Russian Sideshow

by Robert L Willett

  It was fortunate that all Americans captured by the Reds during the expedition, the fishing party and Burt and Bachelor from the Twenty-seventh Infantry, were released unharmed. Eichelberger wrote of his first negotiations with the partisans, “In my talks with Colonel Williams, I realized I did not see any means of getting Fribley and his men back alive.”4 The Czechs, Japanese, Bolsheviks, and partisans never took prisoners, preferring to kill them rather than bother with them; yet, all captured Americans were, if not well treated, at least not harmed. One of the released prisoners, Harold Bullard, wrote in his memoirs, “This bunch of Russians were commanded by one big Russian and an American Sgt. who had deserted. He was still wearing his U.S. uniform and had a Springfield rifle and Colt automatic pistol.”5 Although Karachun was reported to be over on the Trans-Siberian Railroad, Bullard’s description seemed disturbingly familiar.

  With the release of the prisoners and the aggressive new orders, it took little time for Williams to begin pursuit of the partisan Reds who plagued his mission. The mines themselves were shut down, both by strike and by threats against the workers, so he turned toward the villages that were home to the partisans. He also was worried about supplies; since he needed to receive some support from Vladivostok, and the railroad was unusable, he determined that supplies would have to come by sea.

  Williams planned his first attack on Novitskaya as a prelude to hitting Kazanka, a partisan headquarters. He began his assault at 1:30 A.M. on July 2, sending Major Graves with Company C, less one platoon, plus two machine guns. This column attacked Novitskaya from the north at 2:00 A.M., while Colonel Williams led Company M, two machine guns, and a Japanese infantry company into town from the south. The combined force met some heavy sniper fire, which wounded two men, but Novitskaya was in their hands by 5:00 A.M. At 11:00 A.M., Company C with its two machine guns went back to Suchan, while the others camped north of the town; snipers interrupted their rest, but did no damage.

  The next day they launched an attack on Kazanka, again using two columns. The first column under Major Joiner was made up of Company C, less one platoon, Company D, two machine guns, and two one-pounders. They left Suchan at 3:30 A.M., found the Reds one mile from town and had a short but fierce fire fight, in which Pvt. Peter Bernal was killed and two wounded. The town was taken by 9:45 A.M. Meanwhile, Colonel Williams took a column of Company M, plus heavy weapons and the Japanese infantry company, by a different route, but ran into trouble. The heavy weapons proved difficult to move over the hills, and twice the column became lost. He finally arrived at 11:00 A.M. with his men exhausted, after Joiner had successfully taken the town.6 At Kazanka, it wasn’t the Reds that committed crimes, it was the Americans. A lieutenant in Company C emptied his automatic pistol into a doorway filled with women. One of his platoon, Cpl. Oscar Woutilla, put a gun to the officer’s stomach to make him stop shooting. Eichelberger witnessed the shooting and wrote, “How many were hit I do not know nor care to know.”7 Next, the lieutenant ordered a squad to shoot a blind man being led by his daughter. For some reason, the lieutenant felt the blind man and those with him were a threat. Someone in the squad fired on the man, wounding him badly, then the officer finished him off with a borrowed bayonet. It was then discovered the man’s daughter had been given a pass by Major Graves, but was too terrified to show it to anyone.8

  With the victory complete, they all marched back to Suchan, taking their dead and wounded. Williams felt satisfied. “It is believed that by defeating the enemy at Kazanka he lost practically all of his prestige in Suchan Valley, and that it will take several months, if unmolested, for him to again gain the support of farmers of this locality.”9

  On July 4, the Suchan units attended the funeral of Private Bernal, killed at Kazanka. He was the fifth American buried at the mines.10 Bernal, Lieutenant Ward, and the others would rest in the Suchan graveyard until August, since that area was cut off from rail transport to Vladivostok. Those killed in areas west of Kangaus were sent immediately to Vladivostok, properly treated, and transported to the United States. A naval relief force finally made it possible to send to Vladivostok the bodies of those killed in the beleaguered Suchan area. On August 17, 1919, a work party opened the graves, placed the bodies in hermetically sealed caskets, and “as the coffins were loaded on droskies . . . rode down to the ocean sitting on the coffins.” The remains were taken to Vladivostok by ship for transport home.11

  Colonel Williams’s next challenge was to open a supply route. Between Suchan and Amerika Bay, the nearest open water allowing passage to Vladivostok, there were still nests of Reds who opposed the Americans. Word of the need for supplies was received by AEF headquarters; Company G in Vladivostok was ordered to join White Russian troops and board the USS Albany to take supplies to Amerika Bay. The plan called for Williams to clear the hostile partisans between the bay and Suchan to establish a line of supply. It was an awkward route, but the only alternative, since the cable cars and bridges were out between Kangaus and Fanza.

  On July 5 at 4:00 A.M., a sizeable column left Suchan headed for the bay. Included were Companies D and M, machine gun sections, one-pounders from Headquarters Company, and one Japanese infantry company. Williams led the column himself, but was accompanied by Lieutenant Colonel Eichelberger and Major Graves, both of whom hoped to board a ship and get back to their duties in Vladivostok. As they left Suchan, they had no assurance any ships would be meeting them, but they assumed the Navy would come to their rescue.12

  The march to their destination, the town of Vladimir-Alexandrofsk, six miles inland on the Suchan River, was hazardous. As they neared the town of Piryatino on the Suchan River, they were met by heavy fire from the hills, which wounded six men from Company D. Williams sent the Japanese infantry to root the gunmen out with two machine guns, which they did very efficiently, and the column was then protected by the high ground. They had one more encounter as they neared their destination: a group of partisans opened fire near Unashi, but was quickly subdued. When they reached Vladimir-Alexandrofsk, the Reds were entrenched on the hills overlooking the town, but a healthy barrage of Allied machine gun and artillery fire chased them off the hills, which were then occupied by Company M. They then set up their camp in the village.

  July 6 was a day filled with activity. The Suchan soldiers sent a patrol down to the bay; they reappeared with the happy news that the fleet was, indeed, there. The Albany had arrived and anchored at 6:44 A.M., accompanied by a fleet of Chinese junks loaded with supplies and Russian naval ships, as well. The Russian ships landed three hundred White Russian troops, while the Albany unloaded Company G and whaleboats to move officers who were needed to direct the supplyladen junks to the Vladimir camp.13

  The men who did not journey to the bay remained in the Vladimir Camp or on outposts in the hills. From those hills, some of the men claimed they could see the Albany in the bay. Eichelberger thought it was a different ship, not the American cruiser, but he and Major Graves, anxious to get back to headquarters, scavenged a launch and had some minor repairs made to fix it for the trip downriver. Eichelberger and Graves, with Lieutenants Winningstad and Greenway, made the trip in the patched-up launch. Eichelberger wrote his wife, “The soldiers worked on the Bolshevik steam launch and we got away at 5:00 A.M. A heavy Browning machine gun with several sand bags forward and aft. I expected to get shot at all the way down but we never heard a shot though we passed a town on the right for a mile.”14 The launch reached the Albany, and its passengers were taken on board at 7:45 A.M., their Suchan adventure over. The Albany also took on four of the wounded from the valley campaign, one of whom, Pvt. Alphia Schurter, wounded at Piryatino, died in Vladivostok on July 8. Its duty finished, the ship left for Vladivostok at 9:30 P.M. on July 7.15

  The following days in Vladimir were spent organizing and stockpiling the welcome supplies. On July 9, with Colonel Williams still leading, the column left with all the supplies it could convoy, arriving back in Suchan with only minor disturbances. One platoon of Comp
any D remained behind with Company G to guard the rest of the supplies. On July 10, Major Joiner took Company H and a Japanese company with an empty wagon train back to Vladimir to bring the remaining supplies; they were back in Suchan by 3:30 P.M. on July 11. The following day Company G returned to Vladivostok from Vladimir, although it is not clear how they made the trip.

  In his report, Colonel Williams ended by saying, “From all reports and indications it is believed that Suchan Valley is practically free of Bolsheviki, and that it can be kept so with the present force at Souchan without assistance from outsiders.”16 Eichelberger wired Graves from the Albany, bringing him up to date on the Suchan Valley: “No reinforcements of any nationality believed necessary. Present force actively handled should be able to roam at will through country.”17

  During the next month there were regular patrols, with occasional sightings of Reds, but little real threat to the mines. The cable cars were still not operating, and so many bridges had been blown or burned that time estimates of repairs ran into months. As the need for troops slackened, Company D was released from Major Joiner’s command and sent back over the rugged hills to join the Shkotova contingent at Kangaus.

  General Graves had no intention of keeping his units in Suchan. He had no plan to garrison the isolated Vladimir on Amerika Bay, which was virtually the only way to supply Suchan. As early as July 5, he telegraphed Colonel Williams to keep a minimum supply of all things needed to maintain the base. “No surplus should be taken in because it will be necessary to move it again.”18 As Eichelberger and Graves described the Suchan situation upon their arrival in Vladivostok, it became obvious to the general that Suchan had lost any value it once had. There was no coal being produced; the rugged country might be safe for the moment, but new partisans could return at any time to break the fragile line of supply.

  On August 13, Colonel Williams received a telegram from General Graves requesting a plan of evacuation. Williams knew this would have to be accomplished by wagon to Amerika Bay and by ship back to Vladivostok. The major problem was rounding up enough wagons; however, by August 16, he had acquired three hundred. Word was received that a ship would be in Amerika Bay on August 19 to take off all Allied troops and equipment. In a soaking rain, the chilled and weary men of the Suchan Mine Guard found themselves on the beaches of Amerika Bay. They were loaded onto the Merritt, their transport out of the mine country. A lieutenant wrote in the regimental newspaper:

  [B]y the light of a wonderful moon, and to the accompaniment of the melodious Filipino string orchestra, [we] steamed out of Amerika Bay, steamed away from the country where we had hiked so many weary versts, and where we had fought so many nasty engagements, steamed back to the city called Queen of the East on the Golden Horn Bay.19

  In the hold were the bodies of Lieutenant Ward and the others who had died during the brief mine occupation.

  The Suchan expedition ended, but those in Shkotova were still tending to their guard duties as they had been since Major Joiner’s force left to join Williams in Suchan. They patrolled and reconnoitered from their duty stations along the still functioning portions of the railroad leading into the cable station at Kanguas. Several times they went back to Petrovka; one man was wounded in one expedition, but they never encountered any significant force.

  Their one major venture was up the New Russian Valley, through the town of Bronchi, where a force of Russians, Company K, and a machine gun platoon were to meet a command from Novo Nezhino. Together they were to find the Reds at Bronchi and at Gordievka; however, before they joined forces at Bronchi, they had “a stiff engagement”—so stiff that one intelligence officer was wounded, Pvt. Albert Rooney was killed, and three other men were wounded. They finally met the Novo Nezhino column on July 9, but shortly afterward returned to their base.20

  Throughout the summer, reports showed the concern of commanders for the loss of their veteran troops; many of their replacements were untrained and certainly inexperienced in the skills needed in Siberia. Major Cutrer was replaced by Maj. Thomas Arms, who ended his August report, “During this month the command lost some of its best men, due to transfer to the United States for discharge and many recruits were received in their place.” In September he wrote:

  The fighting capacity of the command has been seriously impaired, due to the transfer to the United States of the best men and the securing of recruits in replacement, mostly under 21 years of age and not of sufficiently mature age or growth to properly withstand the hardships of campaigning.21

  But the men still patrolled and occasionally skirmished; the last recorded wound received was by Private Cathermon on September 11.22 The major reported no operations in October and November, and few in December as winter descended.

  The Kolchak government was in flight by December, and the White Russians everywhere were in total disarray. At Shkotova on December 27, 1919, the Russian garrison mutinied, killing two of its officers; between four and five hundred men deserted to the Reds. Companies D and E remained there with two hundred loyal Russians.23

  24

  Elsewhere in Siberia—1919

  Semenof has given until 11:00 A.M. this date when he will take rifles by force.

  —Ryan wire to Morrow, October 25, 1919

  AFTER the Suchan mine area was abandoned in August 1919, the Thirty-first Infantry remained primarily in the Vladivostok area, except for Company B, which was still in Harbin, China, and other contingents along the Trans-Siberian and Suchan Railroads. The Twenty-seventh Infantry was scattered all the way from the Lake Baikal area to Vladivostok, still sparring with partisans, Cossacks, and Japanese. By then the Thirty-first Infantry had its nickname: like the 339th in North Russia, they became the Polar Bears. The Japanese called the Twenty-seventh Infantry the Wolfhounds after the Russian wolfhound, whose characteristics were speed and tenacity; the Japanese thought both characteristics were evidenced by the Twenty-seventh’s marches in the early Ussuri campaign.

  The Thirty-first Infantry returned from Suchan, proud of its combat record and ready to assume its duties in Vladivostok, but still uncertain of its mission. Nearly a year after the Armistice had been signed and with the AEFNR on its way home, it appeared that the Siberian expedition was readying for yet another winter in Russia. Congressmen questioned by their constituents had few answers. Pressure was building on the president to make some firm statements about the purpose of the expedition and the time frame for departure. Some of the drafted men were trickling home, and, as the local commanders acknowledged, their replacements were not always prepared for Siberian conditions. One of those who went home was Col. Frederick Sargent. He had commanded the Thirty-first Infantry from its early days at Fort McKinley in the Philippines, until he was replaced by Col. Fred Bugbee on October 8, 1919.1

  Colonel Bugbee arrived September 7 and took a few weeks to acquaint himself with the Siberian situation. The Thirty-first Infantry regimental headquarters was the base and line of communications center in Vladivostok, and Bugbee was not totally happy with his assignment. On September 23, he wrote his wife, “I am slated to take command of the 31st. . . . I don’t fancy it very much.” His immediate concern was finding quarters for the units that had been withdrawn from the mines with another Siberian winter approaching. “I will be caught holding the bag, as I will be in command of the regiment when the shoe pinches.”2

  Other changes in the expeditionary forces command personnel were taking place. Colonel Robinson, Graves’s chief of staff, had caused so much friction among other officers that he was sent home in September and replaced by Col. Joseph D. Leitch.3 The Twenty-seventh Infantry had been commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Morrow in the early days while Colonel Styer was AEFS commander; Styer became regimental commander from September 8, 1918, until April 8, 1919, when Morrow, then a full colonel, took command.4

  Through it all, General Graves remained in command of the AEFS and was continually pressured and harassed by virtually everyone. With the United States ostensibly allied wit
h Japan, it was understandable that the average Russian felt no liking toward any of those representing the Kolchak government, be they Cossacks or Allies.

  One major break in United States–Japanese harmony came in February 1919. The Japanese had been fighting Bolsheviks on the Amur near Blagovestchentsk, where they took large losses. Graves cabled Washington, recounting Japanese losses: between February 11 and 16, eighty-one men were killed. He then reported, “On the same day two peace-strength companies of Infantry, total of about two hundred and fifty men, one company of Artillery and one section of Infantry met the same Bolshevik force at different times and only three escaped.” When General Oi asked Styer for a company of the Twenty-seventh Infantry, Styer cabled Graves requesting instructions. Graves sent Robinson to meet with the Japanese chief of staff in Vladivostok, who requested that Styer do nothing until further notice. No instructions came, and the Japanese were left to their fate.5 Actually, the U.S. troops were hundreds of miles from the fighting and could have done nothing to help, but the Japanese press had a field day, depicting the United States as failing to aid an ally and allowing the slaughter of Oi’s troops.