Maid of Baikal: A Novel of the Russian Civil War

The war council met the following night in a similarly foul mood, for Zhanna’s Voices had told her that Uralsk must be taken within ten days or the campaign would fail. By then, she said, Red reinforcements would arrive. Moreover, the Ural Cossack cavalry would soon be required elsewhere and dared not leave Uralsk unsecured in their rear. Nonetheless, Tolstov and Denisov resisted Zhanna’s proposal to move immediately against the city, claiming that more heavy arms were needed, and also that insufficient food and forage existed in Uralsk’s immediate environs to support the Maid’s brigade.

Zhanna cast an annihilating glance at Tolstov and, just as tempers were about to flare, Colonel Denisov entered the tent holding a sheaf of telegrams in his hand.

“We have splendid news from Guryev!” the mustachioed Cossack announced, waving the telegrams above his head with a triumphant gleam in his dark eyes. “British gunboats have arrived and are unloading more armaments than our men have ever seen! Rifles, ammunition, grenades, machine guns, trench mortars with a vast supply of bombs, and precious shells for our artillery. But best of all: a dozen Austin armored cars, complete with fuel, parts, and munitions. Perhaps enough to take Uralsk, if we use them well.”

“Do we have men properly trained on them?” a gray-whiskered cavalry officer asked.

“Before leaving Omsk, we surveyed the Maid’s volunteers and found a goodly number with training as crewmen and mechanics,” Ivashov replied. “Some have experience against Germany, others with the Czech Legion last summer.”

“And mortarmen?” the old cavalryman demanded.

“That, too, Uncle,” Ivashov answered. “We have trained some mortar crews with the few mortars we have on hand. As for machine guns, we’ve always had far more gunners than guns. No, uncle, the new equipment will not go to waste, I assure you.”

Unable to conceal his delight at the news, Tolstov rose to his feet and thrust out his breast like a pigeon. He pointed a tobacco-stained finger at Denisov and bellowed to his officers.

“Send the armored car drivers to the port at once! And take enough wagons to transport the needed supplies to Uralsk. The rest of us will join the armored column there and make final plans for the assault.”

The men divided the tasks among them with great excitement. But Zhanna looked anything but pleased as she raised her voice above the commotion to challenge the Cossack leader.

“Tell me my ears deceive me, general,” she demanded. “Tell me you did not order your men to Uralsk only to delay there even longer. We have no time left! We must attack immediately!”

“But our current plans don’t take the new weaponry into account!” Tolstov protested, stunned by the Maid’s objection.

“Time is of the essence, general! Even now, the Fifth Red Army is advancing toward Ufa, where the retreating Western Army will mount its final defense. We must take Uralsk with enough time to send our cavalry on a raid deep into the Fifth Red Army’s rear to draw off enough forces to stall the Reds at Ufa. If we wait, the enemy will destroy what remains of the Western Army there and return to destroy us here!”

“I’ve never heard such utter nonsense!” Tolstov fumed. “Our Western Army is not in retreat! Just yesterday they were at Buguruslan!”

“And today they abandoned it without a fight!” Zhanna countered. “Within the week, General Khanzin will be in headlong retreat toward Ufa to make a final stand along the Belaya River. We must not allow him to be defeated!”

“But how do you expect us to believe this gibberish?” Tolstov protested. “How can you possibly know of events that are yet to happen?”

“Because my Voices tell me so, and they have never told me wrong,” Zhanna replied, fixing the general with a steely eye. “Ask Governor Volkov. Or Lebedev or Dieterichs. Or the Supreme Ruler himself! I would not be standing here before you if my Voices had not often predicted the shape of things to come. Oh, how I weary of having to prove this over and over again!”

“All right, then, young lady,” Tolstov replied after a long pause to stamp out his cigarette and light another from his silver case. “We shall move with all due speed and begin our artillery barrage without waiting for the armored cars to arrive. With any luck, our haste may gain us the advantage of surprise, and surprise is always a soldier’s best friend.”

“Bravo, general, such news warms my heart!” Zhanna greeted Tolstov with a look of relief, seizing his hand in hers. “But make no mistake, surprise or no, our victory will not owe itself to luck. Even our new weapons are the Lord’s doing. So let us be grateful for His gifts and pray for the guidance we will need to deploy them well.”

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