‘Still waiting?’ Paul put in. ‘I would have thought the ships would already be in Vladivostok ready for when the Czechs arrived.’
Cumming ignored him. ‘Given the way things stand, the Supreme Allied War Council believe this is too good an opportunity to miss. Particularly now the Americans are on board.’
‘On board? With the Vladivostok evacuation, you mean?’
‘The situation, Rostov. Men in Murmansk, the Legion controlling the Trans-Siberian line. The opportunity this affords. There is a tide in the affairs of men…’
Paul looked at the map again but it didn’t help any more than Cumming quoting Shakespeare did.
‘What situation and opportunity do you mean?’
Browning sighed loudly. ‘Didn’t I say as much, Cumming?’
‘As we speak,’ Cumming went on, ignoring the interruption, ‘more troops are on their way to Archangel. They expect to land at the beginning of next month.’
‘To guard other supplies?’
Cumming merely stared at him.
Paul stared back, a small portion of the penny beginning to drop. ‘British troops? Are you telling me, sir, that we’re invading Russia?’
‘It isn’t to be termed an “invasion”,’ Cumming told him. ‘It’s an intervention.’
Paul didn’t immediately grasp the subtlety of the difference. All he could think of was, that after four years of beating themselves to a bloody standstill against the Germans on the western front — never mind Gallipolli and all the other fronts around the world — someone had now had the bright idea of invading Russia as well. He wondered if there was ever going to be an end to the folly. Hadn’t enough blood been spilt on needless adventures already without them having to find yet another to embark upon?
‘Why?’ was all he could find to say.
‘Because the government in its wisdom has decided that the time is ripe,’ Cumming replied. ‘The Social-Revolutionary Party has split with the Bolsheviks over the peace treaty with Germany and they’ve assassinated Count Mirbach, the German ambassador. We have had reports that they attempted a coup at the Fifth All-Russian Congress in Moscow earlier this month. It failed and the Bolsheviks arrested several of the SR leaders. Consequently many SRs are disaffected. The leader of the Bolshevik army on the Volga, Muraviev, and his Lettish Rifles have refused orders and rebelled. Now they’re not the sort of people we want to get in bed with, naturally, but there are others and it’s believed another push or two will be enough to remove the Bolsheviks from power. Once that happens the eastern front against the Germans can be reopened.’
Paul supposed his face must have betrayed what he was thinking. Browning adopted a hectoring tone:
‘There are other considerations, Rostov. I don’t think you can be aware of the political situation. At least, not as it pertains to our working classes. The miners, for example, and the shipbuilders on the Clyde…’
Paul wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. The situation as it pertains to our working classes…?
Browning was absolutely right — Paul wasn’t aware of the political situation because for the last two years he had been too busy trying to keep himself alive in the Ypres Salient. What did he know about shipbuilders on the Clyde? About any of the working classes, come to that? He’d never met any until he’d been given a platoon to command and shoved into a trench. They had seemed to him like an alien species and the fact that they generally did what he asked of them was more to do with the intimidating NCOs he’d been given rather anything he’d done.
‘If we crush this revolution now,’ Browning stated, ‘we won’t have to do it later.’
‘As well as Murmansk, Archangel and Vladivostok there will be landings on the Black Sea coast,’ Cumming resumed, bringing the matter back to one of logistics. ‘The first resistance to the Bolshevik coup was in the south. Rostov-on-Don,’ he added, eyeing Paul as if the fact he had the same name was pertinent. ‘General Deniken has assumed command of the southern forces. General Kornilov managed to escape from Petrograd but we’ve had reports that he was killed in shelling in the Kuban in April. We have no information as to whether your cousin was with him or not.’
‘Mikhail?’
‘You’re no doubt aware of his involvement in Kornilov’s coup attempt last September?’
‘What coup? No, I had no idea.’
Browning and Cumming exchanged glances again.
‘You do know that Kerensky made Kornilov commander-in-chief of the eastern front, I suppose? Whether Kerensky colluded in the coup isn’t clear. It’s equally possible he was the target. He certainly maintains as much. The whole affair was something of a fiasco, I’m afraid.’ Cumming adopted a pained expression. ‘We haven’t many details but we do know that after the unrest in July when the Bolsheviks first tried to seize power, Kornilov decided to move on Petrograd. He had support in the capital of course — your cousin and other right-wingers — but the whole thing seems to have been disorganised. The regiment Kornilov despatched failed to reach Petrograd and the men turned on their officers. The coup attempt was just the sort of thing the Bolsheviks had warned against and so played right into their hands.’ He shook his head, dislodging the monocle. ‘After July they’d been pariahs. All Kornilov managed to do was rehabilitate them. Kerensky tried denouncing the coup but by then he’d lost all credibility. The general charged with taking Petrograd shot himself and Kornilov was arrested. All Kerensky did, whether he knew about the coup in advance or not, was to alienate what was left of the officer corps. After that things just went to the dogs.’ He stared moodily at the map for a moment before continuing. ‘We believe your cousin managed to evade arrest although whether he went south or not we’re not sure. We’ve had no word on him.’
Paul didn’t give a hoot about Mikhail. What he cared about, if they were landing troops in Archangel and on the Black Sea, was what they wanted of him.
Cumming appeared to read his mind.
‘You are no doubt asking yourself how you can be of assistance, given the situation.’
That wasn’t quite how Paul would have put it, but he realised the answer would be the same.
‘Communication isn’t easy at the best of times and to make matters worse we’ve lost the telegraph. The French have some liaison officers with the Czechs who, needless to say, are still as keen as the Czech National Council to get them out of Russia — either through Omsk and thence to Archangel or via Vladivostok, whichever’s quickest. The War Office have a different plan.’
‘The French liaison officers will follow orders once they’re in a position to receive orders,’ Browning put in. ‘Masaryk and Beneš at the Czech National Council have fallen in line. Once it was made clear to them where their best interests lay.’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you do since you’re the wrong Ross,’ Cumming said, ‘but frankly we haven’t the time to put you in the picture. You’ll have to take us on trust until Hart can fill you in on the details. The important thing is to do what we can to assist the War Office in their aim.’
‘Which is?’
‘To turn the Legion around and move west.’ Cumming turned to the map once more to demonstrate, perhaps, how easy it would be. ‘The Czech rear is currently here to the east of Chelyabinsk and Ekaterinburg. The War Office plan is to make it the front line and push west. Caught between the Legion and the allied forced moving south from Murmansk and Archangel and north from the Black Sea, the Bolshevik movement will be snuffed out before it takes root.’
‘Why would the Legion turn west and fight the Bolsheviks when all they want is to go east to fight the Austrians and Germans?’