The Long Retreat

The Czech Legion, the Russian Civil War, and One Family's Reluctant Emigration

In May 1918, as Civil War raged in Russia a train arrived at Siberia’s Chelyabinsk station full of prisoners from the Great War (WWI). The prisoners on the train were being repatriated under the terms of the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk (signed two months before), in order that they could fight for the Central Powers. One of the ex-prisoners on that train, a Hungarian, exchanged insults with some Czech soldiers standing on the platform. [They had been fighting on opposite sides in the War, which continued until November 11, 1918. The Czech Legion was comprised of soldiers who defected from the Austro-Hungarian Empire and fought on the side of the Russian Empire before Brest-Litovsk; Hungarians were part of the Central Powers, fighting against the Russian Empire.] The Hungarian soldier then threw a piece of iron at the Czechs, killing one of them. The enraged Czechs pulled the offending soldier off the train and lynched him.

Bolshevik authorities, who had since March been allowing the Czech Legion’s trains to travel east to Vladivostok in their around-the-world itinerary home, imprisoned ten Czech soldiers. The prisoners were promptly freed by their comrades, who then seized Chelyabinsk station.

In response, Lev Trotsky, People’s Commissar of War, sent a command from Moscow that profoundly changed the course of history: the army was to disarm the Czech Legion echelons and shoot any and all Czechs who resisted. This order, intercepted by White forces, threw down the gauntlet. From that point forward, the Czech Legion, [The official name was The Czech and Slovak Legion, though only about 7 percent were Slovaks.] was openly at war with the Red Army. Well-disciplined and determined, the Legion seized city after city from the Bolsheviks — starting with Chelyabinsk and Novonikolayevsk, and then, after the decision was made to coordinate their actions against the Bolsheviks, other Legion trains that had been heading east were stopped and turned back, to assist their brothers-in-arms. By June 8, 1918, all cities on the Trans-Siberian railroad from the Volga in the West to Omsk in the East were in Czech, and therefore White, hands.

The Czech and Slovak Legion was made up of Czechs and Slovaks resident in the Russian Empire prior to the outbreak of the War, supplemented by defecting prisoners of war and deserters from the Austro-Hungarian army, all of whom sought to liberate Slavic lands from the German, Austrian and Hungarian yokes. After the February 1917 revolution, Thomas Masaryk (later the first president of Czechoslovakia), secured permission from Russia’s new Provisional Government to form an entirely independent Czech Army on Russian soil and the Czechs soon abandoned Russian uniforms and considered themselves separate from the Russian military. Many of the divisions, however, still had Russian commanders.

The Legionnaires saw the signing of the Brest-Litovsk Treaty in March of 1918 as a betrayal of the Slavic cause. With the support of the French, they asked to be sent to the Western Front to resume fighting the Germans there. At that time, however, their divisions were mostly in Ukraine, and all routes west were blocked by German or Austrian forces. So the Legionnaires had to travel east to Vladivostok, where they were to board ships to continue on to France via America. Well-armed and well-supplied, 40,000 Czech and Slovak soldiers began their eastward journey in the spring of 1918. They filled 65 trains.

Some of the troops did, in fact, reach Vladivostok by April, but the “Chelyabinsk Incident” changed the situation radically. The Legionnaires were no longer neutral. Instead, they were actively at war with the Bolsheviks and thus aligned with White forces in the Russian Civil War. Of course the problem was that Legion forces were strung out along thousands of miles of the Trans-Siberian, and between June and September of 1918, much of their fighting in the Civil War was centered in the Volga region, between Samara and Kazan.

On June 8, Legionnaires and the White Guard captured Samara, and there the Committee of Members of the Constituent Assembly (KOMUCH) was formed, proclaiming itself a democratic counterrevolutionary government and assembling the Russian People’s Army of approximately 30,000 men. Two young, White Russian commanders in the region – Captain Vladimir Kappel and Colonel Sergey Voytsekhovsky – consolidated the Russian troops and, combined with the Czech and Slovak Legion, developed a formidable fighting force.

In July, that force headed north to take the city of Simbirsk.

Simbirsk changed hands several times that summer. Which is perhaps historically fitting: the city was the birthplace of both Alexander Kerensky, the head of the Provisional Government, and Vladimir Lenin. It was also home to Prince Alexander Ukhtomsky, whose fate over the next two years was representative of much of Russia’s landed gentry.

The Ukhtomskys were an ancient noble family descended from Rurik and the Belozersk princes. Alexander Ukhtyomsky’s father, a native of the Rybinsk region, settled in the Simbirsk area in the mid-nineteenth century. In 1918, Prince Ukhtomsky and his wife Anna owned two estates outside the city proper and a house in town. A graduate of the Department of Law at Moscow Imperial University, Ukhtomsky held a number of government and administrative positions. He also worked with the Red Cross, managing food distribution during periods of famine and war. Both he and his wife were involved in the improvement of the local educational system and Anna had taught school from the age of 18. Anna’s family, the Nazarievs, also had deep roots in the Simbirsk area, and her father, Valerian (a writer who later became the first biographer of Ilya Ulyanov, Lenin’s father), had also spent his life pursuing social and educational reforms, even building a school in his village.

The Ukhtomskys had three children, all young adults in 1918. Their son, Nikolai, graduated from the Nikolayev Calvary School in St. Petersburg in 1916 as a cornet and had fought the Germans on the Northern Front. After the complete disintegration of that Front, in the summer of 1918, he – together with a group of officers from the 5th Uhlan Lithuanian Regiment – returned to Simbirsk. The Ukhtomsky’s daughters, Maria and Natalia, had received an excellent education in local schools, earning teaching certificates, and lived with their family in their home in Simbirsk.

Neither the Ukhtomskys nor the Nazarievs were absentee landowners, as was common in many provincial areas. Their estates were productive and included dairy and stud farms. After the October 1917 revolution, their land was seized by peasant collectives and, in his written protest of this action, Prince Ukhtomsky noted that such seizures would interfere with the production and supply to Simbirsk of dairy products and other foodstuffs, critically necessary in this tumultuous period. His protest was futile, however, and his employees were driven off the estate. Eventually, everything on the estates was destroyed, including the houses and outbuildings.

Despite this persecution, Prince Ukhtomsky continued to be a part of the new city government, running for office as a member of the Constitutional Democratic Party (Kadets). In February of 1918, however, he withdrew his candidacy, as the political situation had become dangerous. Finally, in July, the Red Army occupied Simbirsk. Prince Ukhtomsky and a number of officials and tsarist officers were arrested and slated for execution.

The arrival on July 21, 1918, of the People’s Army, led by Commander Kappel, and a contingent of Czech soldiers, led by a Commander Alexander Stepanov, literally saved the lives of the officers and citizens arrested by the Bolsheviks, who were forced to abandon the town. On July 22, Simbirsk was declared to be under the authority of KOMUCH, and government officials organized several rallies, urging support for the People’s Army in the battle against the Bolsheviks. Commander Kappel spoke to the public at the town theater and, due to his efforts, the ranks of the Army were soon filled with volunteers. Although ordered to remain in Simbirsk by KOMUCH, Kappel, recognizing the need for momentum now that the army was growing, called a meeting and stated his intentions to march north on Kazan. There, he asserted, they would be able to recruit more volunteers and, perhaps more importantly, seize the Russian state gold reserve, which had been brought to Kazan by authorities for safekeeping. The members of this meeting shared Kappel’s views and agreed to accept any and all consequences of their actions, notwithstanding Samara’s order. One of those who joined Kappel on his drive to Kazan was Nikolai Ukhtomsky, as aide-de-camp to Commander Stepanov, leader of the Czech contingent.

The People’s Army and the Czechs marched on Kazan and took possession of the city on August 7, capturing the gold reserve. The general estimate was that there were 650,000,000 rubles in gold coins, 100 million paper rubles, gold bullion, a platinum reserve, and other valuables. The troops loaded it onto a ship, the Field Marshal Suvorov, and it eventually made its way to the city of Omsk.

Kappel urged a continuing march towards Moscow, but Samara refused. Two days later, in fact, the People’s Army was recalled to Simbirsk, to defend the city against the armies of Red Commander Mikhail Tukhachevsky. The battle continued for several days (August 14-16) and Kappel managed to save the city again but then was forced to return to Kazan to assist the Czechs.

The Ukhtomsky family remained in Simbirsk throughout this period, and even took a number of photographs, perhaps having a premonition that they might soon have to leave and ought to mark this point in their lives. They lived in their house in town on Vvedensky Pereulok, which overlooked the Volga. At one point during the fighting in August, a shell exploded near their home. Family members had been outside strolling in the yard and a neighbor who witnessed the explosion thought they had been killed, or at least injured. After the smoke cleared, the Ukhtomskys arose, brushed themselves off, and returned home.

Alexander Ukhtomsky had been appointed to head the Council of the Simbirsk Division of State Property and was chairman of the Simbirsk Committee of Assistance to the People’s Army. Convinced that the Whites would be victorious, he had once again agreed to be a candidate for the Simbirsk City Duma, with elections to be held in early August.

In early September, however, Tukhachevsky reorganized his forces and again attacked Simbirsk. Kappel, who had been attempting to hold the gains made further north in Kazan, returned to Simbirsk for a third time. After he and his forces departed Kazan, there was an uprising of workers there, which undermined the morale of the Czech and Russian troops. On the night of September 10, the Whites abandoned Kazan. And by the time Kappel reached Simbirsk on September 12, the Whites were in full retreat from that city, as were many of its residents. Kappel’s detachment defended the retreat, firing on the Reds from the east side of the Volga. The bridge spanning the river was blown up after all the echelons had passed through.

The Czech Legion divisions fighting alongside the People’s Army retreated along the Trans-Siberian Railway across the Urals. They were accompanied by the civilians who were forced to abandon Simbirsk. Since Prince Ukhtomsky had almost been executed by the Bolsheviks in July, he and his wife and daughters departed under Czech protection, traveling by Special Heavy Artillery train, abbreviated as “T.A.O.N.” As they traveled with other families from Simbirsk, the group formed a bond, referring to themselves as the “T.A.O.N family.” In notes on the back of a photograph, they recalled the “simple, pleasant evenings” that they spent aboard the T.A.O.N. train bound for Krasnoyarsk. Throughout the Civil War and even during their first years in exile, the Ukhtomskys and their compatriots continued to believe that victory against the Bolsheviks was only a matter of time.

The Ukhtomskys arrived in Krasnoyarsk in late October and lived there for the duration of the Civil War. Maria and Natalia taught school and Alexander worked for the Red Cross, distributing food to refugees, now arriving in great numbers. Maria married her fiancée, Giorgiy Koltunovsky, in January of 1919, and their small wedding was held at the Seminary church, followed by a “cup of tea” at the T.A.O.N Supply Command office. Nikolai remained at the front in the Urals through the end of 1919.

Commander Kappel and his forces held the Red Army at the Volga until September 27. This bought enough time for them to be joined by their units retreating from Kazan. They then began to retreat east to Ufa.

In early October, the Provisional White government moved from Ufa to Omsk, but its reign was short-lived. The escalating military crisis gave conservative members of this government both motive and opportunity to seize power. The increasingly critical situation also brought the Allies (still monitoring the situation but not yet providing real military assistance) to the conclusion that a military leader was needed in order to rally the troops. That leader turned out to be Admiral Alexander Kolchak.

Admiral Kolchak, a Russian Naval officer and polar explorer, was in charge of the Black Sea Fleet in 1917, and was famous for hurling his sword overboard rather than allowing himself to be disarmed by mutinying sailors. (see Russian Life, Nov/Dec 2009). As the Civil War dragged on, Kolchak was approached by the British and urged to take command of the armies in Siberia. He arrived in Omsk on October 13 and was persuaded to oversee the Ministries of War and Navy.

Admiral Kolchak’s relations with the Czech and Slovak Legion were poor from the beginning. The Legionnaires, fighting in a war that was not their own, felt betrayed by the absence of allied military support when they were battling on the Volga or Ural fronts. Kolchak, for his part, saw the Czechs’ retreat as a betrayal of Russia. When, on October 28, the Czechoslovak Republic was declared, the Legion lost its motive for war. They only wanted to get home, especially after the Armistice ending World War I was signed on November 11. Yet they were still trapped in the heart of Russia, still embroiled in civil war.

On November 16, Kolchak was declared Supreme Ruler of Russia, an act the Czechs considered a non-democratic seizure of power. And they were not alone. Ataman Gregory Semenov, a Baikal Cossack of Russian and Buryat origins, headquartered in Chita, had been one of the first leaders to take up arms against the Bolsheviks. He had raised a substantial army and refused to recognize Kolchak as Supreme Ruler. Kolchak declared Semenov a traitor but the dispute ended in a stalemate, as Kolchak did not have the power to bring Semenov to heel.

This lack of unity further undermined the Czechs’ will to fight. And yet, throughout the winter and spring of 1918-1919, they continued to battle against Red partisan bands across Siberia. The Czechs collected intelligence, conducted surveillance, managed lines of communication, and maintained telegraph links. They even published and distributed their own newspapers.

In the spring of 1919, Kolchak’s grand offensive to the Volga failed. By autumn, Omsk was in danger and, on November 14, Kolchak abandoned his capital. The White Army began its retreat through Siberia, later called the Great Siberian Ice March, which lasted throughout the winter of 1919-1920. Thousands died along the way.

The Ukhtomskys departed Krasnoyarsk in late December 1919, again traveling under Czech protection, eventually making their way to Harbin, China.

Though the Legion still controlled the railway, when Kolchak’s train reached Irkutsk on January 7 the socialist government of that city demanded that he and the Imperial Gold Reserve traveling with him be turned over, in exchange for the Legion’s free passage through Irkutsk. The Allied and Legion command complied, betraying their former Supreme Leader and forfeiting their gold.

The White Forces, continuing their retreat in temperatures that at times dipped to 50 below zero, struggled on. While crossing the Kan River, General Kappel fell through the ice and developed severe frostbite. As a result of advancing gangrene, his feet had to be amputated. The Legion offered Kappel a place on a hospital train but he, outraged at the Legion’s betrayal of Admiral Kolchak, refused. He continued to lead his troops.

Gravely ill, Commander Kappel held a military council on January 23. There, the decision was made to return to Irkutsk and free Kolchak. Commander Kappel died three days later (he was buried in Chita) and General Voytsekhovsky, now in command, advanced towards Irkutsk with his forces. But it was too late. On January 30, Irkutsk fell to the Bolsheviks. Fearing an impending White onslaught, they executed Admiral Kolchak on February 7. Learning of this, Voytsekhovsky called off his campaign and instead led his exhausted troops east across Lake Baikal.

The last Czech and Slovak Legion trains cleared Irkutsk by March 1. Transports carrying some 67,000 persons (including Russian women that had married Legionnaires) began to depart Vladivostok, the last one sailing on September 2, 1920. The fate of the Imperial Gold Reserve has long been debated, since the amount of gold the Bolsheviks received was significantly less than what had originally been in the trains. Some postulate that the Bank of the Czech Legion in Prague, opened after the return of the Czech Legion, was built with the missing gold. The Czechs, however, did collect pay during their years of fighting in Russia, so it is quite possible that the bank was simply financed with the money (and booty) they brought home.

Alexander and Anna Ukhtomsky lived out their lives in Harbin. They were stalwart leaders of the city’s Russian community and were deeply involved in relief efforts for Russia’s awful famines in the early 1920s. Eventually, their hopes to return to their homeland faded. In 1926, Anna wrote to an acquaintance who had emigrated to Seattle:

I very much miss our loved ones, and our motherland… and the constant talk that there are some kind of upheavals only irritates me, and I don’t believe it anymore; we have been deceived too much and too often. A possible return to Russia is being put off too far into the future and will it ever happen? I am afraid that in our lifetime it will not. And will our children ever return home?

Alexander wrote in a letter to the same acquaintance in 1927:

Personally, I was so tightly bound to my native land (my guberniya), and I was so involved in all of its affairs that, being torn from it, I feel that I will not be able to adapt anywhere and will feel a stranger everywhere.

Maria contracted typhoid fever and died in July of 1921. Her husband Giorgiy later re-married and left China, eventually settling in San Francisco. Natalia worked as a teacher throughout her life, both in Harbin and later in the U.S. Nikolai left for Europe in 1922, where he worked as a journalist. He returned to Harbin in 1929 and married Lyubov Krutova, the daughter of a Chinese Eastern Railway employee. They had two daughters, Marina and Yelena. Anna and Alexander Ukhtomsky died in 1938 and 1940 respectively.

In August 1945, Soviet forces occupied Harbin, and Prince Nikolai Ukhtomsky, along with thousands of Russian émigrés, was arrested by SMERSH. He was one of eight defendants in the 1946 “Semenov Trial,” named after the chief defendant, Ataman Gregory Semenov. All the accused were convicted of being enemies of the people, spies, and saboteurs. Semenov was sentenced to death by hanging, five other defendants were shot, one was sentenced to 15 years, and Nikolai was sentenced to 20 years of hard labor. He died in the GULAG, in a Vorkuta prison camp hospital, on August 17, 1953. That same year, his wife, daughters, and sister Natalia left China for Brazil. Natalia and Nikolai’s eldest daughter Marina re-immigrated to the United States in 1959. RL