# Heroic Story of the Czecho-Slovak Legions/War with bolsheviks

IX.
WAR WITH BOLSHEVIKS.
MILAN, March 30.
The battle of Bakmatch, fought between March 10 and 13, delivered the Czecho-Slovaks from all danger of pursuit by the Germans and Austrians, but from that moment new troubles began with the Bolshevik commanders, and eventually with the Bolshevik Government at Petrograd and Moscow. The Czecho-Slovak troops got into armed conflict with the Bolsheviks at various smaller stations, and it was evident that before long and open rupture with the Bolshevik Government would follow. The culminating point was reached by the incidents at Cheliabinsk, which mark the next turningpoint in the famous retreat, and resulted in the extraordinary situation of the Czecho-Slovaks having to fight for the possession of the whole of Siberia before they could continue their retreat. Captain “S“ resumed his story as follows:
For two weeks our Army kept moving eastward with comparative little opposition. But then the difficulties again commenced. These were due, perhaps, to a variety of causes. The Germans, after their defeat at Bakmatch, were not likely to give up their idea of worrying us, and most probably decided to obtain by negotiations and pressure on the Bolshevik Government of Lenin and Trotsky what they had not been able to obtain by force of arms. Lenin and Trotsky, perhaps, also became alarmed at the exaggerated reports of our numbers and the huge war material in our possession or under our control. They knew also, that in our hearts we were not favourable to the Bolshevik policy of anarchy and destruction, and might at any time join conservative or reactionary Russian elements. To this extent we would not have gone at that time, as our guiding principle was not to interfere in the internal affairs of Russia. Local commanders, either with or without direct orders, assumed an attitude of suspicion.
​Our first dispute was at Kursk, with the commander of the station and the local garrison of Bolsheviks, Colonel Anton of Ovsieiensko, who took upon himself to ask us to surrender our arms before proceeding further. He claimed to have orders from Moscow, but whether this was true or not, we were determined not to surrender. Our movement was suspended for awhile, and after much discussion an agreement was reached with him on March 18 to surrender some of our machine-guns and batteries. Many of these were really superfluous, having been collected after the battle of Bakmatch, and he did not know how much we retained. It was very important for us, of course, to have free passage beyond Kursk, as this station was still some 400 kilometres from Pensa, our next point of concentration, and where our troops from Bakmatch were to form their junction with those coming from Poltava. The later were moving towards Pensa, vià Kharkoff, Kubiansk, Rkiscevo, and Balashof, whilst those from Bakmatch had to pass through Orel, Yelez, and Tambof.
MOSCOW GOVERNMENT’S BAD FAITH.
Professor Masaryk himself went to Moscow to secure the free passage of our troops, and on March 20 he obtained the written authorisation from Lenin and Trotsky to continue the transport of our columns unmolested to Siberia. On his return he declared that his impression was that Lenin was anxious we should get away as soon as possible. But German intrigues, doubtless, were again at work, and, to the surprise of our commanders and the members of our National Assembly, the Soviet of Pensa, on the arrival of our first detachements, announced on March 24 that we should not be allowed to proceed further unless we completely disarmed. Thus the Moscow Government one day signed a solemn pact, and the next day was ready to rescind it. No reliance could be placed on such men. Discussion and wranglings ensued between the local Bolshevik Commissioner and our delegates. We declared that it was impossible that he should have received such an order from Moscow, and we showed him the written authorisation. He showed us the telegram from Moscow. There was no further doubt. The Moscow Government wanted us to give up our arms. This we would not do without some further agreement. On March 26 a Bolshevik plenipotentiary, instructed from Moscow, once more made a proposal which we were obliged to accept. Three battalions out of each regiment were to be disarmed, and only one battalion was to retain a certain number of rifles, with 100 cartridges for each rifle, and one machine-gun. Each echelon consisted of about one battalion, so that the rifles had to be distributed among various echelons in order not to leave them entirely without defence.
​The order was anything but popular with our men. They succeeded in evading it to a large extent. They hid their rifles where they could, under the cars, and in partitions which they made inside the cars, where they stored any number of rifles, cartridges, and hand-grenades. The superfluous rifles and ammunition was then handed over to the Bolsheviks. The scheme, probably a diabolical one suggested by the Germans, who had now become the dictators at Petrograd and Moscow, was to leave us eventually at the mercy of the German, Austrian, and Magyar prisoners in Siberia, who, as we later discovered, were allowed freely to arm themselves and formed big armies to prevent our passage and to annihilate us in the wilds of Siberia.
It was lucky that our men did not entirely disarm, and, in fact, two whole regiments which had not yet reached Pensa remained fully armed and refused to surrender a gun or rifle. Two of our most forward regiments, on the other hand, which had already passed Pensa, got orders to proceed as quickly as possible to Vladivostok. They also retained their arms, and thus it happened that when the most critical moment came our two regiments at each extremity were well equipped and able to defend those in between. The two regiments that were allowed to proceed in advance travelled so fast, in fact, almost with the speed of express trains, that they got to Vladivostok about April 25.
MYSTERIOUS DIFFICULTIES.
Sacrifices were made to enable these troops to get away quickly. The other echelons began to be scattered over long distances, in about sixty or seventy trains, separated 40 and 50 kilometres from each other, and eventually even at greater distances. Days and weeks passed before our trains got a chance to move, and then they could only crawl along at a snail’s pace. There were mysterious entanglements and difficulties at every stage. The commanders of our echelons had to wait, to be patient, and discuss with the local Soviets and commanders. The month of April thus passed, and we had not yet been able to cover the whole of the 1,000 kilométres that separated us from the first stations of the Siberian border. There were frequent scuflies at various stations with Bolshevik troops. About the middle of April many of our echelons had trouble with local commanders, who insisted on further disarming, to which our officers and men would not consent.
Each unit now had to depend much upon its own resources, and each was ready to defend itself, and, if necessary, to make its passage by force of arms. No army was ever scattered over such a vast distance and harassed by so many difficulties. The Bolsheviks, without any strong union between themselves, were like swarms of wild wasps, stinging and worrying where they could. Their plan seemed to separate our ​echelons as far from one another and to disarm them as much as possible, and then to fall upon them when they would be completely at their mercy. Whether this came from German intrigues, or from the fear of Lenin and Trotsky that we might join some Russian forces, we did not know. From whatever source it came, there seemed to be a general understanding to make our progress very difficult, if not altogether impossible.
By the end of April our movement was entirely stopped. Our last echelon was still at Rkiscevo, and our first was already at Vladivostock. The distance between them was about 8,000 kilometres! It may be stated that at the beginning a formal authorisation for our troops to proceed to Vladivostock was signed and given by General Muraviev, the commander-in-chief of the Bolshevik army, but the Moscow Soviet soon took the matter out of his hands, and his signature no longer counted for anything. One of our echelons was held up a whole month at Tambov, just because the local Soviet and commander had so decided. It was enough to hold back all the other echelons behind it. The situation was intolerable.
On May 9 the Vice-President of our National Assembly, Professor Maxa, took the risk of going to Moscow to protest to the Soviet. The journey was a hazardous one. On two previous occasions our delegates had been badly received. One group, consisting of our members, was imprisoned at one place, tried by a Bolshevik court-martial, and sentenced to death. Our delegates suspected what was in store for them, and they succeeded in escaping from arrest before the sentence could be carried out, and eventually returned to our troops disguised as Bolshevik soldiers. It was a clear indication that we Czecho-Slovaks had come to be regarded as enemies by the Bolsheviks in Moscow and other places. The climax was soon reached, and we were in a declared state of war with the Bolsheviks in the whole region of the Volga and from one end of Siberia to the other. Our supremacy was not achieved till after we had severe engagements, resulting invariably in victories, at Pensa, Sysran, Kazan, Simbirsk, Yekaterinburg, Krasnoyarsk, Omsk, Irkutsk, the Baikal region, and Vladivostock.
THE CHELIABINSK INCIDENT.
The incident that led to the culminating point took place at Cheliabinsk, the first station in Siberia on the other side of the Ural region. Towards the end of April, when the situation become very strained, the delegates and members of our National Assembly, or at least as many as could be informed, were convened for consultation at Cheliabinsk. The last of them had left Piriakin and travelled by various routes to Siberia, where they left they would be more secure, and many had ​arrived by the beginning of May. It was known that the Moscow Goverment had given strict orders to suspend our movement entirely. One of the excuses they offered was that they could not continue to convey our troops such vast distance, and that they would see to our transport vià Murmansk. They also referred to the rumours that the Finns were moving to cut off the railway line to Murmansk and that the Russian troops had to prepare to fight them. We had been armed in Russia, and it was our duty to fight with the Russians against the Finns. It was an evident trap for us, and our delegates refused to be led into it. The encouragement given by the Bolsheviks in Siberia to the German, Austrian, and Magyar prisoners was proof that they intended no good to us. Whilst they hampered our movement, they favoured that of the German and Austrian ex-prisoners, who obtained trains and were beginning to come from Siberia in shoals. It was the arrival of these prisoners that caused the incident at Cheliabinsk.
Three trains with ex-prisoners—Germans, Austrians, and Magyars—reached the Cheliabinsk Station in the beginning of May when one of our echelons was there. The ex-prisoners had exhausted their provisions, and complained that they were starving. Our soldiers, out of compassion, shared their rations with them, and gave them part of their own bread. The Germans, instead of being grateful for this kindness, remained sullen, and behaved arrogantly. This was quickly noticed by our own men, who then kept away from them. On the morning of May 14 one of the prisoner trains started moving out of the station. As it did so, the Germans in their cars shouted insults at our men, who were standing and looking on. As the last car was moving out of the station a German flung a big iron bar into a group of our soldiers. The bar struck a Czech on the head, causing a deep wound, and he fell in a swoon. It looked as if he had been killed. He certainly was gravely injured. Our men’s wrath was up in an instant. The whole echelon started after the moving train, and compelled the engine-driver to stop. The Germans in the last car were surrounded, the miscreant who had flung the iron bar was seized, and thoroughly beaten. He died from his injuries.
FRIGHTENING THE SOVIET.
The excitement at the station was intense. There was a garrison of 2,000 Soviet troops at Cheliabinsk, and the Bolshevik guards intervened. It was decided to appoint a commitee of inquiry, and the local Soviet, as we knew later, sent a telegram to Moscow considerably distorting the facts. Some of our soldiers were summoned by the commitee as witnesses, and when they presented themselves were kept under arrest. A delegation of our officers and men then went to the Soviet to ask for their release. The Bolsheviks, without further ceremony, also arrested ​the delegation. There was then no holding our men back. Captain Ulrich, our senior officer, sent an armed company into the demand the immediate surrender of our officers and men so treacherously detained. The Soviet took fright, and, although they had 2,000 men at their command, they dared not appeal to them. They handed out the prisoners and apologised. Our company returned quietly to the station.
The local Soviet, however, did not give itself up as beaten. They informed us that the inquiry would continue, and that they were asking for instructions from Moscow. Our echelon was kept at the station for ten days. We had taken the precaution of occupying most of the station buildings, and also getting hold of the telegraph wires. The surprise came in the form of a telegram from Trotsky, which our operator caught. It was a secret instruction to the Soviet of Cheliabinsk and to the Bolshevik authorities everywhere to arrest and disarmour troops by force, if necessary, wherever we might to be, and to shoot any Czecho-Slovak thereafter found with a rifle. It was one of the usual drastic Bolshevik methods. Either obey or be shot! But this time Trotsky did not calculate well what he was doing. We may be sure that he regrets that telegram to this day. It was one of his biggest mistakes.
Our delegates, who were at Cheliabinsk, were not slow in coming to a conclusion. It was an open declaration of war against us, and was accepted as such. As we had possession of the telegraph wires of Cheliabinsk, we also used them, and we informed our echelons wherever we could. But as this was likely soon to be reported to Moscow we did not stop there. The delegates to our National Assembly took it upon themselves personally to inform our numerous echelons east and west as far down the lines as possible. Some of them travelled hundreds of miles, and when they could not go quickly enough themselves they sent confidential messengers, all dressed as Russian or Bolshevik soldiers in disguise. The commanders of our echelons were to take possession of all the stations, disarm all Bolshevik garrisons or put them to flight, take over all provisions and war materials, and if necessary occupy towns. In a word they were to act and defend themselves and protect the other echelons as in an enemy’s country.
CAPTURE OF CHELIABINSK.
The first thing to be done was to capture Cheliabinsk itself. We knew that the Soviet of Cheliabinsk had given orders for the garrison to take us prisoners the following morning. At eight o’clock the Bolsheviks were to move on the station from the three separate barracks which they occupied. We made sure to be four hours ahead of them. Fortunately we had two battalions at Cheliabinsk. The troops were got ready during the night, and at four o’clock they surrounded each of the three ​barracks. They fired a salvo into the windows, which startled the Bolshevik troops from their sleep. The Bolsheviks jumped out of their beds and appeared at the windows, making signs of surrender. In a quarter of an hour all three barracks were in our possession, and the whole Bolshevik garrison was taken prisoner and disarmed. We next took possession of the town of Cheliabinsk, which has about 70,000 inhabitants.
In the barracks we found 12,000 rifles and thirty guns and a good supply of ammunition. The people in the town held public rejoicings. Delegations from the inhabitants came to congratulate us and to thank us as their deliverers. They had already had enough of the Bolshevik terror and of the Red Guards. The town had been living in privation and misery ever since it was occupied by the Bolsheviks. No provisions arrived by train, and the peasants ceased bringing their products to the town because they were invariably plundered by the Red Guards. Many of our soldiers, on merely showing themselves in the streets, were embraced, and for days there were rejoicings. We obtained all the supplies we needed from the country round about, and even more than we wanted, simply in return for the protection we offered. The peasants again came into town with carts loaded with provisions, the shops and markets reopened, and Cheliabinsk once more assumed a prosperous and happy aspect. This was the instant transformation in all Russian and Siberian towns whenever we occupied them. The people everywhere received us as deliverers.
On the same day (May 26) our troops occupied the station of Poletaievo, some sixty kilometres west, and the next day the station of Myash, 100 kilometres west Cheliabinsk, on the border-line between Russia and Siberia. Most of our echelons had received their orders before Moscow was aware of what was happening. Only a fev of our echelons were attacked by the Bolsheviks before they got information from our messengers, and in each case they defended themselves successfully. We immediately extended our occupation over other railway lines, among them the line to Perm and Ekaterinburg. We also took possession of the second Siberian line running down from the north to Omsk. The Moscow Government before long found itself completely cut off from all Siberia by rail or telegraph, and its only means of communication was by wireless, but it could not reach some of the most important points by that means. At all events, whatever orders it sent necessarily also fell into our hands.
BOLSHEVIKS ROUTED.
Our echelon at Zlatoust, more than 150 kilometres by rail west of Cheliabinsk, was attacked by a strong Bolshevik force of about 2,000 men. Our men were in their train at the time the attack was ​made, and were taken by surprise. The Bolsheviks, when a short distance from the train, opened fire with their machine-guns. They made the mistake of setting up their machine-guns too close to the train. In a few jumps our men were upon them. They simply rushed out of their cars, throwing stones or anything they could lay hold of at the Red Guards, and captured their machine guns, which they immediately turned on the Bolsheviks. About thirty of our men were killed, but the Bolsheviks were routed. The echelon under the command of Captain Müller found itself isolated and unable to proceed by train. The locomotive and cars were out of use, and the line was damaged. They came to the heroic decision of going on foot to Siberia. The difficulty was to carry with them all the wounded, who numbered about fifty. The most gravely wounded begged them not to trouble, but to take only the slightly wounded with them. The few who would remain behind felt sure that relief would soon come from some other echelon.
Captain Müller and his battalion thus started on a march of nearly 200 kilometres across the Ural Moutains. They had no guides, there were no roads, and most of their march was through forests. The Bashkirs, Mongol inhabitations in the mountains, were very kind to them, gave them food, and showed them the direction as best they could. They relied chiefly on the compass, and marched east until they should get near some town. After a march of five days they came to the vicinity of the railway line again, and found that the station of Myash was not many kilometres away. They sent a soldier dressed as a Bashkir, accompanied by a real native Bashkir, to get information. They were arrested by our own men, who had already been in possession of Myash Station for several days. Our soldier made known who he was, and that a Czech echelon which had marched more than 150 kilometres was up in the woods under the command of a Czech officer. He was sent back in a hurry to inform Captain Müller that he could come to Myash without fear, the Czechs being in possession.
During the week that marked the end of May, 1918. and the beginning of June, we captured the greater part of the stations in the region of the Volga through which our echelons had to pass. They took possession either by force or stratagem as the case required. The most daring feat was accomplished by a few Czecho-Slovak soldiers in the station of Pensa. They told the Red Guards of an armoured train that mines had been laid at a number of points, and that if their train proceeded it would surely be blown up. The Red Guards, who easily believed anything they were told, abandoned the train with its machine-guns, and our men took possession of it, and held it till our companies came up. Our soldiers did wonderful work, disguising themselves as Red Guards, mixing with the Bolsheviks, and finding out all about the ​emplacement of the base depôts, and the provision centres. The information was afterwards of use to our commanders, who were thus able to occupy them when necessary.
MOSCOW’S COMMUNICATIONS CUT.
There were, at the time of the rupture, on May 26, about 50 echelons from Rkiscevo in the region of the Volga to Irkutsk in Siberia. Our echelons near Pensa had orders to go back and assist the others that were behind and to collect all the arms and ammunition which they had abandoned. For about ten days our central direction at Cheliabinsk was in a state of great suspense to know whether all the operations succeeded. But cheerful news came in every day, and finally telegraphic connections were established between the greater part of the echelons, and their movements could be co-ordinated. Whilst occupying the railway line from Pensa to Sysran, Samara, Zlatoust, and Cheliabinsk for a distance of about 1,000 kilometres, we also succeeded in occupying the second railway line a little farther north in the Central Ural region from Perm to Yekaterinburg, a distance of about 200 kilometres, and down to Omsk. Thereby we cut off Moscow entirely from direct telegraphic or railway communicafion with Siberia. We held important positions or the Volga, but it was not safe for us to leave our echelons there, and they were gradually moved east of Pensa to Samara. It was not done without numerous incidents and engagements with the Bolsheviks, who were now in active pursuit whenever they got the chance.
On the very first day of the conflict the Bolsheviks at Certopsk, about 100 kilometres south-west of Pensa, sent a locomotive at full speed against a train, crowded by one of our echelons, which was standing in the station. The locomotive, which came at a terrific speed and, of course, unannounced, dashed into the last cars of the train before many of our men could jump out. There was a great crash, half a dozen cars were smashed, seventy of our men were killed outright, and a large number injured. A Bolshevik detachement followed it up by an attack with rifles and machine-guns, but our troops defended themselves with spirit, routed the Bolsheviks, and took possession of the station.
After all our extreme echelons in the west had been concentrated at Pensa they started to abandon that station on May 29, moving towards Sysran. There were small skirmishes with the Bolsheviks, who, however, were invariably driven off or captured. On June 2 we left Sysran, and on June 3 all our troops had passed over from the western banks of the Volga, crossing safely the big bridge at Sysran. On June 8 they occupied Samara, the extreme western point which it was decided to hold against the Bolsheviks. Thus in a fortnight we were masters of ​the railway lines, the principal stations, and practically the whole region east of the Volga. We had recovered all our material, and were now fully armed, well provided, and in possession of the telegraph wires, and had large stores of war material and provisions at our disposal. It was a daring achievement for such a small army as ours, and excited surprise and panic in Moscow, where the rumours were spread that we were half a million in number. The fact is we were at that time only from 70,000 to 80,000, and our number never exceeded 100,000.