I would say that Oba has all the French love of conversation, and in addition is most frank. There was no reason why he should plunge into a discussion of Japan in Siberia, and there was no reason why he should be more than formally polite. Yet every time I had occasion to call on Oba, he made me feel thoroughly at home, and such occasions proved to be in the nature of a pleasure rather than an official ordeal. His abilities as a soldier I do not doubt, but I believe he would serve Japan well as a diplomat.
Technically, it was proper to call first upon Ataman Semenoff, but at that time he was confined to his bed suffering from the wounds inflicted by a bomb thrown at him in a theatre of Chita. So we called upon his chief of staff, General Verego. There was much intrigue in Semenoff’s little army of some five thousand, and Verego lost his power in time, and went away to Harbin.
We also called upon the head of the civil government, or who would have been the head of the civil government of the province had there been any civil government—a Mr. Tashkin, who at one time was a member of the Duma. He proved to be a typical Russian statesman, including whiskers and glasses. His keen eyes impressed me as being able to see and understand many things, and I felt that he was only biding his time till certain military autocracies could be pushed into the background. He is the type of man upon which Russia will have to depend for statesmanship, when it gives up government by the sword.
Oba, Semenoff, Tashkin—to me, those three symbolized the situation in Siberia. Oba, to a certain extent, with the power of the Japanese Empire behind him, stood behind Semenoff; Semenoff was at outs with Kolchak, who in Omsk proclaimed himself the Supreme Ruler of Russia; Semenoff had fought the Bolshevists with his little army while Kolchak remained inactive in Harbin; Kolchak, the way cleared by Semenoff’s army, jumped ahead of Semenoff to Omsk and became the chief of all Russia in theory; Semenoff, ambitious to set himself up as a local prince if not ambitious to be the dictator of all Russia, resented being called upon to subordinate himself to Kolchak and have his wings clipped.
Kalmikoff, being a Cossack, stood with Semenoff so far as he dared, he in turn backed by Oi, the Japanese commander at Khabarovsk. The United States stood aloof, merely pleading that all parties come to agreement. Tashkin remained quiet in the background, holding the thin thread of his civil power.
Semenoff was charged by Kolchak with treason, and blocking the railroad and cutting the wires near Chita. Semenoff denied the charges, and some of his own supply trains were held up near Harbin by General Horvat, head of the Chinese Eastern section of the Trans-Siberian. Horvat is said to have taken that action to aid Kolchak in forcing Semenoff to put his army and himself under the orders of Kolchak. In the meantime, while these forces should have combined and been whipping the Bolshevists, the latter were gaining strength and cutting Russia’s throat.
My chief dined with a Russian family the night he left and expected his train to arrive about ten o’clock. His interpreter went to the station and learned that the train would be in about seven. So we sent hasty word to the colonel, and he left the dinner and hastened to the station. We pried our way into the usual crowd of refugees and sat on the colonel’s baggage in the evil-smelling restaurant.
Seven o’clock came, but no train. Inquiry resulted in the information that it would be there “Sichass,” or presently. The train came at two the next morning. It was stuffed to suffocation, as usual. The station commandant fought his way into a second-class car, found a compartment with accommodations for four persons which held eight, and routed them all out. The passage in the car was so jammed with people that we had difficulty in getting in, and had to pass the baggage over the heads of the crowd. And the eight who had been evicted, together with their food and cooking utensils, stood around and cursed the commandant.
In order to reach the train, we had to first climb over ice-covered freight cars, which stood between the passenger train and platform. The night was dark, the tracks were coated with ice, and everything was slippery. But we managed to transfer all the colonel’s belongings, and left him with a guttering candle in his compartment. A Chinese colonel and his interpreter were put in with him, and the train pulled out for Vladivostok. Werkstein and I went back to our hotel, and to bed. We represented the United States in Chita. The next morning two of Semenoff’s officers were found assassinated in the streets—their backs had been blown out in the frozen fog of the night before.