Heroic Story of the Czecho-Slovak Legions/Prisoners of war
II.
PRISONERS OF WAR.
Captain “N.“ then told me the incidents and adventures after he and his regiment were taken prisoners. The enthusiasm with which they had surrendered was subjected immediately afterwards to a severe ordeal, when, despite their being Czechs and Slavs who were longing to fight for independence, they were treated as simple prisoners of war. Their fate was the same as that of the others, Germans and Magyars, and they were destined for the distant prisoners’ camps in Eastern Russia or Siberia. It is the story of all the Czechs who were taken prisoners in the early days of the war. They were placed, often despite their indignant protests, in the same cars as the Magyars and Austrians. They were moved for days and weeks in trains that crawled slowly along, and seemed to have no particular destination, first through Kieff, then through Northern Ukraina, to Kursk, Perm, Pensa, and Sysran. Stations that might have been reached in twenty-four hours were reached in twenty four days. Still the lazy prisoner trains crept along, through the Ural regions and into Siberia, where the first great centre was Omsk. Other trains, like that in which Captain “S.“ travelled, deviated after leaving the regions of the Volga, and eventually landed them in Samarkand or elsewhere in Turkestan after three or four months’ journey. From these stations they were sometimes transported still farther into the unknown districts of Siberia, and landed in camps the names of which were never heard in Europe.
Often, before they reached their final destination, the Russians had to wake up to the fact that there was a difference between the Czecho-Slovaks and the others. They had to separate them from the Magyars or Austrians, the Ruthenians or Poles. One of the trains stops at a Siberian station. Two prisoners roll out of a car, fighting, punching, tearing, and kicking each other. They are separated in the rough-andtumble, both of them badly mauled and bleeding. The Russians pay no attention to what is going on, but the Austrian senior officer, who is vaguely in charge, and voluntarily assumes a commanding attitude, intervenes. The two prisoners are two lieutenants of the Austro-Hungarian army, the one a Czech, the other a German-Austrian. The Austrian had been all along insulting the Russians whenever he saw them, and at the station he had called them curs and beasts.
The result was a fight between him and the Czech, who could not bear to hear the Russians insulted. The Austrian senior captain severely admonishes the Czech and takes out his pencil to write a report. “I shall denounce you when we return“, he says stiffly. “Denounce me as much as you like“, says the little Czech lieutenant. “We are in Siberia now, and if any of you continue to insult the Russians I shall do what I have been doing to him.“ The Russians at last interfere. Scenes like this happen too often, and the Czechs are put in separate cars, or in separate trains, to keep them from getting into a quarrel with the Magyars on Austrians.
AFTER THE SURRENDER.
Captain “N.“ continued his story as follows:
Once we were about 500 yards on the other side of the Russian hill we were safe, and the Russians made signs to us to keep on marching to the nearest village a mile or two away. We trudged along joyfully, some on the road and others through the woods. Some of our men, unfortunately, had been wounded by shells after the Austrians had turned their guns on us. We helped them along or carried them. When we got to the village we found that the divisional commander was there. We did not see him at once, and were told to stay where we were till evening. The surrender had taken place before noon. We used what rations we had with us, and got some from the Russians. We tried to speak to the Russians, and to explain to them that we had voluntarily surrendered, but it was no use: they did not understand Czech, and we could not speak Russian. A large number of Austrians from the 27th and 59th Regiments also poured into the village. Some Russian officers must have understood, though, as orders came to keep us separated from the Austrians.
Towards evening matters improved slightly. We were able to speak with some Czech volunteers in the Russian army, who welcomed us warmly and called us brothers. The Russian colonel then came and spoke to us and treated us very kindly. He was a fine, dear old man, and we liked him at once. He kept us officers at the village for the night, and told us he would send us the following morning to the headquarters of General Radko Dimitrieff. So it was to General Radko, the Bulgarian patriot, we had surrendered! It pleased us, and we were glad to have an opportunity of meeting him. A Bosnian Serb, who was one of our sub-lieutenats, also joined us, and he was able to speak to the Russians. The battle still raged very near, but we fell asleep that night with intense relief. For us the war was not yet over, but our service under the detested Austrian was over for ever. There could be no question of our going back.
AMONG RUSSIAN OFFICERS.
We slept soundly, most of us, perhaps, for the first time in the campaign, and dreamt pleasant dreams. All were cheerful in the morning, and our band once more played our hymn at the request of the colonel himself. He pushed his kindness so far as to give us a carriage, in which we were conveyed to the headquarters of General Radko Dimitrieff, about thirty kilometres away, in the beautiful old castle of Okocin. We were given lunch in the big hall of the castle with the Russian officers, who all treated us very kindly and like brothers.
In the afternoon we were questioned for military information. We gave in detail all we knew about the composition and the disposition of the Austrian Army. I think many of the details were useful, and we gave them gladly. General Radko Dimitrieff, who passed at that moment, came up to us and saluted us. He was pleased at seeing us Czechs and the interpreter told him that we had voluntarily surrendered and were friends.
We were then taken on foot to the village of Dembitza, close by. The following morning we were put in a train and had to go a little distance. An Austrian officer, who had seen that the day before us Czechs had been given a carriage, obstinately refused to walk. He persisted in asking for a carriage. A Cossack sub-lieutenant finaly walked up to him and gave him a few cracks with his whip. The Austrian quickly changed his mind, and started to walk briskly.
The train took us around Przemysl, which was then being besieged, and all day long we heard the big Russian guns. In the evening our train reached Lemberg, and we left the same night for the frontier of Galicia. In the morning we arrived at Volocyska, in Russian territory. Two days later we were at Kieff. On the way we were profoundly impressed by what we saw of the immence reserves of the Russian Army. These reserves seemed inexhaustible, and there were camps between all the stations, where we saw the recruits drilling. It gave us a high idea of the gigantic resources in men which Russia seemed to have, and their equipment seemed to us also perfect. We commented upon it among ourselves, and we recalled the disparaging remarks often made by the Austrians about Russia. Our idea at that time was that Russia was a gigantic empire of inexhaustible strength and resources. We were proud to be Slavs, and proud to think that the future of our little Slav country would surely be well protected by our great Slav brethren, the Russians.
STORY OF CAPTAIN “S.“
At this point Captain “S.“ desired to tell me his story up to the moment of his surrender. It is necessary to tell it at once, because it differed entirely from that of Captain “N.“, and show how Czechs, even when incorporated with Austrian regiments and left alone to themselves, never missed an opportunity of deserting the Austrian ranks.
With me it was fight, fight, for seven months. There were weeks when I was in some battle or skirmish every day! I was not incorporated in a Czech regiment, like my friend, Captain N . . ., but was with an Austrian regiment, the 9th. I was only a sub-lieutenant at first, then a lieutenant, but always in command of a company, and several times of a battalion. I had Austrians above me, below me, and all round me. Every move of mine for eight months, day and night, was under their vigilant eye. I had no choice. But I made the beggars fight. I entered each battle as my last. My life was up. Each time I was fully prepared to leave my skin. But the men in my company had to leave theirs, too. I don’t know how many times my companies were wiped out. Four or five times I returned with only half a dozen men. My companies were filled up, and then off we were to be killed like those before. I wonder I am still alive. Twice I was taken prisoner, and twice the Austrians had the luck to fetch me back. But the third time I got away for good.
I left a dear young wife at Prague with a baby of three months. I also left my mother. I did not have time even to make a will; I had to hurry off the first day. The regiment’s depôt was at Stryj, between Przemysl and Stanislavov, in Galicia. An Austrian company in peace formation consisted of eighty men. When I got to the depôt it numbered 240 men. I was put in command of a company at once. There were not sufficient officers. We drilled at Stryj for six days, and then were sent off in a hurry to Przemysl. I was hoping the Russians would soon get there. The Austrians were already in a terrible fright. It was only in the month of August, but the Russians had begun to enter Galicia.
We left Przemysl on Aug. 12 for Jaroslav Senyava. We marched for fourteen days without a stop, covering about twenty to thirty kilometres a day, followed by all our military train the cavalry in fron and the artillery behind. On Aug. 26 we had our first engagement. I am sorry to say it was a victory for the Austrians. I commanded a company of Ruthenians. I had imagined they were friends of the Russians. But I was wrong. They fought like demons against them, better than the Austrians. The engagement lasted from early morning till five p. m.
THREE DAYS’ FIGHTING.
We had orders to attack at once, and we did. The Russians had trenches: we had none. My men attacked with the bayonet. The Russians fell back and we followed them up. It was a case of fighting from position to position. Towards evening both sides were pretty well tired. They rested by a sort of mutual consent. The engagements formed part of the first big battle that extended as far as Lublin. The Austrian Field-Marshal Dankl commanded our troops. The Russians were under General Ivanoff, who commanded the armies of the south-west. We had the advantage for a few days. We fought hard for three days till we got to the village of Travniki.
Then the sudden, crushing, reverse came. The Russians had only been playing with us. On the third day they made a mass attack, which simply overwhelmed us. It was the last I saw of fourfifths of my company of Ruthenian devils. It served them right. I had no pity for them, I had none for myself. Our broken army fell back. There were no longer any sections or companies. All was in wild confusion an disorder. We left huge quantities of rifles, machine guns, ammunition, and artillery. It was a helter-skelter flight for the next ten days. It did not stop till we got to the safe side of the River San.
My company was partly replenished. Reserves had been sent to the River San. I got orders to hold the head of the bridge. Sappers had prepared trenches for us. They were wretched little burrows, only 2ft deep. Such as they were we were told that we had strong positions. We should be able to hold them for three months. When the Russians came we did not hold them for three hours. Once their guns began to play on us it was all over. Nothing could stand that game! We crossed the bridge to the village of Kreszow. There we were supposed to make a big resistance. But the Russians were on our heels. Our last men had not yet left the bridge when the first Russians were already on it. They crowded over it, heedless of the danger. The bridge was well mined, and then I saw one of the most fearful sights of war-a whole bridge flying up in the air with countless human beings on it! I shut my eyes in the midst of the confusion. An electric spark sent off a dozen mines at a time. The ground shook and the sky was glaring red by daylight. Austrians and Russians, horses and guns, all went into the air.
THE DAILY STAMPEDE.
We dug trenches madly for our lives. But the Russians got across all the same. We don’t know how they did it, but they were on our side before our trenches were half dug. We had no rest for twenty days. Each day a new position and each day a new stampede. We kept fighting and retreating, losing men, provisions, and material at every point we stopped till we got to Tarnov. Why the Russians did not follow us up and give us the finish at Tarnov on Sept. 26 was a wonder to us. They could have collected us in a handkerchief then. There was nothing left of us. My company consisted of eleven men. We got a little rest at Tarnov, which we reached on Sept. 26, and did not begin to fight again till Oct. 5. Our regiment got a reinforcement of 1.000 men. Similar reinforcements were sent to the other regiments to fill up. My company was again reconstituted with Ruthenians. I commanded them in German. But I might as well have let it alone. They did not understand Czech, and I did not know Ruthenian. It did not matter. In the Austrian Army the strict order was that only German was the language of command. I gave the command, it was for them to understand and obey! On Oct. 5 we got orders to march. It meant again to get into the thick of it all. We marched for six days, till Oct. 11. During that time at least, there was no fighting. We were near enough, though, to hear the guns all the time. Things were still blasing away all along the line. We reached the river San once more, an old acquaintance! On Oct. 11 we passed Mielez, and our orders were to take up positions on the river at a village called Svoly, some four kilometres north east of Nisko. I heard that the 28th Regiment of Prague was stationed at Nisko. I longed to get into touch with some of my compatriots and to tell them the time I was having. I had hardly come across a Czech for two months.
The first order we got from our colonel was to cross the river. It was all right to give the order from his comfortable cavern a mile behind us. My men did not like the task. The new Ruthenians who had been incorporated at Tarnov were not like the poor fellows I had before. They were not so eager to fight. I did not blame them. None of the new troops we got from that time on fought as well as those we had during the first days. The spirit of the whole Austrian Army was gone. All our regiments we had orders to cross the river and sham attempts were made. The Russians on the other side warned us off briskly each time the men approached the river. They also shelled us thoroughly, and it was all we could do to keep under cover. Our staff officers got impatient.
CROSSING THE RIVER
On Oct. 18 a decisive attack was ordered. Our men were to plunge into the river, get across somehow, and take positions on the other side. The entire division moved: but there was no crossing. The attempt was hopeless. Our pontoon service was wretched. The boats were shelled, and sent off in splinters the moment they got to the banks. The Russians then tried the game. They did better than we had done. Two of their companies got across the river, and took up a strong position on a little hill. Our commanders were furious. Orders came at once to dislodge the Russians. I ordered my company to the attack. We got to the foot of the little hill, and came back at once. There was no chance. The foot of the hill was protected by a marsh with water waist deep. The men in vain tried to wade through it. There was no getting beyond that marsh.
In all we made eleven attacks. Other companies were sent. The whole division was thrown against the position, and was driven back. The two Russian companies gallantly held their position. I went to the colonel to explain that it was hopeless to try to take it. I told him about the marsh. A staff officer took out his map, and showed me that there was no marsh. “It is not marked on the map, but the marsh is there,“ I said. I invited him to come and see! He sat down behind a tree, lit a cigarette, and said, “the map is good enough for me.“ The colonel also decided that the map was right. I must be wrong, and I had orders to try again and get to the hill, where there was no marsh. I noticed that the colonel and staff officers had a very fine shelter. It was partly under ground, and safe against shells.
The quarters were in the cellar of and old brewery. What an ideal place it was! There was a good stock of beer left. I had some of it before I went back to my men. I could not help thinking how comfortable the colonel and his staff were in the beer cellar! I counted my men, and saw that they had been woefully reduced. Those Russian companies on that little hill had cost us dear. Thirty per cent of our men had been mowed down by their machine-guns. After eleven attacks the Russians were still there. I was expected to try once more. I told my men that we had to take the position. The staff officers said there was no marsh. The staff officers proved it by their map. “I suppose there is no marsh there,“ I said to my men. “Perhaps we had better wait until it dries up and agrees with the map.“ My men understood. There were no more attacks.
We kept in our trenches. On the fourth night a patrol came into our lines. It was a Czech patrol from the 28th Regiment of Prague. What a joy to meet Czechs! We embraced. We sat down, talked and smoked cigarettes. „What are you going to do when you get the chance?“ I asked. „Just wait,“ they said looking round at my Ruthenians. „No danger,“ I said. „They don’t understand.“ The Czechs told me what they would do. I sighed to think I should not be with them. But my day would come, too.