The Russian Turmoil; Memoirs: Military, Social, and Political. Anton Ivanovich Denikin
this silly and utterly undeserved position, I was preparing to leave Petrograd. On March 28th the War Minister came to the Stavka and cut the Gordian knot. Klembovski was offered the command of an army or membership of the War Council. He chose the latter, and on April 5th I took charge as Chief of the Staff. Nevertheless, such a method of appointing the closest assistant to the Supreme Commander-in-Chief, practically by force, could not but leave a certain trace. A kind of shadow seemed to lie between myself and General Alexeiev, and it did not disappear until the last stage of his tenure of office. Alexeiev saw in my appointment a kind of tutelage on the part of the Government. From the very first moment I was compelled to oppose Petrograd. I served our cause and tried to shield the Supreme C.-in-C.—and of this he was often unaware—from many conflicts and much friction, taking them upon myself. As time went by friendly relations of complete mutual trust were established, and these did not cease until the day of Alexeiev’s death.
On April 2nd the General received the following telegram: “The Provisional Government has appointed you Supreme Commander-in-Chief. It trusts that, under your firm guidance, the Army and the Navy will fulfil their duty to the country to the end.” My appointment was gazetted on April 10th.
The Stavka, on the whole was not favoured. In the circles of the Revolutionary Democracy it was considered a nest of counter-Revolution, although such a description was utterly undeserved. Under Alexeiev there was a loyal struggle against the disruption of the Army. Under Brussilov—opportunism slightly tainted with subservience to the Revolutionary Democracy. As regards the Kornilov movement, although it was not essentially counter-Revolutionary, it aimed, as we shall see later, at combatting the Soviets that were half-Bolshevik. But, even then, the loyalty of the officers of the Stavka was quite obvious. Only a few of them took an active part in the Kornilov movement. After the office of Supreme Commander-in-Chief was abolished, and the new office created of Supreme Commanding Committees, nearly all the members of the Stavka under Kerensky, and the majority of them under Krylenko, continued to carry on the routine work. The Army also disliked the Stavka—sometimes wrongly, sometimes rightly—because the Army did not quite understand the distribution of functions among the various branches of the Service, and ascribed to the Stavka many shortcomings in equipment, organisation, promotion, awards, etc., whereas these questions belonged entirely to the War Ministry and its subordinates. The Stavka had always been somewhat out of touch with the Army. Under the comparatively normal and smoothly working conditions of the pre-Revolutionary period this circumstance did not greatly prejudice the working of the ruling mechanism; but now, when the Army was not in a normal condition, and had been affected by the whirlwind of the Revolution, the Stavka naturally was behind the times.
Finally, a certain amount of friction could not fail to arise between the Government and the Stavka, because the latter constantly protested against many Government measures, which exercised a disturbing influence on the Army. There were no other serious reasons for difference of opinion, because neither Alexeiev nor myself, nor the various sections of the Stavka, ever touched upon matters of internal policy. The Stavka was non-political in the fullest sense of the word, and during the first months of the Revolution was a perfectly reliable technical apparatus in the hands of the Provisional Government. The Stavka did but safeguard the highest interests of the Army, and, within the limits of the War and of the Army, demanded that full powers be given to the Supreme Commander-in-Chief. I may even say that the personnel of the Stavka seemed to me to be bureaucratic and too deeply immersed in the sphere of purely technical interests; they were not sufficiently interested in the political and social questions which events had brought to the fore.
In discussing the Russian strategy in the Great War, after August, 1915, one should always bear in mind that it was the personal strategy of General Alexeiev. He alone bears the responsibility before history for its course, its successes and failures. A man of exceptional conscientiousness and self-sacrifice, and devoted to his work, he had one serious failing: all his life he did the work of others as well as his own. So it was when he held the post of Quartermaster-General of the General Staff, of Chief-of-Staff of the Kiev District, and later of the South-Western front and finally of Chief-of-Staff to the Supreme C.-in-C. Nobody influenced strategical decisions, and, as often as not, final instructions, written in Alexeiev’s tiny and neat hand-writing, appeared unexpectedly on the desk of the Quartermaster-General, whose duty under the law and whose responsibility in these matters were very grave. If such a procedure was to a certain extent justifiable, when the post of Quartermaster-General was occupied by a nonentity, there was no excuse for it when he was superseded by other Quartermasters-General, such as Lukomski or Josephovitch. These men could not accept such a position. The former, as a rule, protested by sending in memoranda embodying his opinion, which was adverse to the plan of operations. Such protests, of course, were purely academic, but presented a guarantee against the judgment of history. General Klembovski, my predecessor, was compelled to demand non-interference with the rightful sphere of his competence as a condition of his tenure of office. Till then, Alexeiev had directed all the branches of administration. When these branches acquired a still broader scope, this proved practically impossible, and I was given full liberty in my work except … in respect of strategy. Again, Alexeiev began to send telegrams in his own hand of a strategical nature, orders and directions, the motives of which the Quartermaster-General and myself could not understand. Several times, three of us, the Quartermaster-General, Josephovitch, his assistant, General Markov, and myself, discussed this question. The quick-tempered Josephovitch was greatly excited, and asked to be appointed to a Divisional Command. “I cannot be a clerk,” he said. “There is no need for a Quartermaster-General at the Stavka if every clerk can type instructions.” The General and myself began to contemplate resignation. Markov said that he would not stay for a single day if we went. I finally decided to have a frank talk with Alexeiev. We were both under the strain of emotion. We parted as friends, but we did not settle the question. Alexeiev said: “Do I not give you a full share of the work? I do not understand you.” Alexeiev was quite sincerely surprised because during the war he had grown accustomed to a régime which appeared to him perfectly normal. So we three held another conference. After a lengthy discussion, we decided that the plan of campaign for 1917 had long since been worked out, that preparations for that campaign had reached a stage in which substantial alterations had become impossible, that the details of the concentration and distribution of troops were in the present condition of the Army a difficult matter, allowing for differences of opinion; that we could perhaps manage to effect certain alterations of the plan, and that finally our retirement in corpore might be detrimental to the work, and might undermine the position of the Supreme C.-in-C., which was already by no means stable. We therefore decided to wait and see. We did not have to wait very long, because, at the end of May, Alexeiev left the Stavka, and we followed him very soon afterwards.
What place did the Stavka occupy as a military and political factor of the Revolutionary period?
The importance of the Stavka diminished. In the days of the Imperial régime, the Stavka, from the military point of view, occupied a predominant position. No individual or institution in the State was entitled to issue instructions or to call to account the Supreme Commander-in-Chief, and it was Alexeiev and not the Czar who in reality held that office. Not a single measure of the War Ministry, even if indirectly affecting the interests of the Army, could be adopted without the sanction of the Stavka. The Stavka gave direct orders to the War Minister and to his Department on questions appertaining to the care of the Army. The voice of the Stavka had a certain weight and importance in the practical domain of administration at the theatre of war, albeit without any connection with the general trend of internal policy. That power was not exercised to a sufficient degree; but on principle it afforded the opportunity of carrying on the defence of the country in co-operation with other branches of the administration, which were to a certain extent subordinate to it. With the beginning of the Revolution, these conditions underwent a radical change. Contrary to the examples of history and to the dictates of military science, the Stavka became practically subordinate to the War Minister. This was not due to any act of the Government, but merely to the fact that the Provisional Government combined supreme power with executive power, as well as to the combination of the strong character of Gutchkov and the yielding nature of Alexeiev. The Stavka could no longer address rightful demands to the branches of the War Ministry which were attending to Army equipments. It conducted a lengthy correspondence