Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20
The political atmosphere in Europe in the years preceding World War I was permeated with the presentiment of impending armed struggle for domination. The alignment of power was as follows: In one camp was the so-called “entente Cordiale,” a tri-power unit of Russia, France, and England. Their orbit of influence included the Slavic nations in the Balkans with the exception of Bulgaria whose ruler was a German prince. On the other side was Germany and subordinate Austria--with Turkey and Bulgaria their satellites. Other nations, especially Italy, were unknown factors. That Russia and Germany were on opposite sides presented an anomaly. They were both autocratic monarchies. The genealogical bond between Germany and Russia dated back to the middle of the 18th century. All Romanoffs, including Nicholas II, had been married to German princesses. Germans occupied some of the most responsible posts in the Russian government.
The alliance with the democracies was forced by economic considerations. England was responsible for the industrial development of Russia and held large concessions. France had repeatedly lent large sums of money, while Germany had no money to invest. Added to this was the fear of Germany's expansion policy. Germany was overpopulated and coveted the vast spaces of Russia and the rich, fertile Ukraine. The slogan in Germany was, “Drang nach Osten.”
The Balkans, the “powder keg” of Europe, was in turmoil at the beginning of the 20th century. In one decade, two wars were fought there. The first was waged by the Slavonic nations with Greece, their ally against Turkey. Then the Slavs, the blood brothers as they called themselves, fought among themselves with Serbia victorious. In 1908, Austria, which had formerly absorbed Moravia and Bohemia, annexed Bosnia and Herzegovina, populated by Serbs. The latter resented this, and terrorist organizations sprang up. The terrorists killed various Austrian officials. Their activities culminated in the assassination in 1914 of the Archduke Ferdinand, heir to the Austrian throne, and his wife. In July of the same year, Austria declared war on Serbia, which was held responsible for the murder. This brought Russia on the scene; and after some preliminary diplomatic negotiations, World War I broke out on August 1.
The political situation in Russia at that time was dark as ever. The 4th Duma, which was convened in 1912, was, like its predecessor, the willing tool of the autocracy. The knout and bayonet ruled the country. The peasantry was cowed into submission by relentless executions. There was hardly any nationally organized movement of the labor elements. Pessimism and skepticism dominated the intellectuals. The bourgeoisie was indifferent and did not care one way or another for what was happening. Autocracy was triumphant; democracy lay prostrate at its feet.
The country was divided into two camps. In one camp were grouped the autocracy and reactionary elements. In the other camp were the democratic elements. The interests of these groups were diametrically opposed. It was really the democracy that was allied with the democracies of Europe in this war. The true interests of the ruling clique were linked with the German monarchy. Despite the deeply rooted antagonism between the government and the Russian population at large, the war was popular at its inception, and a most earnest effort at winning was made by the democracy, in contrast to the aggressive war with Japan at which time the democracy was overwhelmingly defeatist. Different strata of the population supported the war effort for various reasons. The “Slavophiles,” a small, vociferous minority, visualized the liberation of their blood brothers, the Balkan Slavs, from the Austrian yoke.
The liberals feared that a German victory would strengthen the reactionary elements in Russia and that any attempt at revolution would be quelled by German arms. All despots are natural allies. Germany tried to keep the Bourbons in power at the time of the French Revolution. The tyrant, Nicholas I, the “Gendarme of Europe,” saved the Hapsburgs when the Hungarians rebelled in 1848. On the other hand, in case of victory, Russia could be expected to get into the democratic fold and establish a constitutional monarchy, the ultimate goal of the liberals. Most of the liberals hoped (and some demanded) that the Dardanelles be given to Russia for her part in the war. Most outspoken in this respect was the leader of the Cadets, Paul Miliukov, who, because of this, was later nicknamed the Dardanellian. Constantinople, the cradle of the true faith, was also coveted by some liberals.
The Social Democrats of the Menshevik faction also supported the war, the same as the Social Democrats of Germany with the exception of Wilhelm Liebknecht and Rosa Luxemburge later to be killed in the uprising in Germany. In France, the Radical Socialist, the gifted orator Joress, was killed by a patriot on the very day war was declared. The rest followed the line taken by the German and Austrian Socialists. The leader of the Mensheviks, the brilliant George Plechanov, then in exile, reasoned thus: In accordance with the theory of economic determinism as developed by Marx and Engels, a socialistic state can emerge only in a highly developed capitalistic country where the wealth is concentrated in a few hands with the middle class at a vanishing point and the laboring masses proletariarized. Russia at that time was more feudal than capitalistic. The victory of the Allies would give an impetus to the development of industry, a prerequisite of capitalism. Then, and only then, would the way be paved for Socialism either voluntarily or by forcible means. The same attitude was taken by the Socialist Revolutionists with the exception of a few. The leader of the anarchists, Count Kropotkin, an old revered revolutionary, exhorted his not-too-numerous followers to do everything possible to support the war to a victorious end.
The only dissenting voice was that of the Bolsheviks under the leadership of Lenin. At the beginning of the war, the Bolsheviks held a convention in Zimmerwald, Switzerland, and issued a proclamation in which they branded the war as imperialistic and urged the laboring masses to convert it into a civil war for the establishment of Socialism. Some of the Mensheviks and Bundists formed a new party under the name of Socialist Internationalists and followed the same line.
Of the different nations subject to Russian rule, the Poles were enthusiastic because of the promise of restitution of an Independent Poland on the boundaries of pre-partition as pointed out in a manifesto issued by the Commander of Russian armies, the Archduke Nicholas, uncle of the Tsar. The Jews were promised nothing and felt that win or lose they would have nothing but trouble. However, it was dangerous to express any unfavorable opinion, and they suffered in silence.
It was an unusual situation. The democratic elements made every effort to gain victory. The autocracy and some of the rabid reactionaries worked for defeat from the beginning, sensing that victory would bring a change of regime. The liberals organized the League of Zemstvos and the League of Cities with the aim of helping the army in every conceivable way. They maintained hospitals and rest homes for the wounded. They provided soldiers with adequate footgear and clothing. They went to the front despite obstacles put up by the suspicious bureaucracy to establish steam baths, laundries, and clubs. The antiquated, inefficient, and uninspired war machine of the Tsar revealed itself in its true light in the very beginning of the war, and it became more apparent with the progress of the strenuous struggle for victory.
Immediately upon the declaration of war on August 1, 1914, a general mobilization of nearly 15 million was ordered. It was a staggering job to clothe, feed, and arm the men. No proper medical examination was enforced, and the army contained a great number of physically and mentally sick men. Millions were kept idle in the interior, and those who went to the front lacked ammunition. In some sectors of the front, one rifle was allotted to two soldiers with the idea that if one were killed, the survivor would use the rifle. There was a scarcity of heavy artillery. The army was by no means prepared to take the offensive against the heavily armed, disciplined German army. However, on the insistence of hard-pressed France, the Russians invaded East Prussia and occupied a large territory. The victory was short-lived and turned into disaster.
The Russian army under General Samsanov was lured by Ludendorf into the difficult terrain of the Masurian Lakes and was annihilated, with Samsanov committing suicide. As it later transpired, this defeat was due to treason. A Colonel of the Intelligence named Myasoedov obtained secret information from the Secretary of War, Sukomlinov, and sold it to the Germans. He also retarded the advent of the Second Army under General Renenkamp, a German by extraction, so that he was unable to join Samsonov in time. Some believed that Renenkamp himself was in the plot, and the guilt of the Tsarina and Virubova was established after the Revolution took place and secret documents published. Myasoedov was executed, and Sukomlinov was demoted and put on trial but the damage was irreparable. Shortly after the Masurian disaster, the “impregnable” fortress of Kovno, Lithuania, surrendered, thus opening the way for the German army to invade Poland and White Russia.
The defeat of the Russian army and the surrender of Kovno actually sealed the fate of Russia as a combat factor although eventually some notable victories were scored under General Brusilov. It was then too late to save the situation. My own fate and that of the Linetski family was affected at the very beginning of the war. The town of Vladimir was situated on the border of Austria, and an early attack was expected. Because of this, my wife went to Belaya Tserkov to the empty house of her parents. Of six sons, two were dead, one had emigrated to the States, and one lived in an adjacent town. Of the remaining two, Grisha was drafted and, it was found later, was slightly wounded in the Masurian battle and taken prisoner by the Germans. The youngest, David, was under observation in a military hospital because of kidney trouble. It was a very sad and trying time for my wife.
Meanwhile, the local Zemstvo, aided by volunteers, established a first-aid hospital in what was formerly a Catholic nunnery. I was appointed doctor for this hospital a few days after the town was attacked and the hospital was under fire. Most of the wounded soldiers were light cases with some exceptions. The saddest case was that of a captured Slovak, both of whose legs had been crushed and amputated at the front. He was a very handsome man, formerly a teacher, who spoke some Russian. I avoided seeing him because he constantly implored me to give him poison. Once, a Russian captain who was slightly wounded was brought in, and a few days later his wife came to see him. She was a very good surgeon, and she stayed on at the hospital, which was of immense help to me. The Captain was released after two weeks, returned to the front, and was killed in battle. I remained with the hospital until the attack was repulsed and the patients evacuated. Then I assumed my former duties and my family returned, but not for long.
In the spring of 1915, the town was attacked again in great force. My wife left in haste, and I stayed in Vladimir, the only doctor to care for the wounded and civilians as well. Among the patients were many cases of cholera, the plague of Russia. I left town with the very last train, leaving all my worldly possessions behind since there was no room for baggage except what one could carry in his hand or on his back. I went to Kiev where I took a position in a Zemstvo hospital for seriously ill, evacuated soldiers, most of them suffering from the horrible disease of tetanus.
It was heartbreaking to see the men twitching and convulsed, the more so since it could easily have been averted by the simple process of administering an anti-tetanus serum at the time the solders were wounded. It was due partly to negligence and partly to lack of trained personnel that such treatment was not applied, and in most cases it was now too late to save their lives. There were also many cases of typhoid and typhus fever. The work was physically exhausting and produced great nervous tension. Beside this, the chief doctor was a severe disciplinarian with anti-Semitic leanings, and his assistant was the son of the former governor of Kiev, a classmate of mine who put on airs and was a most unpleasant “comrade.” I remained with the hospital for a few weeks, then took a position with a Jewish organization for the care of refugees. They were a varied, unhappy lot, a mixture of Galician and Polish Jews. Their evacuation was arduous and exhausting.
They rode in cattle cars in very slow trains. The food was poor and the water tepid and polluted. Some of the refugees were abused and beaten by their escort, and those who protested were thrown from the trains. The government magnanimously allowed them two weeks' stay in the forbidden zone of Kiev. Because of this, no provisions were made for a permanent establishment. They were crowded into synagogues, orphan asylums, or any vacant houses available. Although there were many cases of dysentery and typhus, there was not much I could do except to sort out and remove those who suffered from infectious diseases. It was a most un-gratifying, nerve-wracking sort of work--and it was time to establish myself in private practice, especially since my wife was with child. Two classmates of mine, former externs, were in practice in Petrograd and were doing well. I wrote to them, and they both agreed that I could expect to establish myself in practice with no great difficulty since the need for doctors was great. I took their advice and went to Petrograd where I worked for a short time in a private clinic and then opened an office in a workers' section in a suburb. Little did I know at that time what trials and sufferings lay ahead of me. It was beyond all expectations.