Chapter 13: The Russian Civil War - Battle on the Ice (1)
January 12, 1918
On the train heading to Southern Russia, Trotsky and I sat in silence, locked in a wordless stare. To be precise, Trotsky was glaring at me, and I was avoiding his gaze.
The Treaty of Brest-Litovsk, which ceded approximately 150,000 square kilometers of territory to Germany and committed Russia to future reparations, had caused considerable uproar.
Nearly every faction within the Petrograd Soviet launched a concentrated attack on Trotsky, Kamenev, and me for signing this humiliating treaty.
Throughout this ordeal, Trotsky seemed particularly shocked by the attacks from those he had considered allies.
"This treaty betrays the spirit of the Soviet Revolution and the international proletariat's world revolution! Comrade Trotsky, aren't you ashamed? You've just sold out the possibility of international revolution to Germany!"
Nikolai Bukharin, chairman of the Moscow Soviet, delivered the most stinging attack.
In actual history, Bukharin was known as a rather moderate person. If even he was criticizing us so harshly, it was safe to assume that almost no one in the Soviet supported us.
"Well done, comrades. We can ignore the criticism of those who don't understand reality. Especially you, Comrade Siyoung. You've been through a lot. Good work."
In reality, Lenin was the only one who truly supported us.
In any case, I don't know about Kamenev, but Trotsky and I, lacking our own power base and popularity, inevitably faced demotion.
We both retained our positions as People's Commissar for Foreign Affairs and Commissioner for National Minorities, but we both knew:
There would be no next opportunity.
"...So where exactly are we heading?" I mustered the courage to ask.
Trotsky, who had been glaring at me over his newspaper, turned his gaze back to the paper and replied indifferently:
"To Rostov. The Cossack Rebel Army recently drove out the Rostov Soviet and declared it their capital. They're said to be relatively few in number, so the forces we're taking should be sufficient to suppress them."
"How many troops exactly are we taking?"
"Twenty-four thousand. If we combine them with the local Red Guard, we'll easily have sixty thousand."
"What about the enemy's forces?"
"Less than 10,000."
"Huh...?"
We're sending six times as many troops to capture an army of less than 10,000? That's a bit Excessive. As I pondered this, Trotsky sneered.
"Don't entertain such foolish thoughts. Our opponents are the Cossacks—natives of this region for centuries. Do you really think we can outmaneuver them strategically?"
I shook my head. Trotsky continued.
"In other words, we can't win through tactics alone. They're familiar with the Southern Russian terrain and rely on cavalry, while we're mostly infantry. We can't match their mobility. In the end, all we can rely on is our numerical superiority..."
"...and our superior firepower."
"That's right. Numbers don't lie. Our goal is the complete annihilation of the Rebel Army. If they escape to Siberia or Ukraine, the civil war will drag on. We must end this decisively."
Sigh. A weary sigh escaped me.
How on earth were we supposed to achieve this goal?
"First, since we outnumber them, we have no choice but to station troops at every possible escape route. Cooperation with locals is paramount, but the problem is that while the Bolsheviks are somewhat popular in cities, we have no support in the countryside."
In other words, we had to fight the defenders, who were essentially holding down the map's key points, without any local allies. We outnumbered them six to one, but while our morale was high, our discipline and command structure were in utter disarray.
Can we really win this?
The train, oblivious to our anxieties, continued to race across the Russian plains.
"Present arms!"
"Present arms!"
"Hail! I am Lieutenant General Alexei Avtonomov, Commander-in-Chief of the 11th Army! I sincerely welcome Comrade Lev Trotsky, Hero of Petrograd, and Comrade Siyeong Lee!"
A youthful commander, about my age, saluted us. Trotsky returned the salute casually, like a company commander I often saw during my military days.
"Hail. I am Lev Trotsky of the Council of People's Commissars. This is Comrade Siyeong Lee. We don't have much time; we need to move quickly to suppress the rebellion. No need for long formalities. Are your troops ready?"
"Yes, fully prepared!"
I was surprised by how well-drilled the troops appeared. Even in front of political officers, this level of discipline couldn't have been achieved in just a few days of training.
"Good. Are all the troops here Cossacks?"
"That's correct. Some Cossacks joined the Rebel Army, but these soldiers here volunteered to fight for their nation's independence, inspired by Comrade Vladimir Lenin's principle of national self-determination."
That was a relief. At least we had soldiers who knew the area well. Trotsky seemed to share my sentiment.
"Good, good. First, tell the soldiers to get some rest. Then we'll discuss proper operations. We need to recapture Rostov tomorrow. Comrade Siyeong, let's go inside."
"Understood. Rest well!"
"Rest well!"
Seeing these soldiers brought back memories of my own military days, and my PTSD symptoms flared up.
"Rostov itself would fall easily if attacked," Avtonomov explained, pointing at a map of Southern Russia. "But that's not the real problem. Our main objective isn't to capture the city, but to annihilate the enemy forces and commanders."
Trotsky and I nodded. He's got the crucial information.
"Therefore, after Rostov falls, we must predict where Kornilov's Rebel Army will head next."
"Kornilov is leading the Rebel Army?"
"That's correct, Comrade Trotsky. Haven't you heard the news?"
"No. I only heard that Kornilov was involved in the rebellion. I had no idea he was the ringleader. Since Kornilov owes a considerable debt to the citizens of Petrograd, we should seize this opportunity to have that debt forgiven."
Lavr Kornilov. A name cursed by all the citizens of Petrograd.
Kornilov, who had repeatedly threatened both the Bolsheviks and the Kerensky Provisional Government with his coup attempts, had actually attempted a coup in September, narrowly failing due to the Railway Union's refusal to cooperate.
"Anyway, let's continue. Just hearing that damned Kornilov's name makes my blood boil."
"Ah, understood. In any case, we need to predict where the Rebel Army will head after capturing Rostov. We're predicting Yekaterinodar (now Krasnodar)."
Avtonomov pointed to a spot on the map.
"Yekaterinodar is sufficient to serve as the Rebel Army's base for the following reasons. First, this area has a large number of Cossacks loyal to the Russian Empire. Second, having been developed as a military city during the Imperial era, it is easy to defend."
"Then we must seize Yekaterinodar regardless of the circumstances. If the city becomes the center of the Anti-Soviet Cossacks in the future, it will be easier to secure it now."
"Exactly. Therefore, I propose that after capturing Rostov, we immediately send troops to Yekaterinodar to seize the city."
Trotsky glanced at my face and nodded in agreement with my suggestion.
"Good. But what if our paths cross with the Rebel Army? Wouldn't it be better to encircle and annihilate them at Yekaterinodar?"
At that, Avtonomov took out a blue pen and drew two lines on the map.
"There are two routes from Rostov to Yekaterinodar. One is the direct route, and the other is a longer, roundabout route. We don't know which route they'll choose, but regardless of which they take, they'll arrive in Yekaterinodar later than us, since we can use the armored train."
"Then they'll likely choose the roundabout route."
"Why do you think that, Comrade Trotsky?" I asked, responding to his seemingly offhand remark. Trotsky smiled lightly.
"It's simple logic, Comrade Lee. We can quickly reach the city by train. If they predict we're heading to Yekaterinodar, choosing the fastest route wouldn't give us any time advantage, so they'll likely choose the roundabout route."
"What if they don't predict that?"
"Then it's fortunate for us. We'll be able to completely seize a crucial point for both sides, while they'll just wander the barren plains of Southern Russia until they starve to death."
"But Kornilov... no, for the Rebel Army as well, wouldn't reaching the city quickly be better for morale?" Trotsky shook his head as he spoke to General Avtonomov.
"No, that's not the case at all. General Avtonomov, please spread the map again."
Trotsky pointed to the cities southeast of Yekaterinodar.
"Yekaterinodar may be the most important strategic point in the south, but the problem is its predictability. The detour you mentioned, General Avtonomov, actually means taking an unexpected route. Look at the map. There are plenty of cities like Stavropol that the Rebel Army could use as bases."
It was clearly visible on the map. Yekaterinodar was marked with the thickest line, but beneath it, like raised bumps, were smaller cities.
"In other words, the ideal scenario for the Rebel Army would be to lure them toward the Caucasus Mountains and then seize the now-empty Yekaterinodar. At least, that's what I would do if I were the commander. As for what that Kornilov bastard is thinking, who knows?"
"What does Comrade Trotsky believe we should do?" Avtonomov asked politely.
Trotsky grinned maliciously, preparing to unleash the motor in his mouth.
"I've got it all figured out. Listen carefully."
January 14, 1918.
Rostov was empty.
"Should we consider this... a trap?" Trotsky shook his head.
"No. They don't have the luxury of setting traps in this situation. It's likely they've completely abandoned Rostov."
Just as morale was flagging due to the thorough preparations for the offensive, a messenger brought news.
"Urgent report! A dispatch from the frontline scouts! The Rebel Army is marching southeast!"
A smile played on Trotsky's lips.
"As expected. They've chosen a detour. This allows us to proceed with our plan as intended."
He turned to General Avtonomov beside him and issued his orders.
"General, send a Special Detachment of 30,000... no, make it 40,000 men to pursue the Rebel Army. In fact, the exact number doesn't matter. We want them to believe this detachment is our main force."
"Yessir, understood. I'll summon them immediately."
The moment Avtonomov left, we rose from our seats.
"Well then, Comrade Siyeong, it's time for us to act. We're in for a pleasant train journey. Good thing the Rebel Army hasn't sabotaged the railway."
"Yes, Comrade Trotsky. I'll follow your orders."
Trotsky's plan wasn't particularly complex.
Currently, the Bolsheviks had 60,000 soldiers. And news of the main Bolshevik force arriving from the north must have already reached the Rebel Army.
Our goal was to make them believe we were being deceived, as if we hadn't even considered the possibility that the Rebel Army might take a detour to Yekaterinodar.
Trotsky dispatched 40,000 soldiers as a Special Detachment to pursue the Rebel Army. He acknowledged that many would sacrifice their lives, but deemed it an unavoidable price. He was right. If they failed to decisively suppress the rebels here, the civil war would spread across all of Russia.
Meanwhile, the remaining 20,000 troops would seize Yekaterinodar and trap the rebel forces attempting to enter the city, caught between the advancing Special Detachment and the defending troops.
"This is the only plan I have," Trotsky muttered on the train to Yekaterinodar. "This is the only strategy that makes sense in this situation."
"But you could also say it's the most feasible of all the plans I can think of. Isn't it true that changing your first answer on a test usually leads to a wrong answer? Right?"
I silently nodded in agreement.
January 1918. The campaign in Southern Russia, later known as the "Ice March," began.