Chapter 3

Rhykov and Sergei strode casually up to the cluster of small hovels. White troopers paid them no mind as they watered their horses and checked their gear. Some lay sprawled on the ground, basking in an unusually hot day for this time of year.

Nearby, and completely ignored, were some of the former inhabitants of this farming community. They'd been shot and their bodies dragged out of the way and left in the hot sun. Rhykov felt nothing. He knew Tukhachevsky's 8th Red Army was doing the same thing in the Don Cossack lands. It was a fact in this type of warfare, retribution and counter-retribution. It was dirty, but he could do little about it. He preferred to devote his mind to the living than waste tears on the dead.

A guard approached them. Like them all, he wore a white band around his peaked cap as a 'field sign.' It was important, when both sides wore similar uniforms.

"Advance and be recognised."

He was such a boy, Rhykov thought, typical. They get the youngest and stupidest to do the most boring duty. "Captain Andropov, soldier, to see Sub-Colonel Afansiev of the 25th Brigade?"

"This is the 6th Cavalry, Captain, sir. The 25th is over on the other side of the road."

"Oh, I see. And they would be part of the advance Corps?"

"No, sir. The 25th is digging in once they reach the river. The advance Corps is occupying Orel."

"Ah! Thank you." 'It was too easy, ' he thought, 'like shooting ducks in a barrel.'

The two men hastened back the way they came until they were out of sight.

"So, it's Orel. They're not turning?" Sergei said.

"No, so it would appear. We'd better get back to our lines. Headquarters will want this information."

Meanwhile, from the 13th of October, 1919, Red soldiers began crossing to the North bank of the Oka and its tributary, the Seym. Units of the 14th Army were digging in to nervously wait for the White assault they felt sure was coming.

Deniken's advance corps stormed into Orel on the shirttails of retreating Red forces. The defenders were low on ammunition, but nevertheless, it was a bitter hand to hand struggle. In the afternoon, Ovseenko pulled the rest of the Orel troops out as they were exhausted and had suffered heavy casualties.

His 8th Infantry Division deployed across the road to the North of Orel while to the West, from down the Bryansk road, came the first of the Moscow Divisions, the 3rd Cavalry.

Kamenev's 14th Army also began to deploy, coming down from the direction of Bryansk via the railway, which linked up with the Orel line South of the town.

At the same time, on Deniken's Right flank, seven Red Army Divisions from Tukhachevsky's army began assaulting Voronezh. They were initially repulsed with heavy losses but the writing must have surely been on the wall for the Volunteer Army.

Deniken held back three of his infantry Divisions at a place called Zmiyeva on the railway South, as well as probably the best unit in his Army, the Kadet Guards, nicknamed 'the Eagles.' Ironically, the name for 'eagle' in Russian is 'orel.' 'Kadets' were not trainee Officers in this case, but the name of a centrist, Democratic party who formed their own militias and sided with the anti-Bolshevik movement.

To further confuse, the 'Kadets' had a strong base among the Officer Corps of the old Tsarist Army and many of the 'Eagles' had been serving Officers in some of the Tsar's top regiments.

The core of Deniken's infantry was the 'White Guards Corps, ' so-named as a jibe at the 'Red Guards.' They had taken a battering over the previous Month. This unit had repelled a determined amphibious assault by Red Army Forces against the Crimean peninsular. Following that, they'd undergone an almost continuous series of attacks as they made their way North from the Ukraine. These Red attacks were inexpertly coordinated by one Bolshevik General Krasov, whom Trotsky later sacked for incompetence.

Soviet historians frequently exaggerated the size of the White Volunteer Army, no doubt to enhance the reputations of the Red Generals. Later, Josef Stalin was placed as the architect of the victory, although there's little contemporary record of him ever having the least bit to do with it. However, when the Volunteer Army set out from the Ukraine it probably had a little less than 100,000 soldiers.

That number, though, fell to less than 80,000 by the time it reached Orel. Desertion, casualties, exhaustion, and the need to garrison certain towns in a hostile countryside, sapped a great deal of its strength. Deniken had a preponderance of cavalry, who became a liability as Red firepower increased the further they got into Bolshevik territory. By the time they arrived at Orel, too, they were running low on ammunition, particularly shells for the artillery.

There is little doubt, though, that Deniken was continually outnumbered by his opponents the moment he set foot in Russia. Krasov's Army numbered around 120,000 and Tukhachevsky's couldn't have been much less. Above Orel, Kamenev and Ovseenko mustered around a quarter of a million soldiers bolstered by an uncertain number of independent Brigades sent down from the Moscow region. The lowest of estimates, therefore, put the Red Forces as at least 500,000 with more becoming available once Iudenich was disposed of in the Baltic States.

"What in the name of the seven Saints are those things, Sergei?" Rhykov asked. He'd seen automobiles before, but nothing like these.

There were four of them. Instead of wheels, they ran on tracks and atop their armoured, box-like body, there was a revolving turret with a heavy machine gun. Rhykov had come across the first tank he'd ever seen, a British-built Whippet, and he didn't know what to make of it.

Sergei was open-mouthed in shock. To someone who hadn't seen one before, a tank was awe inspiring. Both men immediately saw the offensive potential of these armoured wagons and imagined dozens of them leading infantry into the attack. What they couldn't know was that these four tanks were all the armour Deniken possessed, unless one counted the six Rolls-Royces of a British Armoured car squadron operating in the Don region.

However, already Rhykov was figuring out how to disable them. They were closely guarded, it would be difficult.

On the Don, General Tukhachevsky also saw the shock effect of even a squadron of armoured vehicles. It is possible this future creator of the Red Army's Armoured Brigades was already thinking to himself.

Meanwhile, the two spies lounged a little way away from the tanks sharing the last of their precious tobacco and conspiring. After awhile, an officer approached them. He wore thick goggles around his peaked cap.

"You boys look like you've never seen one of these before?" he said, in rough Russian with a distinctive French accent.

"Nope," Rhykov answered, "just arrived."

"Shoulda seen the Bolshies scatter when these came along," he chuckled, "ran away, shitting their pants." Rhykov agreed he was sorry he missed it. "I'm Captain Duchesney of the French Expeditionary Force," he continued, "these are my pets." Rhykov noted the man was proud of his unit, as indeed, a good soldier should.

"Andropov, Captain, 1st Guards," Rhykov told the man, "and this is my Sergeant, Mryeshishev." Sergei scowled briefly at his chief, having been 'demoted' a couple of grades. "Could we take a look?"

The Frenchman shook his head. "I'm sorry, no-one goes near them but my crews. We are the only ones with the skill and knowledge to operate them," he boasted, "no-one else in the Volunteer Army has the least idea how to drive them."

"That right?" replied Rhykov thinking, "perhaps you and your boys might care to have a drink with us? Your pets are under guard, they are safe enough for half an hour. I have some good Bordeaux back in my tent?"

"Bordeaux?" the Officer said, licking his lips, "perhaps just for a little while?"

"Of course," smiled Rhykov, oozing charm. Beside him, Sergei was grinning evilly.

Meanwhile, the three Red Armies deployed against the Volunteer Army/Army of the Don were grouped administratively as the 'South Front, ' headquartered at modern day Serpukhov. Tukhachevsky was Kommissar, although he rarely appeared at his headquarters. The Kommissar was busy urging his Divisions against Voronezh.

Kommissar for War, Leon Trotsky, arrived about the 20th of October in his armoured train. He brought with him a Brigade of Cavalry from General Budennyy's Petrograd Corps, all he could spare at the moment. With some of these horsemen he briefly toured the frontline before hastening back to the campaign against Iudenich in Estonia. He, apparently, was satisfied that the South Front would hold.

Indeed, the Red South Front had more than enough troops. What it lacked, however, was adequate supplies of ammunition, a common complaint in the first half of the Russian Civil War. Because of this, Tukhachevsky felt the 13th and 14th Army were not capable of a sustained offensive against Deniken. He ordered them to dig in and hold, while he diverted surplus Brigades South to his Army against Voronezh. Likewise, all available ammunition was sent to the 8th Army. Tukhachevsky believed that the seizure of Voronezh must compel the Volunteer Army to retreat.

The Whites, too, were in no shape to force the Oka or move against Ovseenko North of Orel. Instead, they waited for salvation from elsewhere. From the 18th to the 21st, Iudenich launched his campaign against Petrograd, in concert with British Royal Navy attacks against the Red Baltic Fleet based at Khronstadt Naval Base. The heavy guns of the Russian Battleships made an assault on Petrograd problematic. Wrangel and Deniken hoped the success of this operation would compel the Red Armies facing them to withdraw to protect Moscow. Similarly, they were confident Voronezh would hold and bleed Tukhachevsky white. (My pun. Author)

When Rhykov and Sergei finally arrived at their own lines, they found the Corps had a new interim Komcor. When Rhykov found Olga Berezkokova, she was sitting atop a horse, wearing one of his uniform jackets five sizes too large, and surrounded by 'her Kombats.' He stood for awhile, amused. Part of him didn't want to interfere. She was in her element, he thought, at least as efficient a Komcor as he.

Inadvertantly, he had deputized her when he'd gone off spying. Rhykov only intended that she report back to Ovseenko her observations, but he'd gone so long that she'd wound up running the Corps. His men looked for someone to lead them, and had assumed Olga was now Komcor.

The Red Army was such a new creation, as was the Bolshevik State, that all traditional ideas seemed up for revision. 'Why can't a young woman that shows talent lead men into battle?' It would be another year before traditional military roles and chains of command would reassert themselves.

It wouldn't be until 1935, however, before 'positional ranks' were disposed of and a return to traditional Officer grades and ranks reinstated. For a time, the 'proto-Red Army, ' the RKKA (Worker's and Peasant's Army) elected their own commanders. However, in late 1918, Trotsky put a stop to the practice. In 1942 the 'Red Army' officially ceased to exist, it would be called the 'Soviet Army, ' until dissolving, with the Soviet Union, in 1994.

"Olga!" Rhykov called, "in my tent, now!"

Oleg, Sergei and Rhykov talked exhaustively into the night, as she went over every detail of the retreat over the river and the Corps' subsequent deployment on the North bank. She asked him searching questions about 'the other side, ' but he was reluctant to share too much specific detail. As the evening wore on, Rhykov produced a bottle of Vodka, he said, was 'a prize of war.'

However, while the Komcor was out relieving himself, Sergei, now a little drunk, revealed a side of his boss Olga had never seen.

"Such a thief!" he told her, in wonder, "I have never seen the like of it. He got himself a tent near one of their camps, which he used to store the booty. He is quite brazen, moves about among them like one of their own. I tell you," he pointed, "he could steal the gold fillings out of Deniken's teeth without him knowing... this I know as a fact!" he laughed.

"Tell me more?" urged Olga, excited.

"He stole a case of wine," Sergei continued, "he tell the Frenchmen it's Bordeaux, but Rhykov, he wouldn't know one wine from another."

"What?" asked Olga, "what Frenchmen?"

"Tank crews, a dozen of them plus their commander. 13, it's an unlucky number, don't you agree?"

"Yes, yes, what about the Frenchmen?" Just then, Rhykov returned and eyed the pair suspiciously. "What this about 13 Frenchmen, Rhykov?" she asked him. He shrugged, glared at Sergei, but she persisted.

"Is nothing," he told her, "Deniken has some tanks, but I don't think he'll be able to use them."

"Why not?"

"They cannot swim the river and they seemed to have misplaced the drivers," he answered, ruefully, "absent-minded of them, don't you think?"

Sergei, however, didn't hold his drink as effectively as Rhykov. "I tell him," he laughed, waving his finger in Rhykov's direction, "I tell him, I'm not sure if I set the fuse at 10 seconds or 8."

"Sergei, shut up!" Rhykov, snapped.

"No, go on!" continued Olga.