or of autocracy. Give the people education and an 'image of
man' first, and then socialise, nationalise, Communise, if the people
will then follow you."
The same Suram Regiment, a few days later, gave a sound thrashing to
Sokolov, the man who drafted Order No. 1, the creator of the new
régime for the Army, because he demanded, in the name of the Soviet,
that the regiment should do its duty and join in the advance.
After visiting the regiment, in compliance with persistent invitations
from a special delegation, I went to a Conference of the 2nd Caucasian
Army Corps. The members of that Conference had been elected; their
discussions were more reasonable and their aims more practical. Among
the various groups of delegates whom our _aides-de-camp_ had joined,
the argument was put forward that, as the Commander-in-Chief and all
the senior Commanding Officers were present, would it not be expedient
to finish them off at once? That would put an end to the advance.
To meet the senior Commanding Officer was by no means a consolation.
One of the Army Corps Commanders led his troops with a firm hand, but
experienced strong pressure from the Army organisations; another was
afraid to visit his troops. I found the third in a state of complete
collapse and in tears because someone had passed a vote of censure
upon him: "And this after forty years' service! I loved the men and
they loved me, but now they have dishonoured me, and I cannot serve
any longer!" I had to allow him to retire. In the next room a young
Divisional Commander was already in secret consultation with members
of the Committee, who immediately requested me, in a most peremptory
fashion, to appoint the young General to the command of the Army Corps.
The visit left me with a painful impression. Disruption was growing and
my hopes were waning; and yet one had to continue the work, of which
there was plenty for all of us. The Western Front lived by theory and
by the experience of others. It had won no striking victories, which
alone can inspire confidence in the methods of warfare, and had no
real experience in breaking through the defensive line of the enemy.
One was very often compelled to discuss the general plan, the plan
of artillery attack, and to establish the points of initiative with
those who were to carry out the general plan. We found the greatest
difficulty in preparing the plans for storming a position. Owing to
demoralisation, every movement of troops, every relief, trench digging,
bringing batteries into position, either were not carried out at all,
or else attended by delays, tremendous efforts or persuasion, and
meetings. Every slightest excuse was made use of in order to avoid
preparations for the advance. Owing to the technical unpreparedness
of the positions, the chiefs had to perform the arduous and unnatural
task of making tactical considerations subservient to the qualities
of the Commanding Officers, instead of giving directions to the
troops in accordance with tactical considerations. The degree of the
demoralisation of different units and the condition of different
sectors of a given firing line, purely accidental, had also to be taken
into account. And yet the statement that our technical backwardness
was one of the reasons of our collapse in 1917 should be accepted with
reservations. Of course, our Army was backward, but in 1917 it was
infinitely better equipped, had more guns and ammunition and wider
experience of her own and of other fronts than in 1916. Our technical
backwardness was a relative factor which was present at all times in
the Great War before the Revolution, but was remedied in 1917, and
cannot, therefore, be taken into account as a decisive feature in
estimating the Russian Revolutionary Army and its work in the field.
It was the work of Sisyphus. The Commanding Officers gave their heart
and soul to the work because in its success they saw the last ray
of hope for the salvation of the Army and of the country. Technical
difficulties could be overcome, as long as the moral could be raised.
Brussilov arrived and addressed the regiment. As a result, the officer
commanding the 10th Army was relieved against my will ten days before
the decisive advance. And it was not without difficulty that I secured
the appointment of General Lomnovsky, the gallant Commander of the
8th Army Corps, who had arrived at the Front ten days before the
action. There was an unpleasant misunderstanding about Brussilov's
visit. Headquarters had mistakenly informed the troops that Kerensky
was coming. This substitution provoked strong discontent among the
troops. Many units declared that they were being deceived, and that
unless Comrade Kerensky himself orders them to advance they would
not advance. The 2nd Caucasian Division sent delegates to Petrograd
to make inquiries. And efforts had to be made to appease them by
promising that Comrade Kerensky was due to arrive in a few days. The
War Minister had to be invited. Kerensky came reluctantly, because he
was already disillusioned by the failure of his oratorical campaign
on the South-Western Front. For several days he reviewed the troops,
delivered speeches, was enthusiastically received and sometimes
unexpectedly rebuked. He interrupted his tour, as he was invited to
hurry to Petrograd on July 4th, but he returned with renewed energy and
with a new up-to-date theme, making full use of the "knife with which
the Revolution had been stabbed in the back" (the Petrograd rising of
July 3rd-5th). Having, however, completed his tour and returned to the
Stavka, he emphatically declared to Brussilov:
"I have no faith whatsoever in the success of the advance."
Kerensky was equally pessimistic in those days with regard to
another matter, the future destinies of the country. He discussed in
conversation with myself and two or three of his followers, the stages
of the Russian Revolution, and expressed the conviction that whatever
happened we should not escape the Reign of Terror. The days went by and
the advance was further delayed. As early as on June 18th, I issued the
following Order of the Day to the Armies of my Front:
"The Russian Army of the South-Western Front have this day defeated
the enemy and broken through his lines. A decisive battle has begun
on which depends the fate of the Russian people and of its liberties.
Our brethren on the South-Western Front are victoriously advancing,
sacrificing their lives and expecting us to render them speedy
assistance. We shall not be traitors. The enemy shall soon hear the
roaring of our guns. I appeal to the troops of the Western Front to
make every effort and to prepare as soon as possible for an advance,
otherwise we shall be cursed by the Russian people who have entrusted
to us the defence of their liberty, honour, and property."
I do not know whether those who read this order, published in the
papers in complete contravention of all the conditions of secrecy
of operation, understood all the inner tragedy of the Russian Army.
All strategy was turned topsy-turvy. The Russian Commander-in-Chief,
powerless to advance his troops and thus alleviate the position of
the neighbouring Front, wanted (even at the cost of exposing his
intentions) to hold the German divisions which were being moved from
his Front and sent to the South-Western and the Allied Front.
The Germans responded immediately by sending the following proclamation
to the Front:
"Russian soldiers! Your Commander-in-Chief of the Western Front is
again calling on you to fight. We know of his order, and also know
of the false report that our line to the South-East of Lvov has been
broken. Do not believe it. In reality thousands of Russian corpses are
lying before our trenches. An advance will never lead to peace. If,
nevertheless, you obey the call of your commanders, who are bribed by
England, then we shall continue the struggle until you are overthrown."
Finally, on July 8th, the thunder of our guns was heard. On July 9th
the storming began, and three days after I was on my way from the 10th
Army to Minsk, with despair in my heart, and clearly recognising that
the last hope of a miracle was gone.