Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. RHYKOV (Part 2) By KATZMAREK (C) -------------------------------------------------- AUTHOR'S NOTE. Some of the events and personalities in this story are real, other's aren't. Please don't Email to tell me that X was with Y in Z and not in Q. This work is Fiction. As always, it remains my property and may not be reproduced for profit without my express permission in writing. -------------------------------------------------- It was late, after midnight, and Rhykov still sat at his desk going over his supply problems. The rest of his staff had found places to sleep and only Olga, trying to get the erratic phone network working, remained on duty. "It's dead," she announced, going into her boss and stretching, "I'm tired." "Fuck!" Rhykov muttered, "get some sleep, I'll try myself, later." "They say the lines are down, maybe the snow or sabotage?" "This will always happen. We must set up a messenger system, with way points where they can change horses. A Corps of Signals, perhaps, and rope in some telephone engineers to repair the wire. Perhaps we could then base crews at these points, here and here..." "Rhykov, you need to rest, you overwork yourself." "I'm used to it." "Rhykov?" she said, her voice changing subtly, "where are you going to sleep?" He shrugged, "I have a fire in the other room. I found some coal, perhaps you'd..." "But where would you sleep?" "We could share?" she said. "That wouldn't be proper," Rhykov replied, "I will doss down in the corner here, or at my desk." "Proper?" Olga said, raising her eyebrows, "Nestor Machno said that's a very bourgeois way of thinking. He said that men and women should be free to choose who they want, unencumbered by property considerations and..." "He would," Rhykov muttered. "What do you mean by that?" "It sounds, Olga dear, like Nestor Machno knows all the tricks in the book to get women into his bed, besides paying for it like an honest man." "You think an honest man pays?" she asked, a hint of emotion in her tone. "One way or the other. Either he pays with good coin, or he gives away his heart and soul. The result is always the same, he's left only with spare change." Olga fell silent, thinking. After a long pause, she walked up beside Rhykov at his desk. "Something else?" he asked her. "You have no room in your heart for love?" "Olga... I can't give what I don't have." He looked upwards at her face. Her brown eyes stared fixedly at his. "Nestor didn't love me either," her voice was stricken with emotion, her eyes moistening, "he just wanted to... pull down my pants when he wanted sex." "Did he now? I'm sorry, Olga, it is sad but there're always some men who'll always take advantage of the innocent and inexperienced. They'll..." "Oh, I wanted him to, Rhykov, he was always gentle with me. He made me feel special." "Then he'd be off screwing someone else, Olga? Does that seem like he thought you were special? Or convenient?" "I don't know," she replied, tears streaking her cheek. "You're different," she sobbed, "you treat me as an equal, with dignity. You don't force yourself... for... your own amusement." "I don't stand on snails and I don't rape the innocent." "It wouldn't be rape," she said, hastily. "It would as far as I'm concerned. You are too young to know your own mind... no... hear me out. You are a very attractive girl, bright, intelligent, creative, and you flatter me that someone such as you would want to sleep with me. But you need to fall in love with someone nearer your own age, someone who has the love you seek aplenty to keep you warm during the Winter. I was born in destitution as a slave to my adoptive family. My heart was ripped out from an early age and all I have now is an instinct for survival, mine. The army taught me duty and comradeship, not love, and my survival depends on that. You are a comrade, Olga, and as such you are as near to me as it's possible. I would fight for you, stand by you on the field of battle. I will always come back for you if you're captured by the enemy, the same as I would for anyone of my unit. But don't ask me to be your lover. It would be like me fucking Sergei or one of the others." "You fuck men?" she asked, aghast. He looked up and found she had a smile on her face, through the tears. Rhykov chuckled, "not if there's sheep in the paddock." The next morning, Rhykov awoke with a start. He was slumped in a corner of his office with a heavy greatcoat over him. Near his ear he could feel the warm caress of someone's breath. Olga had squeezed in next to him against the wall and lay fast asleep against his back. Sighing, Rhykov, unsuccessfully, tried to dismiss from his mind the sensation of her two rubbery breasts underneath her loose uniform shirt. --------------------------------------------------- In January 1918 Leon Trotsky and the peace delegates at Brest-Litovsk had broken off negotiations with the Central powers. Their demands for territory and reparations had been too extravagant and Trotsky had declared, 'no peace, no war.' That this was a bizarre and confusing position to take was obvious to everyone, but then, the Bolsheviks believed they were on the verge of a World Revolution. In that context, they were certain the 'International Proletariat' would be inspired by their stand and rebel against their bourgeois governments. The German proletariat, however, remained loyal to their Kaiser for the present and the German army failed to mutiny. Instead, they ground steadily on, into the Ukraine and the Russian Baltic States. On February the 18th, Trotsky signed the Treaty on behalf of the Bolshevik Government in Moscow. The deal granted Germany and Austria control of the Ukraine and the Black Sea ports of Odessa and Sevastopol. The White Forces withdrew in the face of this professional army to the Don region. Likewise, the Machnovistas retreated back to the Carpathians. On the other hand, the Nationalists of the Ukrainian Rada thrived under German patronage and declared independence, 'in partnership with the German Kaiser.' The Kiev Soviet and the Ukrainian Red Guard units prepared to withdraw over the border into Russia. Komdiv Rhykov's orders were to proceed to Orel, some 800 kilometres away, to cover the Southern approaches to Moscow. Orel, in the Central Russian Highlands, the 'Sredne Russkaya Vozvyshennost,' was a good place to draw a defence line and Rhykov had no quibble with Sovnarkom. It was on the railway, had good lines of retreat and advance, and could be supplied easily from the Centre. Most of all, it had plenty of high ground and a river line, the Oka. Strong positions around Orel could not be ignored or bypassed without risking all-important lines of supply. The Kiev Division was to be under the authority of General Tukhachevsky, however, that General had more important fish to fry at the moment. In the meantime, Rhykov answered to none other than his friend, Ukrainian Kommissar Vladimir Antonov-Ovseenko. True to his word, Olga was pleased that Rhykov transported as many of the landless peasants as he could to the border. He even provided them with grain, in violation of his orders, although that grain had been stolen from them in the first place. She knew he would, she felt she had the measure of the man. The Division left the Ukrainian Soviet at Belgorod, so they could continue as a 'Soviet in exile.' The Soviet promptly sent back cadres into Ukraine to 'educate the masses' and prepare the way for their return. They even managed to establish contacts with the Machnovistas and several of their representatives were co-opted onto the Soviet as 'associate delegates.' In future, the Red Army and the Black Guard would be working together against 'the common bourgeois enemy.' It took the Kiev Division over a week to get to Orel. Snow storms and drifts, breakdowns and lack of good quality coal for the locomotives caused frequent delays. Red Guardsmen finally hacked down nearly a whole forest and crammed the wood into every crevice on the trains. Thus wood-fired, the trains arrived in Orel spitting showers of sparks with the locomotives blackened with soot. Orel had been founded in the 16th century by Ivan the IVth as a fortress against the Tartars. It was arranged like a citadel, with roads leading out from the old fort in radii fashion. In 1917 it was an important railway junction and commanded all points, North, South, East and West. Most of the 80,000 population had stayed at the outbreak of the Revolution. As an important town, the Orel Soviet had already laid out defence positions centred on the old fort. That fort had been reinforced with modern artillery and local Red forces had sandbagged and bolstered the old defences with barricades. Other Red Guard Divisions had already arrived when the long trains carrying the Kiev Division arrived. Nearly 30,000 troops were quartered in the city and surrounding countryside. Komdiv Rhykov was immediately called to a conference by Ovseenko, who had overall control, together with the other senior officers. "Comrades," he announced, "the defence of the Revolution is in our hands..." Rhykov sensed he was about to be bored to tears and patiently waited to be told where to dispose his Division. "Training!" shouted Ovseenko. Rhykov was shaken awake. "You must train your men hard..." "They are trained," Rhykov protested, "most of my men are experienced soldiers! Give us something to do and an enemy to fight!" "Of course, Comrade Rhykov," Ovseenko smiled indulgently, "we are all aware of the excellence of your Division, equal, if I may say, to our fine Latvian comrades." There was a faint murmur of agreement, "but many of our soldiers," he continued, "have not had the benefit of your leadership and experience..." Rhykov sensed he was being made a fool of and bristled. "Perhaps, therefore, you might consider taking charge of the Corps?" Rhykov subsided, the wind well and truly taken out of his sails. ------------------------------------------ "The Corps?" Olga bounced excitedly upon hearing the news, "you are to take on the whole Corps?" "Now hold on," Rhykov pleaded, "you should see the bunch they're giving me..." "Yes, but you'll soon lick them into shape." "I wish I had your confidence," he muttered, "half of them don't even have rifles and I doubt not more than three out of five know their left foot from their right. Where the fuck do I start?" "From the beginning," Olga replied, "make them feel like soldiers. You know how to do it. I've seen the way the Kievans look up to you. You give them confidence." "Well, maybe," he said in that self-effacing way that always appealed to Olga, "but we had a core of trained Guardsmen that were able to pass on their knowledge to the recruits. This lot will need to learn how to march, deploy, fire a rifle..." "So, who taught you?" "Army instructors, the best there were." "So, you have a Division of instructors, haven't you? The Kiev Division!" "Sure, but will Ovseenko allow me to use them?" "Ask him, he'll do anything you ask. Don't you know?" "Know what?" "That Vladimir Antonov-Ovseenko worships the ground you walk on." "What? Me? Why?" Rhykov said, aghast. "Because, Komcor Rhykov, Ovseenko is not a very good soldier. Don't you see how he asks your advice, in subtle ways so you don't notice? Then he hands back your own words as your orders as if they came from him. Don't you see that?" "He does? You sure?" "Of course I'm sure. Ask any of your men? Who would they follow into battle, Antonov-Ovseenko or Rhykov? Ask them?" "Well, I suppose..." Rhykov wasn't sure whether he believed the girl. Nevertheless he decided to ask Ovseenko if he could use the Kiev Division as instructors for his Corps. The Kommissar readily agreed and that afternoon the orders arrived. When he returned to his headquarters he tried to avoid Olga's smug expression. She didn't even ask what the decision had been, she knew already. ------------------------------------------------- In the months that followed, the Whites of the Volunteer Army consolidated their hold on the Don Region. Alexiev had fallen ill and had been replaced by General Kornilov. He, in turn, would be replaced by Deniken after Kornilov died of his wounds following a skirmish. It would be some months, towards the end of the year in fact, before they'd display any aggression. Meanwhile, they contented themselves with routing out alleged Bolsheviks throughout the territory under their control. This included the Jewish population, hounded out of their homes and massacred in one of the worse progroms for 100 years. Apologists would later claim that this wasn't perpetrated with the knowledge of Deniken. How he failed to notice this happening under his very nose is hard to believe, yet he refused to intervene. But in Ufa, in the Western Urals, a conference of Anti-Bolshevik forces had resulted in a fight. One group, that led by Admiral Kolchak, had arrested the other, the Socialist Revolutionaries, and later executed them. He then formed an uneasy alliance with the Czech Legion disposed along, and in possession of, the Trans-Siberian Railway. But that alliance was toxic from the start and they'd eventually fall out altogether. The disposal of Kolchak's Socialist allies had two political reasons. Kolchak was an arch-conservative, championing a return of the Romanov dynasty to the throne of Russia, no doubt with Kolchak as Chief Minister. Perhaps of more importance was the news that the Socialist Revolutionaries had captured the Tsarist gold reserves at Kazan. The money would provide a lot of guns and ammo and was delivered over to British agents for 'safe keeping.' British possession of Russia's treasury would provide a great deal of leverage to Westminster in the coming years and cause huge financial problems for the Soviet Government as they tried to set about rebuilding and reorganising Russia following the Civil War. An eighth of the gold fell into the hands of the Czech Legion who later carried it back to the new Czecho-Slovakia. This formed the reserves of the 'Legion Bank,' that kick started the new country's economy. Meanwhile, the fledgling Red Army would have all of six months respite to consolidate, train, and build its strength before facing any serious challenge. ---------------------------------------------- The horseman wore a royal blue 'pellese' short jacket of the Imperial Dragoon Guards. His brass helmet was covered in a khaki cloth and through it was a plume of horsehair, bleached white. The white cavalry trousers were tucked into his high boots and featured the broad red stripe of the Guards. He pulled up his horse and listened carefully, looking around. Everything was strangely quiet, there was menace in the air, he could smell it. Rhykov felt encumbered by the outfit, more fitting for the parade ground, he thought, than combat. He noticed a group of peasants in the field nearby. This area was solidly Bolshevik and he began to feel uncomfortable. Normally, they'd have made themselves scarce and he wondered why they stood like that, in the open. Rhykov dismounted to reduce his profile. Any one of those peasants would have a good, clean shot at him. He walked slowly into the field raising his arms as if he was surrendering. "Hey!" he yelled, "I need to speak to you!" The peasants, however, scattered at his approach. "Fuck!" he muttered. Suddenly, from among the waving corn, a dozen riflemen suddenly stood. They wore khaki, faded in various stages into dirty brown colours. On their caps they wore the red star. One was a girl of about 18. She was grinning broadly, "surprise!" she yelled. "For fuck's sake," Rhykov cried, "you trying to give me heart failure?" "Come," another of the riflemen said, "let's get to shelter. You're giving us all a bad name in that clown's outfit." Later, they all crowded into the small peasants' home munching black bread. Rhykov had changed into his Red Army uniform and he gathered them all tightly around the table so they all could see the maps he'd made. "This is Orel," he said, "and here, the railway West to Bryansk. Deniken's right flank is on the west bank of the Don by Voronezh. Krasnov's Cossacks are strung out between here and here, near Yelets. Deniken's main force appears to be following the railway directly to Orel with his left somewhere near the Oka river Northwest of Kursk." He noticed Olga studying the map carefully. 'She is a born General,' he thought, 'if only she was a man.' "You telling us you got as far as Voronezh in two days?" she asked. "There was no need," he smiled, "I just asked one of their officers. He was very talkative. Olga, I need you to take a couple of men and ride to Bryansk, to 14th Army headquarters, with this information. I will destroy the maps so you must remember every detail." She nodded. "Sergei, you will go to Ovseenko at 13th Army. He's at Mtsensk, North of Orel." "Yes, Komcor." "Tukhachevsky?" asked Olga. "He's on the East bank of the Don with the 8th, somewhere near Lipetsk. There's 80,000 Whites in the way so I suggest we let Kamenev or Ovseenko reach him. I'd imagine his Cavalry would be in contact along the Don in any case." "So?" said Olga, "what impression did you get of the state of them?" "As you'd expect," Rhykov answered, sucking in his breath, "they've been skirmishing with the rearguard since leaving Kiev. They're tired, short of supplies and they're moving through an unsympathetic countryside. The Cossacks want to go home, particularly now Tukhachevsky's operating East of the Don. This is not their territory and they're aware of it." "In that case, they'll need to rest and rearm before they move beyond Orel." "Undoubtedly, but there's nothing to scavenge in Orel save the road North. They'll need to reach Tula..." "Our arms factories?" "Yes, where the bulk of the Red Armies' munitions come from. If Deniken takes Tula there's nothing to stop him marching on Moscow." "So, where are you going, now?" "I'll take the rest of the Division and we'll go hunting South of the Oka. If all goes according to plan we should be joined by some of the boys from 13th Army." "And if it doesn't go to plan?" "Then we'll be fighting Deniken's 1st White Guards Corps on our own." "With 3000 rifles?" "Bayonets, my dear, for we have no ammunition." "Rhykov, don't be a fool. Fall back on Bryansk!" "Oh, we can get some more bullets. This is not such a great problem. The Whites have wagons of them." "Rhykov, what are you planning?" Olga asked, suspiciously. "The thing is with secrets, my dear, is not to share them too widely!" he grinned. ------------------------------------------------ It was now October 1919 and the Revolution was two years old. Short of the European-wide revolt Lenin and Trotsky felt certain the Russian Revolution would inspire, the new USSR was almost completely isolated. Japanese, American, British and French contingents of troops were involved with the Anti-Bolshevik forces, determined, it seemed, to snuff out the Revolution. In Britain, Winston Churchill talked of 'strangling the Bolsheviks at their roots.' In the South, French troops supplied and assisted the Volunteer Army. British Forces were active in the North, down the river Dvina and in the Caspian. American and Japanese forces were based at Vladivostok in the Far East and helped various rebel factions in Siberia. Kommissar Antonov-Ovseenko, with Rhykov's Kiev Division, had stormed into the Ukraine following the withdrawal of Austro-German armies in the wake of the Great War's Armistice. This force routed the 'Greens,' the Ukrainian Nationalist Rada forces, now deserted by their German sponsors. Kiev was siezed back for the Bolshevik cause in alliance, now, with the Socialist Revolutionaries and Nestor Machno's 'Black Guard.' However, in June 1919, the giant three-pronged attack by the White armies saw Ukraine siezed back, Kolchak in Siberia advancing once more to link up with British-supported General Miller on the Dvina river and Iudenich in Latvia moving on, and siezing Riga. As the Summer moved on to Autumn, though, Bolshvik General Tukhachevsky drove Kolchak steadily back until his army began to disintegrate. Kolchak's allies, the Czechs, then deserted him, leaving the Admiral to be executed by his former allies, the Socialist Revolutionaries. Elsewhere, the Counter-Revolution was falling apart amid ethnic and Nationalist jealousies, in the Far and Near East and the Trans-Caucasus. Bolshevik diplomacy came to the fore, successfully concluding a deal with the Finns and sowing seeds of dissension within the ranks of the opposition. Trotsky, above all, adhered to the dictum, 'it's better to have your enemy inside the tent pissing out than outside the tent pissing in.' But that left two great dangers for the present, Iudenich in the Baltic States and the White Volunteer Army of General Deniken from Southern Russia. Deniken's plan was to seize the Volga cities of Saratov and Volgograd and converge on Moscow from the Southeast. Meanwhile Baron Wrangel with Krasnov's Don Army would advance via Kursk, Voronezh, Orel and move on Moscow from the South. Volgograd was briefly taken, but Tukhachevsy's 8th Red Army, fresh from beating Kolchak, threw them out again, taking up positions along the Don basin. Baron Wrangel was one of the few White Generals who managed to get along with the prickly Cossack General Krasnov. Therefore, he took overall charge as a sort of Supreme Commander, leaving Deniken to get on with planning strategy. The alliance between the Don Cossacks and the Whites was fraught with difficulties, however, and the further they marched away from the Don, the harder it was to keep the alliance working together. -------------------------------------------------- The low steppe formed a wide parabola into the highlands below the river Oka. It had been a good harvest, however, much of the wheat, maize and millet rotted in the fields for a lack of manpower. Some of the fields of heavy soil had been plowed up leaving tall windrows, half a man in height. It was sticky underfoot and Deniken's infantry had a hard time of it. They struggled through these natural obstacles, picked at by squads of Ukrainian snipers of the Kiev Division. Rhykov's men provided a covering screen, slowing down the Whites to allow proper entrenchments to be formed on the North bank of the river. Over there, units of the 6th Cavalry and 26th Infantry Division furiously dug in to protect the Left flank of the 14th Red Army. Once more they were low on ammunition, having fired most of it away over the previous week. It had been a bitter fight, with little quarter offered or accepted on either side. Every field, every windrow and peasant's house had been fought over, often in close combat with the bayonet and hand grenade. Rhykov watched from the only high ground on the South side of the river as his men straggled back. Some carried others who were wounded. They all, however, looked tired, thirsty, and fed up with running away. Olga Berezkovkaya had found him there, after completing her mission to 14th Army Headquarters at Bryansk. "Can't stand this shit," he told her, "never could. I'm as useless as a dick on a hen." "No you're not. Imagine Ovseenko? Even Trotsky, himself? Imagine how they must be feeling? At least you can see what's happening." "That's why I never want to be a General. A Commander is only as good as his communications, and our's are hopeless. This is what we used to call a 'melee,' no proper front line, just a massive tavern brawl in a field. What we don't know, is whether this is just a feint. Are they turning, perhaps? Or are they moving straight on to Orel? If it's the former, then I'd imagine Kamenev will want to advance and threaten their supply lines." "What if they take Orel?" Olga asked, concerned. "Then Ovseenko can move down with the 14th from Bryansk. Either way, with Tukhachevsky and the 8th putting pressure on them from the East, I think they're in real trouble." "So why are you concerned?" "Because, with a bit of haste and enterprise, Deniken may move up the railway to Tula and cut off the Red Army's supplies and ammunition. Say, a sudden sorte by their cavalry, perhaps, maybe to the left or right of Mtsensk?" "Is that's what you would do in his place?" "I would. I would know that I'm shortly going to be outnumbered by 5 to 1. I'd need to move swiftly if I have any chance at all. Whether Deniken is capable of the move, I don't know. My guess is that his best Division, the White Guards, are played out for the present and will need to rest. Who know's what the Cossacks are capable of and whether Krasnov is on speaking terms with Deniken? Ovseenko will need to pull back to cover the Tula road if that is what he's planning." At that moment, Sergei, a member of Rhykov's staff, and a trusted man from the days of his service with the 2nd Foot Guards, arrived carrying bundles of uniforms. "Here's yours?" he said, "I had to let it out a bit because of your, your..." "Fat gut, Sergei? It is all muscle, I can assure you." "Rhykov?" said Olga in alarm, "what is this, what are you planning?" "A little adventure, Olga, nothing more." "Those are White Guards' uniforms," cried Olga, "you're going spying!" "Keep the signalmen busy, Olga, until I return. Make sure you report everything you observe to headquarters, I trust you." With that, he and Sergei jogged off carrying their bundles. Olga blinked back the tears, she wasn't sure whether she would see him again. ------------------------------------------- KATZMAREK (C)