Siberia To-Day

by Frederick Ferdinand Moore

I found Headquarters in Vladivostok seething with secret turmoil. It seems that the Staff resented the fact that fifteen Intelligence officers had been sent by the War Department for duty in Siberia. At least the Intelligence officers got that impression, and they claimed that everything was being done to discredit them, and upset the general plan of studying the Siberian situation in detail if for no other purpose than to watch the Intelligence machine work.

Although we did not know it, there had been some minor troubles before we arrived. By the time the Sheridan brought us, there had been one reorganization of the Siberian military policy, which was brought about by the arrival of General Graves, who put into play methods of procedure reflecting the administration policy of “non-interference.” This meant putting a stop to everything which called for any activity with the forces in Siberia, crushed any ambition held by officers of the Twenty-seventh and Thirty-first regiments of infantry for a campaign, and resolved the whole situation into a matter of marking time in quarters.

This is not a criticism of General Graves. What he might prefer to do, compared with what his orders were, is the difference between a good soldier obeying his orders and a commander carrying out the orders of his superiors. I believe that all concerned obeyed their orders, and no higher compliment can be paid to soldiers. If their orders are not in accordance with their personal desires, all the more credit to them for obeying. So in discussing the situation as I found it in Vladivostok, I wish to make it plain that I realized the difficulties under which the Headquarters Staff labored. Its prime business was to obey orders, not to be popular with anybody, in or out of the expedition.

When the two regiments of infantry, tucked away in the Philippines and apparently marooned from the war, got orders to leave for Siberia, there was great joy. For the regular officers it meant activity and service stripes, and probably medals, and a campaign in their records, and experience and a chance for distinction. And many of these officers, due to age, or the lottery of the service which sends some officers to the front and immures others to a tropical cloister, had given up all hopes of having a hand in the war. Suddenly a new front was devised for them, and they were rushed off to make history.

Colonel Styer was in command at Vladivostok, and at that time there was every reason to believe that there would be lively times. The two regiments prepared themselves accordingly, and were ready for swift and decisive action when they landed. With the quiet efficiency of the regular, they overlooked nothing in order to be ready for whatever developed.

This little machine was running on a high gear, when General Graves arrived. He drew the fires and stopped the engine. Presently two more transports arrived, with reinforcing troops, and our Intelligence party, direct from Washington. Our officers had presumably been selected for Siberian service because they were experts in their various lines, and necessarily being enthusiasts for their own line of endeavor, showed great interest in the situation.

They laid down a barrage of questions on the staff, ranging from where they were to sleep, to data on the available coal supply from the Golden Horn to the Urals. They had been cooped in a hotel and a transport for some two months since leaving Washington, some of them had never been away from the United States, and they brought an element of romping boyishness to the sedate, quiet and somewhat bored staff. Some of them, though captains, had never been near an army, and their civilian enthusiasms jarred headquarters.

Having quelled one epidemic of enthusiasm, the staff rather crossly and tactlessly set about stamping out this fresh access of desire for picturesque action. The staff, it was said, assumed the attitude that it was competent to run the Siberian expedition without the aid of a “lot of theorists and amateurs from civil life.”

The younger officers on duty, fresh from West Point and feeling much exalted at finding themselves wearing insignia of rank which in the old army sometimes took twenty years to attain, reflected the attitude of the elders, and two hostile camps developed in a single building. And this was the war I walked into, all unknowingly, when I came back from Khabarovsk.

I found myself “one of that Intelligence bunch,” and no matter how politely I asked for some action of a routine nature in order to carry out my own orders, I found that the wheels did not turn for me. Of course, there was not a flat refusal, but there was what might be called “mental sabotage”—my requests were forgotten till I had to resort to plain language to get what I needed.