The Russian Turmoil; Memoirs: Military, Social, and Political. Anton Ivanovich Denikin
who now signed orders instead of the Emperor, exercised a strong influence upon appointments and dismissals of officers in High Command. These appointments were sometimes made by him after consultation with the fronts, but the Stavka was not informed. Army regulations of the highest importance altering the conditions of the troops in respect of reinforcements, routine and duty, were issued by the Ministry without the participation of the Supreme Command, which learnt of their issue only from the Press. In fact, such a participation would have actually been useless. Two products of the Polivanov Commission—the new Courts and the Committees—which Gutchkov accidentally asked me to look through, were returned with a series of substantial objections of my own, and Gutchkov expounded them in vain before the representatives of the Soviet. The only result was that certain changes in the drafting of the regulations were made.
All these circumstances undoubtedly undermined the authority of the Stavka in the eyes of the Army, and prompted the Generals in High Command to approach the more powerful Central Government Departments without reference to the Stavka, as well as to display excessive individual initiative in matters of paramount importance to the State and to the Army. Thus, in May, 1917, on the Northern Front, all the pre-War soldiers were discharged instead of the prescribed percentage, and this created grave difficulties on other fronts. On the South-Western Front Ukranian units were being formed. The Admiral in command of the Baltic Fleet ordered the officers to remove their shoulder-straps, etc.
The Stavka had lost influence and power, and could no longer occupy the commanding position of an administrative and moral centre. This occurred at the most terrible stage of the World War, when the Army was beginning to disintegrate, and when not only the entire strength of the people was being put to the test, but the necessity had arisen for a power exceptionally strong and wide in its bearing. Meanwhile, the matter was quite obvious: if Alexeiev and Denikin did not enjoy the confidence of the Government, and were considered inadequate to the requirements of the Supreme Command, they should have been superseded by new men who did enjoy that confidence and who should have been invested with full powers. As a matter of fact, changes were made twice. But only the men were changed, not the principles of the High Command. In the circumstances, when no one actually wielded power, military power was not centred in anybody’s hands. Neither the Chiefs who enjoyed the reputation of serving their country loyally and with exceptional devotion, like Alexeiev, and later the “Iron Chiefs,” such as Kornilov undoubtedly was and as Brussilov was supposed to be, nor all the Chameleons that fed from the hand of the Socialist reformers of the Army had any real power.
The entire military hierarchy was shaken to its very foundations, though it retained all the attributes of power and the customary routine—instructions which could not move the Armies, orders that were never carried out, verdicts of the Courts which were derided. The full weight of oppression, following the line of the least resistance, fell solely upon the loyal commanding officers, who submitted without a murmur to persecution from above as well as from below. The Government and the War Ministry, having abolished repressions, had recourse to a new method of influencing the masses—to appeals. Appeals to the people, to the Army, to the Cossacks, to everybody, flooded the country, inviting all to do their duty. Unfortunately, only those appeals were successful that flattered the meanest instincts of the mob, inviting it to neglect its duty. As a result, it was not counter-Revolution, Buonapartism, or adventure, but the elemental desire of the circles where the ideas of statesmanship still prevailed, to restore the broken laws of warfare, that soon gave rise to a new watchword:
“Military power must be seized.”
Such a task was not congenial to Alexeiev or Brussilov. Kornilov subsequently endeavoured to undertake it, and began independently to carry out a series of important military measures and to address ultimatums on military questions to the Government. At first, the only question raised was that of granting “full powers” to the Supreme Command within the scope of its competence.
It is interesting to compare this state of affairs with that of the command of the armies of our powerful foe. Ludendorff, the first Quartermaster-General of the German Army says (Mes Souvenirs de Guerre): “In peace-time the Imperial Government exercised full power over its Departments. … When the War began the Ministers found it difficult to get used to seeing in G.H.Q. a power which was compelled, by the immensity of its task, to act with greater resolution as that resolution weakened in Berlin. Would that the Government could clearly have perceived this simple truth. … The Government went its own way, and never abandoned any of its designs in compliance with the wishes of G.H.Q. On the contrary, it disregarded much that we considered necessary for the prosecution of the War.”
If we recall that in March, 1918, the deputy of the Reichstag, Haase, was more than justified in saying that the Chancellor was nothing but a figure-head covering the military party, and that Ludendorff was actually governing the country, we will understand the extent of the power which the German Command deemed it necessary to exercise in order to win the World War.
I have drawn a general picture of the Stavka, such as it was when I took charge as Chief-of-Staff. Taking the entire position into consideration, I had two main objects in view: first, to counteract with all my strength the influences which were disrupting the Army, so as to preserve that Army and to hold the Eastern Front in the world struggle; and secondly, to reinforce the rights, the power, and the authority of the Supreme Commander-in-Chief. A loyal struggle was at hand. In that struggle, which only lasted two months, all sections of the Stavka had their share.
General Markov.
CHAPTER IX.
General Markov.
The duties of the Quartermaster-General in the Stavka were many-sided and complex. As in the European Army, it proved therefore necessary to create the office of a second Quartermaster-General. The first dealt merely with matters concerning the conduct of operations. I invited General Markov to accept this new office. His fate was linked up with mine until his glorious death at the head of a Volunteer Division. That Division afterwards bore with honour his name, which has become legendary in the Volunteer Army. At the outbreak of war he was a lecturer at the Academy of the General Staff. He went to the war as Staff-Officer to General Alexeiev. Then he joined the 19th Division, and in December, 1914, he served under my command as Chief-of-Staff of the 4th Rifle Brigade, which I then commanded. When he came to our Brigade he was unknown and unexpected, as I had asked the Army G.H.Q. for another man to be appointed. Immediately upon his arrival he told me that he had recently undergone a slight operation, was not feeling well, was unable to ride, and would not go up to the front line. I frowned, and the Staff exchanged significant glances. The “Professor,” as we afterwards often called him as a friendly jest, was obviously out of place in our midst.
I started one day with my staff, all mounted, towards the line where my riflemen were fiercely fighting, near the town of Friestach. The enemy was upon us, and the fire was intense. Suddenly, repeated showers of shrapnel came down upon us. We wondered what it meant, and there was Markov gaily smiling, openly driving to the firing line in a huge carriage. “I was bored staying in, so I have come to see what is going on here.”
From that day the ice was broken, and Markov assumed a proper place in the family of the “Iron Division.” I have never met a man who loved military work to such an extent as Markov. He was young (when he was killed in the summer of 1918 in action he was only 39 years of age), impetuous, communicative, eloquent. He knew how to approach, and closely, too, any milieu—officers, soldiers, crowds—sometimes far from sympathetic, and how to instil into them his straightforward, clear, and indisputable articles of faith. He was very quick to grasp the situation in battle, and made work much easier for me. Markov had one peculiarity. He was quite exceptionally straightforward, frank, and abrupt when attacking those who, in his opinion, did not display adequate knowledge, energy, or pluck. While he was at Headquarters the troops therefore viewed him (as in the Brigade) with a certain reserve, and sometimes even