As the ‘war to end all wars’ reached its bloody crescendo, a foolhardy intervention was launched into Russia’s civil war, which ended in defeat and a sinister complicity.
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(Photo by Stacey Mutkin)
As the Great War was coming to a close, a new existential threat faced Europe: Bolshevism. Standing in the way of the ‘Reds’ were the ‘White’ Russians: a jumbled amalgamation of monarchists, republicans, conservatives, liberals and leftists. Already bruised and bloodied from the trenches, British, American and French troops were thrown into this chaotic civil war that could not have been further from the grinding stalemates of the Western Front.
In 2023, Anna Reid released her riveting work on the intervention in the Russian Civil War, A Nasty Little War, now in paperback. Reid spoke to History of War magazine on intervention troops’ experiences of the conflict, their exposure to the White Army’s anti-semitism and how intervention contributed to interwar European instability. She also shared her reflections on the current Russo-Ukraine War and the lessons from the Russian Civil War.
How did the British respond to the first reports of the Bolshevik coup and the outbreak of the Russian Civil War?
The February Revolution was greeted joyfully by all the Allies because everyone thought Russia was going to steamroll over the Austrian and German armies due to its natural resources and enormous population. When Tsar Nicholas II abdicated and handed over to the civilian centre-left government, the other Allies welcomed it as he was a disliked character in the West. People saw him as this blood-stained autocrat and Russia as a politically backward country. There were great hopes for the new government, but it never really managed to take power because, at the same time, there were the Soviets, and grassroots committees springing up at every workplace, including the Army. The collapse of the army accelerated with mass desertions. Trains full of soldiers left the front to go back home.
Related: What happened in the 1917 Russian Revolution?
Everyone could see the Provisional Government’s days were numbered, but the Bolshevik takeover was a complete surprise. They were a tiny, little-known revolutionary splinter group. None of the diplomatic corps in Saint Petersburg had anything to do with Leon Trotsky and Vladimir Lenin. They were just cranky exiled pamphleteers and everyone assumed that they would only last a few weeks, swept away by somebody else who was more credible and better established. That didn’t happen and it took Paris, London and Washington time to come to terms with the fact the Bolsheviks were there to stay.
Photo: Fine Art Images/Heritage Images/Getty Images
What dismayed the Allies was when the Bolsheviks started peace talks. Lenin’s slogan, which helped bring him into power, was “Peace, Land, Bread”, and it was immensely popular because Russia was utterly war-weary. He started peace talks that were hard for Lenin politically because he had to give away all of Ukraine and the Baltics, a significant chunk of the old Russian Empire, in exchange for peace.
Lenin managed to push this through his Central Committee, but it was touch and go. This was appalling news for the Allies. Germany now had access to Baltic timber, Ukrainian grain, and the coal mines of Donbas, as well as to the large stocks of military supplies that the Allies had been supplying Russia with. They were piled up in Murmansk, the Arctic Sea port, and Vladivostok on the Russian Pacific Coast. The Allies were terrified it would all get handed over to Germany in the peace negotiations.
The first step in what later became the full-scale intervention was landing marines in Murmansk and Vladivostok and occupying the ports to take control of the warehouses. That was in the spring/summer of 1918 and everything progressed from there.
Related: Romanov Exiles: How Britain Betrayed the Russian Royal Family
Most British troops called up to the intervention had already fought on the Western Front and would have to continue fighting after the Armistice. How did they react to this situation?
Before the Armistice, the career soldiers among them were furious at being pulled out from the main scene of action on the Western Front. They wanted to be in at the kill to see Germany beaten. Instead, they were sent off to this sideshow in Russia, which they saw as a demotion. Meanwhile, non-career soldiers and the rank-and-file had had enough of the Western Front. They saw Russia as a picnic and were relieved to board the troopships and guard some warehouses. There was a holiday atmosphere on the troop ships off to Murmansk and Archangel.
Photo: Fine Art Images/Heritage Images/Getty Images
Only a few months later, the Armistice was signed. This left the career soldiers happy to be in Russia, because that was where there was still active service and promotion prospects. Meanwhile, the conscripts and rank-and-file were thinking, what on earth am I doing in Russia?; I don’t care about it; it’s none of my business; the war is over. From the winter of 1918-19 onwards, soldiers were refusing to leave barracks to entrain back to the front. Sometimes, they would obey orders to attack the first time, but if the attack failed, they would refuse to attack again. Most of the soldiers’ strikes were small-scale and hushed up, but larger ones had court marshals and soldiers sent home and to prison. The famous one was the Yorkshire Regiment, where several dozen men ended up in jail on Dartmoor.
Related: For Tsar and Country: Britain’s role in the Russian Civil War
What did the British troops make of Russia and the Russian people?
The places where the Allies were actually living were mostly in little Arctic villages south of Archangel and Murmansk. They were forest-bound, wilderness, log cabin settlements, usually near vast woods and great rivers. They were billeted in Russian households. Reading soldiers’ diaries and letters, lots of touching friendships arose. On Christmas, the soldiers would put together Christmas trees and give presents to the kids and they’d take people for their first ride in motor cars. In return, local priests would come to bless the soldiers’ barracks at Easter and local girls would perform dances. It was an unequal relationship as, at the same time, the intervention troops were carrying out requisitions, particularly transport. I came across a diary where a soldier had taken a photograph of himself in a little cart with a pony and his driver. Underneath, he had written: “Requisitioning transport, weeping women a sad but necessary daily duty.”
One mustn’t idealise these relationships, but what comes through in the diaries was that the intervention troops were very admiring of the resilience, resourcefulness and toughness of the local peasants. The soldiers appreciated how they coped with their winters and how skillful they were with an axe. The local people could put up a bridge or a blockhouse in a day. The soldiers were interested in all the technicalities of Arctic life and would do neat little diagrams of fish traps and special sled designs.
Yet, we should remember that the American troops brought Spanish Flu to Russia. After landing, they carried it to Archangel and Murmansk, on barges down the River Dvina and along the railway from Murmansk. The medical corps did their best to treat the locals, but it was a drop in the ocean. The civilian death rates soared and the Spanish flu is the single worst thing the intervention did to the civilian population in the north.
To read our full interview with Anna Reid, where she discusses anti-semitic attitudes held during the intervention, its contribution to the instability of interwar Europe and connections between the Whites and Vladimir Putin, pick up issue 136 of History of War.