Maid of Baikal: A Novel of the Russian Civil War

“Our latest intelligence confirms that Fifth Red Army troop strength in the Samara-Simbirsk salient has more than doubled since the mid-April thaw,” Ward went on. “In the north, Trotsky has replaced the Third Army’s entire leadership, thereby restoring discipline and fighting morale. In Moscow, Petrograd, and other Soviet cities, the Bolsheviks have conscripted between ten and twenty percent of all industrial workers, backed by promises of food, threats of arrest, and a new propaganda campaign. Many of the conscripts are veterans of the war against Germany. But most importantly, the Reds have brought every last one of their artillery pieces and machine guns to bear upon us. The Western Army is now badly outgunned, even where once we possessed a decisive superiority in men and weaponry.”

The Englishman paused to give his words full effect. He stared across the table and his audience glared back in stony silence.

“The question now before us is…”

“Where did you get your information?” the Chief of Staff interrupted in a sharp voice. “And why were we not informed before this?” he challenged, pushing his chair roughly from the table.

“You were informed. We delivered the information to Liberty House several days ago, though perhaps you were at the front,” Ward replied. “As to our sources, some of it comes from British Intelligence in London, and some was gathered by Captain du Pont’s wireless unit. I assure you that the information and analysis are quite solid.”

Lebedev twisted his gold wedding ring around his finger and looked around the table to assess the reaction from his colleagues. Their faces remained largely expressionless and drained of color.

“Very well, then. We will examine the intelligence later,” Lebedev went on. “You may continue.”

“The question at hand is how best to minimize our losses from the impending Red counteroffensive,” Ward asserted. “My colleagues and I recommend withdrawing the Northern Army to its base at Perm and the Western Army to the Belaya River at Ufa, there to hold a defensive line over the summer until fresh reserves are ready.”

“Preposterous!” declared a monocled young officer sitting stiffly at Lebedev’s right hand. “Our men are now within eighty versts of Samara and Kazan, with the Red Army retreating faster than we can advance. We have only to push forward and Moscow will be within our grasp!”

“Those of your troops who are closest to the enemy also lack food, ammunition and fuel,” Ward replied in a low voice, looking the young officer in the eye. “If not withdrawn, Staff Captain Titov, they will be overrun or will defect to the enemy. When one’s ammunition pouch is empty, audacity will not suffice.”

“Supply is the province of the Minister of War,” Titov sniffed. “The problem lies…”

Given the Englishman’s well-known intolerance for blame shifting, Lebedev silenced his subordinate with a headshake and bade Ward to continue.

“We also recommend repositioning your forces from north to south to strengthen the Western Army’s left flank,” Ward went on. “With the Fourth Red Army still in disarray from its recent defeats, we may be able to throw them off balance by threatening a linkup with Denikin’s AFSR at Tsaritsyn. This might draw off forces from the expected Red counterattack toward Ufa, reducing the risk of an enemy breakthrough there. Alternatively, if the Reds leave the south undefended, our Cossacks can disrupt the Red counteroffensive with raids to their rear. If executed properly, these moves may buy us time to restart the offensive by summer’s end.”

“Am I to understand that you would have us forfeit the gains we have won by our spring offensive only to pay for them a second time later in the year?” Lebedev demanded in a menacing voice.

“If you do not give up a great part of these gains, general, they will be taken from you,” Ward answered. “And perhaps much more. Need I belabor the danger of permitting the Reds to retake Ufa and occupy the Urals passes once again before winter?”

Ward paused again for dramatic effect before concluding.

“Holding a defensive line in the north over the summer will permit us to mount a joint offensive later in the south with the AFSR,” he proposed. “During this time, General Denikin will likely mount his own offensive toward Kharkov, drawing Red forces toward the west. With any success, perhaps this winter we may be able to join Denikin and Yudenich in a fresh drive toward Moscow.”

Ned looked across the table at the Chief of Staff and despaired that the Stavka was saddled with such a witless windbag at a time when it needed Russia’s very best military minds. But judging by Lebedev’s knitted brow and clenched fists, it was clear that he had no intention of giving up his cherished position.