The Russian Turmoil; Memoirs: Military, Social, and Political. Anton Ivanovich Denikin
I must, however, admit that in those days the military circles proved sufficiently stolid in spite of all the efforts to dismember them, and that the seeds of demoralisation were not allowed to grow. Men of the type described above, such as the young assistant of the War Minister, Kerensky, as well as Generals Brussilov, Cheremissov, Bonch-Bruevitch, Verkhovsky, Admiral Maximov and others were unable to strengthen their influence and their position with the officers.
The citizen of Petrograd, in the broadest sense of the word, was by no means enthusiastic. The first enthusiasm was exhausted and was followed by anxiety and indecision.
Another feature of the life in Petrograd deserves to be noticed. Men have ceased to be themselves. Most of them seem to be acting a part instead of living a life inspired by the new breath of revolution. Such was the case even in the Councils of the Provisional Government, in which the deliberations were not altogether sincere, so I was told, owing to the presence of Kerensky, the “hostage of democracy.” Tactical considerations, caution, partisanship, anxiety for one’s career, feelings of self-preservation, nervousness and various other good and bad feelings prompted men to wear blinkers and to walk about in these blinkers as apologists for, or at least passive witnesses of, “the conquests of the Revolution.” Such conquests as obviously savoured of death and corruption. Hence the false pathos of endless speeches and meetings; hence these seemingly strange contradictions. Prince Lvov saying in a public speech: “The process of the great Russian Revolution is not yet complete, but every day strengthens our faith in the inexhaustible creative forces of the Russian people, in its statesmanlike wisdom and in the greatness of its soul.” … The same Prince Lvov bitterly complaining to Alexeiev of the impossible conditions under which the Provisional Government was working, owing to the rapid growth of demagogy in the Soviet and in the country. Kerensky, the exponent of the idea of Soldiers’ Committees, and Kerensky sitting in his railway carriage and nervously whispering to his adjutant: “Send these d … committees to h. …” Tchkheidze and Skobelev warmly advocating full democratisation of the army at a joint sitting of the Soviet, of the Government and of the Commanders-in-Chief, and during an interval in private conversation admitting the necessity of rigid military discipline and of their own incapacity to convince the Soviet of this necessity. …
I repeat that even then, at the end of March, one could clearly feel in Petrograd that the ringing of the Easter bells had lasted too long, and that they would have done better to ring the alarm bell. There were only two men of all those to whom I had the occasion to speak who had no illusions whatever: Krymov and Kornilov.
I met Kornilov for the first time on the Galician plains, near Galtich, at the end of August, 1914, when he was appointed to the Command of the 48th Infantry Division and myself to the 4th (Iron) Rifle Brigade. Since that day, for four months, our troops went forward side by side as part of the 14th Corps, fighting incessant, glorious and heavy battles, defeating the enemy, crossing the Carpathians and invading Hungary. Owing to the wide extent of the front we did not often meet; nevertheless, we knew each other very well. I had already then a clear perception of Kornilov’s main characteristics as a leader. He had an extraordinary capacity for training troops: out of a second-rate unit from the district of Kazan he made, in several weeks, an excellent fighting division. He was resolute and extremely pertinacious in conducting the most difficult and even apparently doomed operations. His personal prowess, which provoked boundless admiration and gave him great popularity among the troops, was admirable. Finally, he scrupulously observed military ethics with regard to units fighting by his side and to his comrades-in-arms. Many commanding officers and units lacked that quality. After Kornilov’s astounding escape from Austrian captivity, into which he fell when heavily wounded, and covering Brussilov’s retreat from the Carpathians, towards the beginning of the Revolution, he commanded the 25th Corps. All those who knew Kornilov even slightly felt that he was destined to play an important part in the Russian Revolution. On March 2nd Rodzianko telegraphed direct to Kornilov: “The Temporary Committee of the Duma requests you, for your country’s sake, to accept the chief command in Petrograd and to arrive at the Capital at once. We have no doubt that you will not refuse the appointment, and will thereby render an inestimable service to the country.” Such a revolutionary method of appointing an officer to a high command, without reference to G.H.Q., obviously produced a bad impression at the “Stavka.” The telegram received at the “Stavka” is marked “Undelivered,” but on the same day General Alexeiev, having requested the permission of the Emperor, who was then at Pskov, issued an order of the day (No. 334): “… I agree to General Kornilov being in temporary high command of the troops of the Petrograd Military District.”
I have mentioned this insignificant episode in order to explain the somewhat abnormal relations between two prominent leaders, which were occasioned by repeated, petty, personal friction.
I talked to Kornilov at dinner in the War Minister’s house. It was the only moment of rest he could snatch during the day. Kornilov, tired, morose and somewhat pessimistic, discussed at length the conditions of the Petrograd Garrison, and his intercourse with the Soviet. The hero-worship with which he had been surrounded in the army had faded in the unhealthy atmosphere of the Capital among the demoralised troops. They were holding meetings, deserting, indulging in petty commerce in shops and in the street, serving as hall-porters and as personal guards to private individuals, partaking in plundering and arbitrary searches, but were not serving. It was difficult for a fighting general to understand their psychology. He often succeeded by personal pluck, disregard of danger, and by a witty, picturesque word in holding the mob, for that was what military units were. There were, however, cases when the troops did not come out of barracks to meet their Commander-in-Chief, when he was hissed and the flag of St. George was torn from his motor-car (by the Finland Regiment of the Guards).
Kornilov’s description of the political situation was the same as that given by Krymov: Powerlessness of the Government and the inevitability of a fierce cleansing of Petrograd. On one point they differed: Kornilov stubbornly clung to the hope that he would yet succeed in gaining authority over the majority of the Petrograd Garrison. As we know, that hope was never fulfilled.
CHAPTER VIII.
The Stavka: Its Rôle and Position.
On March 25th I arrived at the Stavka, and was immediately received by General Alexeiev. Of course he was offended. “Well,” he said, “if such are the orders, what’s to be done?” Again, as at the War Ministry, I pointed out several reasons against my appointment, among others, my disinclination for Staff work. I asked the General to express his views quite frankly, and in disregard of all conventionalities as my old Professor, because I would not think of accepting the appointment against his will. Alexeiev spoke politely, dryly, evasively, and showed again that he was offended. “The scope,” he said, “was wide, work difficult, and much training necessary. Let us, however, work harmoniously.” In the course of my long career I have never been placed in such a position, and could not, of course, be reconciled to such an attitude. “In these circumstances,” I said, “I absolutely refuse to accept the appointment. In order to avoid friction between yourself and the Government, I will declare that it is entirely my own personal decision.”
Alexeiev’s tone changed immediately. “Oh! no,” he said, “I am not asking you to refuse. Let us work together, and I will help you. Also, there is no reason, if you feel that the work is not to your liking, why you should not take command of the First Army, in which there will be a vacancy two or three months hence. I will have to talk the matter over with General Klembovski. He could not, of course, remain here as my assistant.”
General Alexeiev.
General Kornilov.
Our parting was not quite so frigid; but a couple of days went by and there were no results. I lived in a railway carriage, and did not go to the office or to the mess.