To travel over the country and find such conditions everywhere, regarded by the native population as normal, and then to hear of epidemics which were being fought by the Red Cross doctors, and thousands of dollars in medical supplies and medicines being shipped into the country as gifts from the American people, made me wonder if it would not be better to first use a knout on those responsible for insanitary conditions beyond description or belief.
There was a great clamor about the danger of typhus, and our medical men, military and civilian, were much concerned about its spread. There were slips of paper distributed, printed in Russian, telling what to do when afflicted with typhus. It was described as a disease caused by body vermin, and urging personal cleanliness. I have seen many Siberians read that warning, while they casually scratched themselves. Generally speaking, the people regard lice as things which create a slight discomfort, but are not worthy of much attention—about on a par with flies.
One thing the Siberian does thoroughly—he takes a funeral seriously. He turns it into a dramatic pageant, and no detail is overlooked. But he will not turn his hand over to take any precaution against disease, or the conditions that create it. I asked several Siberians, merely to get their attitudes, if it would not be well to improve sanitary conditions. “You will all be sick and die,” I said to one man.
“We may be sick, but we will not die,” he said. “What if we are sick? The Americanskys are sending medicines to cure us.”
Probably if we demanded good sanitary conditions before we would supply medical goods, we would be interfering with the people. But if we were going to contribute medicines to a locality at home which allowed breeding spots for disease all over the locality, I am willing to wager that we would demand an improvement of the sanitation, and see that it was accomplished, even if we had to use some kind of force.
One of my first duties was to call upon Lieutenant General Oba, commanding the Japanese division, with headquarters at Chita. The Japanese staff occupied a four-story department store which covered an entire block. This building had been swept clean of its contents by looting Bolshevists.
It happened that the Chief of Intelligence in our forces, had been in Chita several days, and was preparing to return to Vladivostok. He went with me to Oba’s headquarters, and we took with us a Y. M. C. A. man who had been a missionary in Japan and who spoke Japanese well.
In the hall there was a wooden dial on a table, with a wooden arrow. In sectors of the circle, were written Japanese and Russian sentences, arranged so that when you read the Russian sentence which applied to the officer you wished to call upon, and turned the arrow to that sector, it also pointed to a translation in Japanese. Then the guard on duty learned from this automatic interpreter, your business, and sent your card in to the proper officer.
We were conducted to a room where we removed our heavy coats and furs, and presently we were ushered into the presence of Oba. He is a small man, of dignified but unassuming manners, and most amiable. I liked him extremely. If I remember correctly, his foreign training was French, and I missed the Germanic bluntness and the striving for dignity which so many Japanese officers have as the result of acquiring or copying German military manners.
Most Japanese officers who attain high rank are in addition to being accomplished soldiers, astute diplomats. At least that is the impression they give me. It may be that what I ascribe to astuteness, is in reality an avoidance of discussing many of the things which other foreign officers will discuss together with more or less frankness. Silence is often mistaken for great wisdom. It may be wise to be silent—if one wishes to appear wise. In a newspaper experience covering nearly a quarter of a century, I have sometimes found many men supposed to be oracles, merely to be clams. Once they could be induced to talk, their limitations were apparent.