Whether or not this sentiment caused him any concern is not recorded in either Reilly’s dispatches or in his diary. He could not fail but notice the general disenchantment among the people, however, and warned that workers were being ‘driven into the arms of the Bolsheviks by the suppression of every kind of labour association’,45 and that all sections of society were outraged by the reactionary character and abuse of power by the regime of Cossack leader Peter Krasnov. Reilly was certainly correct in believing that Krasnov’s recent alliance with Denikin could not be relied upon, nor could Krasnov be trusted to respect Denikin’s authority.46 Proof of Reilly’s concerns about Krasnov were confirmed when the Cossack ‘flared up’ in a ‘rather aggressive way’47 during a meeting between the two. Krasnov stridently put forward the view that Denikin’s Volunteer Army command was only ‘thinking of grasping the maximum amount of power’.48 He also felt that the formation of Denikin’s government was ‘still in the experimental stages’. By contrast, he asserted that his own government had ‘a fully organised apparatus to take charge not only of the military but also of the economical tasks’.49
On a personal note, Reilly noted disapprovingly that Gen. Poole was still ‘fooling around’ with two women.50 It is not clear, however, whether his displeasure was incurred by the ‘fooling around’ or that they were ‘such ugly women’.51 Reilly felt that this made a very ‘bad impression’!
On 22 January Reilly and Hill received news that, on C’s recommendation, they were to receive the Military Cross ‘for distinguished services rendered in connection with Military operations in the Field’.52 That evening Reilly treated everyone to champagne, but noted in his diary that Col. Terence Keyes had refused to drink and was behaving ‘like a cad and fool’.53 Keyes and Reilly had taken an immediate dislike to each other on first meeting. Reilly’s diary is punctuated with a number of remarks about Keyes’ caddish behaviour. For his part, Reilly seems to have taken some delight in ‘annoying him immensely’.54
On 3 February Reilly and Hill arrived in Odessa on the last leg of their mission together. The next day Hill was due to return to England and at Reilly’s behest they spent part of the day strolling around the city. While walking along Alexandrovsky Prospect, Reilly’s steps began to falter, his face went white and he fell to the ground. After some minutes he recovered but refused to discuss what had happened. Hill assumed that this was the result of an emotional crisis, possibly triggered by childhood memories or the like.55 This incident occurred outside house No. 15, and for this reason Hill theorised that Reilly may possibly have lived there as a child. While it is most likely that Reilly’s ‘emotional crisis’ was in fact a mild epileptic fit of the type he was prone to have at times of acute stress, the story is an intriguing one. Was it coincidental that his collapse occurred at this particular spot or was there perhaps, as Hill thought, something there that might have brought it about?
During the 1880s and ’90s, No. 15 was owned by one Filuring Leon Solomonovich.56 There are no indications that anyone by the name of Rosenblum owned the property at any time during Reilly’s lifetime. His family could, of course, have been tenants, although following up such a theory is next to impossible due to the destruction of records for this particular period during the Second World War. However, one further possibility has since come to light as a result of research into Rosenblum family records. Five houses from the spot where Reilly fell stands 27 Alexandrovsky Prospect, the home of the late Mikhail Rosenblum, occupied in 1919 by his daughter Elena Rosenblum.57
Late the following day Reilly accompanied Hill to Constanza Station to see him off on his long journey home. For reasons not apparent or explained, Reilly records in his diary ‘saw Hill off; were shot at’.58 This is a most puzzling reference, for it does not appear in Hill’s recollection of his departure. Although it is possible that this incident happened to Reilly after Hill’s train had departed, the circumstances surrounding the incident remain a mystery.
The very same day that Hill departed from Odessa, Margaret Reilly arrived in London from Brussels. Having heard nothing from her husband as a result of her recent letters, Margaret had crossed the Channel, booked into the Buckingham Hotel off the Strand, and made a beeline for the Air Ministry. There she met one G.E. Pennington, who later wrote a brief minute of their meeting:
These wives of Reilly are rather tiresome. About two months ago one came to the Air Ministry and asked for his address. I passed her on to Carrington. She gave an address at Brixton Hill, 2 Maplestead Road. However, I don’t think it will do the Bolsheviks or the Germans any good to let MI1c’s man have a little licence.59
She was, however, given the address of Capt. Spencer at the War Office, to whom she wrote on 4 February:
Dear Sir,
I have been advised at the Air Ministry – by Capt. Talbot, room 443 – to address myself to you by letter in order to have information of my husband, Lt S.G. Reilly, technical air officer. I appeal to you most earnestly to let me know where he is and how I can communicate with him.
When the war broke out my husband was in Petrograd where he was established as Naval Agent and Ship Broker. The outbreak of hostilities surprised me in Brussels where I remained on hoping to receive a message there from Mr Reilly. None came, and eventually it was impossible to communicate with my husband. Trusting in your courtesy and kindness for an early reply,
This, at last seemed to do the trick. Capt. Talbot had clearly established who Reilly was and noted that he was seconded to SIS. He therefore gave her the name of Capt. Spencer, a non-existent officer, whose name was used by senior SIS personnel when dealing with persons outside the department. As a result, a letter was sent to Reilly in Odessa. Whatever Margaret said to him in the letter it had the desired effect. Within days of receipt he cabled SIS in London as follows:
19 February 1919
Please pay Mrs REILLY from my account £100. Please inform her that I shall [group indecipherable] further provision when I return.61
This reply was written at the London Hotel, Odessa, where he had checked in on 9 February. Now operating alone, his final dispatches were chiefly about the situation he found in Odessa. Southern Russia was divided into two Allied operational zones, the eastern zone British, the western zone French. The city of Odessa therefore had a French garrison of some 60,000 men, whom Reilly criticised for their ‘decidedly unfriendly’ attitude towards the Volunteer Army. He was particularly critical of Col. Henri Freydenberg, who he accused of deliberately obstructing the Volunteers’ efforts to supply, mobilise and operate their own forces. In particular he accused the French of ‘treating Russian staff officers with a total lack of elementary courtesy and even with insulting rudeness’, and of converting Odessa ‘into one of the worst administered and least safe cities in the world’.62
On 21 February Reilly requested, ‘that I be ordered to return home as my further stay here is a waste of time and only verbal reports can elucidate this intricate situation’.63 By 10 March he was in Constantinople for a conference with John Picton Bagge and the Assistant British High Commissioner to Constantinople, Rear Admiral Richard Webb. Reilly’s reports were described by Webb as ‘disquieting’ and he immediately arranged for Reilly to leave for London so that he could give a full personal account at the Foreign Office. Walford Selby of the FO’s Russian Department concluded that Reilly’s reports contained ‘a fund of useful information on the subject of the whole situation in South Russia’.64 He also marked a copy of Reilly’s dispatch 13, concerning the state of affairs in Odessa, ‘Circulated to the king and War Cabinet’.