Chapter 8

As the days passed, the extent of the disaster began to dawn on everyone. No more ships came the next day, nor the next. Three days went past and even the most optimistic had to admit that any surviving ships would have to be running out of coal.

Yvgeny Gorshin arrived at the private sanatorium in Nakhodka only dimly aware of where he was. The journey had been arduous even in the well-sprung Anatra motor ambulance. The road had been heavily rutted.

The 'Mad Pole' was still at 'Vostok, ' it being too dangerous to move him at the time. Yvgeny, he recalled afterwards, had been informed the Pole would be joining him. He was too sick, however, for the information to sink in.

The sanatorium was situated on a high hill with views out across the Sea of Japan. It was well-staffed by doctors assisted by volunteer nurses organised through a Charity. Care was of a good standard, far higher than at the Navy's Hospital.

"My fever broke after three days," Gorshin explained to the young Ensign, "I was weak as a kitten for days... I just lay in my cot not thinking. They put me in this room with big windows so the sun bathed my face. I could smell the sea through the open window. I guess I was in some kind of shock."

"When did you become aware that Almaz, Bravy and the Grozny were the only ones to make it?" the Archivist asked.

"Not for at least a week. I think they deliberately kept the news from me. Strange, I didn't even think to ask."

"Why?"

"I was focussed on my personal survival. Thinking back, the gloom was palpable in that sanatorium. There were only a few Navy personnel there. Most were senior Army Officers who had been at Mukden, Jilan and other battles. Tch, I have to say that the Russian armed forces had been badly beaten on land and sea... everywhere. It was a hard time for us and everyone felt it."

"What of the Japanese army? They must have been close?"

"General Oyama was moving slowly. The Russian army had been shunted out of their positions and were in two halves. Some of it was in Northern Manchuria while a Division or two was covering Vladivostok from the West. But the Japs themselves were exhausted. We didn't know it at the time but their army wasn't in much better shape than ours."

Yvgeny learned that his expenses were being picked up by the powerful Khlodovsky family estate. The family's agent visited him and undertook to send telegrams back to Yvgeny's parents, and to Katka in Libau. It was a bonus as the military had priority over the single telegraph wire.

The nurses at the sanatorium had volunteered to make the arduous journey East to tend the sick and wounded. Many had little training or experience. Rather they responded out of a patriotic duty or a sense of adventure.

They came from all parts of Russia, but mostly from the European provinces, Ukraine, Byelorussia, Poland, Finland and the Baltic states. Most were ordinary middle class women, capable of embarking on careers but prevented by society's pressure from doing so. They either married or stayed at home, that was the choice in 1905. Another way out was to make the month-long journey across the expanse of Siberia to care for wounded soldiers.

The nurses weren't permitted to work in military hospitals, however. The medical staff either regarded them as foolish do-gooders or little better than whores. Some found employment in private facilities such as Nakhodka.

Yvgeny's doctors advised at least two weeks convalescence after his fever had broken. During his stay news of the fate of the fleet began to filter in.

"Let's see," sighed Admiral Gorshin, "Nebogatov surrendered the Nikolai, Senyavin and Apraxin just South of Takeshima Island. Togo stayed just out of range of his old guns so he'd little choice, although the public felt otherwise. The Ushakov had lagged behind and was bailed by the Fuji and Asahi. When asked to surrender her captain took a vote among the Officers and crew. The majority couldn't bear the humiliation so they opened fire. It sank after a 45 minute bombardment."

"The Svetlana held out for an hour and a half against three of Kamimura's cruisers. Barely able to steam, she fired away all her ammunition then opened her Kingston valves and scuttled herself. Izumrud ran onto rocks off the coast of Korea and was a total loss."

"Buiny's engines gave out and Rhozdventsky was transferred to Biedovy. They both surrendered at 1620 the day following the battle. Bezuprechny remained off Tsushima Island unable to raise full boiler pressure. She fought it out with Togo's Destroyers and sank, taking Commander Matusevich and his crew with her. Similarly Gromky refused to surrender and sank with all hands."

"We'd left the Navarin anchored in an inlet, no? They got her with floating mines."

"The last to go was the ancient Dimitri Donskoi. She made it as far as Takeshima where she was caught by Destroyers. Her Captain ran her onto a sand bar to prevent her from being torpedoed. There she fought it out for three days, sinking three of the enemy boats with her 210mm main guns. Eventually, with no help possible, she set charges after the crew walked ashore."

"Not since Trafalgar had a fleet been so utterly defeated. Russia had been the 3rd largest Naval power after Britain and France and now we'd been demoted down off the chart. Apart from a small squadron confined to the Black Sea, our Navy had ceased to exist. It was a catastrophe from which we didn't recover until after the War against Fascism. Then we used captured German technology to build submarines... bah," he spat.

"We built more ships," protested the Ensign.

"Oh, our next Battleship, the Andrej Pervozanni, was a good ship but by then the British, French and Germans were building Dreadnoughts. We'd been put out of the game almost for good. Our replies were too little and too late, the Ganguts, Imperatritsas and the new Borodino class Battlecruisers were poor replies, in my opinion, to the latest ships being built by other navies."

"Whose technology did we borrow to build those?" asked the Ensign, with a wry grin.

"Italian," Gorshin chuckled, "I think we'd had enough of French ideas by then."

1905 was a bad year for the Russian Monarchy and people. Besides the comprehensive military defeat by Japan, the cities of Western Russia were in turmoil.

There were food shortages caused by a poor grain harvest. The Winter had been particularly harsh adding further hardship. Many believed the shortage of bread was as a result of the Estate owners hoarding grain to ratchet the price. There was some truth to the rumour. It was, after all, an historic practice.

Cities like St Petersburg, Moscow, Kharkov and Kiev had a growing industrial working class. Russia's industrial revolution had been late and relied heavily on foreign investment, particularly French. Workers began agitating for change, fueled by a bewildering number of revolutionary political groups.

There had been hunger marches, the most famous being Father Gapon's march on the Winter Palace. Units of the Black Sea fleet had mutinied, the most notable being the 305mm gunned Battleship Kniaz Potemkin Tsechiarovski. Cossack Semi-Regular Cavalry units had been let loose on some of the protestors with entirely predictable bloody results. At St Peter's Steps in Odessa a crowd of men, women and children was ridden down by mounted cavalry.

Despite the hardships among the poor of the cities, Russia was still an immensely rich country. Beaten by the Japanese, she could still continue the war if she wanted to. With over three million men under arms, finding another army wouldn't have presented too big a difficulty. The problem was national morale and that was at a low ebb.

So when President Theodore Roosevelt of the United States offered to mediate between the two parties, the Russians readily accepted.

The Japanese dragged their feet for a while but eventually accepted. The talks were to be held at Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Victors on the battlefield, the Japanese were to face the full might of Russian diplomacy.

Japan had become impoverished by the war. She'd made significant military gains, occupying the whole of Korea, the Liaotung peninsula and most of Southern Manchuria. But what she most needed was gold to pay off her debts and that was what Sergei Witte and the other Russian negotiators were determined not to give them.

St Petersburg was pleased with the venue for the peace talks. The Russians had had cordial relations with America for some time and had even bought warships from US yards, such as the Battleship Retvizan.

The relationship between the US and the Empire of Japan was tense, however. US discrimination against Japanese immigrants and American nervousness over Japanese expansionism had created an uneasy atmosphere. Tokyo would have preferred to hold the talks in Britain. Clearly, considering the recent history of Anglo-Russian relations, that was a suggestion the Russians were never likely to agree to.

Sergei Witte was a long-serving Russian bureaucrat and a former Finance Minister. The agrarian and political reforms that had taken place under Tsar Nicholas had been mostly Witte's ideas. He was also one of the ablest negotiators of his time.

The Japanese, on the other hand, seemed to have been content just to show up. Their negotiators were elderly Aristocrats, such as Prince Ito, who were clearly out of their depth in International horse-trading. There was a perception in Japan that they'd been set-up by a combination of traditional European powers and the USA. A conclusion not wholly unjustified as it turned out later.

On the other hand, there was a feeling among the World's powers that raw aggression shouldn't go rewarded. Particularly if the aggressor Nation was a non-European one.

Japanese demands were extravagantly optimistic. An indemnity of 40 million roubles, the annexation of Korea and the Liaotung and a recognition of her 'special status' in Manchuria. Lastly, the possession of all her war booty, particularly the Russian warships captured or salvaged from Port Arthur.

What she got was: the transfer of the leases to Port Arthur and Dailan and recognition of her 'special status' in Korea, all faits acomplis in any case. Russia agreed to withdraw from Manchuria and Japanese companies were allowed to be established there. For the moment China was permitted to re-estabish control of her Northern provinces. The 'indemnity' was the annexation of Southern Sakhalin Island to the 50th parallel. Japan could keep her prizes but she would not get one Kopek out of the Russian treasury.

The frozen, mountainous, sparsely-populated Southern Sakhalin didn't seem like much compensation for the Japanese sacrifice and most of the public agreed. She didn't receive outright control of either Korea or Manchuria and this outraged Tokyo. Japan was to suffer a deep recession for the next 5 years or so. Prince Ito was later assassinated for his trouble.

Japan would possess Sakhalin for barely 40 years. In 1945, a Red Army Group consisting of 4 Mechanised Armies demolished the Japanese Manchurian Army in less than two weeks, precipitating the Anglo-American decision to drop the Atomic bomb. The Western Allies feared a Soviet occupation of Japan. The USSR then gained the Kurile Islands off Northern Japan as their compensation. What goes around, comes around.

Yvgeny Gorshin had to wait indefinitely at Nakhodka until transport was available West. The Russian army needed to be supplied and reinforced. Only essential traffic was permitted on the single-track Railway. The good news of sorts was that he was permitted to remain at Sanatorium until he was able to return home.

Peter Szpetznar's recovery was slow, but he was receiving the best of care. Yvgeny sat by his bedside and read the newspapers to him. Occasionally they would share a smuggled bottle of Vodka and dine on olives and caviar with black bread. The good life was beginning to restore their morale.

With Yvgeny's recovery came the restoration of his libido. Athough he'd sent a message to Katka, he'd not heard back and was beginning to wonder whether she still had feelings for him. The postal system, however, had almost completely broken down.

News of the Grozny's exploits were becoming common knowledge. In the midst of defeat people needed heroes and the deeds of the three little ships that made it home were widely discussed.

Peter Szpetznar was already on the receiving end of special attention from some of the nurses. His larger than life personality and talent for self-promotion attracted some of the more impressionable young ladies, and older ones. It wasn't long before the door to the 'Mad Pole's' room was firmly closed and muffled female giggles heard inside.

Yvgeny himself began to receive the attention of a young nurse from Turku in Southern Finland. She was dark-haired, short with a very womanly, well-rounded body. She spoke heavily-accented Russian with a bright and breezy smile.

Yulia was her name and she began to spend more and more time with the young Russian Sub-Lieutenant. He enjoyed the easy chat and company now that the Pole was elsewhere occupied.

Yulia worked the afternoon shift and would often stay on after her duties had finished. They began to discuss life and love. Yvgeny told her about Katka, she her marriage at a young age to a man 30 years her senior.

The young Yulia had married a family friend when she was barely 16 years old. He was a widower in his forties, his first wife had died of TB, and he owned a successful import/export business.

He showered the young Yulia with expensive gifts, was very kind and respectful towards her. Yulia's parents had been won over at an early stage in the courtship. The family had modest means and the match promised a considerable increase in the family's fortunes.

Despite the pressure, Yulia had wanted to marry her husband. He promised a life she'd only dreamed of, freedom from struggle, drudgery and poverty. And the prospect of travel and education outside of the insular Finnish town also excited her.

Their marriage was happy enough but also disappointed her. Girl fantasies of passion and intimacy remained unfulfilled. Her husband seemed cold and conservative to a vivacious young woman full of life and dreams. She volunteered for charity work with her husband's blessing when war broke out.

News of the military reverses in the East shocked and disturbed all corners of the Empire. Inured with a belief in Russian power, confusion turned to Imperial duty, she had to 'do her bit.' In actual fact, service in the East was also a way out of domestic boredom.

The East turned out to be nothing like what she expected. Instead of clean, white hospital wards full of dedicated Doctors and Staff, she found a Medical Service totally overwhelmed by the number of casualties. Snow thawed and turned to mud and slush. Flies and other insects, vermin including rats the size of rabbits seemed to appear as if by magic.

The medical staff were overworked and had eyes sunken into their sockets. Men came in filthy from the front line with open wounds of the most horrific kind. This had been an artillery war and had seen the use of new weapons such as the Maxim Machine Gun. Consequently tales of life in the trenches for the poor infantry had appalled her.

Yvgeny Gorshin seemed like a breath of fresh air. He was only a few years older than her, tall and good-looking. He told her tales of the sea and experiences in foreign lands that seemed exotic and exciting.

One day, Yvegny discovered it was Yulia's birthday. He decided such an occasion shouldn't go uncelebrated so he acquired some vodka from the Pole and a fruitcake from the Khlodovsky's agent.

She had been surprised and delighted. Some of the other nurses and patients, as well as the Pole, had crowded into Yvgeny's little room for a party. There were hugs and kisses all round, but Yvgeny's clasp and brief kiss were particularly special. She realised she wanted more.

As the party wore on, the guests became more affected by the alcohol. Peter began to get 'friendly' with a nurse in the corner. Her hushed giggling drew the attention of Yulia.

"I think they're having an affair," she told Yvgeny, conspiratorially.

"I don't doubt," he replied, "Peter is very popular with the ladies."

Yulia looked flushed. She half-reclined on Yvgeny's bed propped by several large pillows.

"I guess he's okay," she told him, "a bit full of himself for my taste."

"Yes," Yvgeny agreed, "he gives one that impression. Actually, I think he needs the attention. Underneath I believe he's quite insecure."

"Oh?"

"He has to have an admiring crowd about him. On his own he's quite the different person. He becomes introspective and sullen... goes to Church."

"He does?" Yulia asked in surprise.

"Frightened... like we all were. I think Peter compensates with a mixture of God and sex, a very complex person."

"I wonder whether he'll go to Heaven or Hell," she laughed.

"Peter has a bet each way. Whichever, I'd imagine he'd miss purgatory. When he goes he'll follow the direct route."

"You're funny," she gushed.

Peter and the nurse were becoming more amorous. Yulia was fascinated as she peered at them through the corner of her eye. As they kissed, she thought, it was obvious their tongues were playing. The nurse's giggling had ceased. She was now far more serious.

Yulia averted her eyes when she saw Peter's hand shamelessly groping the girl's chest. It wasn't long before the pair quickly said their goodbyes and slipped out of the room for more privacy.

One by one the other guests stumbled and staggered out the door until there was only Yvgeny and Yulia left.

Her 'good sense' told her she should leave but she couldn't make her body move. Instead she lay across Yvgeny's bed, her eyes were closed but she was very much awake. Her body simmered with sexual desire.

Yvgeny stood staring out the window distractedly. Yulia watched him for a while, full of curiosity. His body was silhouetted against the setting sun. She appraised it for a moment. Not a hint of flabbiness but perhaps a little too lean. Probably the result of the hardships of the voyage and subsequent battle.