The author of the cleverly written article entitled “All about Commanders” writes as follows:
“The absence of initiative, the habit of always relying upon superiors, and only acting when ordered to from above, are characteristics of junior commanders which made the work of those at the head of the army more difficult. The value of the time element in war also was forgotten.”
The modern theorist in strategy, Blume, says: “Even the greatest genius in a supreme commander cannot replace independent action by individual leaders.”
Even during actual operations numerous newspaper articles appeared, well calculated to discredit the officers. They were represented as overbearing, rude, dishonourable drunkards. Indeed, one of the most gifted of our writers—Menshikoff—went very far in this respect, for he wrote of the “blunted sense of duty, intemperance, moral laxity, and inveterate laziness” of a large body of men who never spared their lives and performed their duty almost religiously. In a diatribe against military life by M. Kuprin, called “The Duel,” private soldiers were represented as being treated with the greatest cruelty, and it was implied that it was the custom for our officers to slap and beat their men on company parades. The writer concluded by saying that the time would come when the officers would be caught and beaten in byways, when women would deride them, and soldiers refuse to obey their orders. In the great family of officers—as in other classes—there are, of course, bad specimens, but no generalization can be made from this as to the class as a whole. If some officers were seen drunk on the lines of communications or at Harbin, it is not fair to jump to the conclusion that all officers got drunk. They should be judged after they have been seen in action, in the trenches, and on the line of march, not only, as they often were, by what happened in the rear. But it is much easier to sit in St. Petersburg or Harbin and hurl abuse than it is to watch matters at the front. I have alluded to the large proportion of killed and wounded amongst the officers, which shows that their gallantry has not grown less than it used to be, and they certainly looked after the welfare of the soldier in a way that was unprecedented. The men were fed, clothed, cheered up, and kept in good fettle. The junior officers were zealous, soon found their feet under new and strange conditions, and as they grew accustomed to the local topography, became good map-readers. The most severe critic must acknowledge that the standard of our officers, both staff and regimental, has been much raised since the Russo-Turkish War.
But, according to the opinion of these same observers, the private soldier has, on the contrary, deteriorated during these twenty-seven years, for, though a better man physically, he is morally a worse man than he used to be. As I have remarked, the men with the colours were quite reliable, but many of the reservists—especially the 2nd Category men—required much supervision both in action and out of it, the most difficult material to handle being that from the manufacturing centres and large towns. Soldiers nowadays require more looking after than they did formerly, when but few were literate. Up to the present, thank God, our officers still have a good hold upon the men, based on mutual respect; but great endeavours were made at the beginning of the war to undermine this.
Kirilloff and others have made a dead set against the behaviour of the officers of our General Staff in the late war, but the majority worked most unselfishly, and did good service commanding units or on the staff. A large number distinguished themselves by their professional zeal and gallantry, while some found a glorious death in action. At their head may be mentioned General Kondratenko, the hero of Port Arthur. Among the killed also were the gallant General Count Keller, Staff-Officers Zapolski, Naumenko, Jdanoff, Pekuti, Vasilieff, Mojeiko; and of those who died from wounds were Andreeiff and Yagodkin. Among the wounded were four divisional commanders—Lieutenant-Generals Rennenkampf and Kondratovitch, Major-Generals Laiming and Orloff; also Staff-Officers Markoff, Klembovski, Gutor, Rossiski, Gurko, Inevski, etc. Altogether, about twenty officers of the General Staff were killed and forty wounded. The hostile attitude of the Press towards the officers, the endeavour of divers persons to undermine their authority, the indifference of the intelligent classes in Russia to what was happening in Manchuria, and especially the anti-Government campaign, which was conducted with the object of creating a mutiny among the troops, was hardly calculated to raise the soldiers’ moral, or to encourage them to perform acts of heroism. There was no military spirit in the army.
The Rank and File.
The rank and file, like the officers, were of two classes: those serving with the colours, and the reservists. The former were in every respect good; they were steady in action, enduring and well trained; but the reservists were on a much lower plane altogether. In the first place, the older men were unable to stand the arduous conditions of field service, coupled with the rigours of the Manchurian climate. They suffered greatly from sunstroke and heart affections when marching among the hills, and during the hot weather. At the battles of Ta-shih-chiao, Hai-cheng, and Liao-yang, these men fell out in such numbers that their units became quite immobile, and absolutely useless for any offensive operations. Moreover, the 2nd Category reservists did not know the rifle, and had forgotten everything they had once learnt when with the colours, and it required real hard work to instruct and train them up to the level of the serving soldiers. I have mentioned their unsteadiness. Units which were almost entirely composed of these men—that is to say, those units which had been formed by expanding the reserve regiments—were very unsatisfactory: it was almost impossible to get them into action. The regiments of the 4th Siberian Corps, which did so splendidly at Ta-shih-chiao, Hai-cheng, and Liao-yang, were an exception; they were composed entirely of Siberian reservists, who, though surly fellows and poor marchers, were men of character and very steady in action. The drafts composed of young soldiers were magnificent. Most of them had only just done their recruits’ course, were single men, and possessed both staying power and activity, and, being regular soldiers, were accustomed to field-service conditions. Unfortunately, it was only after the battle of Mukden that these drafts began to arrive. But these young soldiers who did so well in small actions would have done still better in a decisive engagement.
The general feeling of discontent which already prevailed in all classes of our population made the war so hateful that it aroused no patriotism whatever. Many good officers hastened to offer their services—which was only natural—though all ranks of society remained indifferent. A few hundreds of the common people volunteered, but no eagerness to enter the army was shown by the sons of our high dignitaries, of our merchants, or of our scientific men. Out of the tens of thousands of students who were then living in idleness,[24] many of them at the expense of the Empire, only a handful volunteered,[25] while at that very time, in Japan, sons of the most distinguished citizens—even boys fourteen and fifteen years of age—were striving for places in the ranks. Japanese mothers, as I have already said, killed themselves through shame when their sons were found to be physically unfit for military service. The indifference of Russia to the bloody struggle which her sons were carrying on—for little-understood objects, and in a foreign land—could not fail to discourage even the best soldiers. Men are not inspired to deeds of heroism by such an attitude towards them on the part of their country. But Russia was not merely indifferent. Leaders of the revolutionary party strove, with extraordinary energy, to multiply our chances of failure, hoping thus to facilitate the attainment of their own unworthy ends. There appeared a whole literature of clandestine publications, intended to lessen the confidence of officers in their superiors, to shake the trust of soldiers in their officers, and to undermine the faith of the whole army in the Government. In an “Address to the Officers of the Russian Army,” published and widely circulated by the Social Revolutionists, the main idea was expressed as follows:
“The worst and most dangerous enemy of the Russian people—in fact, its only enemy—is the present Government. It is this Government that is carrying on the war with Japan, and you are fighting under its banners in an unjust cause. Every victory that you win threatens Russia with the calamity involved in the maintenance of what the Government calls ‘order,’ and every defeat that you suffer brings nearer the hour of deliverance. Is it surprising, therefore, that Russians rejoice when your adversary is victorious?”