David Oldman - Dusk at Dawn

Paul supposed his face must have betrayed what he was thinking. Browning adopted a hectoring tone:

‘There are other considerations, Rostov. I don’t think you can be aware of the political situation. At least, not as it pertains to our working classes. The miners, for example, and the shipbuilders on the Clyde…’

Paul wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. The situation as it pertains to our working classes …?

Browning was absolutely right — Paul wasn’t aware of the political situation because for the last two years he had been too busy trying to keep himself alive in the Ypres Salient. What did he know about shipbuilders on the Clyde? About any of the working classes, come to that? He’d never met any until he’d been given a platoon to command and shoved into a trench. They had seemed to him like an alien species and the fact that they generally did what he asked of them was more to do with the intimidating NCOs he’d been given rather anything he’d done.

‘If we crush this revolution now,’ Browning stated, ‘we won’t have to do it later.’

‘As well as Murmansk, Archangel and Vladivostok there will be landings on the Black Sea coast,’ Cumming resumed, bringing the matter back to one of logistics. ‘The first resistance to the Bolshevik coup was in the south. Rostov-on-Don,’ he added, eyeing Paul as if the fact he had the same name was pertinent. ‘General Deniken has assumed command of the southern forces. General Kornilov managed to escape from Petrograd but we’ve had reports that he was killed in shelling in the Kuban in April. We have no information as to whether your cousin was with him or not.’

‘Mikhail?’

‘You’re no doubt aware of his involvement in Kornilov’s coup attempt last September?’

‘What coup? No, I had no idea.’

Browning and Cumming exchanged glances again.

‘You do know that Kerensky made Kornilov commander-in-chief of the eastern front, I suppose? Whether Kerensky colluded in the coup isn’t clear. It’s equally possible he was the target. He certainly maintains as much. The whole affair was something of a fiasco, I’m afraid.’ Cumming adopted a pained expression. ‘We haven’t many details but we do know that after the unrest in July when the Bolsheviks first tried to seize power, Kornilov decided to move on Petrograd. He had support in the capital of course — your cousin and other right-wingers — but the whole thing seems to have been disorganised. The regiment Kornilov despatched failed to reach Petrograd and the men turned on their officers. The coup attempt was just the sort of thing the Bolsheviks had warned against and so played right into their hands.’ He shook his head, dislodging the monocle. ‘After July they’d been pariahs. All Kornilov managed to do was rehabilitate them. Kerensky tried denouncing the coup but by then he’d lost all credibility. The general charged with taking Petrograd shot himself and Kornilov was arrested. All Kerensky did, whether he knew about the coup in advance or not, was to alienate what was left of the officer corps. After that things just went to the dogs.’ He stared moodily at the map for a moment before continuing. ‘We believe your cousin managed to evade arrest although whether he went south or not we’re not sure. We’ve had no word on him.’

Paul didn’t give a hoot about Mikhail. What he cared about, if they were landing troops in Archangel and on the Black Sea, was what they wanted of him.

Cumming appeared to read his mind.

‘You are no doubt asking yourself how you can be of assistance, given the situation.’

That wasn’t quite how Paul would have put it, but he realised the answer would be the same.

‘Communication isn’t easy at the best of times and to make matters worse we’ve lost the telegraph. The French have some liaison officers with the Czechs who, needless to say, are still as keen as the Czech National Council to get them out of Russia — either through Omsk and thence to Archangel or via Vladivostok, whichever’s quickest. The War Office have a different plan.’

‘The French liaison officers will follow orders once they’re in a position to receive orders,’ Browning put in. ‘Masaryk and Beneš at the Czech National Council have fallen in line. Once it was made clear to them where their best interests lay.’

‘I don’t follow.’

‘No, I don’t suppose you do since you’re the wrong Ross,’ Cumming said, ‘but frankly we haven’t the time to put you in the picture. You’ll have to take us on trust until Hart can fill you in on the details. The important thing is to do what we can to assist the War Office in their aim.’

‘Which is?’

‘To turn the Legion around and move west.’ Cumming turned to the map once more to demonstrate, perhaps, how easy it would be. ‘The Czech rear is currently here to the east of Chelyabinsk and Ekaterinburg. The War Office plan is to make it the front line and push west. Caught between the Legion and the allied forced moving south from Murmansk and Archangel and north from the Black Sea, the Bolshevik movement will be snuffed out before it takes root.’

‘Why would the Legion turn west and fight the Bolsheviks when all they want is to go east to fight the Austrians and Germans?’

‘Because their National Council will order them to do so. And because they won’t be alone.

‘The Allies, you mean.’

‘Better than that. We’ve got Kolchak. The Supreme Allied War Council has decided that Admiral Kolchak is the man most likely to save Russia. We are to give him our backing.’

Paul wondered how he planned to achieve that. What was he going to do, bombard Petersburg from the Baltic? He’d have to get past the German blockade first.

‘Does he have any ships?’

Cumming cleared his throat. ‘It will be a land-based campaign.’

‘But he’s an admiral… does he have an army?’

‘Not yet,’ Browning said. ‘He’s in Tokyo at the moment.’

‘Tokyo? What’s he doing there?’

‘The Japanese have occupied Manchuria. The admiral is attempting to secure their co-operation.’

‘In assisting the Legion.’

‘Precisely,’ Cumming said. ‘We envisage the admiral returning to Russia through Vladivostok and travelling west, garnering support along the way. So, as you can see, this puts you in a unique position.’

‘Does it?’

‘Naturally. The French have their liaison officers with the Legion and the War Office believe we need a man there, too. Otherwise the frogs are likely to march all over us. Your unique background makes you the man for the job.’

‘But I told you—’

‘Yes, we know, the man we thought you were is dead. But that can’t be helped. We just have to make the best we can of it. We may have missed the bull’s eye, but at least we’ve scored a couple of outers. Your connection with Mikhail Rostov and with Kolchak.’

‘But I don’t have a connection with Kolchak!’

‘He has expressed a hope to your mother,’ Cumming said, ‘that he might have the opportunity to meet you. Being your father’s son and all that.’

‘You’ve spoken to my mother?’

‘No need. She’s mentioned the fact to several people. It’s no secret.’

Yes, he could believe that. She’d bore anyone who’d stand still long enough to listen. Odd how she had never told him. Or perhaps she had. Sitting by his bedside those first weeks in hospital she had prattled on about many things. He’d slept through most of it. When he could.

‘We’re putting you with the Legion’s rearguard in the Chelyabinsk region. In place for when Kolchak arrives. By then, of course, we expect it to be the front line. If all goes to plan you’ll have contacted your cousin and sounded out the strength of the anti-Bolshevik factions in Petrograd and Moscow. If he’s the man he’s cracked up to be he’ll be able to organise some sort of co-ordinated rising in the cities. Failing that, he can liaise with Deniken in the south. By the time our troops in Murmansk have linked up with Archangel, we’ll be pressuring Petrograd.’