The Value of Human Life in Soviet Warfare

The value of human life in Soviet warfare Is the Soviet Union more ready than other countries to sacrifice human lives...

Author: Amnon Sella

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The value of human life in Soviet warfare

Is the Soviet Union more ready than other countries to sacrifice human lives in warfare? This is a key question for all Western military strategists. If the Soviets are indeed willing to tolerate high human sacrifice in warfare this obviously puts them at a military advantage. The perceived wisdom, hitherto, is that the Soviets are indeed willing to tolerate high human sacrifice in warfare—this, initial, view is reinforced by myths about Stalin clearing minefields in the Second World War by marching penal battalions across them. Professor Sella, however, comes to a different conclusion. He surveys Soviet attitudes to the military-medical service; to its own prisoners of war; and to the ethos of fighting to the death, considering how attitudes have changed from Czarist times to the present. He concludes that the Soviets are less ready to tolerate massive sacrifices than has hitherto been supposed; but that this position stems as much from utilitarianmilitary logic as from any altruistic compassion. Amnon Sella is Head of the Leonard Davis Institute for International Relations and Associate Professor of International Relations and Russian Studies at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. He has published three books and over twenty papers on Soviet military and strategic questions.

The value of human life in Soviet warfare Amnon Sella

London and New York

First published in 1992 by Routledge 11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2005. “To purchase your own copy of this or any of Taylor & Francis or Routledge’s collection of thousands of eBooks please go to www.eBookstore.tandf.co.uk.” Simultaneously published in the USA and Canada by Routledge a division of Routledge, Chapman and Hall Inc. 29 West 35th Street, New York, NY 10001 © 1992 Amnon Sella All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilized in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Sella, Amnon The value of human life in Soviet warfare. I. Title 355.033547 ISBN 0-203-99133-8 Master e-book ISBN

ISBN 0-415-02467-6 (Print Edition) Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Sella, Amnon. The value of human life in Soviet warfare/Amnon Sella. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-415-02467-6 (Print Edition) 1. Soviet Union—Military policy. 2. Life. 3. Soviet Union—Armed Forces—Medical care—History– 20th century. 4. Prisoners of war— Soviet Union—History–20th century. 5. Battle casualties. I. Title. UA770.S46 1992 355.1′29′0947–dc20 91–18072 CIP

Contents

1

2

List of figures and tables

vii

Introduction

viii

The Soviet Military Medical Service

1

Introduction

1

The history of the Service

1

The Military Medical Service after the Revolution

6

The first tests of fire

12

The Molotav-Ribbentrop Pact—an interregnum

19

The composition of the Military Medical Service

23

The performance of the Service during the Great Patriotic War

31

Introduction

31

Medical theory under fire

33

Reorganization and coordination

41

The Air Force

55

The Navy

56

Medicine and voluntarism on the home front—the ‘rear’

57

Women’s health

59

Disease and epidemics

60

The policy of medical staff replenishment

63

Assessment of Soviet casualties in the Great Patriotic War

64

v

3

4

5

An assessment of Soviet medical treatment

71

The contemporary Military Medical Service

78

The Soviet attitude to POWs

87

Introduction

87

The changing attitude to the status of POWs

88

The legal legacy of the Soviet Armed Forces

91

The Soviet Government’s wartime attitude to its POWs

94

Order No. 270

96

Analysis of the effects of Order No. 270

98

The attitude on the battlefield

101

The diplomatic struggle during the war

106

The situation towards the end of the war

112

The roots of the Cold War

116

The Vlasov case

118

POWs on the international agenda after the war

123

POWs in Afghanistan

124

Fighting at all costs

127

Introduction

127

Military experience after the Revolution: discipline and morale through education

131

Morale and discipline in the Great Patriotic War

146

An assessment of the Soviet attitude to the cost of fighting

163

A new strategy for the 1990s and beyond

167

Conclusion: the value of human life in Soviet warfare

179

The fire power/manoeuvre component of the equation

180

A behavioural observation: the rationale of fighting armies

185

Compassion and the utilitarian approach

188

vi

Notes

191

Bibliography

209

Index

219

Figures and tables

FIGURES 1.1 Features of provisions in the rear for mountain-desert locations 2.1 Casualties per month: an average percentage for World War II

28 68

TABLES 1.1 The growth of the Soviet defence budget 1933–40 1.2 Evacuation of sick and wounded—infantry 1.3 Evacuation of sick and wounded—armoured forces 1.4 Structure of the USSR Ministry of Defence Central Military Medical Administration 2.1 Hospital and medical personnel provision—western districts (1941) 2.2 Proximity of medical facilities to the front 2.3 Number and percentage of wounded evacuated by air in certain operations

11 12 13 24 38 45 53

Introduction

Of the many ways to evaluate the price of victory two are perhaps more prominent than others: the moralistic and the utilitarian. The moralistic approach deals with the justification for wars and with the obligation of the State towards protection of the citizen and the obligation of the citizen to defend his country. At the logical end of this argument lie problems of pacifism and conscientious objection. However, pacifists and conscientious objectors form only a minority and countries in the midst of war attempt to face the moral dilemmas involved as best they can, or not at all. Every war has left its imprint on individuals, groups and nations. The accumulative process of learning is the collective memory of human kind which is in turn the basis for ethics in international relations and a generator of international law. In response to compassionate entreaties and for reasons of expediency, elaborate ethical conventions were solemnly signed between belligerent countries to reduce as much as possible the pain and suffering of war. The utilitarian (the word is not used in its philosophipcal meaning) proach does not deal with the rights and wrongs of waging wars but with the best way to do so in order to achieve victory at the minimum cost to human life. Despite the fact that military logic differs from the diplomatic in that the latter is for ever looking for the best compromise and the former for the quickest way to break the enemy, every military establishment is saddled with utilitarian problems. Scarcity of human resources, cost-effectiveness of using manpower where fire power can be put to a better use, the attitude to soldiers who have become prisoners of war as well as the morale and the discipline of the troops, all these and several more may be classified as utilitarian problems. However, they usually also involve value judgement. Over the years there has been more than one reason to question the moralistic as well as the utilitarian approach of the Soviet Government to the value of human life: the brutality, the arbitrary use of the judicial

ix

system to persecute innocent people and the ‘purges’ which were the hallmarks of the Stalin period. The background to the ‘purges’ is important because three years— 1936–1939—of senseless murders and arbitrary lawlessness cast doubt on the judgement of the Soviet Government in moral matters and in questions of life and death. The aim of this book is to find out whether the Soviet Government conducts war differently from other countries. Has it been impervious to the suffering of its soldiers or to the loss of life among the troops during times of war? Has it been reckless in the use of human resources when there was a choice between manpower and other means of warfare, say, firepower and manoeuvre, or was it prepared to throw in more troops rather than give up space and time? It is one of the assumptions of this book that there is a correlation between space, time, firepower/ manoeuvre and human lives and that these elements may be calculated as an equation. An attempt will be made to find out whether the Soviet authorities paid attention to this equation. The book is divided into four chapters and a conclusion: 1 The Soviet Military Medical Service; 2 The performance of the Service during the Great Patriotic War 3 The Soviet attitude to POWs; 4 Fighting at all costs. The general concept is that through a careful analysis of the subjects mentioned above it is possible to develop a theory about the Soviet attitude to human lives in warfare. It is assumed that the attitude has changed over the years and as a result of different circumstances in an evolutionary process that can be traced methodically. The aim is to look at quantifiable elements as much as possible, along two lines of comparison; a comparison of the performance of the Soviet military machine at various times, and a comparison of it with other armies. The value attached to human life in the context of this book is analysed with a special emphasis on the utilitarian approach, or to put it another way the price of victory in Soviet warfare, namely, given a choice, how many lives is the Soviet Government prepared to sacrifice in order to achieve a military goal? Has it developed any conscious procedure to assess the number of casualties under given circumstances? Is it possible to prove that it chose one alternative and not the other? However, human life is assessed in many ways under civilian as well as under military circumstances. Insurance companies

x

for instance have to evaluate human life according to the severity of the injury or in a case of untimely death. In the latter case the life that the victim might have lived is evaluated. Sometimes the attitude of a government to the value of human life may be inferred from the amount of compensation it is prepared to pay to victims of an accident. All these considerations do not count when it comes to the evaluation of a military mission, be it a defence of a position or a breakthrough in a line of defence. Military establishments are not generous in their information about the cost-effectiveness of a military operation, nor indeed is it easy to fathom the plethora of reasons behind decisions that were taken in the heat of a raging battle, or preceding a crucial battle of possible strategic significance. The Soviet Military Medical Service was chosen as an appropriate subject for discussion for several reasons. In the first place it provides the analyst with a manageable subject of research; although a subordinate service, it relates to all branches of the Armed Forces; it is a service that saves life, takes on the burden of looking after the wounded and the ill from the combat commanders in the field; and at the same time it is not a fighting service and therefore it adds to the tail rather than to the teeth of the fighting Army. The development, the history of allocations and the resulting performance of this service provide the analyst with criteria to measure the attitude of the authorities to the value of human lives in warfare. Prisoners of war form an important area for discussion because Russia, and later the Soviet Union, was instrumental in bringing about many improvements in the attitude of governments at war to POWs, for instance, Russia in 1907 and the Soviet Union in 1949. It is also important to examine this subject because lately there has been a painful process of soul searching in the Soviet Union regarding the fate of Soviet POWs who were liberated by the Red Army or repatriated to the USSR after the end of the Second World War. This soul searching resulted in a change of heart with regard to the POWs in Afghanistan. The phenomenon is interesting because the attitude to repatriated POWs has changed over the years. There was a warm and spontaneous welcome to repatriated POWs after the Great War, which by any stretch of the imagination could not be considered a victory for the Russian forces; there was a cold and brutal welcome to the repatriated POWs after the Great Patriotic War which ended as a victory, and, again, a warm welcome to the POWs who were lucky to return from Afghanistan. The ethos of fighting at all cost is significant because the demand on soldiers to sacrifice their lives against hopeless odds differs between

xi

armies. No military establishment will admit that the demand is anything less than complete readiness of the individual soldier to put his life on the line for the sake of his country. However, governments behave in different ways when they have to make concrete decisions. The whole idea of deterrence is based on the idea that governments cannot suffer innumerable casualties. An analysis of Soviet behaviour on this score may provide a clue as to the attitude of the Soviet Government, when it is put under pressure, to the value of human life. The factors mentioned above, the connection between space-timefirepower/manoeuvre-casualties; the passive attempt to contain the tide of casualties by medical means; the implications of hasty retreats, namely, the drop in morale and the many soldiers who surrender; the need to restore order and maintain morale which brings about harsh discipline and the use of the ethos of heroism and the spirit of fighting at all cost; all these factors together create many contradictions in the conduct of warfare. For instance, the need for exemplary behaviour on the part of officers was incompatible with the need to save the lives of these same officers whose ranks suffered particularly heavy casualties at the beginning of the Great Patriotic War. It was not at all easy to make a retreat that was as costly as possible to the enemy while the war industry was still in the process of evacuation. In the attempt to echelon the Medical Service, there were many organizational bottle-necks, which were paid for in human lives. Combat experience provides a testcase for many of the issues listed. These can be better studied and understood in a dynamic form, in comparison with other armies and in a time perspective. A great deal of information can be gleaned from Soviet war memoirs, a great deal more from Soviet histories of the war. German sources are of course a priceless source. Analogies with other military machines are useful. I have also had recourse to the great amount of material published about the war in other countries. I have refrained from discussing the ethical meaning of the value of life in warfare. This is for the following reasons. Many works have already been written about the subject and I shall refer to them when necessary. I could not find a way to distinguish between the utilitarian attitude towards human life in warfare, that is, the endeavour to save as many lives as possible in order to keep the military machine going, and saving lives because of humane considerations. Moral values will nevertheless be dealt with when they are relevant and throw light on the themes discussed.

xii

Chapter 1 The Soviet Military Medical Service

INTRODUCTION The purpose of this chapter is to examine the development of Russian military medical care and the evolvement of the Russian Red Cross and Red Crescent as a semi-voluntary service with strong Christian sentiments but under powerful State influence, as indeed the Church itself was under the old regime. This semi-voluntary service was a complement to the Military Medical Service proper. It is suggested that the over-organization of the Red Cross and the poor medical legacy of the Czarist regime were not conducive to a proper treatment of the wounded and ill in the many tests of fire that faced the Soviet Union. The purpose of the chapter is also to examine the development of the Military Medical Service, to analyse its learning process and to draw conclusions about the attitude of the Soviet authorities to human lives in warfare. THE HISTORY OF THE SERVICE Over the centuries millions of soldiers have died on many battlefields as a result of shock, neglect, ill-treatment, wrong treatment, lack of treatment, illness and epidemics. Although there were hospitals, there was little organized care and only a few military doctors and medical orderlies tended the wounded and the sick on the battlefield. Armies were raised to fight for their commanders’ glorious dreams, soldiers were paid to risk their lives for the whims of rich warlords. The soldier was necessary but dispensable, valuable as part of a fighting machine but of no use as a human being. Many aspects of modern social life were beginning to take shape in the 18th and 19th centuries: Nationalism, Socialism, the ideas of the

2 THE VALUE OF HUMAN LIFE IN SOVIET WARFARE

Welfare State, public health and international military conventions. The change of attitude toward the military also took place in this period. The military that used to be a private tool at the hands of a ruler or a commander became a State organ. As such it became part of the social contract between State and citizen. The process was of course slower under the autocratic regime of Russia, but even there at the beginning of the 19th century one could hear some faint voices of freedom. Two forces were struggling in an attempt to preserve or modernize the structure and operational procedures of the future medical service: the conservative power of the State, which was unwilling to introduce any changes in the organization of the Army, but had eventually to bow to the demands of modern warfare; and the compassionate power of caring people. The Russian military as an organ of the State adopted a utilitarian approach to sick and wounded soldiers, who were cared for by volunteers for whom the Army supplied transport and some facilities. Beginnings of military medical care in Russia Like many European and non-European countries Russia became an Empire by force of arms. The Czars fought many wars. Of the seventy years (1613–1682) between the accession of Czar Michael and the death of Czar Fedor about thirty abounded with wars, at times simultaneously on several fronts. The Czars were faced with the problem of how to deal with the military wounded and sick and the Court responded to the needs in its own slow and inefficient way. In 1647 an imperial decree was promulgated to the effect that every military unit, the size of a company, must have a doctor (lekar•). In 1654 the first school for military doctors was established and the first class graduated in 1658.1 Until this date all the military doctors were foreigners. The first military hospital was established in Smolensk in 1655, during the war against Poland. Several others were established in Moscow during the wars with Turkey.2 The first school could not cope with the growing demand for medical personnel and in 1707 Peter The Great promulgated a decree to establish in Moscow a regular military hospital with an adjacent military medical school. This was the Moscow General Hospital, now called the Main Military Clinical Hospital in memory of N.N. Burdenko.3 Soon afterwards similar hospitals were established in St Petersburg and in Kronshtadt. However, the need for medical care continued unabated: in the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries the percentage of casualties of all the participants in wars was 20 per cent, 15 per cent and 10 per cent respectively.4 Much more organizational work was

THE SOVIET MILITARY MEDICAL SERVICE 3

required before care for the wounded and the sick would become adequate. At the beginning of the 18th century (1716) field regulations were established to facilitate medical service in the Army. A barber (tsirulnik) was assigned to a platoon, a doctor (lekar•—a medical practitioner of a low professional rank, usually a village doctor in prerevolution Russia) to a company and at the division level there was a doctor (vrach—a medical doctor with a professional diploma from a respectable medical institution), a staff doctor (shtab-lekar•) and a chemist with a field outfit. The lessons of the Crimean War It was the misery of victor and vanquished in the Crimean War which brought about some of the urgent changes in care for the wounded and the sick that laid down the foundations of the modern Military Medical Service in Russia. In many respects the Soviet Military Medical Service is a continuation of the Russian. The State was slow in accepting the idea of medical care for war casualties. The civilian and military establishment introduced the utilitarian consideration, 5 namely, that the more one cares for the soldier the higher the morale, the higher the fighting spirit; that the more one saves human lives, the more resources one can rely on for the continuation of the war. The element of compassion, voluntary help and humanism was introduced by a combination of two services, one old and one new. The old service was initiated by Christian care for the needy and miserable, in the form of Christian associations of Sisters of Charity (Sestriy miloserdia); the newer service was the Russian Society of the Red Cross. Although the old service had already been active as early as the 12th century, it was first established in Russia in 1844 and first operated to care for war casualties in Russia during the Crimean war. In 1854 the Great Duchess Elena Pavlovna established the Society of Sisters of Charity of the Holy Cross particularly to care for the sick and wounded of the war. It may have been the Court reaction to public unrest in the face of the terrible state of the Military Medical Service,6 or to the dependence of the Government on the good will of the public at a time of war. It is typical of the second half of the 19th century that the public, i.e. peasants’, response to the Government call to enlist was a peculiar mixture of voluntarism and demand for land and freedom.7 As a result of the initiative of the Great Duchess many women left their work in hospital infirmaries and went out to the battlefields. About 250 Sisters of Charity were operative on the fronts during the Crimean War. The Government


on its part was almost oblivious to the suffering of the sick and wounded. Even straw for mattresses was scarcely available.8 The first initiative towards the creation of the Russian Red Cross was taken by Fraulein M.S.Sabinina who was joined by Baroness Frederiks (who was very close to the late Czar Nikolai I) and two doctors of the Court F.Ya.Karell and P.A.Naranovich.9 The Czar confirmed the establishment of the organization on 3 May 1867 under the name Society for the Care of War Wounded and Sick. In 1879 its name was changed to the Russian Society of the Red Cross. The moving force of the Society was General-Adjutant Michael Petrovich Kaufman. He paid particular attention to the training of female medical orderlies.10 Owing to his efforts some 3000 women were trained. From 1868 on, the efforts of the two societies were combined. In 1869 the Ministry of the Interior established institutes for the training of male and female medical orderlies. These institutes drew their personnel from what was to become the Society of the Red Cross, whose first community was established in Moscow in 1868 before it became a national society. Russia contributed to the war between Prussia and France in 1870, 34 medical doctors, money and equipment. The intensive training enabled the Government to dispatch to the fronts of the Russian-Turkish War of 1877–78 about 1000 medical orderlies. However it is quite obvious that the Ministry of War was not very generous in subsidizing the operations of the Red Cross nor was it very efficient in organizing its own Military Medical Service.11 In 1869 the Russian Army introduced for the first time medical orderlies and stretcher-bearers. In 1877–78 in the divisional medical station there were no more than 83 beds, five doctors and no means of transportation. The evacuation point was about 50km beyond the front line and the time between injury and evacuation was 2– 4 days.12 Until the end of the 19th century the Military Medical Service in Russia developed along State and voluntary lines, combining rigid organizational forms with a great deal of voluntarism and good will. Some sections of the population were more forthcoming than others, either because as minorities (the Germans) they saw in their voluntarism a way of absorption, or (the nobility) because they could afford to be altruistic, and as good Christians and patriotic subjects they saw it as their duty to volunteer for the benefit of the public. At the turn of the century then, we can see the main features of the Military Medical Service of the Russian Army. A liaison, even if not a very happy one, was established between the State and the public, but the military service proper could not solve many of the structural and organizational


problems which were vital in dealing with large-scale war. One of the most vulnerable links was that of transportation. The ‘code of military decree’ of 1869 reorganized the Medical Service, paying special attention to the problem of evacuation from the battlefield to the rear. It made use of the existing railways, the main means of communication then and now. Along the railways there was a chain of aid points and hospitals, but the railway system was poor and did not cover the whole country, nor did it provide reliable and consecutive connection between many parts of the huge country. (A note should be made of the pioneering work of Baron Dominique Jean Larrey who invented the ambulance.13) The turn of the century The Russo-Japanese War was the first test for the Russian Military Medical Service in the 20th century. Several things had changed since the last wars of the 19th century. Casualties were no longer lumped together as one big problem for the Army administration. Distinction was made between light and serious injuries as well as between the slightly sick and the very sick. The Army provided each soldier with a personal bandage (Asepticheskii paket•) and encouraged mutual aid among the soldiers.14 Although during the 19th century there had been some modest attempts at a more human attitude to mental patients, attention was first paid to psychiatric casualties during the Russo-Japanese War. About 2000 soldiers were evacuated for psychiatric treatment: in 1904–50 officers and 227 other ranks; in 1905–201 officers and 961 other ranks; and in 1907–7 officers and 516 other ranks.15 In 1880 the Ministry of War issued a decree to open a psychiatric department in the Moscow Military Hospital with 45 beds, 10 for officers and 35 for other ranks. In 1897 the number of beds was doubled: 35 for officers and 55 for other ranks. In 1905 there were 160 beds: 35 for officers and 127 for other ranks. In March 1915 the military medical administration together with the Red Cross instructed the Moscow Military Hospital to allocate 200 beds for mental patients for the duration of the war. After the Revolution and during the years of the Civil War the situation in the psychiatric departments of military institutions deteriorated and did not improve until the mid-1930s.16 The Russo-Japanese War saw the beginning of a problem that was to bedevil the Service throughout the First World War and well into the Great Patriotic War. The active Army at the front wanted to rid itself of


the care of casualties as quickly as possible. Therefore it was ready to allocate some of its means of transportation for that purpose. On the face of it, it was a humane attitude but it also turned out to be an inhumane killer. Some of the wounded and the sick after lying in the open or in primitive shelters for many hours, sometimes days, were hurled onto wagons and still without any treatment were rushed to the rear. It was the epitome of the military bureaucratic approach. It was also the pinnacle of that lethal division of labour between the military machine and the voluntary forces. The medical lessons that were drawn from this war and from the First World War infiltrated only too slowly the administrative labyrinth, i.e. that the whole process should be master-minded in one centre and be directed by one command. No wonder that the morale of the troops was so low and the rate of mortality so high. In the Russo-Japanese War the combined loss on both sides was 139,000 soldiers (the Japanese lost 88,000) of which 40,000, that is 28.7 per cent, died of illness.17 According to one source 1,811, 000 Russians died in the First World War, 240,000 of whom died of their wounds (13 per cent).18 Other sources quote different figures for Russian casualties, from 5,350,000 down to 775,000.19 According to many sources however, more Russians died in the First World War than soldiers of any other nation. Later, when the Main Administration of the Military Medical Service (GVSU) was reorganized in 1939, the statistical basis for its operations was the data of the Medical Service of the First World War. The general division of the casualties was 55 per cent wounded and 45 per cent ill due to poor battlefield conditons, lack of food, etc.20 THE MILITARY MEDICAL SERVICE AFTER THE REVOLUTION The Soviet Government inherited the Military Medical Service and the semi-voluntary organization, the Red Cross. We shall deal presently with the Service but it was typical of the first years after the Revolution that the zeal for nationalization was detrimental to the more voluntary organizations. Later however, as in the past, the Soviet Government had to resort to the good will of the population in many respects including that of care for the wounded.21 In the view of the new Government the Red Cross Society was a ‘stronghold of counter-revolution’. According to a decree of 6 January 1918, its property was confiscated and a committee was created to reorganize it. During the Civil War and the war with Poland, the Soviet Government made use of the Geneva


Convention of 6 July 1906 and the Hague Convention of 18 October 1907 and announced its recognition of the international emblem of the Red Cross on land and at sea.22 On 20 November 1918 the first assembly of Red Cross members was called and the Soviet Red Cross was established.23 The new Government also mopped up the remnants of the Kerensky Government in view of the fact that the Central Medical-sanitary Soviet created by agreement of the Kerensky Government consists of representatives of medical organizations [zemski—elective district councils in pre-revolutionary Russia], towns and others—who take anti-Soviet positions…the Soviet of People Commissars declares: 1. to abolish the Central Medical-sanitary Soviet.24 In the revolutionary tradition of those days all the administrativemaintenance staff of the Moscow Military Hospital was changed. The officials and the officers that were considered to be harbouring antiSoviet sentiments were dismissed and a Soviet was elected in which the medical staff was represented together with the wounded and ill.25 It is probably impossible to estimate the effect of motivation and good will on the performance of the Service and on the morale of the troops. It stands to reason though that the more professional the organization involved, the more efficient may be its general output when left to its own devices and initiative. Consequently, the amount of good will and initiative lost when the State superimposes its administration on a professional voluntary organization may be greater than if the organization is less professional. Since so much depended on the good will of voluntary medical aid, any reduction of motivation had to be compensated for by meticulous organization, which came about far too slowly and was always lagging behind the demand. The conception of Soviet health as it found expression in the programme of the Communist Party in its 8th Congress, was as follows: the State is responsible for the health of the population; the State operates through one organization which renders medical service to everyone free of charge.26 However, the road towards this goal was long and meandering. Even before the October Revolution there were beginnings of medical aid in the Red Guards organization that was preparing for the take over. One of these was the Medical Orderly Department of the Military Revolutionary Committee of the Petrograd Soviet, which was headed by Dr M.I.Barsukov. In the process of reorganization of the different ministries the new Government


established medical colleges in the main ministries (People Commissariats). In January 1918 all these were united under the name of the Soviet of Medical Collegiate.27 This Soviet became eventually the main administration of health in the State and in the Army. In February 1918 a Council of Medical Departments was established in Petrograd and on 11 July 1918 the People Commissariat for Health was established. It was headed by Dr N.A.Semashko and the deputy Commissar was a military personality Z.P.Solov•ev.28 Solov•ev was one of the founders of the Soviet Military Medical Service and the first chief of the Main Military Medical Administration. He devoted much of his attention to the problem of the rampant epidemics which came in the wake of the Great War, the Civil War and the near collapse of the economy.29 His efforts in this direction proved useful in later periods as well. Scarcity of medical personnel One of the main problems of the Red Army at the beginning and well into the 1920s was the scarcity of professional cadres. The greater the professional differentiation the more difficult it proved to enlist people into the new Red Army. Any attempt to improve the professional standard of the officer corps came up against the divided loyalty of the Czar’s officers, many of whom detested the idea of the Revolution and chose to fight against it in the ranks of the White forces. No less an obstacle was the ideological animosity of the revolutionary leadership to the very idea of the military establishment and in particular to the officer corps. The needs of the Civil War, however, and the precarious position of the new Government dictated otherwise. In 1918, Trotsky overcame the objection of many in the Party and managed to enlist 22, 000 officers of the old Army into the Red Army, of whom 2,500 were medical and veterinary personnel (11.3 per cent of all those enlisted). In April 1919, at the height of the ‘Intervention’, when Kolchak and Denikin were in full swing, the situation at the front grew so desperate that the Defence Council had to enlist high ranking officers who had served in religious positions: All the officers who have been accepted recently to serve in churches and religious cults of all denominations, as well as those who joined monasteries, are also subject to the call for active service on the same grounds as the other high ranking officers in the ranks of the Red Army.30


The number of these officers grew to 28,410 of which 4,395 were medical and veterinary staff (15.4 per cent).31 Even though the figures above do not represent the whole medical corps, the number of professional medical personnel in the Red Army was not very large. All in all between June 1918 and August 1920, 214,717 former noncommissioned officers of the old Army and 26,766 of the lower medical and veterinary personnel (12.4 per cent) enrolled in the Red Army.32 The situation regarding hospitals and equipment was also desperate. In 1918 there were only 20,000 beds in hospitals whereas in 1920 their number had grown to 400,000. The state of personal hygiene was abominable. There were almost no bath-houses and laundries in the Army, and even in 1920 the capacity of the bath-houses was only 100, 000 a day, whereas the size of the Army at that time was 5,500,000.33 The oretically speaking a soldier could take a bath only once in several weeks. On 7 April 1919 the Defence Council called to active service ‘all medical students at universities and other high medical institutions, no matter to which faculty or course these students belong, must report for duty at the front no later than April 15.’ This drastic measure had to be taken ‘in view of the especially difficult situation of medical affairs on the front-line, in connection with the spread of epidemics and the enormous losses of medical personnel’.34 The situation evidently did not improve because on 7 May, Lenin and Sklyanskii had to sign another decree to the effect that those doctors of medicine and medical personnel ‘who have not fulfilled the orders regarding their dispatch to the front in time…will be immediately subject to trial before a militaryrevolutionary tribunal’.35 Owing to losses and the growing need for medical staff the Defence Council decided to hold a census of all medical personnel. It was an all inclusive census—medical doctors, orderlies, dentists, chemists and Red Cross personnel.36 The census may have helped in the long range planning of medical care for the front-line and rear but the sanitary situation deteriorated to such an extent that on 24 August 1921, a Soviet of Work and Defence was established to improve the sanitation of the units in the barracks.37 Naturally, the situation improved after the Civil War ended. However, the problem of epidemics continued to bedevil the Commissariat of Health and the Army throughout the years of the Civil War and the 1920s despite ‘subbotniki po bor• be za chistoty’ (Saturdays devoted to cleanliness) and ‘nedeli ochiski’ (weeks devoted to cleaning)38 and despite a ‘campaign of vaccination’. This ‘campaign’ was aimed in particular at babies, people who spent time in closed institutions, soldiers and sailors, gaolers and inmates. In the Moscow


Military Hospital, which was renamed on 30 December 1918, the First Communist Red Army Military Hospital, most of the staff was immunized against cholera and typhus (some died nevertheless either before the immunization or because they were away at the time, or yet again, as a result of negligence).39 However it seems that not everybody gave heed to this good advice. Lenin—the Chairman of the SNK, Semashko—the Health Commissar, Bonch-Bruyevich—the Coordinator of the SNK and L.Fotieva—the secretary of the SNK, had to sign a decree warning that such organizations and personnel that would not be vaccinated would be brought to trial.40 It was not yet time for long range planning, that was to come later with the First Five Year Plan. For the time being the State at large and the Army were suffering from the devastating results of war and revolution, while the Civil War was still on and war was raging with Poland.41 The Red Army’s recovery after the fall of Kiev (6 May 1920) was quick and the reprisal swift and brutal. Yet, the Poles did fight and their retreat, although it was fast, did not turn into a rout. As a result both armies suffered many casualties. By this time the Military Medical Service was better organized than during the terrible first months of the Civil War, and was including care for soldiers who suffered from shock. Apparently the Military Medical Service departments that treated battle-shock were not in excellent shape.42 Reorganization after war and revolution The authorities simply could not ignore the health situation in the country at large and in the Army in particular.43 Lenin signed more than 200 documents dealing with health affairs.44 Two factors contributed to the slow recession in epidemics between 1923 and 1927: improvement in the agricultural sector brought about a rapid increase in the per-capita consumption of food and a growth in expenditure on medical care.45 The Red Army as well as the Communist Party elite and the railway workers enjoyed special medical care,46 and military medical personnel fared perhaps a little better than the rest of the population.47 A joint effort of the Revolutionary Military Committee and the Commissariat of Health produced several convalescent homes in the Crimea and the Caucasus with 1,200 beds. From 1925 on such institutions were built in the Military Districts and by 1940 there were 11,400 beds in these homes.48 The upheavals of the First Five Year Plan threw the health system into turmoil again. On the political level the Commissar of Health


Table 1.1 The growth of the Soviet defence budget 1933–4052

Semashko was replaced at the beginning of 1930 by M.F.Vladimirskii who combined pre-revolution medical qualifications with postrevolution GPU, Sovnarkom and Gosplan practice. Collectivization resulted in poor harvests in 1931–2 and a deterioration of food supply for urban and rural areas.49 The medical schools could not cope with the crash programme to create more doctors and medical staff and they were consequently forced to admit students without proper qualifications and to shorten the period of training. The number of graduates indeed grew but the standard of medical education was drastically reduced. (The number of doctors in the USSR increased from 63,219 in 1928 to 76,377 in 1932.50) The state of health in the country as a whole could not fail to affect the Army as well although the Army struggled with somewhat different problems. The ‘Regulations of the Military Medical Service of the Red Army [Military District]’ was published in 1933, but some significant changes were initiated in earnest only with the reorganization of the Red Army in 1935. In that year the Service received its first mobile X-ray (Röntgen) unit and bacteriological laboratory, according to plan. The year 1935 also saw the beginning of delivery of standard cars for both the civilian and the Military Medical Services.51 The new ideas with which the Army had to grapple in the tests of fire ahead found expression in the form of a medical battalion which combined first aid, evacuation units and anti-epidemic units. In 1936 the medical staff of an army (armiya) included an independent mobile company and a mobile field-hospital. However, both the delivery of standard cars for the Service and the establishment of X-ray units and laboratories left much to be desired, as the approaching tests of fire were soon to prove.


The Red Army enjoyed a windfall from 1933, with the beginning of the rise in the defence budget, until 1937, when the dark years of the ‘purges’ in the Army began (see Table 1.1). The rise in the defence budget was congruous with the sense of threat which had been caused by the ascendancy of power of Hitler. Had it not been for the wild ‘purges’ the USSR would have been much better off at the beginning of the German onslaught, but even as it happened the rise in the budget was a blessing. THE FIRST TESTS OF FIRE Although the Red Army defeated its enemies both in the Far East and in the Winter War there were many deficiencies in the preparations of its various branches including the Medical Service.Along with other branches of the Armed Forces an intensive effort was invested in an attempt to systematize the work of the Medical Service. According to the field regulations it was obvious that the intention of the Red Army was to bring the Service as close to the front-line as possible. Not all these regulations were helpful nor was there any recent combat experience to Table 1.2 Evacuation of sick and wounded—infantry


be guided by. The tests of fire of Khalkhin-Gol and the Winter War, terrible as they were as far as casualties were concerned, were nevertheless an experimental laboratory for military medicine. Tables 1.2 and 1.3 testify to the Medical Service’s effort to bring medical facilities as close as possible to the front-line. Such proximity facilitated the treatment of the wounded and the ill who could not move as a result of traumatic injury. This raises two questions: how significant is it for the welfare of the wounded and the ill to receive first aid as soon as possible, and how successful was the Service in implementing this policy? The answers to these questions may give us a clue as to the value of human life in Soviet warfare. Table 1.3 Evacuation of sick and wounded—armoured forces53

The war at Khalkhin-Gol One of the first tests of fire preceding the German onslaught of 1941 took place between May and September 1939, in a remote place on the disputed border between Mongolia and Manchuria along the KhalkhinGol River. The Medical Service of the Special 57 Corps had only Battalion and Regimental Medical points. There were no independent medical battalions and no mobile field hospitals, field regulations notwithstanding. In the deep rear of the battlefield there were only two hospitals, one in Ulan-Bator (200 beds) and one in Bain-Tumensk (80 beds). The distance between these two and the battlefield was 1000km and 500km respectively. At the beginning of the war the Soviet forces were at a great disadvantage. Not only did the Japanese enjoy the advantage of initiation but they also enjoyed much shorter


communication lines.54 At the beginning of the crisis the Soviet High Command did not realize how far-reaching the Japanese intentions were and how grave the results of a defeat could be. When eventually the alarm was sounded in Moscow it still took over a month before forces could be mobilized and transported to the battlefield. Meanwhile the Japanese enjoyed air supremacy so that the incoming forces were able to spend a long time digging in and camouflaging their positions.55 According to regulations the medical units should have been located at a given distance from the battle line (see tables 1.2 and 1.3) but in 1939 kitchens did not yet form an organic part of the medical units. As a result under the pressure of Japanese air raids and the need to disperse, the medical units had to share kitchens with other rear units, which were located further from the battle line than stipulated in the field regulations. The same thing happened to the transport units whose constant movement and concentration around the medical points attracted the Japanese fighter-planes. However the inadequacy of the medical units on the battlefield formed only part of the shortcomings of the Medical Service at the time. There were far graver ones. There was an acute shortage of surgeons in the Far East. In Mongolia there were no skull and eye surgeons at all. A State Commission in the area of the Khalkhin-Gol River prepared a report for the Commissar of Defence, Voroshilov, enumerating many deficiencies in the conduct of the Armed Forces in the area, including the Medical Service. The recommendations of the head of VSU (Main Medical Administration) were to send to the area some top specialists from the Kirov Academy of Military Medicine. When these recommendations were approved by the Commissar of Defence they did not only improve the medical treatment of the sick and wounded but they also turned the whole battle area into an experimental laboratory of military medical treatment. Since the lives of the wounded, who arrived at the hospital, depended first and foremost on the proficiency of the surgeons, a specialist surgeon (Professor Akhutin) was sent to Mongolia in the first half of June to serve as surgeon-consultant. The Russians also prepared for a worst case and sent over a specialist in bacteriological warfare. Although the worst did not occur the situation was bad enough with 3, 500 wounded and sick by July, of which 2,603 were evacuated to the Zabaikal Military District (MD) where the capacity of the two hospitals in Chita and Ulan Ude was only 600 beds. General of the Army Zhukov, Commander of the 1st Army Group of Forces (formerly 57th Special Corps) prepared his major offensive for 20 August.56 Both preparation and date were kept under a heavy veil of


secrecy, not even the Medical Service was informed. Only on 29 August did the Service receive an order from B.M.Shaposhnikov, the Chief-of-Staff to dispatch at all haste 11 surgeons to Irkutsk, 11 to UlanUda and 9 to Chita. This belated order was the result of a misconception and bad coordination. The Command of the 1st Army Group had in mind only the narrow outlook of its field of operations and it counted on a speedy evacuation of the sick and wounded to the rear. It did not take into consideration the situation beyond its field of operations. The error happened despite the fact that in Chita was the Front Command of the Far East, where Commander of the Army 2nd rank G.M.Shtern and the Head of the Medical Service Military Doctor 1st Rank S.V.Viktorov, had it within their authority to correct the mistake. Only on 26 August, that is seven days after the beginning of the operation, did Shtern notify the C-o-S that in the whole area of the Zabaikal and Siberian MDs there were only 1,758 free beds. Since the beginning of the offensive there had already been 5,000 wounded, 80 per cent of which were evacuated to Mongolia. One of the weakest links in the Medical Service system of the Far East during the War at the Khalkhin-Gol River was transportation. The area of operation, front-line and rear inclusive, was huge and the communication network poor. In reality in an emergency only air transportation was of any value. Even so only two types of aeroplanes could be used, the TB-3 heavy bomber (Antonov-6)57 and the Sovietmade Douglas.58 Both were limited in their passenger carrying capacity but the Douglas was faster than the TB-3. The TB-3 could carry 12–14 badly wounded people and the Douglas 18. Five TB-3s were put under the command of the Medical Service in the Far East and from midAugust they were joined by three Douglas aircraft. The Service had to work within many constraints. The TB-3 flight-time from TamtsagBulak hospital to Chita was seven hours and since the Japanese enjoyed air supremacy the planes dared to fly only at night In other words the TB-3 could make one sortie a day and the Douglas two. Under such circumstances the evacuation of about 5,000 wounded was a long process. Evacuation by car was well nigh impossible. Most available cars were extremely limited in their capacity. The roads were poor and the wounded could hardly take the punishment of a two-day trip from the evacuation hospital at Tamtsag-Bulak to the rear hospital at BainTumen. Although the basic principle of medical treatment stage by stage was sound, it called for precise planning and for a balanced distribution of medical personnel and means of transportation at each


stage on the road between the battlefield and the medical aid points. Any mistake in the medical concept, in planning or in the deployment of forces could be detrimental to health or even fatal to the wounded and the sick. According to the Medical Field Regulations at the time (1939), preparations were made to deal with a break-down of 55 per cent wounded and 45 per cent sick, however from the beginning of hostilities (28 May) to armistice (15 September), there were about 10,000 dead and wounded and only 2,225 sick soldiers, who needed hospitalization, that is about 12–15 per cent of the total. Neither staff nor transportation could cope with such proportions and they had to rely not on available forces in the area but on the Military medical Main Administration and on the Ministry of Health of the RSFSR, which between them sent to Chita during the conflict 200 medical doctors (of which 61 were surgeons). The Winter War The armistice with the Japanese was signed on 15 September 1939, about a fortnight after the beginning of the Second World War and about a month after the conclusion of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact. The war with the Finns started in November 1939 under conditions that were far more convenient for the Red Army. However, the beginning of this war was utterly disastrous for the Russians. It is doubtful whether any of the lessons of Khalkhin-Gol were applied there.59 Yet, some of the deplorable deficiencies in the Medical Service were corrected either as part of a general development or because the VSU had a freer hand. Medical battalions became part of the Medical Service as well as mobile hospitals. Still, the mainstay of the Service remained the lower echelons: medical orderlies, stretcher-bearers, medical assistants (feld• sher) at the company level and the battalion doctors, one level higher. About twothirds of all the wounded were carried to the battalion and the regimental medical stations by stretcher-bearers. The lightly wounded and the ill who formed about a third of all casualties arrived at the medical stations on their own. There was no land transportation with which to evacuate the wounded. On the one hand this fact helped to reduce the number of casualties, in particular amongst medical orderlies and stretcher-bearers, but also amongst the wounded, because the movement of stretcherbearers to and fro was less conspicuous than the movement of ambulances would have been; on the other hand the time factor, under the hostile climatic circumstances of the battlefield, must have been lethal for many of the seriously wounded.60


It seems though that one of the main problems of previous wars had not yet been solved: the correct proportion between hospitalization preparation according to regulations on the one hand, and according to the idiosyncracies of a particular war and a particular environment on the other. The number of beds for specialized types of operations and treatment in Army or Front hospitals (GBA, GBF respectively) did not change from the first period of the Winter War—October to December 1939—to the second period—December to March 1940—despite the experience which had proved that the proportion of beds was inadequate. During the period of diplomatic wrangling between the Soviet and the Finnish Governments, when the crisis was approaching its climax no medical contingency plans were made for a possible clash. Thus, for instance, one of the clearing stations of the evacuation hospital (EG No. 1170) had only two small first aid rooms; it had neither an X-ray unit nor a clinical laboratory. Although some of these deficiencies were corrected during the war and under the pressure of a persistent stream of casualties, several organizational problems remained unsolved. At the beginning of hostilities there were difficulties in accommodating five bus-loads of wounded, by 8 December tremendous efforts were needed to accommodate two trainloads, but by the end of December the same hospital was able to accommodate 1,300 wounded at one time, although some of them had to make do with stretchers instead of proper beds. It should be noted that by the end of December Army Group No. 7 had suffered only 26 per cent of its total casualties; most of the casualties it suffered during the last push between 11 February and 13 March 1940 (64.6 per cent).61 Towards the time of the last push which ended the war (between 11 February and 20 March 1940), the Service overcame some of the organizational difficulties by making a better distinction between three departments: 1 a clearing station; 2 a section for the lightly wounded; and 3 an evacuation section. However, all these improvements fell short of the operational needs either because they came too late, or because the authorities, that is the Commissariat for Health, the Commissariat for Defence and the General Staff would not face up to the basic need to enlarge the overall capacity of hospitals. The fact that there was only one railway route leading from Petrozavodsk to Volkhov only exacerbated the organizational rigidity of the system. The frequent communication between the Head of VSU and the authorities— Zhdanov in Leningrad, Mekhlis in his capacity as Head of MPA (Main Political Administration), the Commissar of Health, the Commissar of Defence and the General Staff—were to no avail. A report about the


recent experience in Khalkhin-Gol submitted to the Head of MPA started a very complicated procedure. This involved the DeputyCommander of the 8th Army (Komkor V.N.Kurdiumov), and the Party Secretary of the Region (G.N.Kuprianov). The latter was very anxious to ascertain that his contribution would not entail great expenditure. The Military Soviet of the 8th Army provided the light and the heavy inventory of the hospital, the VSU the professional medical personnel and the instruments, and the Obkom (Region) the buildings and the medical aids. At long last the Leningrad Red Cross helped by sending nurses and orderlies who were undergoing courses, but who had no hospital experience, as well as several doctors. By the end of January the Evacuation Hospital in Petrozavodsk had a capacity of over 4000 beds instead of the 350 provided at the end of December 1939. Khalkhin-Gol and the Winter War—a summary In summing up the two tests of fire that the Service underwent before the Great Patriotic War one significant factor emerges: despite the difference in time available for preparations and the difference in logistics and terrain there were alarming similarities between the performance of the Service on the two occasions. In both cases the authorities were caught unprepared, not only on the battlefield but also in the rear, where there were stationary civilian as well as military hospitals. The organic medical units were undermanned and poorly equipped, far below the standard stipulated in the field regulations. In several Armies only 16.5 per cent were regular military doctors, the rest were the less experienced reservists. As a result the diagnosis on many occasions was wrong with fatal consequences.62 In both the wars the military machine was unprepared for the task assigned to it and in the front line and rearguard the Medical Service was no exception. It is impossible to prove that the operational part of the military machine was functioning better than the medical part. The fact is that the operational system creaked as much as the medical system and both had to learn the hard way. On both occasions the time factor operated to increase the number of casualties, with the time elapsing between the beginning of operations and the beginning of smooth operation of the Medical Service exacting a lethal price. In neither case was there indifference towards the fate of the wounded and the sick, on the contrary, many people devoted much thought and energy and indeed sacrificed their lives in an attempt to save lives. The medical staff of one regiment (No. 329 of the 70 Rifle division) which


had seen battle from the beginning to the end of the Winter War, can serve as an example. Its casualties numbered 7 dead, 14 wounded, 1 battle-shocked and 3 ill, among the senior orderly staff. Among the junior orderly staff there were 22 killed, 50 wounded, 4 who suffered battle-shock and 13 ill. The whole medical staff of this particular regiment had to be replaced twice in three months. The Service was not elastic enough in its initial organization at the beginning of operations and the High Command (military and civilian) was not adaptable enough as the operation went on and the number of casualties multiplied. In both the Khalkhin-Gol operation and the Winter War transportation proved to be a vulnerable link. During the Winter War 13.1 per cent of all casualties were carried by orderlies; 17. 9 per cent on stretchers; 16.5 per cent on sledges (volokusha); 11.5 per cent on ski and 41 per cent on tanks. On many occasions during the war in Khalkhin-Gol tanks had to be used to carry the wounded in order to protect them against machine-gun fire. The problems of air evacuation in Khalkhin-Gol have been analysed at some length. During the Winter War just over a quarter of the evacuees were evacuated by airplanes (27. 9 per cent of all the wounded of the 9th Army).63 It is important to note that the problem of transportation is still one of the hardest to solve in modern armies even today, with the war in Vietnam being perhaps the only exception that proves the rule. The magnitude of the problem is emphasized by the fact that in the medical handbooks before the Second World War it was stated that two-thirds of all wounded are usually able to arrive at first aid stations on their own, whereas war experience in the Khalkhin-Gol and in the Winter War proved that only one-third of the wounded were able to do so. THE MOLOTOV-RIBBENTROP PACT—AN INTERREGNUM Both tests of fire which were the topic of the previous discussion were connected with the growing Soviet unease about the German threat The problem of when exactly Stalin decided to make a deal with Hitler has been adequately dealt with by several authors.64 The discussion is still raging as to the question of whether Stalin believed in the Pact he signed on 23 August 1939 and to what extent he believed that Hitler would not attack the Soviet Union. The assumption in this book is that Stalin knew that sooner or later there would be a war between Germany and the USSR and that the country was preparing only too slowly, with much ambivalence for the wrong type of war. The war at the Khalkhin-


Gol River was fought with such ferocity in order to diminish, or better still, to prevent the dreaded possibility of war on two fronts, one in the west and one in the Far East and to gain some tactical advantage around the negotiation table with Germany. The Winter War was, on the one hand, made possible by the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, but on the other hand was designed to create a ‘cordon sanitaire’ between the Soviet Union and Finland which was considered to be a possible ally of Germany and to have control of some strategic areas in and around the Finnish Gulf. Faced with the consequences of these two tests of fire and the background of Germany’s dazzling successes in Europe, the Russians were truly baffled. With growing trepidation, as the diplomatic dialogue between the USSR and Germany reached a dead end, the time for reckoning had arrived. The time from March 1940, after the end of the Winter War and the first six months of 1941 were spent in attempts to correct the many shortcomings that were revealed during the two wars. There was a reshuffle at the head of the Defence hierarchy when Timoshenko took over from Voroshilov as Commissar of Defence, the dual command was abolished once more and a new disciplinary code was enacted. However, the most important conclusions were drawn at the December Conference where about 60 commanders of the Armed Forces were assembled by invitation of the Commissar of Defence for a thorough discussion of the state of defence of the realm. This conference was compounded by a further high powered meeting in January 1941 where a complicated and rather alarming war game took place. The result of these hectic activities was a further reshuffle of the Soviet High Command when Zhukov became the Chief of the General Staff. His nomination opened the way for application of the lessons of the war at Khalkhin-Gol which until then had been conveniently shelved and for correcting the incorrect decision of 1939 regarding the structure and assignment of the armoured forces. In line with these deliberations, the Medical Service also had a great amount of material to consider. In order to do that it held its own conferences, one in April and one in December 1940. During these conferences past experience was examined and an outline of future operations was worked out. Past experience and preparations Although the medical conferences based their deliberations on vast past experience starting from the First World War through the war at


Khalkhin-Gol and the Winter War and including the conclusions of the first period of the Second World War, one of their main constraints was the sharp shortage in medical personnel in the Soviet Union. Such conclusions as could and should have been drawn on strictly professional grounds were impractical in light of the establishment of medical forces, in particular the lack of medical personnel with some combat experience. That is to say that even if the future war with Germany could have been envisaged it would have been impossible to provide for all the medical needs with the available medical staff. Although the nature and the size of the coming war were not foreseen the main thrust of the deliberations of the conferences turned out to be not how to provide the units with the best medical care, but how to make the best use of the available doctors and nurses. Thus, for instance, rifle battalions that used to have a doctor according to regulations were assigned a doctor’s assistant (feld• sher). Several tasks that had been carried out by doctors in artillery regiments and in special battalions which formed part of divisions, were also assigned to doctor’s assistants. The conference of medical personnel in the Leningrad Military District took place from 7–10 April 1940 and was highly coloured by the Winter War. Many of the participants, medical doctors, administrators and specialists, 37 people in all, took part in the war. These people were also the discussants in the conference. They were rifle battalion doctors and senior regimental doctors, all those who carried the burden of field treatment during the war. They knew how inadequate was the professional education of quite a few of the medical personnel, how many diagnostic mistakes had been made (44 per cent in the first period of the war, 28 in the second and 20 in the third) and how many people had lost their lives or remained invalids as a result. The evening session of 9 April and the morning session of 10 April were limited in the number of participants, and did not include the field personnel. Two main subjects were discussed: the influence of the high medical authorities on the duration of the ‘starting’ (pusk) period in the smooth operation of the field medical institutions and the significance of orderlies, stretcher-bearers and senior orderlies in curtailing the death toll in the rear. In past wars the wounded were not treated under fire, they were left where they were until dark, or until there was a lull in the fighting. During the two wars before the German attack, it was proved that two-thirds of the wounded needed help in arriving at the first aid stations and that help by fellow soldiers reduced the fighting capability of the unit. The conclusion was that the orderlies constituted a critical


link in the line of medical aid and that their proficiency must be enhanced and their number increased. However, in order to reduce the toll of casualties amongst the orderlies there was a great need for more transportation and in particular for armoured vehicles to evacuate the wounded from the battlefield. Most interesting were the reports of the three chiefs of the Medical Service of the three armies that took part in the Winter War (D.N.Verkhovskii of the 7th Army, I.A.Kluss of the 8th Army and M.M.Gurvich of the 9th Army). The Chief of Medical Service of the 9th Army was at variance with the Chief of GVSU (Smyrnov) regarding the necessity of a doctor at the medical battalion level and the necessity of a hospital at the level of the division. He was so adamant in his views about the combat value of the medical battalion that he recommended the removal of all women from these formations, even operation theatre nurses. Basing his report on the experience of his own Army he also emphasized the need for evacuation airplanes. In his Army 27.9 per cent of the wounded were evacuated by air. There was also some difference of opinions between the Chief of Service of the 8th Army and his superior officer. The 8th Army Medical officer wanted to retain the doctor at the battalion level and the hospital at the division level. Moreover, he believed that for a better treatment of the lightly wounded the specialized personnel and the equipment at these levels should be increased. The Chief of the 7th Army drew attention to the need for better registration and statistics about the medical treatment, to which there was a general consent There were other views pro and con, but the conclusion drawn by the Chief of GVSU was crystal clear: ‘We must reduce the number of doctors at the troop level, no matter how much we try to prove the opposite.’65 At the end of the April conference Smyrnov (Chief of GVSU) was nominated to head a committee which had to put into operation the most important conclusions of the conference, as follows: a) To pull out the regimental shower-bath installations and the disinfection cabinet b) To abolish the separate post of medical doctor at the troop level. c) To withdraw hospitals from the establishment of the division. d) To include in the development plan a company with more professional medical personnel and better equipment. e) To establish a hospital for lightly wounded soldiers.


Only the first three were actually carried out before the war with Germany. Some other decisions of the same committee were implemented only after the beginning of the war: details were organized to bury the dead; the number of medical doctors in battalions and regiments was reduced; the number of medical battalions was increased; and the number of mobile hospitals was increased. Noteworthy is the decision about burial details. In most armies, dealing with the dead and the burial ritual are relegated to religious authorities, coopted by the military to become part of the military system. The countries that solved the problem by cooption did not interfere with the religious rituals themselves, they simply clad religious ministers in uniforms. The Soviet Union wanted to uproot the Church, to diminish its position in society and to replace religious rituals with State ceremonies. In 1925 there were about 39,000 churches in the Soviet Union, in 1985 only about 8,000; sacraments, such as baptism at home, were forbidden. There was no intention to deprecate the value of human life and the reverent emotions surrounding the rituals of death and burial, but there was an administrative interference in some innermost, perhaps atavistic cultural codes. Although atheism, which was forcibly propagated for several decades, had an effect, it did not replace the need and the yearning of many people and could not serve as the sole answer to many anxieties. Even at the period of violent campaign of repression against religion, many believers still found ways to practise their faith. Thus, assigning the treatment of dead soldiers and the ceremonies of burial to the Medical Service bereaved the process of its traditional symbolic value, ‘for it is within the hidden depths of each individual’s intellectual and moral exigencies that a new worldconception (mirovozrenie) is evolving’.66 Religion is not the only way of providing meaning to life, but it is probably the oldest means to be perceived as such. The violent Soviet attempt to find some new meaning to life has not proved to be an undisputed success. Later, during the war and in particular during the years of perestroika there were many complaints against the authorities, military and civilian alike, with regard to disrespect for the dead and for replacing individual sorrow and feelings of bereavement by collective glory and heroism. THE COMPOSITION OF THE MILITARY MEDICAL SERVICE This history of the Service has brought the analysis up to the eve of the Great Patriotic War. This section will deal with the composition of the


Service, starting from 1941, and with developments and reorganization during the war. The analysis will also deal with the establishment of forces in the Service in particular units and in general. A considerable amount of experience had been accumulated in previous engagements of the Medical Service and some thought was devoted to organizational issues before the beginning of the war. However, when Germany attacked, the situation became so fluid that flexible solutions were needed for ever changing problems. Not unlike the situation in the combat military chain of command there was an immediate need to partially establish and furbish the Medical Service chain of command. In peacetime the Medical Service authority was divided between the Ministry of Health, the Ministry of Defence and the VTsSPS (the All Union Central Council of Trade Unions). The Military Medical Service was a department of the Ministry of Defence (TsVMU MO SSSR—The USSR Ministry of Defence Central Military Medical Administration—UMDCMMA). In wartime the Administration was put in charge of the medical service in the Armed Forces (see Table 1.4). Table 1.4 Structure of the USSR Ministry of Defence Central Military Medical Administration

The first reorganization, pertaining to the position of the Service in the chain of command, took place nine days after the beginning of the war. Until the outbreak of war the rear services were under the command of Marshal Kulik, Deputy Commissar of Defence. The NKO (Commissar of Defence) order (1 August 1941) subjugated these services to a newly established separate system, the Rear Command (tyl). Two further orders followed: the first (11/8/41) established the VSU RKKA (Military Medical Administration of the Red Army); the second (Order No. 275, 17/8/41) emphasized that such administration had been established and it was now called GVSU RKKA (the Main Military Medical Administration of the Red Army).67 This order, however, could not erase the fact that the needs of the immediate front were different


from those of the deep rear. In order to delineate the lines of authority there, the GKO (the State Defence Committee) advised (22/9/41) that all the evacuation hospitals located at the country’s rear would be transferred to the Ministry of Health. This reorganization also entailed the reallocation of resources. The Ministry of Health took on the burden of financing all the hospitals under its auspices, that is the non-military establishments and all the hospitalized wounded and ill soldiers. The Ministry of Defence carried the burden of financing the allowances of these hospitals, namely clothes and food. From 1942 onward the Ministry of Defence also financed the following items: preparation of means for chemical warfare; provision for soldiers of means for water purification; first aid outfits; procurement of mobile X-ray units; procurement of mobile laboratories; procurement and repair of medical supplies (stretchers, tents, blankets, sleeping bags).68 The Service was obviously unprepared to deal with the task at hand. As already discussed (see p.) personnel and facilities were in short supply. The general aim of saving life was never lost sight of but the way to attain it was not at all clear. The first deployment of the Service was based on the experience of the Winter War.69 It is noteworthy because during the December 1940 Conference this experience had already been proved defunct.70 However, there is no proof that the medical lessons were also put to the war game test Each division of any given Army had three medical aid posts (DMP) and an Independent Reinforced Medical Company (ORMU-IRMC).7l After receiving first aid on the battlefield the wounded were transferred to the second station, the Mobile Military Hospital which was also reinforced by a Medical Company (ORMUIRMC). This post also served as a Casualty Clearing Station and it was therefore equipped with means of transportation and furnished with a mobile surgical unit The reserves of the Army Medical Service Commander, consisting of a mobile field hospital, a mobile surgical unit, an ambulance and two IRMCs (Reinforced Medical Companies), were located at the farther rear of the Army. The rear was presumed to be connected to a railway system leading even farther into the rear, where the Army and the Front base hospitals were located. Between the immediate rear and the farther rear the Main Evacuation Post was located. This schematic system was obviously unsatisfactory because in 1942 the system changed a great deal. Not only did each of the armies have its own base hospital in 1942 but also the immediate rear of the Army was reinforced by an Auxiliary Evacuation Station. The front-line’s rear was


divided into first and second echelons, thus enlarging the overall capacity of the available hospitals. Although this was the standard there were many variations. During the battle of Moscow the Army and the Front base hospitals of the Kalinin Front were located at a distance of 400–450km from the front-line and had therefore to be echeloned. The hospitals of the West Front were not echeloned because the main medical institutions of the Front were not so far away from the fighting troops.72 This scheme did not change much during the war.73 However, by the end of the war the mobile surgical unit had become a fully equipped Mobile Field Surgical Hospital. A great deal more attention was paid to the critical diagnosis and sorting out of the wounded in order to lift the burden from the deep rear or the Home Front hospitals. Sifting out of the wounded according to the gravity of the injury and the type of treatment needed became established. Both Army and Front deployed hospitals for the less seriously wounded and ill and also therapeutic hospitals for treatment of shock and for psychological treatment of the maimed who had become invalids.74 This main system varied considerably according to terrain, availability and the changing situation on the front. A fine example of this may be found in the deployment of the Medical Service on the rear of the Zabaikal Front in 1945, on the eve of the Soviet attack on the Japanese forces.75 Figure 1.1 reflects the establishment of forces according to Red Army regulations during the war and not necessarily the situation on various fronts. For instance by 1 July 1941 the Medical Service on the Western Front could deploy only 15 per cent of the establishment of forces allocated to it before the war. By 1 August 1941 only 40.1 per cent of the mobile hospitals, 52.2 per cent of the mobile surgery units, 48.8 per cent of the mobile orderly companies and 44.8 per cent of the field evacuation stations were deployed. These percentages are in proportion to the original plan which by then must have fallen short of the demand. There were three other reasons for the shortage of medical aid on the fronts: (a) the impact of the industry evacuation to the East; (b) failure of the pharmaceutical industry; and (c) shortage of financial allocations. Evidently the production fell dramatically while the pharmaceutical industry was in the process of evacuation. Later on, despite increase in the financial allocation to medical needs the demand was always higher than the supply. Even in 1944 the industry could supply only 57 per cent of the Medical Service demand. This failure led the Service to look for other sources, like local production, secondary use and economizing. Since the beginning of the offensive and the advance of


the Red Army outside the territory of the Soviet Union, the Service had also used captured equipment.76 The basic medical unit in the field was the medical battalion (Medsanbat). This unit was attached at the beginning of the war to every division. The medical battalion was subdivided into companies which were either part of a field hospital or assigned to particular undertakings in the operational area of the division. On 16 August 1941, the establishment of professional personnel, (that is, specialized workers like doctors and surgical nurses and not orderlies or stretcherbearers) in the medical battalion was put at 17, most of whom were doctors (8) and medical nurses. However on 28 September 1941, the number of professional staff was reduced. As in all aspects of war allocations the number of professional personnel in the medical service was a combination of available human resources and the demands of the battlefield. The larger the turnover of combat units, the more medical units were formed with less and less professional staff. The attempt to compensate for the reduction in number of personnel by greater mobility was only partially implemented. For instance, in July-August 1941 the 18th and the 20th Armies of the Western Front had only 40 and 50 per cent respectively of their motor-car force. At the end of December 1941 Mobile Field hospitals (PPG) were standardized with an establishment of 76 people, including 6 doctors and 18 surgical nurses.77 When the Armoured Army was organized as a regular unit of the Red Army at the beginning of 1942, it included in its establishment one Mobile Field Hospital, one disinfection unit, two field laundries and a mobile depot of medical stores. Two surgery field hospitals were added to the above in 1943 as well as one independent disinfection unit, one anti-epidemic unit, a mobile orderly company and a field depot of medical stores. The number of All-Arms Armies towards the end of the war was nearly 40 on average. Each of these Armies included eight mobile field hospitals. A field hospital with its six surgeons could deal with about 70 operations a day. That figure does not take into consideration fatigue of the personnel or emergencies of non-medical character, and is based on an assumption of at least 20 minutes per operation. According to Soviet calculations the surgeons of a medical battalion could deal professionally with about 200 wounded and ill a day.78 Among the tasks of the Medical Service were also security of the medical units in the field and medical patrols into liberated or occupied territories to look for traces of epidemic diseases. Once a strong link was established (in November 1942) between the Service and the combat operation it was


Figure 1.1 Features of provisions in the rear for mountain-desert locations Source: VIZ 9, 1988, p. 39.

the duty of the Service to take action no later than the combat units and to prepare the installations for the anticipated number of casualties. Registration of the patients as well as accountancy and supply were also among its duties.


The Soviet Medical Service underwent a tremendous transformation during the war in its attempt to adapt to unforeseen conditions with far less than adequate personnel and equipment. The changes in the Service chain of command and in organization and structure were certainly very opportune and clearly improved the treatment of the wounded and ill during the war. The crucial questions regarding the adequacy of the measures taken and the possible capability to achieve more even under the circumstances, will be dealt with in the following chapter.

30

Chapter 2 The performance of the Service during the Great Patriotic War

INTRODUCTION Space-time-fire power/manoeuvre-casualties, this formula, which can also be expressed as an equation or a series of equations, is the essence of strategy. War is a taxing effort in the course of which both sides must, invariably, pay a price for any move, right or wrong. However, to some extent each variable in the equation can be traded off against another. It goes without saying that heavy losses in all four variables would result in a defeat. It is not at all easy to predict the breaking point of a fighting party. It depends on the amount of punishment that an attacking party can deliver as well as on the capability of those at the receiving end to sustain the blow. Before the nuclear era it made a qualitative difference whether or not a country at war, had strategic depth because space and time, then, were exchangeable. The number of casualties which may constitute a crisis depends a great deal on the culture of a given society and on the nerves of a given government Although the staggering number of casualties suffered by the Red Army during the war may create an impression of reckless waste of manpower and of impregnable insensitivity to the toll of casualties on the part of the Government, the many reorganizations and the improvement of the Medical Service should cause us to question this impression. The above equation, in one form or another, was well known to the Soviet High Command before the beginning of the war. However, the shock of the war widened the gap between conceptual understanding and operational medical application. The first offensive of the war, so meticulously planned by the Germans, came to some sectors of the front as a complete tactical surprise and to others as an operational surprise, depending on the level of commanders and the ferocity of the attack. In the first stage of the war the Red Army had to relinquish ground and

32 THE SERVICE DURING THE GREAT PATRIOTIC WAR

suffered many casualties. During the first few weeks of war there were many disorderly retreats and unauthorized surrenders. However, even during these desperate first months of the war many units fought gallantly and made a priceless contribution to the stabilization of two of the three German prongs of attack: the Northern and the Central Fronts. When the fronts around Leningrad and Moscow became relatively stable, a planned strategy began to emerge following the principles of the equation, namely, to relinquish ground only through stiff resistance in order to gain the time necessary to build up fire/manoeuvre power sufficient to turn the tide. With no coherent plan and under pressure of relentless attack by a formidable Army, the costs of relinquishing ground and gaining critical time were not calculated, nor were they always communicated to the troops in an orderly fashion. The calculated relinquishment of space in exchange for time eventually became an organized defence which caused the Germans heavy casualties and completely disrupted their timetable. Gaining time was also necessary in order to start planning, in order to translate the enormous potential of the Soviet Union into an effective defence and, later, into an effective offensive. In other words, the absolutely decisive need was to harmonize manpower and equipment in the military machine, a harmony that could only be achieved by careful planning. It was necessary to calculate the optimal ratio of the All-Arms Army, by a thorough grasp of the climate and the terrain and by insight into the nature of tactical, operational and strategic superiority. Once the connection between space and casualties, under the special circumstances of the war, was comprehended, two strategies were worked out to deal with the havoc wrought by the German onslaught and by Soviet unpreparedness: an active strategy, namely—surrender territory at as high a cost as possible to the enemy; and a passive strategy —preserve the fighting capability of combat units and save the lives of as many of the wounded and sick as possible. Theoretically speaking, at the beginning of the Great Patriotic War the Soviet Military Medical Service already had considerable experience even though it may have been rather vague about the war at hand. It had not as yet solved even the crucial problem of medicine by the book or medicine by experience. The first is based on the statistics of past experience concerning the expected number of casualties for a day of war; the second is based on daily trial and error, an interminable struggle to adjust capacity to demand, that is, to prepare enough beds and personnel in hospitals for any possible number of casualties. The first approach is of course more formal and rigid concerning the

THE VALUE OF HUMAN LIFE IN SOVIET WARFARE 33

allocation of hospitals, personnel, medication and means of transportation. On the other hand it is easier to implement. The second approach is far more flexible, but it also demands a high and sophisticated level of organization, an intimate understanding of the battlefield and a close-knit relationship between the military and the medical command. The deployment of the Medical Service left much to be desired even in peacetime, let alone when the German surprise attack disrupted any order and threw the country, civilian and military alike, into utter disarray. The disarray resulting from this attack was manifest in the scale of priorities. For a military commander under attack the first priority is to attend to the battle in progress, for the medical service it is to save as many lives as possible. Casualties are always a burden and a nuisance to the military commander in the field and it is the task of the medical service to help the military commander by removing this burden. Nevertheless the medical service presents an intrusion of yet another subordinate system in what in war is so often a chaotic schedule. Even as late as the battle of Moscow, months after the first shock waves of the stunning German attack were supposed to have subsided, the Kalinin Front’s hospitals, which had been loaded onto railway wagons, had to wait for weeks because the railway system was monopolized by troops and combat equipment trains.1 At the beginning of the Great Patriotic War then, the Medical Service as a subordinate system suffered more punishment than was inflicted on the Soviet system in general, even if only because its work started when that of the combat elements of the military machine ended. In the first place, part of the Service manpower functioned as regular soldiers while the battle was in progress, doubling as medical staff. Their kit and equipment slowed down their movement, made them conspicuous and attracted enemy fire. The Service coordination with the combat command was far from perfect and deteriorated even further in the chaotic circumstances of the beginning of the war. It also suffered from a yawning gulf between a commitment to take good care of the wounded and a clear perception of the necessary measures required to carry out the job. MEDICAL THEORY UNDER FIRE In order to understand the performance of the Service during the war we need to analyse three factors:


1 The situation on the battlefield; 2 The inventory of personnel and equipment; 3 Perception and organization. The situation on the battlefield At the beginning of the war more than at any other time, the lives of the wounded were dependent on three factors: the instinct for survival, mutual help and the devotion of the junior medical personnel. With regard to the instinct for survival it is sufficient to note that each of the wounded individually fought for his life or resigned himself to his fate, according to the seriousness of his injury and his physical and mental resources. During the Great Patriotic War 5.9 per cent of all the wounded used their own means (first aid kits or other means) for first aid treatment.2 Many more of the wounded either could not or would not help themselves and were dependent on the help of comrades (32.3 per cent during the war).3 Unlike the first case though, military authorities looked askance at mutual help because it reduced military capabilities in units that suffered many casualties. At the very least four soldiers are needed to carry a wounded man even for a short distance. Under fire there are always volunteers who will willingly carry a comrade to safety, if only to be away from the front line for a little while. At the beginning of the war only a few units were spared many casualties. Out of 170 divisions which were deployed along the borders (or not deep inland) in five Military Districts at the beginning of the war, 28 (or 16 per cent) were completely knocked out and over 70 (41 per cent) lost half their manpower and equipment.4 Strict orders were given to leave the wounded to the care of the professional personnel. Indeed, 53 per cent of all the first aid was given by medical orderlies and stretcher-bearers, only 6.2 per cent of the cases were treated by a unit doctor and a mere 2. 6 per cent by a battalion doctor’s assistant (feld• sher).5 The devotion of the medical orderlies and the stretcher-bearers was apparent in the large number of casualties among them. This devotion was duly acknowledged by the authorities when the junior medical staff was generously showered with medals and citations.6 However, the recommendation of the Central Committee which became a decree (No. 281) of the Commissar of Defence (23 August, 1941)—‘The procedure of award to orderlies and stretcher-bearers of governmental citations for good combat work’7—included not only the wounded soldier but also his weapon. Under the decree a retrieval of 15 wounded with their rifles or sub-machine guns won the order of ‘Military service’ (Za boevye


zaslugi•) or of ‘Courage’ (Za otvagu), 25 wounded, the order of the ‘Red Banner’ and 80 wounded, the Order of Lenin; the Soviet branch of the International Committee of the Red Cross bestowed the medal of Florence Nightingale.8 Indeed several orderlies of the Medical Service received such medals during the war. At a later stage of the war some orderlies also received the highest medal of ‘Hero of the Soviet Union’, sometimes posthumously.9 In total 52 members of the Medical Service received this medal: 35 men and 17 women; 23 died in battle and 29 survived the war.10 It should be remembered that Soviet industry at the time was in the process of evacuation to the east and industrial production was rapidly deteriorating. The need to save even hand weapons was pressing, but the combination of saving lives and weapons simultaneously could not have been conducive to the welfare of the wounded.11 Another difficulty arose after the decision to cut the number of orderlies and stretcher-bearers was enforced in the critical years 1941–1942.12 At the same time the regular personnel in a Medical Service battalion (Sanbat) was also curtailed by 17 people (16/8/41). In September (28/9/41) there was a further reduction in each medical battalion of one senior nurse, one junior surgical nurse, one assistant doctor, three medical nurses and three senior orderlies. All in all there were four reorganizations of the medical battalion during the war, as a result of which the size of the battalion was reduced from 253 to 90 people, the number of doctors from 25 to 12 and the number of surgeons from 15 to 8. In retrospect it seems to some Soviet observers that although it was impossible in peacetime to prepare for the number of surgeons needed for wartime, it was wrong not to specify the needs for the duration of the war. The result was a typical distortion of statistics. General practitioners were operating in place of the missing surgeons, just in order to keep the number of operations performed by certain types of hospitals to the norm of 70–80 per cent of all patients.13 The idea that had been mooted before the war of creating a reserve unit of surgeons for emergency cases was dropped at the beginning of the war and resurfaced only towards its end. Orderlies and stretcher-bearers of all armies carry the double burden of combat heroes and symbols of humanism. During the Great Patriotic War they proved indispensable because usually between 50 and 60 per cent of all the wounded could not move from the front-line without help. Although immediate first aid may make the difference between life and death, or at the very least between permanent invalidism and possible recovery, the carriage capacity of a human being is limited. Carrying


wounded from the front-line imposes further constraints as a result of enemy fire and the condition of the wounded. Walking speed of a detail carrying a wounded soldier cannot be higher than 2–2.5km/h. The detail must rest for five or ten minutes every 300–500 metres.Consequently, each wounded soldier needs more than one detail to carry him from the front-line to the closest medical aid station. Attempting to plan the carriage capacity of stretcher-bearer on the basis of combat experience, the Red Army concluded that each stretcher-bearer detail may carry up to 11 wounded a day to a distance of no more than 500 metres. Without stretchers, using bare arms or makeshift stretchers, the carriage capacity is reduced by half.14 This data throws some new light on the endeavour involved in the daily routine of an orderly and on the meaning of the medals that were granted by the Soviet authorities during the war. According to these data it seems hardly possible for a human being to carry from the battlefield, say, 60 wounded soldiers or more a day. Thus, the scholar has to juxtapose the heroic tradition of orderlies and stretcher-bearers and the bare statistics based on Soviet calculations, which were issued to the Medical Service as instructions for removal of wounded from the battlefield. The inventory of personnel and equipment At the beginning of the war the number of doctors and medical practitioners in the USSR was far below the demand. The medical staff was not spared when Stalin inflicted his purges on the Armed Forces. Many of the leading personalities perished in the process: the Chief of the Red Army Medical Administration, M.I.Baranov, his deputy B.A.Reiner, his two aides, A.N.Zaraiskii and L.M.Gotz, the heads of the Main Administration departments and aides, the head of the Kirov Military Medical Academy and many more. Thus, at the beginning of the war the potential teachers and the leading personalities in medicine and in the medical administration were either dead or in prison. The Service at the operational level was run by doctors, junior doctors and would-be doctors, but the hard core of leading figures was lacking.15 This was no different to what had happened in the officer corps but the time needed to produce an accomplished specialist in medicine is longer than that needed to produce a military officer. As a result, the quality of the young generation of medical personnel was often below the required standard. Few of the junior medical personnel and especially operation theatre nurses had any military experience. Operationally, distribution of the personnel presented an additional problem. At the end of 1940 the


USSR had 140,796 medical doctors of which 96,000 (68 per cent) were women. Only 28 per cent of the doctors in the Red Army had any training in clinical work or in disease treatment.16 Not all of these were military doctors. The evidence at hand points to the fact that throughout the war there was an acute shortage of medical doctors and other medical personnel. For that and many other reasons an Academy for Military Medicine was established, although somewhat belatedly (20 December 1944). The task of the Academy was to bring together theoretical research and practical work in the field.17 A faculty for preventive treatment was established along with a faculty for officers of the Medical Service.18 Until the war three schools for assistant doctors (feld• sher) in Leningrad, Kharkov and Kiev enrolled 1,600 students each. Together they annually graduated only 2,400 pharmacologists and assistant doctors, a fall-out rate of 50 per cent At the beginning of the war the course was shortened from two years to one. In the academies and the military faculties courses were also shortened. When these steps failed to satisfy, the Party (the Central Committee of the Komsomol) called on the Provinces, the Regions and the Republics to ensure the enlistment of 184,440 girls as volunteers for nursing jobs. A further 79,000 girls were encouraged to attend courses organized by the Red Cross. As in past wars a combination of pressures and appeals to patriotic emotions was used to promote these enlistments.19 The only difference was that in the Soviet period the Party replaced the Church and the Government as an initiator of such appeals. (A contradiction in terms between ‘ensuring’, ‘encouraging’ and ‘voluntarism’ notwithstanding, this is the way in which it was done in the USSR under Stalin. The ‘encouragement’ of the Party does not cast doubt on the readiness of many people to volunteer during the Great Patriotic War.) In 1941 the Red Army had 6, 000 assistant doctors with one year of military service. When the course was shortened, 21,406 graduates were enlisted in the Army immediately (1941) followed by 30,640 in 1942 and 7,376 in 1943. Of the total graduates 86 per cent were women. The situation of hospitals and medical personnel in the western Military Districts at the end of 1940 is set out in Table 2.1. While it is difficult to determine what branch of medicine is the most critical in time of war, conventionally speaking surgeons are in great demand. At the beginning of the Great Patriotic War the Soviet Union had only 12,560 surgeons.20 The breakdown between the military Districts (MDs)and the rest of the establishment of forces is as follows:


Table 2.1 Hospital and medical personnel provision—western districts (1941)

in the MDs there were only 65 per cent of the senior medical staff, according to regulations, and 51 per cent of surgeons. Among the junior staff (feld• sher) the complement was 63.1 per cent. However, the situation in the country in general was even worse. The establishment of surgeons was 41.4 per cent below regulations and the complement of neurosurgeons was 64 per cent below regulations. All in all, the Service was 20,000 people short of the full complement.21 The significance of the breakdown to MD and the rest of the country is that the MDs provided the replenishment of manpower either for combat or for the services. If the state of the reservoir was so bad it could hardly provide the necessary staff for the front. Once war broke out the problem was not only the inadequate supply of medical personnel but also their deployment and the use made of available resources. Perception and organization At the beginning of the war demand and the capability of the Service were not clearly perceived. The forces were either on retreat or else engaged in battle under most difficult conditions. Junior and inexperienced medical personnel had to deal with diagnosis and often, too often, with extremely complicated operations, under terrible, nonhygienic conditions, at times with no lighting and without heating.22 The results were staggering: 44 per cent of cases were wrongly diagnosed at the beginning of the war, 28 per cent during the second period of the war and 20 per cent even towards the end of the war; 40 per cent of the wounded died as a result of shock and loss of blood and


12 per cent died from gangrene. By the end of the war the figures dropped to 26 and 8 per cent respectively.23 For months on end there was no respite. The Medical Service was as harassed as the rest of the military. At the onset of the war medical buildings were insufficient Hence, every available space, no matter how dilapidated, was turned into a makeshift hospital. However, as in the past, the urge was to get rid of the burden and to send the wounded and the ill away from the battlefield, deep into the rear. The first wounded arrived in Moscow on the 26 June, only four days after the German attack, from a distance of at least 700–800km.24 Again, just as in the past—logistics—the weak link in the system, gave way. Several criteria clashed. The desire to send the wounded and the ill to the rear came up against the better advice of those who knew that the lives of the wounded may at times depend on not moving them until they are first stabilized and treated. But even for those wounded whose lives depended upon fast hospitalization there was no immediate solution as the logistic system could not cope with the pressure of growing demand, under relentless German advance and air supremacy. The same phenomenon occurred towards the end of the war, only in reverse. The pace of Soviet advance was so rapid that the Medical Service could not catch up. This was true in particular for armoured armies that advanced sometimes at a rate of 60km a day. Consequently hospitals remained far behind the advancing armies and the organization of the Service was completely disrupted. Soviet doctors knew only too well that the longer the lapse between injury and attendance the greater the medical complications. Within the group of patients who enjoyed medical care half an hour to three hours after injury only 15 per cent incurred complications, as compared to 72 per cent among those who had to wait for more than three hours.25 Soviet sources do not agree as to the time span between injury and hospitalization during the war. Some emphasize the fact that less than 10 per cent of all the wounded had to wait more than three hours for medical attention,26 others note that many wounded and ill soldiers were on the move for hours and sometimes even for days before hospitalization.27 Indeed average figures are misleading. While on different fronts and at different times the wounded and the ill were subject to quicker or slower rates of evacuation and treatment a sober conclusion would be that generally speaking the treatment improved remarkably in the course of the war. As the number of casualties grew, during the first months of the war, and reached heights way beyond the monthly average for the entire war the most logical thing to do was to increase the number of beds and


doctors. Unfortunately both were in exceedingly short supply. Despite the pressing needs of the military machine, and the acute shortage of strategic material at the beginning of the war, medical aid was among the first Soviet requests to the USA.28 The shortage was exacerbated by the evacuation of the pharmaceutical and medical industries to the east.29 In reality the number of beds and personnel declined before it was stabilized and then increased again. Unfortunately, the number of pharmacologists remained almost static throughout the war (7,979 at the beginning of the war and 8,505 in May 1945) and the number of dentists even declined (3,001 in July 1941 2,857 in May 1945).30 In the first five weeks of war the Western Front lost 32 surgical hospitals, 12 hospitals for infectious diseases and 13 evacuation hospitals, all in all 17,000 beds and 40 other medical installations.31 Still, the average is somewhat misleading. From the beginning of the war to 1 November 1944, the inclusive number of beds in all hospitals in the country was 1, 914,130, but 723,675 of these beds were either lost when hospitals were bombed or abandoned, reorganized under different names or transferred to other institutions. Thus only 1,190,455 beds on average were available. In addition 61,400 beds were transferred to the NKVD for POWs. The average is also misleading because the effort must be measured against the difficulties of the times and the development can be appreciated only if note is taken of the grim situation at the beginning of the ordeal. For instance on 1 August 1941 the number of beds in the whole country was 723,800 and on 1 January 1942–1,100,800; in 1943 the number of beds increased by 23 per cent and towards the end of the year it reached 1,641,600. In July 1944 the number of beds was 1,719, 500, the highest during the war.32 In July-August 1941, during the Smolensk operation, the armies of the Western Front deployed less than a third of the medical units and institutions assigned to them by regulations.33 On 2 November the 5th Army and the 16th Army had only two hospitals each with 80 and 400 beds respectively.34 This was immediately after the collapse of the front in Kiev and the arduous withdrawal across the Dnieper. In addition to this one must remember the staggering toll of casualties among the medical staff. In 1941, that is, in less than six months of fighting, 4,400 officers, i.e. skilled personnel of the Medical Service, were killed; 200,000 were killed throughout the war.35 It is not possible to know what the situation would have been if the Western Front had all the medical units and institutions which should have been allocated to it according to regulations. The finding of this study is that such regulations existed and that, gradually, an attempt


was made to implement or to change them according to new needs or newly acquired understanding of the needs. Given the conditions at the time, the preconceptions and the disintegration of so many systems, it is likely that the situation could not have been much better. Many more lives could not have been saved even if the units and the institutions were in position according to regulations. In the garrisons and evacuation hospitals of the Western Front at the beginning of the war there were 35,540 beds.36 On 1 July the number of beds in the active Army was already 122,000 and by 1 August it was 658,000. However, individual fronts suffered more than others because of an acute problem of conception of medical needs which only began to unravel after December 1941. At that time a long process of reorganization began and continued until September 1942. The reorganization incorporated many more beds in existing hospitals but the crucial point was the redistribution of the effort. According to the old concept every hospital and every front had a set establishment of beds and personnel and every combat unit down to a battalion had its medical unit and a set number of medical staff. Under rigid regulations and inadequate transportation, the needs of a given front and the supply of a given hospital were uncoordinated. At one front where fierce battles were in progress, the supply of hospital capacity as well as of available medical staff was not sufficient, whereas a neighbouring front had empty beds and idle doctors. The evacuation hospitals of one front were absolutely jammed while the rear of the same front was waiting for the wounded to arrive. At the beginning of the war little distinction was made between the wounded and the seriously wounded, and throughout the war the sick were not properly separated from the wounded. At the beginning of November 1942, after the GHQ gave instructions to coordinate deployment of military units and medical services, coordination was effected at some cost. Intensive deployment and movement of men and equipment involved the danger of attracting enemy attention. Soviet commanders were not unaware of the risk involved, yet on balance the chance of saving some more lives proved weightier. REORGANIZATION AND COORDINATION The process of reorganization and coordination of the medical service during 1942 involved several developments: 1 A better triage;


2 Reallocation of hospitals; 3 Standardization of medication and treatment; 4 Logistics. A better triage It was imperative to direct the flow of wounded and ill soldiers according to the type of injury and malady. At the stage of diagnosis, when it was possible to do so on the battlefield, it was decided whether a soldier should be moved or treated on the spot. After first aid, the nature and the seriousness of the injury and also the necessary treatment could be determined at some medical station. That process prevented, or at least reduced the clogging of departments with the wrong cases at the wrong time and facilitated streamlining of the wounded. Since the guiding instruction of the Medical Service was to cure the wounded and transfer them back to their units as soon as possible, it was important that the departments should know at an early stage the period of hospitalization. It was also important for the units to know that they could count on manpower replenishment at set intervals. Last but not least, it was important in the process of recovery to inform the injured soldier what was in store for him. The psycho-social texture of the primary group, i.e. family and military unit, is so delicate, that the bond between the patient-soldier, his next of kin and his unit, must be unintermittently cultivated. Indeed, a great deal of political work was carried out in hospitals and it formed part of the convalescence process. Party organs in the hospitals were active in several ways. A great deal of work was carried out with non-Russian soldiers, who were almost always in the minority in any hospital. Their loneliness was aggravated by their physical conditions as well as by language barriers. Special programmes were designed for these soldiers for entertainment, information and political orientation. Reward in all its forms is part and parcel of military life. Many parties were organized for soldiers who were awarded citations and could not receive them in their units. For such occasions the patients were helped in trying to locate their relatives. Letters from families, commanders and comrades in arms were a delight not only to the addressee but also to his fellow patients. A great effort was made to keep up the morale of convalescent soldiers before they were sent back to their units. They were engaged in tactical lessons as well as in technical details of their military jobs. They were also reintroduced to


the field regulations. Last but not least they were given weekly two hours of political lessons. Reallocation of hospitals The first stage of reorganization of the diagnosis and triage of wounded and ill soldiers ended with the logical conclusion to establish hospitals for the less seriously wounded. This conclusion was finally reached at the end of 1941 and put into practice by the end of 1942. On 1 January 1943 there were 250 hospitals for the less seriously wounded (GLR), on 1 January 1944, 263, on 1 January 1945, 293.37 A reallocation of hospitals and beds was under way at the end of 1942, following the confirmation of the Head of the Medical Service (GVSU), of the ‘Instructions with regard to the hospitalization of the less seriously wounded and ill’, his approval of a report on the ‘Situation in hospitals for the less seriously wounded and ill’ and of the ‘Instructions regarding triage and evacuation of the so-called lightly wounded to their assigned medical field service’. The number of beds in the newly established hospitals (GLR) eventually constituted one third of all the beds in the base hospitals of armies and fronts.38 This major subdivision between the seriously and the less seriously wounded and ill helped a great deal in lifting much of the burden at all stages of evacuation. The hospitals for these soldiers provided a major source of replenishment for depleted units. The ordeal at the beginning of the war left no time for delicate considerations. While each improvement contributed to the general effort of life saving, perhaps the most important single development was the reallocation of hospitals to the battlefields, that is the fighting units, the immediate rear and the deep rear. Equally important was the categorization of hospitals according to their function as field, evacuation or rear hospitals. The old system that was changed in 1942 had existed for a long time. The reorganization of 1942 created a better order, which in turn led to new problems. At the beginning of the war the main problem was lack of beds and shortage of medical staff as well as rigid rules of organization. Subsequently coordination became the vulnerable link of the Service. Typical of the first period of the war is the report of Polkovnik G.M.Gurvich, head of the Medical Service of the Western Front: In the whole Front we were left with 32 Surgical hospitals, 12 hospitals for infectious diseases, 13 evacuation centres, 7 triage


centres for sorting and delivery, 3 ambulance companies, 3 medication depots, 3 Army bases’ hospitals of the Command, one evacuation hospital with 17,000 beds and 35 other units and medical installations.39 However, as stated in the introduction to this chapter the more sophisticated approach was more flexible but also fraught with pitfalls. On 28 July 1942 the GKO (High Command) ordered curtailment of the overall number of beds in the evacuation hospitals by about 40 per cent. The decision was based on a report initiated by E.A.Shchadenko, Deputy Defence Minister, (The same Shchadenko who was also partially responsible for the unfortunate decision of 1939 to disperse the armoured formations of the Red Army). This decision brought into sharp relief the constant tug-of-war between the administrative and battlefield approaches. After the euphoria in the wake of the battle of Moscow and the lull in campaign operations, when Hitler was preparing the summer offensive, which led eventually to the battle of Stalingrad, it looked as though it might be possible to reduce the number of beds. It was a mistake of colossal magnitude stemming from Stalin’s misreading of German intentions in 1942. But it was also against the better judgement of hospital deployment which seemed to have had the upper hand by the end of 1941. Acknowledging the dire need for economizing, the Service command went along with the principle of this decision, although not with the size of the reduction in the number of beds. However by 15 January 1943 it became obvious that the July 1942 decision had been a mistake and the Ministry of Health was instructed to return 5,000 beds to the Ministry of Defence. This bureaucratic haggling compounded an already difficult situation.40 After the reorganization, a great deal of flexibility and mobility was introduced into the system, including meticulous planning and preparations, yet the rate of advance of the troops was far beyond the capability of the evacuation hospitals of the front or the front second line (tyl). Even the more mobile field hospitals could not cope.41 When many hospitals, including the mobile field ones, found themselves lagging far behind their units, or cut off by the advancement of other fronts, there was a call for the most complicated refinement of medicine by experience, that is shifting the wounded and ill of one front to the hospitals of another. It involved not only an accurate process of triage but also precise registration and pedantic book-keeping for procurement and supply.42 Even more so than in previous wars an attempt


Table 2.2 Proximity of medical facilities to the front

was made to bring the bulk of the medical facilities as close to the front as possible (see table 2.2 over). According to some Soviet sources by May 1943 the number of doctors was nearly in accordance with regulations: 92 per cent of the number stipulated. However, these figures are at variance with other Soviet sources which quote figures of surgeons as follows: during the Byelorussian Operation they formed between 37.5 and 60 per cent (there were variances in the Armies) of the regular establishment; during the Ukrainian Operation 54–76 per cent and during the Berlin Operation 61.9–69.7 per cent.43 Part of the explanation for these variations could be the lifting of censorship under Gorbachev. During the battle of Moscow, 70 per cent of the wounded were evacuated to the rear, during the battle of Stalingrad the figure was 53.8 per cent and during the battle of Kursk 17.6 per cent of the Voroniezh Front, 28 per cent of the Briansk Front and 7.5 per cent of the Steppe Front casualties were evacuated to the rear. During the battle of Moscow 46 per cent of the ill were evacuated to the rear as compared with only 8. 9 per cent during the battle of Kursk. The meaning of this development is that with the hospitals closer to the battlefield and with more medical personnel and more experience, many more wounded and ill soldiers could be treated on the spot. However, it is worth mentioning that during the battle of Stalingrad it was also extremely difficult to evacuate the wounded and ill from one bank of the Volga to the other. Many medical servicemen lost their lives venturing the hazardous channels of evacuation through the mercilessly bombarded river. An overview of the process of organization and endless reorganizations presents an additional problem. Every improvement in the Medical Service involved additional funds and additional


manpower. During the war the Service became ever more mindful of environmental and individual hygiene and units were allocated to deal with this problem. Nutrition and water purification presented another set of problems. With the growing size of the Army in the field the demand for washing, laundry and disinfection increased. In short, multiplying needs gradually changed the proportion between teeth and tail to the chagrin of combat commanders in the field. Standardization of medication and treatment The Red Army based its method of medication registration on the norms used by the Imperial Army in 1908–9. The first methodical cataloguing started in 1928 but systematic norms were introduced only in 1934. The number of medications mentioned in the catalogue of the Imperial Army was 111, the chart of norms of the Red Army and the tables of military procurement of 1934 included 242 authorized medications and by 1939 this had risen to 259. In the face of many inexperienced medical practitioners and the influx of enlisted civilian doctors there was a need for some discipline and unification of medical methods. The Chief of GVSU promulgated a command to all chiefs of the medical service at the fronts: It was reported that the chief surgeons of the Fronts use methods for treatment of the wounded which are incongruous with our regulations. I order: 1 It is prohibited to use concoction in field military surgery; 2 It is allowed to use innovations only with permission of the GVSU.44 Methods that were in variance with each other had to be ironed out in many conferences and then, in turn, consolidated into a full blooded doctrine. Such doctrines were drawn up during the war in many sessions of the Medical Study Council which met occasionally to sum up past experience and to draw conclusions for the future. At the beginning of the war a compendium of instructions was sent to the medical units (Ukazanyakh po voenno-polevoi khirurgi) in which attention was drawn not only to the execution of strictly medical operations but also to the situation at the front, the number of ill and wounded and the state of their health, the number of doctors and in particular surgeons, the state of transportation, medical equipment, the


season of year and the weather.45 The first conference of the medical staff at the level of a front took place in Yaroslavl in July 1941 but it seems that the main work was taken by the Medical Study Council which met twice in the first period of the war. The doctrine for field medicine was worked out in the fifth plenum of the Council in February 1942. However, up to the end of the war there were no definite regulations for the operation of Army and front in offensive and in defence. Detailed regulations appeared in writing only for tactical operations at the level of a rifle company and corps. An in-depth study of the Medical Service operations during the Great Patriotic War carried out by the Soviet authorities provided ground to believe that many of the mistakes in the order of priorities and in coordination between the chiefs of medical departments, for which many wounded and ill soldiers paid with their lives, originated in the lack of official regulations concerning the effective operation of the Service.46 Trauma and therapy Although therapy had been known in the USSR before the Great Patriotic War, a special study of the subject was taken during the war with many implications for post-war years. Many conferences were organized for therapists during the war. Consequently the experience that was theoretically analysed in these conferences was published in a series of collections for the use of therapists on the front. In the Volkhov Front alone three such collections were published in the years 1942, 1944 and 1945. The Navy published during the war four such collections for the use of therapists. Among many other medical subjects that were under scrutiny during the war, shock began to occupy an important place. Two mobile laboratories were in operation, in particular to study the effects of shock on the internal organs of a patient.47 Particularly noteworthy was the work done in the treatment of shock and trauma. In March 1942 a solution was tested on battle-shocked patients in the emergency hospital of Tashkent. During July, August and September it was tried in various mobile field hospitals at the front line.48 Smyrnov borrowed Pirogov’s expression and dubbed the phenomenon of war ‘epidemic of trauma’. In the light of statistics it seems to be an appropriate name. In the First World War, neurosis formed 60 per cent of all the neuropsychiatric casualties, during the war with Finland it formed 40 per cent. Although there are no figures as yet for the Great Patriotic War, some sources believe that the figure was lower.49 During the first months of the war, before the therapeutic


hospitals were established, 12 per cent of all casualties needed therapy and were hospitalized in separate wards of general hospitals. However, these special wards were soon swamped by the torrents of incoming wounded and lost their therapeutic value. Another aspect of the work of the home front during the war was rehabilitation. Thus, the first therapeutic hospital in the Soviet Armed Forces was established in December 1941 at the Volkhov Front.50 At the beginning of 1942 an experimental hospital for rehabilitation was established in the Ural. In its turn it served as a foundation for a hospital of rehabilitative surgery which was erected by a decree of the Commissar of Defence (5/2/43) .51 The work of this hospital and other departments involved psychophysiology, preparing the incapacitated soldiers to cope with their injuries, in particular after amputations. Psychopathology and psychiatry Armies in general as well as commanders in the field are ambivalent in their attitude to the ‘invisible’ effects of war. An injury soaking the uniform with blood is an obvious incapacity, even contusion and shock have been gradually accepted, but nervous breakdown, psychological disturbances and other forms of disorderly behaviour may be suspicious. A disturbed soldier may be suspected of faking an excuse to shirk his duty. A common derogatory name for a soldier in the Israel Defence Forces with traumatic after-effects used to be (until the Yom Kippur War in 1973) ‘artist’. The praxis of the Red Army in the Great Patriotic War showed signs of the bewilderment of the military at large and the Military Medical Service in particular. They had the experience of the Russia-Japan war of 1904–5 and the experience of the Great War (1914–18), but this past experience left much to be desired. Suffice it to say that by the beginning of the war there was no classification and not one definition of psychogenesis as a cause for emotional disturbances, or illnesses. It is not irrelevant to note in this context that in the British Army ‘several authorities concerned agreed to the publication of a Memorandum submitted by the Consulting Psychiatrist to the Army, which was issued in February, 1942, to all commands at home, and consisted of explanatory notes for psychiatrists’; and that ‘In March, 1943, the Judge Advocate-General’s Branch raised the question of the misuse of psychiatrists’ reports in court-martial cases’. It is also typical of the uneasy relations between the military and the medical services in general and the psychiatrist’s branch in particular that in 1942, in Northern Ireland:


Over a period of six months, the Command Psychiatrist… examined some 50 disciplinary cases:…of the total number, he recommended that 50% be discharged from the Service on account of mental defect or other psychiatric disability and that another 20% be transferred to the Pioneer Corps, but for various reasons, only one-third of the former, and one-fifth of the latter, were in fact disposed of according to his recommendations.52 This comparison with the British Army serves to show that some problems of psychiatry in the army are objective. Of course, each society solves its problems according to its cultural code. The time span between the beginning of the war—1939—and some decisions that were taken in the British Army in 1942, points to the difficulties in comprehension of the task at hand and in finding the right balance between ‘military order’ and ‘individual’s behavioural disorder’. Even in a place somewhat remote from the battlefield as Northern Ireland, military routine had difficulties in implementing the recommendations of psychiatrists with regard to individual’s ‘disorderly behaviour’. In hindsight several Soviet sources define the differences between the study of psychotic disturbances in previous wars and the study of the Great Patriotic War as follows. In the Great War (1914–18) the study of psychogenesis was mainly clinical, whereas in 1941–45 only the main variances of several clinical syndromes were described, such as paranoia, for instance. The main effort of psychiatry was directed at the study of psychogenesis elements as causes for emotional disturbances. This study in turn enabled the study of clinical results of skull and brain trauma. Clinical observations of pseudo-psychogenic syndromes in the clinics for trauma and, in reverse, the pseudo-organic syndromes observed in the clinics for psychological reactions enabled a better study of the damage to the vegetative-motorial system and to the spinal-cord in illnesses of psychogenic origin. During the war and since the problem of ‘constitutional’ versus ‘situational’ or ‘functional’ causes of emotional disturbances has not been resolved. The ‘constitutional’ school of psychiatrists maintains that the potential for emotional disturbance is inherent, while the ‘situational’ school believes that new experiences, or acquired predispositions assume new emphasis in the material gathered in clinics that dealt with post-traumatic effects. The ‘situational’ school prevailed in Soviet psychiatry during the war and afterwards. In general the study of psychogenic illnesses in 1941–45 confirmed the conventional wisdom that the war did not create new psychosis forms,


that is to say that in the clinics no new forms of psychogenic illnesses were observed that had not been known in either war or peacetime. However, the scale of the Great Patriotic War, the means of war, the change of tactics, the rise of traumatic experiences and the colossal destruction could not but have left their mark on the distribution and the number of disturbances. ‘Each war has its peculiar psychogenesis’, and each psychogenesis has ‘its’ diagnosis. Taking cognizance of this fact the war improved the theoretical knowledge of the specialists and the preparation of the different teams that dealt with the phenomenon. By 1944 for instance when the 1st Pribaltic Front prepared its summer offensive, the Medical Service had a pretty good prognosis of the number of casualties involved. The Army and the Service expected about 40,000 casualties. Hospital beds were prepared accordingly and among them 400 beds for possible cases of psychoneurosis.53 That meant that 1 per cent of the casualties were expected to be classified as mental disorder of some kind. In the light of past experience this figure seems somewhat too optimistic. Since psychosis and trauma are conditioned by culture, any comparisons with other armies is perhaps impossible. The aim of the study here is to find out whether the Red Army was aware of the psychopathology of war. There is no doubt that psychotic cases were taken care of by the Medical Service and that a great deal of work was done to study, analyse and treat soldiers whose systems could not take any more.54 Logistics The mobility of the service was provided by the medical units attached directly to the military units, according to regulations. Each of the medical units had an establishment of medical staff which varied to a large extent according to demand and supply of medical personnel. It is noteworthy though that from the end of 1942 onwards careful planning was attempted before major operations, in order to prepare the medical capacity for a predicted number of casualties. Statistics were later produced to establish the approximate number of casualties in a variety of terrains, climatic conditions, rate of advance and type of military branch. However, mobility depended on logistics, perhaps the weakest link in the Red Army system. Roads and railways were few and far between and many were either destroyed or under constant attack by German airplanes which did not respect the Red Cross emblem. Motor vehicles did not abound at the beginning of the war and the demand was


growing by the day. Climatic conditions added to the problem; in many places motor cars could not be used during long periods of heavy snow or deep mud. The nature of the war conducted by Germany against the Soviet Union did not allow for refined ethics. Red Cross emblems were not respected and even in such places where ambulances were available, on many occasions armoured vehicles had to be used for evacuation of the wounded. Not only at the beginning of the war but also towards its end motor vehicles were always in short supply. At the beginning of the war the establishment of motor vehicles on the Western Front was only 40 per cent of the amount stipulated in regulations. On the Southern Front the figure was nearly 50 per cent down. But even during the last months of the war Rifle Corps No 53, for instance, during the Eastern Prussia Operation (14/1/45) had only 60–70 per cent of the establishment of motor vehicles. The Corps had to use vehicles captured from the enemy and space available in trucks of the transport section of the Corps.55 The Medical Service of the First Pribaltic Front (4th Shock Army, 6th Guards Army, 43 Army and 3rd Air Army) in preparation for the summer offensive of 1944 had only 75 per cent of its vehicles at the Army level, of which 13 per cent were under major or medium size repairs. The 6th Guards and the 43 Army could not meet the transportation demands according to the calculated number of casualties. The situation was much better at the immediate rear echelon, that is evacuation hospitals. These could provide 90 per cent of the transportation. The Front Medical Service had at its disposal 59 airplanes, 45 of which were operative. The airplanes could evacuate about 230 wounded soldiers a day and deliver 300 litres of blood.56 A great deal of the traction power of the Red Army (and the Wehrmacht) was provided by horses both military and for medical purposes. But dogs and even deer were also used in difficult terrain and under certain weather conditions. The 14th Army used deer on a regular basis: 5,766 wounded and sick soldiers were evacuated by deer in 1941– 2, 2,010 in 1942–3 and 2,366 in 1943–4.57 Already in December (26/12/ 41) the Commissar of Defence had ordered the setting up of medical cavalry companies as part of the Army’s establishment. At first each of these companies consisted of four platoons, with 24 sledges each. Later on (19/4/42) they consisted of only three companies with 19 sledges each. In December 1942 (14/12/42) the fronts were ordered to form dogpulled sledge companies. In May 1943 (25/5/43) these companies were organized in detachments. Each detachment consisted of two


companies, with three platoons to the company. Each platoon operated six sledges and the detachment handled 132 dogs. Trains have always been the traditional means of transportation in the Soviet Union. In April 1942, medical trains were reorganized in order to carry 250–300 wounded and ill soldiers, replacing the former trains that carried 598–857 casualties and were too big for an Army rear zone to handle. Although each train became smaller and easier to handle, the total number of the more compact trains was enlarged in December 1941 and instead of the 149 that had been planned, 286 were put into operation. It seems that until the beginning of 1943 ambulance trains did not enjoy high priority in the overloaded railway schedule of the USSR. The Commissar for Trains (NKPS) made a distinction between empty trains and loaded ones oblivious to the fact that without incoming empty trains there could be no out-going loaded ones. (Decree No.1127 of the NKPS, 24 October 1942). The empty ambulance trains going to the front were only seventh on the scale of priorities. (The eighth and last priority being freight trains loaded with secondary commodities.) It demanded the full force of authority of the Central Committee to change this miserable situation and on 3 April 1943 loaded ambulance trains took first priority and empty ones second.58 The GVSU also operated 100 river motor-boats that were technically under the command of the Commissar of the River Fleet (Narkomrechflot). Such boats operated on the Volga, Oka, Sheksna and Northern Dvina. Air ambulances had not been planned prior to the war, therefore at the beginning of the war the Service operated only 350 machines. Most of these planes were light machines with a very limited haulage capacity (two or three wounded). In the autumn of 1941 the number of planes dropped by 43 per cent because the air ambulances had to fly without fighter escort,59 and only 200 remained. The replenishment process was slow and by 1 January 1942 their number was only 202, and even a year later (1/12/42) there were no more than 243 machines.60 As in so many other cases Soviet sources do not agree with one another as to the true number of airplanes that operated during the war.61 All in all, about 12– 13 per cent of all the wounded and ill were evacuated by air, but the role played by airplanes on some critical fronts and in some critical battles was essential. Leningrad of course makes a good case study. In the period 19 September 1941 to March 1942, 37 per cent of all the wounded and ill were evacuated from Leningrad by air. Not only special air ambulances were used but also many of the planes which came into the besieged town loaded with supplies, evacuated wounded and sick on their way


Table 2.3 Number and percentage of wounded evacuated by air in certain operations62

out When the importance of evacuation by air became established, designers were assigned to improve some of the planes and to design new ones. The designer Bakshaev modified the U-2 in 1942 and enabled it to carry two wounded on stretchers and one in a sitting position (in its new medical capacity it was redesignated C-4); the designer Polikarpov improved the PO-2 in 1943 to the same effect (the new medical designation PO-2 SHS); the designer Shcherbakov designed an entirely new plane in 1943, which could carry nine wounded on stretchers. As Table 2.3 shows the wounded were not evacuated by air for several days. Only on one occasion, were most of the wounded of the Independent Naval Army evacuated by air, and on another occasion, about a third of the wounded of the 4th Ukrainian Front were similarly evacuated. There is also little difference between the beginning and the end of the war in the percentage of those evacuated by air. It was a matter of availability of aircraft and operational considerations which decided the issues.


When it was a matter of short flights, even the limited capacity of the planes could be used in an effective way. In March 1943 16,000 wounded were evacuated by air from the Kursk area to the Central Front, that is from the hospitals at the immediate rear of the Front—the first echelon—to the area of the second echelon in Yelts. On certain days no less than 1,600 wounded were evacuated in one day. At the same time the Air Force lifted considerable quantities of medications and plasma.63 During July-October 1943 at the time of the counter-offensive in Kursk 20,000 wounded were evacuated by air. In an improvised way even mail airplanes were used for first aid when they had been equipped with heating installations.64 It may well be that the shortage of air logistics initiated the elaborate system of hospitalization in stages, a ploy that was later highly praised as a great invention but could have been much less complicated, although never superfluous, with more air ambulances. With such a shortage of logistics there is no wonder that the Medical Service was in need of repair units and depots for its mobile as well as its medical equipment. Before the war the Service did not have its own repair units and it had to depend on other services for repairs. Only at the beginning of the second year of war, when the Service had too many difficulties with its equipment, a small unit of technical repair was authorized, and then only for senior disinfection units of the fronts (DIOF). Its tasks, however, were limited to the instruction of junior specialists in disinfection units and it is more an indication of the Red Army Command’s fear of epidemics than of its concern for the daily needs of the Service logistics. The first repair unit consisted of only 24 specialists in many types of repairs. Even though these repair units suffered from lack of essential equipment (gas-welding equipment, for instance), it managed to repair (during the winter 1943–44) about 40 per cent of all the items that needed overhaul, 33 per cent of those which were in need of heavy repairs and 28 per cent of routine repairs. However, the Service never acquired a mobile repair unit although there were many plans to provide one, based on the work of the instructors’ department of the Kirov Military Medicine Academy. This department worked out a plan to establish two emergency repair teams: ‘A’ and ‘B’. The first type was to have been able to repair medical equipment and the second to repair vehicles. Two teams of type ‘A’ and one team of type ‘B’ were eventually incorporated in the repair company of the Service on the front, but the basic idea to establish a mobile repair unit of the Service on each front never materialized.65


THE AIR FORCE The Air Force, which suffered perhaps more than any other branch of the combat Army from the impact of the surprise attack, was susceptible to even the slightest disruption of morale as a result of a high proportion of casualties among a preciously small number of pilots. On the first day of the war the Germans attacked 66 frontier air-fields. By noon of the same day the Soviet Air Force lost 1,200 machines, 300 in air combat and 900 on the ground. At that early stage and for some time still the problem of camouflage was not solved, neither for men nor for equipment Soviet fliers still wore their conspicuous blue uniforms which made them easy prey for German air to ground attacks.66 Although the proportion of casual ties among pilots was not very high in comparison to other branches of the Red Army, the proportion of fatal casualties was particularly high: one-half, one-third and a quarter of all the injured airmen died of their wounds, depending on the branch of the Air Force (fighter, bomber and air-defence commands respectively). One of the reasons for this proportion was the fact that even a slightly wounded pilot sometimes could not handle his airplane and that almost every crash caused the death of the pilot.67 Pilots faced the risk of being left behind the lines or being wounded in remote or inaccessible locations. It was therefore essential for the force and for individual pilots to know, before they flew out on missions, that they would not be neglected. The Air Force had been striving since the beginning of the war to gain recognition as a separate branch, with its own medical service to care for its wounded, keep in touch with the fighting units and in due course return the cured pilot, or crew-man to his own unit. This demand was acknowledged and instructions were given but they were not always implemented. The Air Force operated its own unit and base hospitals but these could cater only for the less seriously wounded and ill. The first moves towards independent Air Force hospitals were actually taken at the end of 1942 and the beginning of 1943 when two hospitals were united to form the basis for the Central Air Force Hospital. This hospital cared for those who were hospitalized for short periods and did not have the authority to decide the medical policy of the force. The last refinement however could not be implemented until 1944, when each of the air armies received its own hospitals (AAG) with 200 beds according to regulations.68 The demand of the Air Force was based on its peculiarities. Air crews suffered special types of injuries, in particular to the head and


extremities, they were subject to tremendous nervous strain and there were special problems with regard to their triage. With regard to the background of equity and egalitarianism in Soviet hospitalization the Air Force was careful to present its case not as a privilege to some fighting elite but as a medical necessity. The Air Force had to organize special search units for pilots whose airplanes fell far away from base. On such occasions the pilot was evacuated to any nearby hospital before he was able to be returned to an Air Force hospital. A special diet was also necessary for pilots, especially for fighters (they enjoyed 4750– 4800 calories a day and food rich in vitamins). Battle fatigue was very common among pilots. In June 1941 Air Force Command together with the Medical Service Command issued a special instruction that fighter pilots and bomber crews must have a rest of 5–10 days after 100 flight hours and 200 flight hours respectively. From June 1942 onwards ground crews were also entitled to a period of time in a rest house at any sign of deterioration of their health. In the 8th Air Army for instance in 1944, 762 pilots suffered from deterioration in their health. Of these 516 (67.7 per cent) showed signs of battle fatigue. The treatment of battle fatigue led easily to the conclusion that air crews must undergo periodical medical examination for general purposes and in particular for signs of strain. The typical injuries of air crews led also to cooperation between air medicine and engineering. The designer Ilyushin added special armoured plates to protect pilots from head and feet injuries. THE NAVY The position of the Navy was better than that of the Air Force at the beginning of the war. The People Commissariat for the USSR Navy was established in 1938 and included a medical administration which was soon afterwards reorganized as the Medical Administration of the Navy. The Medical Administration included also naval hospitals. Nevertheless the Navy had to go through the agonizing process of trial and error like the other services. At the beginning of the war there were beds in naval hospitals for only 1.6 per cent of the force. Considering the close cooperation between the Navy and the ground forces this percentage was too much or too little depending on the circumstances. At times naval hospitals had to provide for ground force casualties, at other times general hospitals had to provide for sailors. However, after the reorganization of the Medical Service, the Navy also changed its pre-war perception and adopted the more flexible method of evacuation


in stages adjusting to the intensity of a given battle. The Navy was fairly well prepared for naval operations, including naval medical transport which allowed for medical aid close to the front, but many naval units fought as regular ground forces, in which case they were looked after as any other unit The Navy was also instrumental in giving medical aid and in providing medical transport as some of the major battles of the Great Patriotic War took place in littoral locations (Tallinn, Sevastopol) or near navigable rivers and lakes (Leningrad and Stalingrad). All in all, the Navy evacuated during the war about 600,000 wounded and sick soldiers, most of whom belonged to the ground forces. MEDICINE AND VOLUNTARISM ON THE HOME FRONT—THE ‘REAR’ The Red Army made a distinction between the rear and the deep rear. The rear (tyl) is the immediate line behind a combat unit, but the same word is used to describe the home front behind the front line; the deep rear (glubokii tyl) is far behind the front-line. According to Stalin the steadfastness of the rear is one of the major preconditions for victory. The rear of the Medical Service in particular consisted of base hospitals, as well as stationary hospitals and included the scientific infrastructure of the country. Graduates of medical academies were enlisted upon graduation and sent to the front, but the laboratories in the stationary hospitals also took part in the war effort. The University of Moscow which was evacuated to Kuibishev in October 1941 did not stop functioning. It was instrumental in devising solutions to problems encountered during the war. The faculty of biology, for instance helped in the preparation of a solution which was used in the process of blood coagulation.69 The Service dealt also with partisans. When partisan warfare was established in 1943 and less precarious lines of communication were formed between the units fighting behind the enemy lines (another aspect of the deep rear) and the main body of the Red Army, an effort was made to help the wounded and ill partisans. Each partisan who was evacuated to the rear was supplied with a card which included details of his wound or illness and an address of his relatives.70 In 1942 (14 November) the People Commissariat for Health, following the instructions of the CC established the first hospital and convalescence place for partisans on the basis of the sanatorium named after Voroshilov.71


There is no doubt that the State was the moving power behind the Medical Service as indeed it was for all the war effort, but this war effort was inconceivable without a great deal of voluntarism and sacrifice on the part of the people. Not only was the Red Cross used for medical purposes, appealing to people who were not called to a combat role, but also large amounts of donated blood were gathered. There were 5.5 million blood donors during the war and between them they donated 1,700,000 litres of blood, an average of about 3.2 litres per person.72 (If we consider that each donor donates about half a litre at any one time we can conclude that each of these donors volunteered about six times during the war.) The number of blood donors amongst the Red Cross volunteers increased from 112,000 in 1941 through 212,000 (1942), 316,000 (1943) and 472,000 (1944) to 656,000 in 1945. Apart from the Red Cross channel there were unofficial blood donation stations (SPK) not far behind the front-line. These donations were not in large quantities—25,000 litres in 1941 and 140,000 litres in 1942—the difference may have been that for official donations the donor was entitled to a small fee (see the case of Ms A.Skachkova below). Although the Red Cross became a State organ after the October Revolution it still retained some of its old flavour. It activated in the country a wide network of courses for medical specialists in response to the demand of the SNK (the Government) and CC (Central Committee), and addressed all Party, Soviets, trade union and Komsomol organizations, to render ‘extensive help to the wounded who were assigned to hospitals, schools and clubs’. 226,500 medical nurses, 458, 200 combat orderlies and more than 36,000 medical senior orderlies underwent such courses.73 The Party approached the public for all sorts of contributions: beds, linen, dishes, garments, musical instruments, pictures and money. The activists of the Red Cross on their own collected more than two million roubles. There were appeals and there were also inducements. Towards the end of the war (24/7/44) the Supreme Soviet promulgated a decree about a decoration, ‘Honourable donor of the USSR’, which 15,000 donors received. A certain Ms A.Skachkova was awarded the medal of Kutuzov for the donation of 15. 5 litres of blood with no remuneration (sic!).74 The price of one cubic centimetre of blood was between 50 copecks and one rouble. The donors were paid 50 copecks. However, both centrally and locally purchased blood did not satisfy the needs and the bulk of the blood came from the Ministry of Health inventory. Purchased blood in 1945 was 39.7 per cent of all the blood used by the Medical Service.75 It does seem that there was a shortage of blood, at least on certain fronts. This


shortage was exacerbated by the failure of industry to produce enough styptic tourniquets. Actually the production of this particular material dropped more than any other. Industry could produce only 2.6 per cent of the plan. There are many substitutes for styptic tourniquets but none of which makes the life of the orderly on the battlefield easy when attempting to stop the bleeding of a wounded soldier under fire.76 On the Volkhov Front for instance, in the first half of 1942 there were 12 blood transfusions for every 100 wounded, in the second half of 1942– 19 and in the first half of 1943–37.77 The Party initiated voluntarism through an appeal to patriotism, strong public pressure and inducement in the form of symbols of status, namely medals and decorations, which mean so much at a time of war. The consequences of such campaigns to boost voluntarism (despite the slight contradiction in terms), were tangible. 130,000 women worked in evacuation hospitals in their free time (which must have been very limited, given the long working hours during the war). The public also helped to improve the food in hospitals. In 1942, ‘Foundation for the Health of the Homeland Protectors’, was established in Saratov. In October 1943, the All Russian Help Committee resolved to improve the food and nourishment in hospitals, thus implementing a decision of the Politburo of 8 October 1941 to organize such committees.78 WOMEN’S HEALTH Many soldiers owe their lives to the dedication and valour of women orderlies and stretcher-bearers, to women doctors and nurses in the field as well as in Army base hospitals. In the Great Patriotic War 41 per cent of all front-line doctors, 43 per cent of military surgeons and assistant doctors, 100 per cent of medical nurses and more than 40 per cent of orderlies were women.79 The history of the Medical Service is interspersed with stories about the heroism of nurses and orderlies.80 Seventeen women have received the medal ‘Hero of the Soviet Union’, 10 of them posthumously.81 During the 1941–1945 war the Red Army enlisted 800,000 women in combat areas and in combat jobs.82 Their number was large in particular in the Medical Service but also in the Antiaircraft Defence of the Country (PVO Strany), in the Air Force, where several won the title ‘Hero of the Soviet Union’, and in the armoured forces. There was almost no branch of the Armed Forces which did not include women.83 Many of the women were either wounded or fell ill in the line of duty. However, even on the home front, there were only a limited number of facilities assigned specifically to women. In the


garrisons or in military hospitals there were gynaecological departments, or specially assigned beds, but in case of complications, women had to be transferred either to a military or a civilian hospital. In one of the military hospitals in the rear there was usually a women’s department with 15–20 beds. Since in many areas the Ministry of Health either did not function or was non-existent, a certain number of civilian women were hospitalized in military hospitals (5 per cent of the women in gynaecological departments). That fact was a cause for several contagious diseases spreading from the civilian population to the army. In the Anti-Aircraft Defence of the Country (PVO), where many women served, a gynaecologist was assigned to each unit However, in the Moscow PVO (or as it was designated from 1943, the Special Moscow Army PVO) there were 701 sites for all kinds of anti-aircraft installations. These sites were spread far and wide, many of them a long distance from their main HQ. In the Far East, the line of anti-aircraft defence stretched about 300–500km from the units’ HQ. Under the circumstances it was very difficult to send a gynaecologist to every unit, although an effort was made to do so. During the war the doctors of the Moscow PVO went on 5,223 missions to see women patients; assistant doctors and midwives went three times as often. However, specialists were in short supply in the Army and gynaecologists even more so. At a time of need the unit’s gynaecologist would delegate the job to another doctor or assistant doctor with a further deterioration of expertise and doctor-patient relations. A particular problem was that of personal hygiene. The Army in the field or on the move could not provide the necessary physical conditions for women who had to make do with their own billets or the public baths, which were always overcrowded, if there were any at all. Neither of these places were clean nor could they supply the necessary privacy.84 An attempt to ensure a monthly preventive check-up was only partially successful, as under the circumstances only 70 per cent of the women could be examined. In conclusion, women were less well cared for during the war than men and as a result suffered more from the general deterioration of health at a time of war as well as from the special emotional stress related to pregnancy, maternity and menstruation. DISEASE AND EPIDEMICS Discussion of women in the Red Army brings into sharp relief the whole problem of personal and collective hygiene in the military. War


conditions of course exacerbate any deficiencies. Traditionally, wars have been associated with squalor, epidemics, hunger, refugees, destruction and death. All these could be found in abundance during the war against Germany. Not only the general standard of living dropped considerably during the war but there were also great movements of large populations, in particular soldiers moving from their barracks inland to their combat destinations along a huge front-line. These movements were the main reason for illness in the first year of war, and 66 per cent of illness in 1942.85 The combination of the Nazi military machine with far less than adequate medical preparations on the Soviet side, provided a fertile ground for disease and epidemics. At best the Germans were indifferent to the fate of the civil population and at worst deliberately destroyed civil institutions or allowed them to run down. Civilian health institutions buckled under the impact of the German attack and the Soviet hasty retreat. Under German occupation, the not inconsiderable, though modest Soviet achievements in public health, were recklessly or systematically ruined. Once the general offensive started in 1944 the rapid advance of the Red Army was too fast for the mobile part of the Medical Service that had been so meticulously built up in the first two years of the war. It goes without saying that places under siege suffered more than others. Hard climatic zones were also more prone to yield to disease, not only because many of the soldiers were unacclimatized, but also because scarcity and technical problems made it difficult to heat billets, medical installations, or even hospitals. In Leningrad it was necessary to enlarge the number of Army hospitals for infectious diseases from 6 to 8 and the Front hospitals from 9, with an average of 396 beds each, to 15, with an average of 475 beds each. The need was urgent as no less than 49 per cent of the casualties during the siege of Leningrad were victims of illness. Illness accounted for 81 per cent of the casualties in Army No. 23, 34.5 per cent of casualties in Army No. 42 and 32.5 per cent of casualties in Army No. 55.86 Although there is no breakdown of diseases, the context suggests that they might have been contagious, as the information also dealt with hospitals for infectious diseases. The Oxford Dictionary definition of epidemics is sober and appropriate: ‘a disease prevalent among a community at a special time’. A great deal of Soviet evidence bears out this definition and there is no escaping the fact that epidemics, even though not rampant, did have an effect on the performance of the troops. In the light of the information in several Soviet publications it is difficult to understand how F.I.Komarov can prove his thesis that ‘even


during the worst periods of the war epidemics did not affect the performance of the Army’. In the same book he claims that during the second period of the war (1943) the medical situation deteriorated and there were more epidemics.87 The Service was well aware of the risks involved and was taking measures to suppress epidemics precisely because they were so dangerous. In a recent article Komarov claims that during the Yassi-Kishinev operation (July–August 1944) the 2nd and 3rd Ukrainian Fronts suffered 87,602 cases of malaria which ‘reduced considerably the combat capability of the troops’.88 Every front and Army usually had an epidemic inspection station (SKP). An average of about 750–850 wagons loaded with cases for inspection arrived in each of these stations during the war. In 1942 10 per cent of the cases needed medical analysis. In 1943 this figure had risen to 22 per cent. It fell to 16 per cent in 1944 and rose again in 1945 to 20 per cent We may conclude then, that an average of 17 per cent of all the cases were suspected of contagious disease and that during the war there was not a definite trend towards reduction in the number of suspicious cases. Furthermore, upon analysis 40 per cent of the cases were found to be infectious.89 Although most diseases were not fatal, deaths did occur throughout the war. The percentage of fatalities fluctuated between 0.08 to 0.1 per cent of all ill soldiers per day.90 These, one presumes, were diseases that affected individual soldiers in the course of their service, but the main concern was, of course, about epidemics. At the end of March or the beginning of April 1942 the subject had already been broached in a meeting between the head of the Service, Stalin, Molotov and Kaganovich.91 However, it seems that mobile units assigned in particular to deal with the problem were established only at the beginning of 1944, at the time of the great offensive.92 It is difficult to establish which disease was most common among the soldiers but it seems that it was typhus of all kinds. The Red Army suffered in particular from typhoid and also from tularemia. On the whole, the situation first deteriorated in comparison to the beginning of the war, before it improved towards the end of the war.93 Altogether during the war the percentage of ill soldiers among Soviet casualties was 26 per cent in 1941–2, 38.9 per cent in 1942–3, 34.9 per cent in 1943–4 and 37. 1 per cent in 1944–5.94 Although we do not have absolute figures for the Red Army, it is interesting to note that in the American Army during the Second World War there were more deaths as a result of disease than as a result of either battle casualties or accidents in 1942. In the same year 9,542 died of disease, 4,392 died in battle or of wounds


received on the battlefield and 5,619 died as a result of accidents. In 1943 22 per cent of all casualties were due to disease, but this figure fell to 3.6 per cent in 1944 and 8.3 per cent in 1945. 95 It should be remembered of course, that the percentage of deaths as a result of disease in the American Army, is misleading due to the fact that the overall number of casualties was dramatically lower than that of the Red Army and that it suffered most of its casualties during the later years of the war.96 THE POLICY OF MEDICAL STAFF REPLENISHMENT The Service entered the war in the same state of unreadiness as the rest of the Red Army. It was short of medical personnel on all levels, of equipment, medications, installations and logistics. Scarcity of medical staff may have been damaging, but the higher the level of specialization, the more damaging was the shortage. Although it seems that the policy of increasing the number of doctors and orderlies was basically sound, it caused a structural and probably unavoidable dilemma. Faced with an acute shortage of medical staff and with a staggering rate of casualties of both soldiers and medical staff, the authorities resorted to some drastic measures. In the first place all medical reservists were mobilized; secondly, several more medical institutions were established; thirdly, courses were shortened, in order quickly to replenish the depleted ranks. Last but not least, a better coordination between civilian and military institutions was established. These reorganizations were carried out by a directive published in 1942 by the Service and by the Commissar of Defence, Decrees Nos 0296 and 0678.97 Superficially speaking the results were impressive. Towards the end of the war the establishment of medical staff reached some 90 per cent, but if that was the case (Soviet sources are at variance about the figures), it was at the expense of medical standards, namely, at the expense of human life: the rate of wrong diagnosis increased the number of deaths, clumsy stitches increased the number of infections and the number of invalids and inexperience in giving blood transfusion increased the number of coma cases. At the end of 1943, for instance, Order No. 0214 instructed that ‘the civilian health service system has long stopped being the reservoir of doctors-specialists on whom it was possible to count in order to fulfil the needs of the fronts’.98 That being the case, the Service could no longer count on replenishment from external sources and all it could do was to put the available inventory to


a better use by differentiation between specialists, replacement of men by women and junior staff and by coordination between the fronts. At the beginning of the war reserves of medical personnel were distributed according to a peacetime schedule. Each area had its medical reserves regardless of the number of casualties, or even after that particular area had become occupied by the enemy. In 1942 the reserves of medical specialists were organized as part of the establishment of a front’s evacuation stations. The number of people in each station fluctuated between 10–20 doctors and 15–30 other medical staff. Another significant improvement was introduced in May 1942, when an independent medical battalion was established as the reserve of the GVSU, to be used whenever the need arose.99 However, it should be noted that the reserves were not merely organized according to some abstract establishment plan. The medical reserves allocations were planned and modified according to the front and its needs and according to availability. Side by side with the establishment of specialists each front had another non-official establishment of orderlies and stretcherbearers, whose rate of attrition was higher than that of the specialists. There is something chilling but unavoidable in planning for the number of casualties before operations, but at least it gives better chances for survival through improvement of the treatment. Nevertheless, such planning did not come easy to the Red Army and it was implemented systematically, although not always and not everywhere, only in the second half of the war. The Medical Service suffered more than 200,000 fatal casualties during the war—killed on duty, missing or dead as a result of injuries. Interesting in particular is the high rate of fatal casualties among doctors and professional personnel. This high strata of personnel is usually connected with hospitals and medical operation theatres, which are at some distance from the immediate line of fire. The phenomenon can be explained by two facts: the Soviet Medical Service’s relentless effort to bring hospitals as close to the front-line as possible; and the German’s gross disrespect for Red Cross emblems along the Eastern Front.100 ASSESSMENT OF SOVIET CASUALTIES IN THE GREAT PATRIOTIC WAR In order to analyse the effort of the Medical Service during the Great Patriotic War, indeed to assess the value of human life in Soviet warfare, one must have some idea about the cost of victory. Unfortunately, the figures appertaining to military casualties are still


scanty. To be more precise, one should say that there is no lack of data of Soviet casualties during the Great Patriotic War, on the Soviet as well as on the Western side, but it is only recently that the Soviet authorities have volunteered more accurate and documented material. In an interview with the COS, General of the Army M.A.Moseev, which took place in 1990, the number of military casualties and the extent of equipment losses during the Great Patriotic War, were revealed for the first time. However, even this revealing interview leaves several unclear points. Therefore, it is safe to assume that the figure quoted for manpower losses may be modified in the future. One may infer from this interview that at the beginning of the war many soldiers died under unaccountable circumstances. It is also possible that there has never been a precise registration of all the enlisted soldiers who fought, were left behind the lines, found their way back to a fighting unit, were missing, captured, escaped, or relieved and then coopted to some anonymous unit. The military administration could not cope with the piles of documents during the first months of the war. Later on, many documents were destroyed for fear that they might be captured by the enemy. A few months before the war the Commissar of Defence issued a decree (No. 138, 15 March 1941) concerning identity tags to be carried in an oilpaper locket The tag should include the name, family name and father’s name, rank, place and date of birth. Unfortunately this decree was later cancelled (decree No.376, 17 November 1942) by the same authority.101 A great deal of work is still to be done to sort out graves and monuments in order to establish finally, the exact figures. An instruction of the State Defence Council (1 April 1942) entrusted registration and burial of the dead, in liberated areas, to the deputies of local Sovieti, but they were unable to deal with the problem. Only in 1944 (4 February), for the first time in the history of Soviet military legislation, a decree was issued by the Deputy Commissar of Defence: ‘Instructions for manpower registration in the Red Army (in wartime)’. The decree ordered construction of provisional or permanent monuments with inscription of rank, name, father’s name and the date of death. However, a decree of the Commissar of Defence (7 March 1945) revealed that his Deputy’s decree was not carried out with great care.102 According to Soviet accounts at the beginning of the war, the ‘casualty reports were far from complete…in some cases, such as surrounded, detached concentrations of Soviet troops, for instance, there were no reports at all’.103 Even ten months after the beginning of the war (12 April 1942) the Commissar of Defence reported that ‘The lists of soldiers killed in action contain no more than a third of the actual


numbers. The data about soldiers not accounted for and POWs are even further removed from reality’.104 Two of Stalin’s speeches may give some idea of the difficulties in establishing the correct figures. On 6 November 1941 Stalin stated that ‘In four months of war we have lost 350,000 killed and 378,000 missing, and the number of our wounded is 1,020,000.’105 In a speech of 1944 Stalin stated that more than 5,000, 000 soldiers had died from the beginning of the war up to 1 June 1944.106 Approximately the same figure is quoted by the Annual Book of the League of Nations (1946, p. 181). According to this source the number of Soviet soldiers killed, missing, or POWs is 5,300,000.107 A calculation based on inference from Stalin’s first speech will lead us to the conclusion that in 136 fighting days the Red Army lost an average of 2,573 soldiers a day (dead), i.e. 350,000 divided by 136 fighting days. According to a calculation based on Stalin’s second speech, the Red Army lost in three years (1,074 fighting days) an average of 4,655 soldiers (dead) a day, i.e. 5,000,000 divided by 1,074 fighting days. According to the first speech at the given pace, the Red Army would have lost 939,145 soldiers in one year; according to the second speech the figure would have been 1,699,075. Without discounting these figures, one probable conclusion may be that the speeches were made for political reasons; and another that the daily average varied a great deal. Indeed a glance at Figure 2.1 is enough to substantiate the second conclusion.108 Actually, the same figure should also tell us that on two particular dates, November 1941 and June 1944, the rate of daily casualties was the lowest for that year but also that the two rates were different from one another. However, in another speech delivered on 22 June 1943, exactly two years after the German attack, Stalin said that ‘the Soviet Army had lost 4,200,000 dead and missing persons during the first two years of the war’. Introducing the factor of missing soldiers, Stalin made it impossible to infer the number of those who had lost their lives. However, if we deduct the figure 4,200,000 (Stalin speech of 22 June 1943) from the number 5,000,000 dead (Stalin speech of 1944) and we add to it the lower calculated figure for an annual average (939, 145) we may assume that all those mentioned in the speech of 22 June were actually dead and that Stalin added the ‘missing’ factor because he may not have known the true figure at the time, or because he did not want to alarm public opinion more than necessary. The ‘total approach’, i.e. mentioning an absolute figure with no breakdown, is also adopted by other Soviet sources. According to this approach the USSR lost during the war with Germany more than 20 million people, of which six million were civilians and almost four


million POWs, the rest, presumably, are military casualties.109 That was the official figure for Soviet losses throughout the Brezhnev period. However, on a memorial day to celebrate 45 years since the victory over Germany, Gorbachev mentioned the figure ‘almost 27 million casualties’. At this time of glasnost• Soviet authorities are trying to take a new and more systematic look at the problem of casualties. Evidently, past experience was based on a number of approaches, such as basing an absolute figure for the casualties of any given operation only on those who actually participated. Another approach was also to take into consideration the reserves who eventually were not engaged in real fighting, yet another was to calculate the casualties according to the daily average. The breakdown of casualties in certain units on a section of the front in a given period is not very helpful either. None of these prove satisfactory particularly when the number of ill soldiers is also included. The average daily percentage of ill soldiers in some of the great battles was as follows: battle of Moscow battle of Stalingrad battle of Kursk battle of Yassi-Kishinev battle of Berlin

0.03–0.08 per cent (according to front) 0.06–0.09 per cent 0.04–0.11 per cent 0.12–0.22 per cent 0.07–0.13 per cent

However, during the offensive in Manchuria, when the total number of ill was not high, their daily percentage was 35 in the Far Eastern Front and 52.2 in the Za-Baikal Front.110 The total approach when used in the West also leaves much to be desired, with figures running from a low of 7.5 million dead soldiers to a high of 13.6 million.111 German accounts are also very important but should be checked against other sources because of the tendency of enemies at a time of war to exaggerate the number of enemy casualties. According to German Intelligence reports the figures for Soviet casualties by February 1945 (that is before the battle of Berlin) were 12, 593,000 killed and disabled, and 5,755,000 POWs.112 According to Smyrnov the daily average casualties of the Russian Army in the First World War was 140 per division. An average of 149 divisions were fielded during the war. The average daily number of casualties then was 20,860. A common calculation is that one-third of all casualties are dead. That means that there were about 7,000 dead a day. In the Winter War according to the same source the situation was about the same,

Source: Smyrnov, Voina i voennaya meditsina 1939–1945 gody, (Moscow, 1979), p. 188.

Figure 2.1 Casualties per month: an average percentage for World War II



meaning yet again about 140 dead a day per division. These examples illustrate just some of the difficulties in analysing casualty figures. However, returning to General Moseev in 1990, he quoted the absolute figure of 8,668,400 dead. The breakdown of the dead is as follows: Army and Navy 8,509,300; NKVD 97,700; Border Guards 61,400; other casualties 18,000,000. Of the total fatal casualties 20 per cent occurred during the first six months of the war, that is 1,733,680; another third of the casualties occurred during 1942—2,889,466. In the first 18 months of the war the Red Army lost 4,623,146 soldiers (Stalin was almost accurate). In the next two and a half years, fatal losses amounted to 4,045,254. It is obvious that at the period of unorganized withdrawal, confusion and the battle for time, the number of casualties was larger than at the time of the offensive. In three great battles during 1941, Smolensk, Kiev, and Moscow, the Red Army lost about 1.5 million dead; in four other great battles in 1942, Kharkov, VoroniezhVoroshilovgrad, Stalingrad and Northern Caucasus, it lost one million.113 All these were by and large defensive battles, during the time when the Wehrmacht still enjoyed great local advantage. However, for an in-depth assessment we still need a monthly breakdown of casualties, by front and for each battle. It remains to be explained why there was such a discrepancy between the number of German and Russian casualties in a war that had an almost equal number of German and Russian offensive and defensive operations. Evaluations of the cost of victory have undergone tremendous changes over the years. In the heroic period, under the censorship of Stalin, when the cost of the war was weighed against the ‘brilliant achievements of Stalin’s leadership’, figures were fabricated for political reasons. During the Brezhnev period the tendency was to add to the figures some official authoritative aura and to use the quoted figures for different political purposes. The new policy was to demonstrate the resilience and the courage of the Soviet people who won a brilliant victory despite the enormous losses. With all the pain and agony of bereavement, the approach was somewhat utilitarian, in the same spirit in which the people died, or were sent to die, at the time of the war. With the great systemic change brought about by perestroika, there is a change in the approach, as though some missing nuance has been introduced: compassion and a moralistic attitude to human life.


The life of a human being is singular and unique. Nobody has the right to sacrifice several millions lives, or even the life of one person for his follies, incompetence or adventurous ideas.114 This new approach squares the Soviet circle. It plants the problem of the attitude to human life in warfare on a philosophical level, which was missing during the war against Germany. It is the argument of this study that the Soviet approach to human life in warfare was utilitarian, the Army and the people serving in it were instrumental in order to achieve an aim, which was—victory. It was argued that there was no lack of compassion on the part of individuals or groups, but that it was impossible to prove that compassion and care for human beings as ‘singular and unique’ was the motivation for protecting and saving the lives of soldiers in the field. There is a fine distinction to be made here between intimate bonds of comrades-in-arms, commanders and their men, doctors and their patients, on one side, and an official attitude, or even a hidden message from the State that soldiers must be spared because they are human beings. Such an official attitude, or hidden message is hardly discernible during the war. It all boils down to the fact that compassion does not come naturally and in general, certainly not in a violent environment like a battlefield. It seems that a balance was struck between the need to goad the soldiers on, to make them fight on relentlessly, and the knowledge that a utilitarian approach is sufficient to maintain soldiers’ confidence in their command, in their cause and in the need to sacrifice their lives and therefore compassion was considered to be superfluous, because it might have softened the fighting spirit of the Red Army. Cognizance of the staggering price that the Soviet Union had to pay for victory generated that soul searching which breeds remorse, anger and bewilderment at the high cost that was paid. It is only natural that the fury and the frustration was directed against Stalin, the architect of the Red Army’s lack of preparation on the eve of the war and the Supreme Commander-in-Chief of the Soviet Armed Forces during the war. However, this might be just an easy way out Stalin made some terrible blunders before and during the war, but he was not the only one. There is no excuse for the brutal killings during the purges, but there are explanations for many of Stalin’s blunders during the war. On balance Stalin was the only possible Supreme Commander-in-Chief of the Soviet Armed Forces. Any other choice of commander would have entailed a change of the whole Soviet system, not an easy task even in


peacetime, as perestroika can prove, and during the war it might have been a disaster. AN ASSESSMENT OF SOVIET MEDICAL TREATMENT The following assessment is an attempt to sum up the development of the Soviet Medical Service from 1917 to the end of the Great Patriotic War. It is the assumption of this study that the Military Medical Service may serve as a representation of the value of human life in warfare. Indeed it has been shown that the Red Army put a great effort in saving the lives of its soldiers. It was stated in the introduction to this book that the philosophical-moralistic question of whether lives were saved for their sacred value or for utilitarian reasons would not be discussed. During the terrible years 1941–45 there was no lack of compassion, devotion beyond the call of duty and sacrifice of lives for the sake of saving the life of a wounded soldier. However, even if this had not been the case we would still have had to deal with the attitude of the State and not of individuals, for the utilitarian need was so compelling and so prevalent that it is difficult to trace indifference on the part of the authorities. The need was so pressing for three reasons: 1 It is impossible to sustain the morale of the soldier if he suspects that his superiors are indifferent to his fate. 2 The enormous human resources of the Soviet Union were depleted rapidly under the staggering impact of the German surprise attack. 3 The harassed units cried out for replenishment of manpower, part of which could only come from the ranks of recuperated soldiers. The need to save lives could not fail to arouse emotions: sympathy, devotion, pity and other human traits which are the common accompaniment of care for the wounded and the ill, in particular on the battlefield. Life was certainly dear to comrades-in-arms. The legacy of the Imperial Army’s medical service was unimpressive for two reasons, the state of the military medical art at the turn of the century was pitiable; the individual soldier, being a peasant, did not acquire the status of an equal citizen deserving of adequate medical care and respect When this legacy was swept aside by the revolutionary tide, the precious voluntarism of the Red Cross was also drowned, or at least lost for many years under heavy layers of State bureaucracy. However, not everything was lost. An assortment of equipment and not an


unimportant amount of written experience, as well as human resources were salvaged and put to use during the Civil War. On the one hand then, the Revolution destroyed some invaluable humane assets, but on the other, it utilized no less significant resources: doctors, nurses, medical institutions, pharmaceutical manuals and materials. Still, even when the urge to nationalize prevailed over ‘counter-revolutionary’ Red Cross voluntarism, the goal of life saving was not lost sight of. It was the ideological and somewhat naive belief of the fathers of the Revolution that the State is the better instrument in industry as well as in medicine; in organization as well as in care for the individual. No distinction was made between generating mass enthusiasm and evolving individual incentive. Under Stalin mass enthusiasm was far more important than individual incentive. The Military Medical Service was put to the test immediately upon its inception, when the ‘Socialist Motherland’ was in danger of collapse under the pressure of the White forces. Between 1921 and 1945 it was called upon several times: in 1938 at Lake Khasan in an encounter with Japanese forces; in 1939, during the Khalkhin-Gol incident and in the Winter War which lasted until March 1940 and then in the Great Patriotic War, as well as a number of small skirmishes on several other occasions. Many a life was lost in these events. The questions presented by this study are whether the Red Army showed evident indifference to the lot of its soldiers and could the Service do any better under the circumstances? It is the assumption of this study that the Red Army attempted to take good care of its soldiers sometimes against horrendous odds. War put to the test the innermost instinct of the individual—self-preservation. Under the cognitive dissonance of saving one’s own life and defending one’s own values, soldiers and commanders alike tend to concentrate on the essential and forget other factors. The battle seems to be the fiercest at one’s own section of the front; one’s own commanders seem at the time to be the stupidest and the most inconsiderate, and the recklessness of wasting lives and material—stupendous. The fact that all these may be true on so many occasions and the fact that Stalin was such a monster throughout his term in office, ordering for example the senseless massacre of his military and military medical elite, in the late 1930s, should not confuse the issues. More often than not soldiers engaged in a ferocious battle, in their section of the front, are not in a position to assess the war of which they are but a tiny even if indispensable part. Stalin should be judged morally for his atrocities with no prejudice to the performance of the Medical Service.


As we have seen, the many battles in which the Red Army was involved from 1917 enforced on the Medical Service a harsh process of learning. In the Civil War the process was largely of trial and error. Discipline and efficiency were not the hallmarks of this war. However, Lenin signed more than 200 decrees concerning health and care for the wounded and the ill on the battlefield. The main enemy though was typhus and other epidemics. More than 25 million people had typhus in the years 1918–22. The military machine was built slowly against many domestic and external odds. The Soviet Government under Lenin had to change its former anti-war anti-military policy, which had been designed to disintegrate the Czarist and later the Provisional Government’s authority. Nevertheless, when this policy was reversed and the Soviet Government put a great effort into building a new Army and creating the necessary formations and structures, a Medical Service was one of the institutions reinstated in the new chain of command. Even in these formative years we can already see the embryo of the Service as it was to mature later on. The first Chief of the GVSU (Main Military Medical Administration) was Dr M.I.Baranov (July 1918), who was killed during the purges and the second Z.P.Solov•ev (January 1920) , who was considered to be a great organizer and theoretician of public health. Both were deeply influenced by the theoretical works of V.A.Oppel, one of a small group of medical doctors who devoted its energy to the problems of military medicine. Oppel’s contribution to the art was his idea of ‘treatment in stages’ (etapnoe lechenie), rudiments of which were implemented even during the Civil War. The theory in its pure form is most suitable for an army at a time of peace. The controversy between Oppel’s and Pirogov’s theories emerged at a much later period and has been dealt with in some detail in this work. However it is quite obvious that without introducing Oppel’s idea it was impossible to develop any military medicine at all. In order to recapitulate: the main principle incorporated in this idea is that the wounded and the ill must be subject to a procedure consisting of several stages between the time of injury or illness and the time of recuperation (or death). This procedure breaks down into first aid by a stretcher bearer or an orderly (in the Soviet parlance: first medical aid—pervaya meditsinskaya pomoshch); pre-medical aid by an assistant Doctor (feld• sher/dovrachebnaya pomoshch); first medical aid by a doctor (pervaya vrachebnaya pomoshch); professional medical aid (kvalifitsirovannaya meditsinskaya pomoshch); and specialized medical aid (spetsializirovannaya meditsinskaya pomoshch). This breakdown cuts both ways. It is the level of the practitioner as well as the level of the


treatment, from the level of the stretcher bearer and the orderly on the battlefield to the assistant doctor at the battalion medical station, the medical doctor at the division, the army and the front to the specialist at the rear, and from bandage to nerve surgery. The procedure also involves administrative work like registration, and labels attached to the person, including the nature of the injury or illness. All these were in their initial stages at the time of the Civil War and quite a few were not properly introduced even in the Great Patriotic War. Many of the organizational steps were taken in earnest only many years after the Civil War, but without the modest beginnings there could not have been any other developments. The thrust of the argument is that the Medical Service developed along with the rest of the Army, both in ideas and in organization. However, without an accurate breakdown of the military budget it is impossible to establish the scale of priority according to finance allocations. Noteworthy is the fact that when the emphasis was put on mechanization in the middle of the 1930s the Service was also equipped with its first motor ambulances. The major developments that characterized the Service between the wars were the above mentioned treatment in stages and the regulations which brought first aid and in its wake the whole medical treatment ever closer to the battlefield. The combination of these two developments was of great consequence. In peacetime when the Service was not heavily exacted, the standard and the proficiency of medicine were put under pressure; at the time of war, not only the former but also the theory of the system, was put to a most rigorous test and was found wanting. The theory as envisaged by Oppel was based on plentiful means at a set rate of casualties. Even at face value the system was vulnerable on two accounts: poor logistics and wrong predictions about the number of casualties. Grave signs of trouble were discernible at Khalkhin-Gol (May-September 1939). The rear of the front was not adequately prepared even for a small size war, lines of communication were far too long and complicated and the injuries were way beyond the versatility and the expertise available in the Far East. It should be noted though that the whole military structure in the Far East was in a bad state of disarray. If it was not for a massive commitment from Moscow which was forced to support the effort in the East with the best professional talents on the ground, in the air and in medicine, the results could have been bitter for the Soviet Union. The Medical Service of the Red Army has never enjoyed the benefit of plentiful means, the ferocity of the battles was unpredicted, nor were there advanced theories


regarding the correlation between space, time, fire power/manoeuvre and casualties. However, according to all accounts the devotion of the medical serviceman was remarkable and the Service struggled hard to meet the demands of the regulations with regard to the proximity of medical installations to the front-line. These regulations could not readily be implemented, at least until the end of August (1939), in the teeth of Japanese supremacy in the air. If in the Far East one of the main obstacles in the way of smooth medical service was terrain, in the Winter War this obstacle was confounded by the severity of the climate and the mediocrity of the command. It is easier to analyse past wars than to prepare for future wars. The Red Army is systematic in its approach to past experience. Indeed many conclusions were drawn from the Winter War, and after February 1941 (when Zhukov was appointed Chief of Staff), conclusions were drawn from the incident at the Khalkhin-Gol river, as well. There were three stumbling blocks in the way of implementing these lessons: the dispirited High Command after the purges; the unforseen nature of the coming war and the stranglehold of the old theory of military medicine. Thus, when war struck like summer lightning, weaker, softer and subordinate systems gave way sooner than others. The Medical Service was a lame duck because it was not highest on the scale of priorities and because it depended as much if not more than other branches of the military on the weakest link in the Red Army, namely logistics. In order to understand the nature of the difficulty facing the Medical Service at the beginning of the war, we have to revert yet again to the equation of space-time-fire power/manoeuvre-casualties—the theoretical thread running throughout this work (henceforth referred to as the equation). Battles were enjoined over a broken front, meandering along hundreds of kilometres, while the lives of the wounded and ill depended on immediate attention and rapid evacuation. The Service did not have any fire power of its own, therefore it was desperately contingent on the waning fire power of the retreating combat units. All the ingenious improvisations of horses, dogs and deer could not properly substitute for the lack of motor-vehicles, the scarcity of airplanes and the miserable state of the railways. These difficulties were further exacerbated by the German supremacy in the air and by the merciless type of war they launched against the USSR in particular. The difficulties presented by the first three elements of the equation contributed toward multiplication of casualties. To cover up for the lack of mobility the lives of many stretcher-bearers and orderlies were sacrificed while at the same time their numbers were curtailed until


1943, as the demands on the Service were mounting daily and human resources had to be spread ever more thinly. The indifferent standard of Soviet medicine caused by shortening the study period during the Second Five Year Plan also exacted its price in the percentage of fatal cases and in the number of invalids as a result of inadequate treatment. The performance of the Service improved considerably in 1943, when the tide of war turned in favour of the Red Army. However, many inherent deficiencies surfaced as a result By 1943 planning coordination between the combat branch of the fighting Army and the Medical Service was cemented although occasionally the pace of advance was so rapid that it left no time for planning at all. Looking at this fact from another angle one may conclude that the correlation between the elements of the equation was grasped and implemented. From 1944 to the end of the war medical plans were made before any military action, a prediction regarding the probable number of casualties that could have been made only on the basis of systematic analysis of the equation. At any rate, with the logistics available to it, the Service found it extremely difficult to cope with the rate of advance of the offensive. Furthermore, the pace of railway repair was also slower than the pace of advance of the combat units. The reasons for a death may be varied, but it is still noteworthy that although the number of rehabilitated soldiers grew from 1942 to 1943, the rate of fatal cases decreased by only 0.1 percent According to latest accounts the number of non-fatal casualties was 18 million, including soldiers that were wounded more than once.115 The authorities were not unaware of the catastrophe. Many measures were taken to deal with the awful toll of casualties, on the administrative as well as on the professional level. Not all of these were useful and some were slow in implementation. The attempt to boost the morale of the orderlies by awards and citations could not be a substitute for the cruel curtailment of their numbers and the demands put on them to serve combat duties at the same time. If the figures quoted in Soviet sources are correct stretcher-bearers and orderlies in 1943 formed 0.62 per cent of manpower in a division. The regular average establishment of forces in a Soviet division at that period was about 12,000 men, whereas in fact many of the divisions did not exceed 8,500. However, whether we consider the first or the second figure the number of orderlies seems to be inadequate. (The figures are 74 and 52 respectively.) As a result, commanders in the field allocated certain contingents in each regiment and each division as auxiliary orderlies. It is difficult to establish whether these allocations were locally initiated or if the inspiration came from on high. It is quite clear though that once


decreed these allocations were sanctioned and literally doubled the number of orderlies in the divisions, vindicating inter alia the need of modern armies for more tail even at the expense of teeth. Also curtailed was the number of more professional staff at the lower echelons of the Medical Service. However, one major improvement may account for many of the achievements of the Service during the war: the ratio between rear and front-line hosptials was tilted gradually in favour of the front The assignments of the Service in the eyes of its Command were the following: 1 To cure and return to operational service no less than 75 per cent of the wounded and ill. 2 To reduce the number of invalids in comparison to past wars. 3 To reduce the mortality among the wounded and ill. 4 Not to allow the spread of epidemics in the Red Army. According to all Soviet accounts the percentage of soldiers restored and returned to active service was 72. According to the same accounts it is obvious that many of the wounded were not fully recovered and that some were sufficiently rehabilitated to serve in some capacity but could not be assigned to combat duties and at times not even to heavy technical tasks. There is not enough data to compare the number of invalids in the two World Wars, but it is a safe guess that there were less invalids in proportion to wounded in the Great Patriotic War. According to all accounts there were more dead soldiers in the Great Patriotic War than in the First World War, but then the Wehrmacht was a ruthless enemy, modern warfare is more lethal than older types of warfare and a large proportion of the casualties was among POWs. The Soviet Government rightly praised the achievements of the Medical Service, many of its men and women were decorated and won high citations: 116,000 won citations and some won the highest award of ‘Hero of the Soviet Union’. Although there are conflicting accounts among Soviet sources about the effect of disease on the performance of the fighting Army, it seems that not all was right on this score. An average of 84.6 per cent of all casualties during the war were ill and about 12 per cent of all fatal cases were from among the ill. Many of the diseases could have been avoided with more care for personal hygiene, for instance by supplying more soap, washing and laundry facilities, in particular among women. Antiepidemic units suffered from lack of means of transportation, as well as


from scarcity of immunization material. It is impossible to assess whether the war could have been shorter with more attention to hygiene and preventive measures, but certainly a great deal of pain could have been avoided. The data at hand points to a great performance from a less than adequately equipped medical service. It is certainly an indicator of the value of human life in Soviet warfare at the time of the Great Patriotic War, but so far it is only a partial judgement that ought to be evaluated against other factors as suggested in the introduction to this work. THE CONTEMPORARY MILITARY MEDICAL SERVICE The performance of the Soviet Armed Forces is based on technical and training improvements, as well as on preserving and venerating the glorious past tradition. There is no doubt that the experience of the Great Patriotic War is still the main source of Soviet military inspiration. Its monuments are to be seen everywhere and the authorities put great emphasis on preserving admiration for its heroes in the ranks of the young generation of soldiers and officers. However, the military authorities are well aware of the fact that tradition is not enough to keep the military machine going. A future world war if there is one, may be more horrible than anything in human memory. A global nuclear war would probably not leave anything worth living for, but a conventional war or a war in which only tactical nuclear warheads are used is certainly within the boundaries of imagination and something for which the Soviet Armed Forces have been training. The Medical Service too is preparing for the horrors of a possible future war. Despite many similarities and the significance of tradition, the Service is seriously preparing for modern warfare which will be very different from past wars. However, following the gradual economic deterioration of the Soviet Union from 1970 onwards and the upheaval brought about by perestroika, the problem of the State, the Army and the Medical Service is no longer that of some minor modification, or slight improvement. What can be seen are two parallel trends. On the one hand, having past experience as a model, the Service is improving its equipment, polishing up regulations and revising the communication between civil and military health institutions; on the other, it bows to the drop in the standard of government in general and health in particular. In short, the systematic approach cannot stand the pressure of systemic— sociological, political and organizational—changes. In order to


understand the problem we need to divide it into two sections: the systematic approach and the systemic changes. The systematic approach In the attempt to improve the performance of the military machine the authorities came up against several points of principle. In view of the general shortage of funds the problem of proportion of teeth to tail was as acute as ever.116 The rear, i.e. the services, of the Soviet Armed Forces have never been spoilt by exuberant budgets. In difficult times their lot was harder than that of combat units. The Medical Service fell victim to the need for economizing. It is one thing to save petrol, or engine hours and quite another to reuse bandages, or other sterilized material. Although the outcome of both may be less expenditure, the results of economizing in petrol and engine hours may be less training for tank-crews or pilots, the results of economizing in medical equipment may be deterioration of health. It is a well established fact that Soviet citizens are avid consumers of medications. There is little control over the use of medicines. Patients may have several medicines prescribed to them without due attention to their compatibility.117 Hence the Red Star admonition: ‘You do not buy health in the pharmacy’.118 Wartime operations are the main concern of the Service. In any future war the performance of the Service will depend on its capability to predict the medical needs at any stage of a multiple operation. It is assumed that there will be many casualties and therefore the pace of supply will be essential. Since the Service uses mainly medicines from civilian stores and it depends on civilian surgery and on civilian equipment and supply, the coordination between civilian and military institutions is critical for the smooth operation of the Service. Within the military the hierarchy of supply is as follows: 1 TsVMU—Central administration of military medicine (Ministry of Defence). 2 Medical Service HQ of the Front (Navy). 3 Medical Service section of the Army (Fleet). 4 Medical Service of the Military District. 5 Independent medical battalion. In peacetime the medical supplies are delivered on a regular basis, once a year. In wartime deliveries are at short intervals: every three months, every month, per operation, or per combat activity. The system of


distribution in wartime is in kits according to the predicted number of wounded or ill. The Commander-in-Chief of the Medical Service organizes and coordinates the Service units and the delivery of supplies. He is responsible for an adequate supply and for repairs. Supply norms take into consideration all the needs of the wounded and ill on the battlefield and in field hospitals. The norms are based on the last war experience with the additional care for NBC warfare. Most of the supply is in packages and only some items like respiration equipment and furniture are permanently in the units. Each Army has a medical regiment organic to it.119 The regimental commander of the Medical Service must see to it that his personnel learns how to use the equipment. The Pharmacy Commander is in charge of medicines. He prepares the medicines and takes charge of the right distribution in the units. The feld• sher (doctor’s assistant) is in charge at the battalion level. The Chief Orderly (medical instructor) is in charge of medical kits. No particular transportation is assigned to the distribution of the equipment in the battalions and other units of the regiment. It is up to the people in charge to find any transportation on its route to their destination and to use it for the distribution of medical supplies.120 This is not the only sign that transportation is still a weak link in the Medical Service. Even for evacuation of wounded or ill soldiers, returning supply vehicles would be the most likely means of transportation. There are ambulances and helicopters but their numbers are unlikely to be sufficient for the expected number of casualties, according to Soviet calculations, at a time of mass war.121 After the death of Stalin, Soviet concern with the repercussions of a nuclear war grew, as the Cold War turned into the ‘delicate balance of terror’ and as the theoretical knowledge about such a war became more extensive. For lack of combat experience with nuclear war, the second best was a study of catastrophe. In the heat of the Cold War, Soviet exercises with nuclear warfare as well as education of the public in the Soviet Union concerning its advised conduct in case of a nuclear attack, led several strategists in the West to believe that the USSR was preparing for a first strike option. This notion was severely undermined by the catastrophes in Chernobyl and in Armenia. The study of catastrophe in the Soviet Union does make a difference between natural and ‘technological’ disasters, but it classifies them both under the category of ‘extreme situations’ as far as the application of medical aid is concerned. The Soviet verdict is that ‘currently both civil defence and the Military Medical Service were equally too late in their reaction to the emergency situation, slow in mobilizing forces and means, did not


sufficiently coordinate their activities, all of which cast unfavourable light on the results of their work’.122 Soviet criticism is severe in particular with regard to the performance of State organs after the catastrophe in Chernobyl. The reasons for such a poor performance are to be sought in the defects of the alarm system, incorrect assessment of the magnitude of the situation, interdepartmental short-sightedness and lack of preparation of the civilian defence system for operations under catastrophic circumstances. It is now clear that there was no equipment for operation in a radioactive contaminated environment and that the specialized medicines for radiation injuries were unavailable.123 Soviet accounts tend to agree that Army units, that were brought in either haphazardly or, later on, in an organized way, prevented even more extensive damage. In the first period after the event (26 April 1986) even regular newly recruited soldiers were sent in, but later on troops from the chemical units took over. These are the units that are assigned to deal with nuclear warfare and protect both military units and civilian population from radioactive effects. The Air Force was engaged in photographing the damaged reactor and the engineer troops with removing the rubble and reconstructing the destroyed building. However, it seems that between 1. 40 at night and 11.30 the following morning, the local and regional medical staff was not informed about the events inside the reactor, while the ‘first aid’ doctors who arrived on the spot did not have any equipment or medicines applicable to the circumstances that developed in Chernobyl. The Soviet systematic approach to civil defence against the dangers of a nuclear war failed in its first test. Nevertheless, systematic improvements are going ahead unabated. Nuclear war in general, nuclear reactors in particular and some other derivatives of the nuclear age, continue to be a source of concern for both political and military authorities. Nuclear war is closely connected with missiles and launching sites, which are located in many places and organized as garrisons. Indeed, tactical missiles are everywhere. A missile site or a missile park of any large unit is, as a matter of fact, accident prone. The combination of highly toxic fuel with highly explosive war-heads may be lethal. Soviet missile forces (Raketniye voiska) have their own hospital (Tsentral'nyi voennyi klinicheskii gospital Raketnikh voisk), their own equipment and even their own ambulances with specialized equipment for treatment of injuries typical to missiles accidents. The high risks involved in missile environments produced a joint effort of the Armed Forces in general and the Missiles Forces in particular. The


Armed Forces organized emergency rescue units (avariino-spasatel• niye otryadi—ASO) and the Missiles Forces Medical Service specialists invented a medical kit for the anti-toxin therapeutical and surgical brigade. The kit is designed to treat 50 injured people.124 The Navy has also applied the systematic approach to nuclear accidents at sea, incorporating special units of the Medical Service to deal with ship emergencies. Nuclear ships are equipped with a specialized pharmacy which stores anti-radiation medicine. On such ships there are compartments for the first aid treatment of radiation injuries. However, in recent catastrophes in the Soviet Union, even in places where there was no danger of radiation, the performance of civil and military medical services left much to be desired. According to Soviet accounts it seems that not only lack of transportation, which is a problem in a country the size of the USSR, but also negligence, bad organization and red tape obstructed medical aid. During the earthquake in Armenia (December 1988), equipment and material had to be flown in from central stores in Russia to Leninkan and Erevan, but the airplanes could not land in the immediate vicinity of these towns because the airports were congested. When it was acknowledged that necessary items of medicine as well as technical equipment were unavailable in the Soviet Union, the administrative documents needed for the transaction were not ready. It is not easy to determine the reasons why in a certain earthquake there are more casualties than in another, suffice it to say that according to Soviet accounts many more lives could have been saved if the country as a whole and the region in particular was better prepared for emergency cases, as are Sweden, Italy and the USA, favourite examples for Soviet medical military writers.125 In that case, as in those previously mentioned, the systematic improvement is for the time being theoretical only because systematic knowledge of the necessary improvement falls victim to the systemic malaise of the Soviet Union. Yet it should be emphasized that negligence was not a result of reckless attitude to human lives, or lack of empathy. The Moscow Military District was organized as well as it could be and its influence was brought to bear on the afflicted area. Generally speaking it seems that the military with its available equipment and personnel is quicker to rise to emergency occasions than civilian authorities and institutions. The war in Afghanistan did not supply any surprises. If anything it vindicated past experience. The war was a moderate military success and an almost total political failure. To borrow a phrase it was a ‘logistics war’.126 After the invasion, the Soviet Army was not in a


hurry to obtain a complete victory. Without changing its configuration from a peace to a war deployment, it managed to maintain communication lines almost everywhere, most of the time, and to keep the rebels at bay at a low cost in human lives and without disruption to ordinary life in the Soviet Union. The Soviet Armed Forces suffered, during nine years of war, about 40,000 casualties, of which 13,200 died. However, the breakdown of the casualties indicates the old Soviet malaise—poor care for hygiene. The situation was so bad that an Extraordinary Anti-Epidemic Commission was sent in to control health and hygiene in the units.127 The systemic changes The systematic improvement is a regular procedure, starting on high in a theoretical way and filtering down through military academies to Military Districts and to field units. New designs, new tactics, new modes of operation are put to the test in endless exercises and manoeuvres. Drill, repetition, standing procedures, regulations and habits, as well as better equipment and better educated personnel, all should combine to improve the chances of survival of wounded and ill soldiers. However, when the economy cannot cope any longer with bad management and old systems of pricing and marketing and as a result the political system comes under stress, welfare institutions are not the last to feel the pinch. Soviet society is going through a painful period of social, political and economic changes. It seems as though the ‘contractual’ and the ‘precontractual’ frameworks are coming apart at the seams.128 Child care and care for the elderly are among the most conspicuous of many symptoms of deterioration. It was stated earlier that the military and civilian health services are closely connected. Any deterioration in the one must affect the function of the other. The Soviet Group of Forces in Germany is in a state of disarray; there are complaints pouring in from Soviet (Russian) officers in many provinces about lack of cooperation with local republic institutions. A most ominous sign is of course the demand coming from important quarters (the Ukraine for instance, but also the Baltic States) to have their own armies. It may well be that the Soviet Armed Forces will have to reorganize on completely different grounds with all the internal ramifications that such a move may carry with it in a system as rigid as the military. The aim of this study is to evaluate the value of human life in the Soviet military system by means of evaluating the performance of the Medical


Service. There is no doubt that the Service had attained a high level of success in the treatment of wounded and ill soldiers during the Great Patriotic War, Western and Soviet criticism of its performance notwithstanding. On that sound basis the Soviet military started to improve the Medical Service in a systematic way. Noteworthy are the regulations for command and control, the elaborate instruction with regard to the use of medicines and the clear delineation of supply and support intra- as well as inter-Service. There are three reasons why ‘treatment in stages’ is maintained in the Soviet Armed Forces: 1 Past experience which combines the power of tradition with faith in past successful results. 2 Commonsense and practical reasons. 3 Transportation shortages. The third reason may make the former two look superfluous. It is not so. Even with the best system of transportation in a military organization which enjoys an abundance of means of transportation, triage is essential for the good health of casualties. It has been pointed out earlier that during the Great Patriotic War the Soviet inclination was to bring medical facilities as close to the front-line as possible but it is noteworthy that in NATO there are significant considerations as to why this should not be done: While from a medical and surgical care point of view, it might be very desirable to be able to get the casualty to a surgeon immediately after he has been hit, this is almost never possible, since doctors and surgeons are considered too valuable to be located very far forward and the casualty must be brought to them… A guideline figure of between 15 and 20km behind the FEBA (Forward Edge of the Battle Area) for first surgical facilities in the Western European theatre was quoted to IDR (International Defence Review) by SHAPE planning staff… It is at this level that the casualty will receive his first whole blood transfusion… Whole blood is considered too precious with too short a shelf life (30–35 days under refrigeration) to be held any further forward.129 It is a very delicate balance at stake here, the valuable life of personnel against the valuable life of casualties, or is it a case of what seems at times to be a reckless risk taken on the part of the Red Army at a time


of national emergency, i.e. the war of survival against Nazi Germany, as against NATO planning for war at a time of peace? The controversy will probably go on for ever: how far afield to bring surgical means? Notwithstanding the more difficult conditions of first-echelon care, it is well proved by many statistics from various countries that patients arriving at second echelon would be in serious condition. All are convinced, therefore, of the necessity of bringing more surgical means farther forward.130 Apparently not all are convinced, but the Soviet Military Medical Service seems to still hold to this view.

86

Chapter 3 The Soviet attitude to POWs

INTRODUCTION The intention of this chapter is to analyse the development of the Soviet attitude towards its own POWs from a legal as well as from a practical point of view. The analysis is based on the assumption that some aspects of State and military care for the soldier in the field may be assessed through examination of the attitude to the soldier at the point when he stops being a combatant and is captured by the enemy. An attempt has been made to cover some new ground, based mainly on new Soviet material that was published recently, or at least to offer some new interpretations of known facts. The Soviet legal attitude to the problem of POWs since July 1941 was different from that of the Czarist Government as much as the Soviet Government’s international status in Europe is different from that of its predecessor. There are other distinctions that ought to be considered. The legal attitude of the Soviet Government prior to 1929 (the year of the Geneva Convention of 27 July ‘Relative to the Treatment of Prisoners of War’) was different from that taken from that date onwards. The legal attitude may have become a State instrument, serving purposes other than care for the welfare of the prisoners themselves. This attitude changed once more in 1949, when the USSR actively participated in the work of the revised Geneva Convention, and then again in 1955, when the rehabilitation decree of the former POWs was promulgated. The assumption of this chapter is that the change of heart allowed for the change in the legal attitude and that the change in the legal attitude tallies well with the ‘new thinking’ in the Soviet Union today. The new approach to past attitudes already bears fruit in strong criticism of the attitude taken by Stalin’s Government towards POWs

88 THE SOVIET ATTITUDE TO POWS

during the Great Patriotic War, and in a newly bred concern for the fate of Soviet POWs in Afghanistan.1 In practical terms, Russian POWs coming back from the Great War were welcomed home,2 whereas most POWs coming home from the Great Patriotic War were not, and those coming home from Afghanistan are cared for by the MOD as are POWs in some other countries. In a historical perspective it is noteworthy that the Imperial Russian Government was far more diligent in its care for the laws of the conduct of war and for regulations covering the treatment of POWs in general, than it was in the care for its own subjects. This phenomenon is particularly significant when we deal with the conduct of the Soviet Government. It has already been noted that for methodical analysis, Stalin’s treatment of what he considered to be his political rivals in domestic politics should not be confused with the attitude towards the Army at the time of war. However, precisely this approach creates difficulties when we have to deal with the harsh attitude of the Soviet Government to the Soviet POWs. Stalin felt free to ‘purge’ the Party and the military in the mid-1930s and towards the end of the decade because he did not fear any domestic retribution towards him personally or his regime and because there was a sense of danger in view of Germany’s policies but no immediate external threat on the horizon. The logic of this argument is, that had there been any external threat Stalin would have preserved the military. Meting out harsh measures to the military in 1937–39, when there was already a sense of danger, although not an imminent threat, let alone at a time of war, negates this argument THE CHANGING ATTITUDE TO THE STATUS OF POWs The status of POWs has been discussed since the dawn of the ‘Age of Reason’, i.e. since the French Revolution. POWs’ fate before that era is beyond the scope of this study. However, it is not irrelevant to note in passing a bill promoted by Robespierre in 1793 to the effect that soldiers fighting against freedom should be treated like murderers and rebels.3 The cognizance taken of the miserable fate of soldiers captured by an enemy and put at the mercy of unruly armies in the field (see Article 2 of the Geneva Convention 1929) was interrelated with the compassion for the sick and wounded in the field. The Geneva Public Utility Society nominated a committee of five members which on 17 February 1863, formed the ‘International Standing Committee for Aid


to Wounded Soldiers’. In 1880 it adopted the title International Committee of the Red Cross. An informal conference of 16 states established the Red Cross in October 1868. In 1864 representatives of the same states, this time in full capacity, wrote the Geneva Convention which was ratified by all the ‘big powers’ at the time. (The USA ratified the convention in 1882.4) ‘The Hague Convention Concerning the Laws and Customs of War on Land’ owes its existence to the Russian Czar Alexander II, on whose behalf the Russian Minister for Foreign Affairs submitted to the European governments a ‘Draft International Convention on the Laws and Customs of War’, which was examined at the Brussels Conference.5 A Russian circular note of 30 December 1898 led to the convocation of the first peace conference held at The Hague in May and June 1899. The second and last Hague Conference was also summoned by the Russian Government in 1907.6 The flurry of these activities and the resulting conventions laid the foundations for a conventional wisdom regarding ‘laws and customs of war’. Such wisdom, however, did not do away with many of the difficulties inherent in a situation where institutions and organizations of violence are called upon to superimpose compassion on hatred and to put limits on the natural urge to destroy and annihilate an enemy. The military as an institution—to differentiate it from individual soldiers and commanders—does not care very much for soldiers who put down their arms and surrender to the enemy. The critical issue is the transformation from one status to the other, that is, from a dynamic combatant to a helpless prisoner. At this crucial moment of transition the decision to fight on or to surrender is sometimes in the hands of an individual soldier, a group of soldiers or a commander. This particular moment, pregnant with doubts, is perplexing for any legal system. A glance at the stern language used by some military institutions may throw light on the subject: 193. (22) Unauthorized abandonment of the battlefield, surrender not called for by combat conditions, refusal to fight in time of battle, or going over to the side of the enemy, shall entail the highest measure of social defence with confiscation of property.7 (Soviet military law) 25. (1) A person subject to military law shall be guilty of an offence against this section if, knowingly and without lawful excuse, he—


(d) having been captured by the enemy, serves with or aids the enemy in the prosecution of hostilities or of measures likely to influence morale or in any other manner whatsoever not authorized by international usage, or (e) having been captured by the enemy, fails to take, or prevents or discourages any other person subject to service law who has been captured by the enemy from taking, any reasonable steps to rejoin Her Majesty’s service which are available to him or, as the case may be, to that other person…. (2) A person guilty of an offence against this section shall, on conviction by court-martial, be liable…to suffer death, or any less punishment provided by this Act.8 (British military law) Chapter 3, Felonies 43. A soldier who committed one of these: (1) A soldier who ignominiously surrenders to the enemy a position, the defence of which was entrusted to him, or abandoned it in face of the enemy; (4) Having been captured by the enemy served willingly in the enemy armed forces or willingly aided them; Will be put to death, but the martial court will not ask for the death penalty unless the felony was done in war time.9 (Israeli military law) Obviously, military establishments are perplexed when they have to deal with problems of discipline, morale and soldiers’ behaviour in the face of the enemy. The perplexity does not show so much in the language of the orders and disciplinary codes but in the preliminary deliberations and in the implementation of such codes. Harsh measures are known to have been carried out in all the fighting armies during the Great War and the Second World War. It is the task of the historian to analyse the circumstances under which such tragic decisions had to be taken and to assess the authorities’ motivations in resorting to such harsh measures. No less important and perhaps more difficult to establish is the correlation between the written code and the conduct in the field. First, however, we will consider the legal legacy of the Soviet Armed Forces.


THE LEGAL LEGACY OF THE SOVIET ARMED FORCES By the end of the Great War the newly born Red Army was caught between the need to create a new doctrine and the burden of the past. On the one hand there was official contempt for the legal as well as the political legacy of the old regime, on the other, there was an urgent need for a military tradition on which to draw. The old regime could boast neither a liberal nor humanistic approach to its own subjects, but its achievements in the field of international law were quite impressive. Thus, when the legal system started to grind again in the USSR, it drew on the hefty body of legal material to which Imperial Russia was such an important contributor, as well as on the experience of the Great War, the first of the two wars that were fought in order to ‘end all wars’. Imperial Russia was signatory to the Hague Convention of 1907 which was also ratified by the Russian Government. The Soviet Government shared the feelings of many other governments that the 1907 convention was in need of revision and indeed it was instrumental in contributing ideas towards this end. Soviet thinking, revolutionary though it was, did not travel very far from the pre-war tradition. It did, however, differ from traditional thinking and formulations in some significant points that had not only a strange but perhaps also an ominous ring to the ears of many governments at the time. The difference applied in particular to the treatment of POWs. Already in December 1918 a preparatory work was begun by the Moscow Committee for helping POWs. The results were published in the third edition of the All Russian Red Cross under the title: ‘Material for the convening of a Red Cross Conference’ (Moscow, 1919) The Russian project was later approved by the 10th International Conference of the Red Cross.10 On the basis of this a draft project was distributed to the governments which had participated in the Hague Convention of 1907. This later draft, although it incorporated some of the Russian ideas, was critically analysed by the competent departments of the Russian Red Cross. In 1922 the Central Committee of the Russian Red Cross nominated a commission which by 1923 submitted a counter draft for the coming 11th Conference of the International Red Cross. The most controversial points in the Russian drafts were the following:


1 POWs retain every civil and political legal right and have the right to implement them as long as they do not stand in contradiction to security considerations. 2 Every maintenance regime should be applied uniformly to all POWS. Racial, national and religious peculiarities should not serve as a basis for changes in that regime. The second point may have sounded strange and novel to several governments, but it was objectionable in particular to the British with their multi-ethnic, imperial Army.11 The objection of the British Government was sufficient to defeat the Soviet draft, and the text that was eventually approved by the 1929 Geneva Conference read: (Article 9) Belligerents shall, so far as possible, avoid assembling in a single camp prisoners of different races or nationalities. The first Russian point sounded ominous to many governments because of its potential for subversive activities. The Russians took exception in particular to the unequal treatment of POWs—‘the three camps’ system —which was put into practice by the Poles in the Polish-Russian War of 1920. Russian POWs were billeted in three types of camps. Prisoners who were considered to be enemies of the Soviet regime, either for national or for political reasons, were put in the first camp. The regime in this camp was according to the minimum regulations stipulated in the Hague Convention, excluding privileges. In the second type of camp the technical maintenance and the diet were far below the minimum demands. As a result there were many cases of malnutrition and epidemics. The third type of camp was designated for Communists and elements of the officer corps who proved loyal to the Soviet Union. The regime in this type of camp was like that in a disciplinary battalion, with many punishments, including death by shooting, with or without proper legal procedure.12 When we take into consideration the fact that there were 4,537,450 Russian POWs, the largest contingent of POWs in the Great War, we can understand the concern and the consequences of this experience. When Zhdanov spoke on 16 January 1928, to the meeting of the international section of the Soviet legal community, he urged the gathering to prepare for coming international events. He based the juridical part of his talk on the work of E.A.Korovin (Mezhdunarodnoye pravo perekhodnogo vremeni) although upon analysis there are some differences between the suggestions made in 1922 by Korovin and those


made by Zhdanov in 1928.13 The USSR however did not participate in the 1929 Geneva Conference, nor was it invited to take part, for reasons of principle as well as politics.14 Some of the reasons of principle were touched upon above and will be dealt with in some detail later on. The political reasons, however, are as significant and may throw some light on the difficulties encountered eventually, during the Second World War. Both the problems of wounded and sick soldiers in the field and the problem of the treatment of POWs were dealt with on parallel lines by the International Red Cross and by governments. The centre of the International Red Cross was in Geneva but the Russian Red Cross addressed its application for membership to the President of the American Red Cross, through the good services of the Swedish Red Cross.15 Since the October Revolution and until after the Second World War Swiss-Soviet relationships were strained. The Swiss Government was under strong pressure from Socialist and Communist organizations, which sometimes staged large demonstrations in the streets. (The Swiss Communist Party was established in March 1921 and disbanded by the Swiss Government in August 1940.) Such demonstrations were dispersed by force with resulting bloodshed. The Soviet delegation to Switzerland in 1918 was accused by the Swiss Government of disseminating propaganda and was escorted by the Army to the border to be expelled from the country. The relationships between the two governments deteriorated further when a Soviet delegate to the Lausanne Conference, (1923) Mr Vorovsky, was assassinated by a Swiss citizen. The Swiss Government not only released the suspect but also ignored a Soviet memorandum relating to the affair. As a result of this sequence of events the Soviet Government refused to answer a Swiss démarche asking if the Soviet Government still held to the position taken in 1815 by the Russian Government, recognizing the neutrality of Switzerland. The Central Executive Committee and the Council of Commissars promulgated a decree, according to which the Soviet Government boycotted the Swiss Government16 and the Russian Red Cross refused to participate in the International Conference of the Red Cross which convened in Geneva in 1923.17 In 1931 the Swiss Federal Council refused to allow the Soviet Government to take part in an international art exhibition.18 Although in 1933 the Swiss Government decided to develop trade with Russia, in 1934 it voted together with Portugal and The Netherlands against the acceptance of the Soviet Union as a member of the League of Nations. In 1939 though, the Swiss Government abstained in the League of Nations when the


organization decided to expel the USSR because of its attack against Finland. The reason was that according to the Swiss constitution the government is prohibited from participation in international sanctions.19 The Swiss Government then quelled by force the Socialist and Communist organizations and refused to establish diplomatic relationships with the Soviet Government, and the Soviet Government retaliated by boycotting the Swiss Government and by an attempt to damage two values cherished by this Government: its neutrality and the International Red Cross. In 1929 two most important conventions were signed in Geneva: the Geneva Convention for the Amelioration of the Condition of the Wounded and Sick in Armies in the Field (27 July 1929); and the Convention of 27 July 1929, Relative to the Treatment of Prisoners of War. The Soviet Union did not participate in this conference, although it was a signatory to The Hague Convention of 1907. The Soviet Government formally accepted by accessions, as of 26 March 1932, the first convention but has never accepted the second. Soviet-Swiss relationships remained in abeyance until after the Second World War. THE SOVIET GOVERNMENTS WARTIME ATTITUDE TO ITS POWs Nazi Germany and Soviet Russia did not make their attitude to the other side’s POWs reciprocally dependent. Nazi Germany preplanned a bestial attitude towards Soviet POWs and carried out this plan to the letter. If anything, the German attitude hardened as the war went on. Soviet attitude towards German POWs was on the whole correct,20 according to the international conventions this Government adhered to, with some exceptions and accesses, in particular towards war criminals and in holding on to the German POWs after the outbreak of the Cold War. The German attitude towards Soviet POWs is beyond the scope of this study and it is mentioned here only because it had repercussions on the Soviet attitude towards the 1929 Geneva Conventions and on the relationships inside the Grand Alliance. The interest of this study remains the analysis of the Soviet attitude towards Soviet POWs during and after the Great Patriotic War. Although the USSR expected a German attack sooner or later, the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact notwithstanding, the operational and the tactical conduct of the onslaught caught the Soviet High Command and the political leadership operationally and tactically unawares. Despite forebodings, the Soviet leadership could not know, nor could it perceive


of the systematic plan prepared by the German political leadership, with the approval of the military, to annihilate significant sections of the POW cohorts and to treat the rest as vermin and later as slaves.21 The speed of the advance was only a rationalization and a goad to accomplish the premeditated programme for destroying the Soviet regime and annihilating its fighting force. This programme involved the deliberate massacre of commissars and Jews in the Army and the repudiation of any military ethics, either with regard to POWs or to the civilian population. While it was not at all easy to deal with a great number of POWs, there was in fact no plan to treat them properly anyway. The German route of advance led through the vulnerable, perhaps alarmed but operationally unprepared, borders of the Soviet Union, which were nevertheless defended by some crack units and professional soldiers, who fought gallantly to the death, or until they ran out of ammunition, and then, isolated and haggard, were either captured or desperately struggled to rejoin their units. Many of these became fugitives and eventually formed the nucleus of the Soviet partisan movement However, when the fighting along the borders came to an end, the Red Army found itself retreating deeper and still deeper inland, through sections of the USSR that had been annexed only recently (1939–40) and through a land that had suffered particular losses at the hands of Stalin, during the Collectivization period.22 German bestiality unfolded in stages and although rumours were spreading, in a country with poor communication and under a ruthless repression, it took a while before the real choice between the trials of Stalin’s terrorist regime and the horrors of the murderous Nazi regime, became clear. That choice had to be made by the civilian population and by the remnants of defeated and dispersed military units. When the Soviet political and military leadership recovered from the first shock of the surprise attack and the German ‘blitzkrieg’, it became painfully aware of that choice and of the need to stem the rout At about that time—July– August 1941—the number of Soviet POWs according to German calculations was nearly 1.5 million.23 The first period of the war—from 22 June to December 1941—is called in Soviet historical and military literature ‘the period of strategic defence’. One may perhaps argue how much strategy, that is planning, and how much the blind instinct for survival of a great Army, saved the USSR in those grim days, but there is no argument about the amount of tactical and operational ineptitude, loss of morale and utter chaos, which prevailed in many combat theatres. Indeed, only an army that was


basically highly motivated, well organized and disciplined, could survive the first weeks of the ingeniously planned and precisely executed German attack. Planning in the Stavka (Colloquially, the Head Quarters) notwithstanding, individual commanders in the field, let alone individual soldiers, were subject to immediate problems of life and death. They were not the planners of far reaching strategic schemes and could serve only diminishing roles in the strategic planning of the High Command, contingent on their individual courage and stamina. In actual fact the German surprise attack did not allow the Red Army the respite needed for strategic and operational planning and forced it to abandon ground. The local superiority of the Germans along the three main directions of their advance and their superiority in mobility and in the air inflicted heavy casualties on the Red Army. The lack of planning and the abandonment of territory in the course of launching ferocious and at times hopeless counter-attacks, all the time withdrawing gradually eastward, caused communication breakdowns between commanders and their units, between command posts and the battlefield and between Moscow and the front. One result was haphazard and indeed a hapless reinforcement by small units sent to the wrong place at the wrong time with too little or inadequate equipment. This situation allowed the Germans to execute some of the largest envelopingencircling military operations in the history of warfare.24 As a consequence many formations of the Red Army suffered frustration, exasperation, apathy and shock. These sensations combined to produce very large numbers of prisoners of war. The capture of so many soldiers at a time of confusion, anxiety, national alarm and disruption of communication brought about extremely complicated relations between the fighting Army and its defeated units, as well as between the leadership, partially or wholly responsible for the catastrophe, and the harassed commanding officers at the front. The attitude towards the POWs was set at this junction, when measures were taken to restructure the High Command, at a time when the Soviet Armed Forces did not even have a Commander-in-Chief. ORDER NO. 270 ‘Decree of the ‘Stavka’ of the Red Army Supreme High Command, Number 270, 16 August 1941’ set the tone and the attitude. It is a strange document. It was not addressed to the fighting Army in the field, although the Army was its subject. It was a Party instruction


directed to ‘All members and candidate members of the C.C. VKP(b); Secretaries of the regional and territorial committees; C.C. of the Communist Party of the Federal Republics; Chairmen of the Provincial Executive Committees, Councils of People Commissars of the Republics; All secretaries of the regional, municipal and chairmen of districts and town committees.’ The decree was not to be published and indeed it was not known outside the borders of the Soviet Union.25 In fact, although the Army at large was the subject of that document and some commanders were named in particular as culprits, one operational aspect of the document, at least for the duration of the war, was directed against the families of serving soldiers and officers. ORDER: 1 Commanders and political workers who during battle tore their insignia and deserted to the rear, or gave themselves up as prisoners should be considered criminal deserters and their families be subject to arrest as families of deserters, who breached their oath and betrayed their Homeland. Higher ranking commanders and commissars must shoot out of hand such deserters amongst the commanding officers. 2 Having been surrounded by the enemy, units and sub-units should selflessly fight to the utmost, cherishing their equipment as the apple of their eyes, to break out in order to reunite with their units at the rear of the enemy, inflicting defeat on the Fascist dogs. 3 Commanders and commissars of the Divisions must immediately remove from their posts, commanders of battalions and companies who were hiding in the trenches at the time of battle and were afraid to lead the course of combat on the battlefield, demote them as imposters, reduce them to the rank of privates and if necessary shoot them on the spot. Replace them by bold, courageous people from amongst the junior command or from amongst the outstanding soldiers. The order should be read in all the regiments, cavalry squadrons, batteries, air squadrons, commands and headquarters.26 The effect of this order was devastating and long lasting, although it did not necessarily produce the results expected by its authors. The reasons for promulgating the document at the time, as they can be inferred from its formulation, vary in nature and purpose. In the first place it was an


internal Party proclamation that the Red Army was fighting heroically. Some examples were set as a model of behaviour. This first intention of the document, as stated therein, was forfeited when the decree was not published for all to see. Secondly, it was meant to exorcise the scourge of the German enveloping operations and the same examples were presented to show that units may find themselves ‘accidentally’ surrounded and that they should fight on and break out ‘in order to defeat the enemy’. Where there are heroes there are also cowards. Several commanders were mentioned by name as bad examples. Thirdly, it was meant to intimidate commanders and soldiers alike, by making their families hostages in case they were captured by the enemy. Thus on the face of it, it was a document based mainly on the disciplinary code of the Red Army and was not very different from other such documents, but the clause about the families was a novelty not founded on Soviet, or any other law and the emphasis on summary punishment without reference to any juridical procedure, made it a unique document. It was also unique under the particular circumstances of the beginning of the war, in the light of the surprise attack. As the Red Army was caught unawares and had to abandon territory and suffer casualties in order to create the respite needed for counter-attack, every order, every document signed by Stalin served not only as an operational order but also as a corner stone for ‘the Stalin doctrine of war’, a figment of Stalin’s necessity to salvage his authority as the infallible dictator. The order then became not only an operational directive but also a sacred scripture of a new doctrine of war. ANALYSIS OF THE EFFECTS OF ORDER NO. 270 Stalin, Budenny, Voroshilov, Timoshenko, Shaposhnikov and Zhukov could not know the possible effects and repercussions of the draconian measure they had taken. Since we do not have the minutes of this fateful meeting we cannot tell whether it was an outburst of panic on the part of the signatories or a well deliberated and thought out order. However, it is now known that Shaposhnikov was forced by Stalin to sign the document and that Zhukov (whose name was added on to the list, as he was at the front at the time) had been relieved of his post as a COS after a heated argument with Stalin (29 July 1941). It was at the height of the battle for Kiev, when Zhukov who was familiar with the situation there, recommended to abandon the city and Stalin rebuked his


professional recommendation as chepukha (nonsense).27 It goes without saying that it was a draconian measure and that the clauses dealing with families of potential or actual POWs were a regression to the dark ages of warfare. Nevertheless, the only justification for such an order could be utilitarian, and the question therefore is: did it achieve its aim of reducing the number of POWs who ‘surrendered’ (sdalistsya) to the enemy? In the new picture of history drawn by Stalin and some of his accomplices, units were ‘accidentally’ surrounded, not as a result of so many political and military mistakes, and POWs ‘gave themselves up’ and ‘betrayed’ their Motherland and were not captured by the enemy for lack of ammunition, fatigue, lack of proper orders and exasperation. There is no mention of POWs ‘captured’ by the enemy. One way of assessing the results of this order is to look at the figures of POWs before and after the order was promulgated. According to German accounts the number of POWs in August was about 1,300,000 (as mentioned above) and in February 1942, 3.9 million.28 Some of the greatest German encircling operations were yet to come: Kiev—26 September 1941; Briansk and Viasma—13 October 1941. Indeed, a monthly breakdown of POWs captured show that by August, that is before Order No. 270 was promulgated, the Germans captured about 1.5 million POWs and by mid-October yet again the same number.29 However, the logic of the argument is casuistic. Even if we assume that the Red Army responded to the order with alacrity, the first tangible results could be shown only by the end of the battle for Moscow (January 1942). But after Moscow there was still the unsuccessful attempt to liberate Kharkov, (where 350,000 POWs were captured by the Germans), defeats in the Crimea, (where 240,000 POWs were captured),30 the advance to Stalingrad, and the indifferent results in the battles to lift the siege of Leningrad. Certainly, Soviet fighting capability was improving steadily and as a result, lesser numbers of POWs were captured by the Germans, (3,355,000 in 1941, 1,653,000 in 1942)31 but it would be counterproductive to attribute all these feats of arms to one order. The order could not have been conducive to better understanding between commanders and subordinates, certainly not under the circumstances of defeat, retreat and despondency. General Lukin, himself a former POW and a hero, related his experience during the battle of Smolensk. The soldiers of a proud army, says Lukin, found themselves without ammunition, surrounded by the enemy. They must have thought that their commanders had betrayed them. One soldier went as far as attacking him with his bayonet, crying: ‘The Generals


betrayed us’. This was soon after Stalin’s decree had been read, mentioning three generals who had been shot: Pavlov, Klimovskii and Grigorev and at about the same time that Order No. 270 was promulgated.32 If the morale of the troops was raised as a result of Order No. 270, it did not show, but there certainly was a deterioration in discipline and human relationships in the Army. In another decree signed by Stalin and Shaposhnikov (No. 0391), clause 3 states that some commanders and political workers lost their nerves under pressure and in a state of panic used their weapons against their subordinates, without any reason. In the operational part of the same order it states that indeed the Red Army must fight against deserters and traitors to death, but that corporal punishment, without legal procedure, has a bad effect on morale.33 Studying Orders No. 270 and 0391 we can see that the Red Army High Command did not find the middle way between draconian measures and appeal to the understanding of the soldiers. On the contrary, the latter order proves that the first one had been too harsh and that it created unnecessary tension between rank and file. Nor is it easy to prove that the number of POWs diminished as a result of the first order. Even if in due course the Soviet authorities could provide the monthly figures for POWs captured by the enemy, and even if these figures would show that the numbers indeed diminished, it might prove well nigh impossible to isolate the one dominant variable, which is the reason why so many POWs were captured at one time and fewer at another. It would most probably be impossible to prove that harsh measures threatened or taken against families, boosted the morale of the fighting Army in the field.34 We must conclude then, that, since in Stalin’s time, public opinion at large was non-existent and public opinion inside the Communist Party non-operative, decisions of the leadership reflected personal reactions of a myopic group which had to operate under enormous stress, with little or no military experience. Of the six people who signed Order No. 270, one—Stalin—did not have any military experience; Voroshilov’s and Budenny’s experience, as commanders of large formations, had been acquired in the Civil War, which was so different from the type of war forced on the Soviet Union by the Germans. Of the three professionals, Zhukov was away, and Timoshenko and Shaposhnikov were losing what little influence they might have had on political decisions, in the first chaotic days of the war, when the lines of command were still fluid. The overpowering personality of Stalin—pure ruthlessness not yet moderated by hard-won


military experience and a modicum of respect for the experience and the expertise of professional military commanders—carried the day. The effects of Order No. 270 lasted for many years. At least as long as Stalin was still around it was difficult to change its impact, or to get to the bottom of its more specific, most tragic accusations. After Stalin’s death not only were most of the POWs rehabilitated (quite a few, posthumously) but renewed investigations also proved that all the sweeping accusations made against generals, who had been mentioned by name in the infamous order were false, circumstantial and certainly not liable to a death sentence. The new inquiry which started in 1952 proved that it was difficult if not impossible to establish the guilt or the innocence of a man, be it even a high ranking officer, in the heat of battle and under the impact of the German surprise attack and its aftermath. General Kachalov, for instance, had never been a POW, he died on the battlefield, trying to break out of a German encirclement, on 4 August 1941, during the battle of Smolensk. With regard to MajorGeneral Ponedelin, even his rank was mistaken in Order No. 270, where he was quoted as Lieutenant-General. In his case it was established on 13 March 1956 that he had been wrongly accused of unjustified surrender on 7 August 1941, and of informing the Germans about the disposition of the 6th and the 12th Armies. He had also been accused of harbouring anti-Soviet sentiments and of holding views against Collectivization. Major-General Kirilov was rehabilitated on February 23, 1956. It is noteworthy that several of the witnesses who had accused the three Generals based their accusations on hearsay and testified later that they had been influenced at the time by Order No. 270.35 It is also worth mentioning that among the witnesses who testified in the rehabilitation trials of 1952 and 1955, there were several former inmates of German POW camps. One of those was General Lukin who struggled to clear his own name and to portray a new picture of the Soviet POW as a fighter against Fascism even in captivity. Lukin’s reception as a hero in Rostov on the Don, when he visited with Michael Alexandrovich Sholokhov in 1964, was a somewhat belated compensation for the grim reception of several repatriated generals in June 1945.36 THE ATTITUDE ON THE BATTLEFIELD Soviet official attitude was suspicious towards people who lost contact with the main body of the Red Army, either because their units were encircled, or because they failed to rejoin their units and later joined the


partisans, or else because they were captured by the enemy. Invariably they were liable to interrogations or worse. Order No. 270 set the tone on two scores: a) it described encirclement as an accident; and b) it made it the duty of a soldier, a commander and a unit to break out of encirclement Ignoring the encirclements as a phenomenon resulting from the initial German success and the Soviet unpreparedness, the order attributed the encirclements to either a mishap or a deficiency on the part of soldiers and commanders. The implication was that the Soviet leadership was not to blame for the unfortunate situation at the beginning of the war. In its extreme this approach went as far as describing the initial defeats of the Red Army as some cunning trap, laid down by Stalin, to lure the Germans deep into the Soviet Union in order to defeat them there, at the end of extended lines of communications. In short, what might have been a simple device to make a virtue of necessity became a horror for many innocent soldiers and their families. If a unit, a soldier or a commander could not break out and join the main body of the Red Army, as was incumbent on them under field regulations (in the Red Army as well as in other armies, as demonstrated above) or if they did so after a lapse of time through which they became stragglers who had lost their weapons, they were to be blamed for their sad condition. Yes, they would be medically treated and eventually be reassigned, but not before a process of political discussions and security vetting. Bearing in mind the function of the political organs in the Red Army, the political process was not entirely out of place. Soldiers who came out of encirclement had had their first encounter with a mighty enemy and could see the Red Army at its worst The way to refit them for battle again was to cleanse their systems of shock and anxiety. The political apparatus of the Red Army was there to do exactly that. ‘Special service’ treatment though was different. It was sensible to let the GRU in for briefing, but the reputation of the NKVD was such that its introduction into the units for any reason at all must have been interpreted as insinuating some guilt.37 The shattering impact of the Stalin and Mekhlis Decree of 16 July and the Order No. 270 must have added to the dread of the ‘okruzhentsi’ (soldiers who broke out or escaped from German encirclement). During the first few months of the war the image of the Germans as triumphant conquerors was growing with every new defeat of the Red Army. No wonder that under the circum-stances rumours spread, in particular about German parachutists and strong tank formations which might materialize suddenly in the most unexpected sector of the front, or more often at the rear. At signs of panic or loss of nerve on the part


of commanders, the soldiers’ inclination was to run, to move away from the line of fire to the safety of the rear. Special measures were needed to cope with such situations. Where commanders were able to rise to such occasions they often found soldiers willing to obey. Sometimes it took brave generals who stood erect on the line of fire for their soldiers to see them, or the personality of a great commander like Koniev who could calm retreating soldiers by softly talking to them.38 On another occasion, Major-General Kharitonov and members of his staff went out to the front-line to stop the panic. The relaxed attitude of the General and his staff calmed down the frightened and disorganized soldiers. The usual method of escaping encirclement was to divide the troops into small units and to let each unit fend for itself, but there were other methods too. If a commander decided to break out of the ring of encirclement in an organized way he needed the full cooperation of his troops. It took a great deal of persuasion on the part of commanders but the results were better participation from the troops.39 The attitude was much harder towards liberated POWs. At the beginning of the war the Soviet Government had only a vague idea about the fate of Soviet POWs, but through intelligence reports and certainly after the Red Army started to liberate areas, where POW camps were situated, a gruesome picture began to emerge. The survivors of Nazi bestiality in the POW camps were a pitiful sight and yet all of them would have gone through the same NKVD grill if it was not for enormous depletion of manpower in the Red Army units throughout the war. (When Army-Group No. 11 liberated a POW camp in Staraya Rossa, the POWs, emaciated and ill, were marched 120km to the village Staraya Bolotnitsa, which served as an assembly-transition station.40) Soviet units, nearly always undermanned, were crying out for replenishment of troops. Such replenishment could be expected from several sources: 1 New recruits 2 Wounded soldiers after convalescence. 3 The few remaining able-bodied men in liberated areas. 4 Partisans in liberated areas. 5 Liberated POWs. Although it is true that the USSR enjoyed a larger potential for human resources than Germany, this advantage was not as obvious in 1942 as it had been in theory. Several reasons combined to deplete the Soviet human resources. In the first place the enormous losses at the beginning


of the war, which had been telling not only in sheer numbers but also in the quality of soldiers lost. Many seasoned and professional soldiers perished along the western borders, and in the bloody battles of the first six months of war, while the military body, the administration, the leadership and the economy were still recovering from the horrendous impact of the surprise attack. At the beginning of 1942, casualties accounted for included inter alia, at least three million POWs who had been captured between June 1941 and February 1942. No matter what figures were used at the time by the belligerents for political and security reasons, the impact of the enormous depletion could not have been a secret to the commanders of units, large or small. Out of 74 rifle divisions prepared for the Kharkov operation at the beginning of 1942, only three enjoyed the benefit of three-quarters of their manpower, as set out in regulations; the rest of them had to do with only half their establishment of forces.41 In its frantic efforts to stem the rout at the beginning of the war, the Stavka had to curtail the training periods for new recruits, thus, saving time but sacrificing proficiency and multiplying casualties, all the time maintaining sufficient number of divisions in the Far East, in case Japan decided to attack after all. Even at the height of the battle for Moscow, no less than 25 divisions, albeit with a reduced establishment of forces, were maintained in the Far East, facing Japan. In the middle of 1942 the number of casualties and the number of new recruits were almost even. By 1942 the best part of European Russia was occupied by the enemy, entailing a further loss of potential enlistment When these areas were liberated by the Red Army, beginning in 1943 and more rapidly in 1944, the population therein was a sad shadow of what it had been before the German occupation. Hunger, massacres, flights and forced deportations for slave labour in Germany, took their toll.42 Partisans in liberated areas were indeed incorporated willingly by the commanders in the field, but the process was not at all straightforward.43 Many of the partisans were either former stragglers or escaped POWs, with all the suspicions involved, and subject to the further complications of the instructions entailed in Order No. 270. Furthermore, in the years of guerrilla fighting they had developed some freedom of mind and action, incompatible with the rigid regulations of a conventional army. Where the need for replenishment prevailed, such partisans, who wished to join, were welcomed by the units without much ado; the rest was a matter of personal adjustment by individual commanders and former partisans. In places where the NKVD was notified in advance, the procedure was arduous and painful. According


to many Soviet accounts the contribution of the partisan movement to the war effort was enormous. In the first place it was engaged in largescale sabotage, disturbing German communications and harassing small garrison units. Secondly, it provided invaluable information. During the campaigns of 1943 and 1944 partisan units cooperated with Red Army units in some most complicated operations, involving ground units and air force.44 The stigma surrounding the POWs was so painful that many of the escaping POWs had to struggle with it all through their heroic adventures. ‘Despite the mortal dangers in the camps, despite their awareness of the fact that at home they would be treated as traitors, thousands of the POWs did not succumb to the Hitlerite’s conditions.’ These POWs fought together with the Poles, died in the battle against the same enemy, but throughout they were tormented by the thought: will they, former POWs, be accepted in their own country. Unfortunately, very often their apprehensions were found to be justified. On several occasions they were helped by the evidence of their Polish comrades.45 For purposes of analysis it is important to bear in mind that not only the bare facts count, thus, in particular after Stalin’s death, the very mention of cooperation between regular units and partisans, made it difficult to continue the stigma against all stragglers and all POWs, so many of whom found their way to the partisan movement, or became its leaders. On some rare occasions in Soviet military writings there is a qualified but not negative mention of POWs.46 The same model also applied where liberated POWs were concerned47 with two significant differences: many of the liberated POWs were in no physical condition for any immediate exertions; they were actually in need of intensive medical care, that was sometimes beyond the resources of small units.48 Many were actually terribly ill, quite a few contracted contagious diseases.49 The annihilating war conducted by the Germans in the East, presented Red Army soldiers and commanders with some idiosyncratic problems not often encountered in modern warfare. Some German units used captured POWs as a human shield to protect their columns.50 Even if such cases were sporadic, or even if there was no ill intention on the part of the captors and the Soviet POWs were simply caught in the line of fire, such occasions nevertheless brought into sharp relief the moral issues of the German-


Soviet war. Whether or not high ranking officers in the field were bound by orders from above, operational considerations compelled them to open fire on their own captured men, in order to get at the Germans. However, the commanders in the field refused to do so.51 THE DIPLOMATIC STRUGGLE DURING THE WAR The German authorities had worked out their attitude towards Soviet POWs long before the war, with no regard to a possible lenient Soviet attitude towards German POWs. Assumed Soviet harsh treatment of German POWs was used as an argument before the war, to convince certain sceptical German military men who maintained some ‘old fashioned’ ethical positions in matters of military conduct. The experience of British, French and other European POWs between September 1939 and August 1941, could not have led their governments, let alone the US Government, to suspect the Germans of foul play on the Eastern Front Therefore, the first diplomatic exchanges between the American and the Soviet Governments, in August 1941, bore all the signs of regular governmental-official treatment. Some earlier feeble attempts by the International Red Cross proved to be a complete failure. For instance, at the beginning of August 1941, two members of the ICRC in Berlin, M.Carl Burckhardt and M.Edouard de Haller, began to examine the problems of Soviet POWs. On this occasion, they were invited to visit a camp at Hammerstein, in which recently captured Soviet POWs were detained. This exceptional visit did not have the same character as the visits carried out, according to uniform rules, by the accredited delegates of the ICRC. No report was therefore written on it. According to the Red Cross report, the German Government passed on only one list of Soviet POWs with about 300 names, throughout the war.52 By September however, when the Germans had captured approximately one and a half million POWs and the rate of death in the POW camps was about 30 per cent, owing to German premeditated brutality, Red Cross conventional attempts at mediating between the German and the Soviet Governments came to a halt.53 The diplomatic struggle between the allies, in particular between the US and the Soviet Governments, was unfolding in stages, revealing aspects that had not been obvious at the outset. The Soviet Government


deliberately kept vague its attitude to the ‘Geneva Convention Relative to the Treatment of POWs (1929)’, by emphasizing its adherence to several other conventions.54 As early as August 1941, Molotov stated explicitly that The Soviet Government considers it however, necessary to state that in view of the systematic violation by Hitlerite Germany of international agreements and conventions, the Soviet Government shall observe with respect to Germany, the above mentioned treaties and conventions only insofar as they are observed by Germany. The State Department first showed interest in the Soviet Government’s position ‘As a signatory of the Prisoners of War Convention of 1929,… and because of its humanitarian interest in the treatment accorded prisoners of war’.55 However, as time went by, other interests surfaced. In October 1941, the Soviet Government was privy to better information about the fate of Soviet POWs in the hands of the Germans, therefore it informed the American Red Cross representatives in the USSR that ‘they considered it unnecessary to adhere to this convention as the Soviet Government is already giving far better treatment to German prisoners than Germany is giving to Soviet prisoners.’ Old State interests also surfaced in the American-Soviet discussions: The point of view was also expressed that the Soviet Government is unwilling to adhere to this convention because of its attitude toward Switzerland, whose failure to recognize the Soviet regime has long been resented.’56 The Soviet Government also objected to Article 94 of the Convention.57 While these exchanges were running to and fro, the German Government pounced on the propaganda opportunity offered to it by the refusal of the Soviet Government to adhere to the 1929 Geneva Convention. The State Department learned that ‘the provisions of the Geneva Convention are not being applied in Germany to Soviet prisoners of war because the Soviet Union not being a party to the Convention, there is no obligation upon Germany to apply its provisions to Soviet prisoners under German control.’ It was a blunt lie. The 1929 Geneva Convention was binding upon any belligerent, even if its enemy was not a signatory to the Convention, (Article 82, ‘In case, in time of war, one of the belligerents is not a party to the Convention, its provisions shall nevertheless remain in force as between the belligerents who are parties thereto’). Some time elapsed before the point was clarified and in the meantime, enjoying the benefit of the doubt, Nazi


Germany could go on murdering Soviet POWs. Probably, under the influence of German rumours Information reaching the Department indicates that if this situation continues, the treatment not only of Soviet prisoners of war but of all other prisoners of war in Germany may become worse. In the interest, therefore, not only of Soviet prisoners of war but of all prisoners of war in various countries, it is hoped that the Soviet Government will find it possible to indicate officially its willingness to apply the provisions of the Convention to German and associated prisoners of war in case the German Government indicates that it is prepared likewise to apply the provisions to Soviet prisoners of war.58 Some of the arguments used by the State Department at the time give us an indication as to how naive and ignorant diplomats were of the vicious Nazi disposition: Please convey substance of the foregoing to the appropriate Swedish authorities… The Swedish Government, for example, could point out to the Soviet Government from observation by Swedish representatives in Germany the nature of the protection the Department’s representatives have been enabled by the Geneva Convention to afford the British and Belgian prisoners of war in Germany, a protection which the Swedish representatives will scarcely be able to extend to Soviet prisoners in the absence of an agreement between the Soviet and German Governments reciprocally to apply the Convention or provisions similar thereto.59 In doing so the US Government was most probably acting as a mouthpiece for British concerns, but in the meantime it also served, unwittingly, Germany’s propaganda aims. Later on during the war Germany used the same ploy of threatening or actually reducing the standard of living of British or American POWs, in order to protest against treatment of German POWs. (Such was the case when German POWs were put in the custody of Jewish guards in Palestine in 1943.60) Upon analysis we find that behind the real problem of the POWs was the clash of several interests. In 1942 the USSR had only a slight incentive to adhere to the Geneva Convention, but did it have any in 1941? Hardly. During the first six desperate months of the war there were actually disincentives to deal with the problem. As in any other


country, the diabolical dimensions of Hitler’s designs in the USSR were unknown to the Soviet Government and the few known details were incredible. The very first Soviet reactions were conventional, based on the assumption that hard as the lot of POWs might be, it could not mean death. Even Order No. 270 may be explained now in the light of this assumption. If Red Army soldiers were faced with a choice between two alternatives a hard, but not unbearable time in a German POW camp, or continuing fighting in the almost unbearable conditions that had developed along the Western borders of the Soviet Union at the beginning of the war, they might choose the former. The way to make this alternative unattractive was to add the vengeance of the Soviet State to the hardships of a German POW camp. It follows then that, if the Soviet Government thought at some time between June and August 1941 that its POWs were going to suffer in German hands but would not die, it might well have thought that although some negotiations with Germany may have been possible to ameliorate the suffering, it was not interested in such negotiations. The situation changed radically when the Soviet authorities realized what had been going on since the beginning of the war. When it was established through intelligence reports that Germany actually waived any ethical rules in its treatment of the Soviet POWs, there was no incentive left at all for any diplomatic contact between the Soviet and the German Governments. Indeed, from this point onward any attempt at civilized negotiations with the German Government could only have served the German propaganda machine. No matter how compassionate other governments may have been with regard to the Soviet POWs, there were several stumbling blocks on the way straightforward understanding between the Soviet Government and the governments of its allies, Britain and the USA: 1 The Soviet Government was suspicious of Western motives even without the added burden of crisis. 2 German proclivity towards Soviet POWs as compared to treatment meted out to say, British POWs, exacerbated Soviet suspicions of alien motives. 3 The unchanged predilection of the Swiss Government towards the Soviet Union. 4 The German refusal to allow any international supervision of Soviet POW camps. The most authoritative and definitive Soviet reply to the diplomatic correspondence which started at the beginning of the war was given on


26 November 1941. In his note, Vyshinski left no doubt that the Soviet Government was well aware of German atrocities, that the Soviet Union was prepared to respect the Hague and the 1929 Geneva Conventions and that it had already made this position absolutely clear on 17 July to the Swedish Government and on 8 August 1941, to all Embassies and Legations accredited to the Government of the USSR. The note went on to explain why the Soviet Government could not sign the 1929 Geneva Convention although in practice it respected its appropriate articles regarding the treatment of POWs.61 All these factors were brought into sharp relief as the diplomatic exchange between the US and the Soviet Government went on. It seems that the US Charge d’affairs in the Soviet Union (Thurston) did not believe that the Soviet failure to adhere to the 1929 Geneva Convention was related to the contradiction in terms between Article 9 of the Convention and Article 123 of the 1936 Soviet Constitution. He attributed the Soviet refusal to a reluctance to have German POW camps in the Soviet Union inspected by international representatives and thought that the USSR’s concern for the fate of Soviet POWs in Germany would induce the Soviet Government eventually to agree to reciprocal inspection. At least part of this attitude proved to be an incomprehension of German war ethics in the East. Indeed, the Soviet Government adamantly refused to allow inspection of German POW camps in the Soviet Union but for different reasons. In the first place the number of German POWs in 1941 was small, too small for propaganda purposes, or for use as a leverage to bring pressure to bear on the German Government. Secondly, and far more important, any pretension of reciprocity with the Germans given the background of the information that the Soviet Government possessed would have played directly into German hands without helping Soviet POWs at all. As became apparent after the war the Soviet treatment of German POWs was generally correct and in accordance with the conventions mentioned in Soviet notes to other governments. On 30 December 1941, the US Government decided to drop the issue for the time being. The next opportunity to raise the issue with the Soviet Government presented itself when Molotov made a state visit to the USA. Amongst other topics the President suggested that the Soviet and the German Governments exchange at least lists of POWs’ names. By May 1942 the Soviet Government had full reports about German brutalities from Polish, Czech and Russian agents. In particular there was a direct report given by 25 Soviet POWs who escaped from Norway to Sweden.


Mr. Molotov replied with emphasis that his government was not disposed to negotiate any arrangement with the Germans which would give the latter the slightest pretext for claiming that they (the Germans) were observing any rules whatever, because the fact was they were not doing so.62 Other attempts at diplomatic intervention were neither in good taste nor more successful. On 26 September 1942 the Pope sent a message to the President of the USA after ‘Receiving countless heart-rending appeals, especially in recent months from Italy and Rumania, for news of prisoners of war in the hands of the Russians’.63 The message of the Pope included also a list of 153 names of Soviet POWs, however, ‘No information concerning the welfare or whereabouts of the prisoners is included’. The letter attached to the list of POWs refers back to Molotov’s visit to Washington. Admiral William H.Standley, American Ambassador in Kuibishev recalls his conversation with Molotov on that occasion and adds that ‘Mr. Molotov, however, peremptorily and abruptly dismissed the subject and refused to discuss it, indicating that he had no interest in Russian prisoners in German hands and no desire to give any information about German prisoners held by the Soviets.’ When the Pope responded to the ‘heart-rending’ appeals of Italian and Romanian families concerning the fate of POWs held by the Russians, most of the 3.5 million Soviet POWs had already died, either brutally murdered by the Germans or from starvation. It is not difficult to guess how indignant the Soviet authorities must have felt to receive a list of 153 names of Soviet POWs through the good services of the Vatican. At this stage it seemed obvious that the Soviet Government did not consider diplomatic avenues to be helpful in ameliorating the conditions of its POWs in German hands. It may be argued that any effort ought to have been made at the time even against all odds, and that by the mere show of compassion, the Soviet Government might have demonstrated its care for its nationals. However, on the basis of the available data we may sum up that at the beginning of the war, panic and inconsiderateness on the part of the Soviet leadership, in particular on the part of Stalin, and complete misconception of the nature of Nazi war conduct and war aims in the East, on the part of the USA and other governments, combined to create a hostile environment for diplomatic efforts. It should be added though, that it was most unlikely that any diplomatic efforts would have helped the Soviet POWs at the early stage of the war. Later on positions hardened and any voice of reason


was drowned in the German orgy of destruction and brutality and in the roar of Soviet vengeance and retaliation.64 THE SITUATION TOWARDS THE END OF THE WAR These futile, sometimes righteous diplomatic exchanges provided the background to the bitter relationships that developed later on towards the end of the war, when the problem of repatriation became the order of the day. What then were the difficulties concerning the repatriation of POWs? 1 Towards the end of the war the Grand Alliance was torn apart at the seams. Former allies became potential enemies in the ensuing Cold War. 2 The USSR and its former allies had different interpretations of citizenship. 3 The USA and Great Britain did not recognize the new borders of the USSR and could not accept the Soviet retroactive definition of its nationals. 4 The Soviet Government was a victim of its grim past, not only of the infamous purges of Stalin, but also of the terrible pressure under which decisions (like Order No. 270, for instance) had been taken at the beginning of the war. When the war drew to its end, there were millions of POWs and refugees in areas still occupied by Germany and in the already liberated countries. It was easier to agree on a policy of repatriation, as the allies did in Yalta (11 February 1945), than to carry it out. In the first place the USSR, the victor, was quite different from the country that had been the victim of the German surprise attack on 22 June 1941. In fact, the USSR borders had seen several changes in the span of six years between 1939 and 1945. Such changes involved not only huge territories but also tremendous changes of political-cum-national nature. The idea of Soviet citizenship has never been very clear and it was further befuddled by the annexation of Moldavia, parts of Poland and the Baltic States. Only years after the death of Stalin, when glasnost• allowed for soul searching, it became apparent that the attempt to create a cohesive Soviet nation had left much to be desired. Secondly, it was convenient during the war to present the Grand Alliance as a joint effort of Democracy against Tyranny. As soon as the war was nearing its end the


philosophical discrepancies between Great Britain and the USA on the one hand and the USSR on the other, surfaced again. Several POW camps were located in the areas liberated by the Allies in North Africa, Italy, France, Finland, Poland, Romania, Hungary and Germany. Also, in the course of fighting the Allies captured many German POWs. Among these later captives, in particular, there were many Russian or Soviet nationals in German uniforms. Quite a few of the German POWs were shipped to the USA under the general assumption that a soldier’s nationality corresponds to his uniform. The problem assumed large proportions because at first the Soviet authorities refused to acknowledge the existence of Soviet nationals who had fought in German uniforms: On July, 1944 a representative of the staff of General Eisenhower had made at the press conference in London an extremely ambiguous statement regarding Soviet prisoners of war in the German Army. In this statement the text of which I am enclosing herewith, is contained a number of improbable and evidently fictitious data, concerning Soviet citizens in military service, drawn, apparently, from German sources.65 The text of the alleged statement was annexed to the effect that: The Russians are serving in the German Army. Here is a typical example how the Russian soldiers are forced to join the German service.’66 An elaborated denial by General Eisenhower followed which actually confirmed the facts: General Eisenhower adds that news stories in substantially the tenor of the statement forwarded by the Soviet Embassy were filed from Normandy by Associated Press and United Press war correspondents. These stories were passed by SHAEF [Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force] censorship since security was not involved.67 In a short while the Soviet authorities changed their basic approach and emphasized the brutal enforcement of Soviet nationals who were enlisted into the German Army under threats to their lives. Once a cognizance was taken by the Soviet Government of former Red Army men serving in German uniform, the inter-governmental dispute was no less bitter but more poignant. The USA stated its position in perspicuous terms:


There have been taken by the forces operating in France under the Supreme Commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force a number of Soviet citizens or nationals possibly including Russians not of Soviet nationality who were found serving in the organization Todt or in other German military or semi-military bodies… 1 So long as they remain in American custody they continue to have the status of German prisoners of war and to enjoy treatment in accordance with the provisions of the Geneva Prisoners of War Convention… 2 In order to avoid the risk of reprisals against American nationals in enemy hands no persons taken as German prisoners of war have been delivered to Allied Governments against their wills.68 These and other messages exchanged at the time, in one administration or between countries, paved the way to the Yalta Conference with its accords and repercussions. Just prior to the Yalta Conference the Soviet Government made its position clear in plain terms. It is well known that the Germans, in violation of generally recognized rules of international law, not infrequently force Soviet prisoners of war by means of threats and reprisals, to join special units organized by the Germans, which are employed in various war works, among others, close to the rear of the German Army… It is quite obvious that all these persons, without regard to the uniform they were wearing at the moment of their liberation, the work at which they were employed and the units to which they were assigned, at the time when they were under the domination of the Hitlerites, continue to be Soviet citizens… It is incomprehensible why the determination of persons who are Soviet citizens should be made only by means of personal declarations.69 This Soviet note is an acknowledgement of the fact that there had been Soviet citizens serving in the German Army as well as a statement of principle on citizens’ rights. However, the note utterly disregards the possibility that quite a few Soviet citizens served in the German Army out of conviction, as an act of defiance against Communism and for nationalistic reasons. Escaped POWs were a special case, in particular those who found their way to Switzerland. By the end of the war there were about ten


thousand Soviet nationals in Swiss camps, mostly escaped POWs. The Soviet Government had bitter complaints against the treatment of these people by the Swiss authorities. Eventually a vehement campaign was launched by the Soviet Government against the Swiss. Such campaigns became a sign of the times in the aftermath of the disruption caused by the war. Following the traditional tense relations between the Swiss and the Soviet Governments such campaigns caused some stir. Immediately after the end of the war in Europe a commission of inquiry was convened at Bern to investigate the Soviet allegations. The investigation commission consisted of four Soviet officers, a Swiss delegation of eight members and the French Military Attaché at Bern. The final meetings of the commission were attended by Brigadier-General Barnwell, R.Legge, American Military Attaché, Bern, and by the British Assistant Military Attaché. A selection of the Swiss replies to the Russian allegations may give some insight into the international atmosphere at the time. It may also clarify the Soviet attitude towards the Swiss Government and the International Red Cross whose centre was in Geneva. 1 …the Swiss delegation stated to the commission that, in accordance with international law, Switzerland has the right to grant asylum in accordance with its own judgment. It has received more than 270,000 refugees of all nationalities… It is true that Soviet citizens were turned back at the frontier. The Swiss delegation regrets the resulting harm to them. As to the case in which the local Swiss authorities turned over to the Germans the body of a Soviet citizen killed on Swiss territory by German guards, the Swiss delegation does not contest this fact and expresses its regrets to the Soviet delegation. 2 …faults were unfortunately committed with regard to Soviet citizens, such as deprival of leave, restrictions on reading matter, detention in prison, and inexpedient use of dogs and firearms which created incidents involving the regrettable death of Soviet refugees. 3 …in spite of Swiss regulations against the use of propaganda against all foreign states including Soviet Russia, there were cases in which certain individuals entered Soviet refugee camps without the knowledge of the Swiss authorities but sometimes with the authorization of the camp commanders, and engaged in propaganda against the USSR.70


The treatment of Soviet POWs was a culmination of a long tradition of Swiss-Soviet relations dating back to the Russian Revolution of 1917. In a way this commission of investigation served as a catharsis after which the Swiss Government recognized the Soviet Government. THE ROOTS OF THE COLD WAR The roots of the Cold War should be sought in the disputes between the allies with regard to the conduct of the Second World War, the share of each ally in the war effort, the world order that should prevail after the war and the nature of the security which each of the former allies needed at a time of peace and rehabilitation. The last point was exacerbated by the fact that after Germany and Japan’s defeat, a threat to security could mean only a suspicion of ‘Communist expansion’ in the view of Great Britain and the USA and an ‘imperialist siege’ in the view of the USSR. Stalin had never been attentive to the susceptibilities of national aspirations. There was nothing in his recent experience as war lord to change his view that the USSR was in dire need of security and national unity. In his view of the world order, which should be established after the war, there was no room for relinquishing any of the territories conquered by the Red Army at such a high price. Towards the end of the war Stalin was interested in strategic depth not in human feelings, a point that was not lost on the Americans: The overriding consideration in Soviet foreign policy is the preoccupation with ‘security’, as Moscow sees it… The Soviet conception of ‘security’ does not appear cognizant of the similar needs or rights of other countries and of Russia’s obligation to accept the restraints as well as the benefits of an international security system.71 The all-sweeping repatriation agreements were incompatible with the cultural changes and the chaos created by Hitler’s diabolical ‘new order’, in which conservative values of loyalty and betrayal, cowardice and heroism lost their meaning. At the end of the war many Soviet citizens, either former Red Army soldiers or others were wearing German uniforms. Rumours of Order No. 270 reached many Soviet POWs when the war was still raging and probably through them also reached German intelligence. The former were rightly concerned about their fate after the war; at a time of reckoning, the latter used the information as yet another way to persuade POWs to betray their


country.72 The order as will be recalled was read to the units but was not distributed in writing. Most certainly it could not have reached the ears of those POWs who had been captured by the Germans before 16 August 1941. Thus: During questioning of 153 German prisoners of war of Soviet nationality the majority claimed that they had lost Soviet citizenship in July or August 1941 to the effect that any Soviet citizens captured by the enemy would be considered to be a traitor. Soviet officials who talked with these men stated that new decrees had been issued which provide that Soviet citizens who were captured by the enemy would not be considered as traitors and upon their return would be accorded same status as other Soviet citizens.73 Even under a more liberal and understanding government, the USSR would have been faced with an impossible task of repatriation. It goes without saying that Stalin’s Government was neither liberal nor understanding. Having won the war, Stalin set about rewriting its history in a way that would accommodate his and his colleagues blunders before and during the war. In the rewritten history of the Great Patriotic War there were no mistakes and every decision taken by Stalin during the war became not only the correct one but also a new postulate of Soviet military doctrine. Even in 1989 the military establishment was still struggling with Order No. 270 (and Order No.277, which will be dealt with in the following chapter): Severe orders. But they were necessary measures dictated by the tragic circumstances of 1941–1942… No matter how much injustice and how many factual mistakes have been brought to light today with regard to Orders 270 and 227, basically they were directed against the cowards, the confused, those who ineptly carried out their duties. In that respect these and other orders played a positive role in fortifying the troops steadfastness and in enhancing the resistance to the enemy.74 The contemporary military establishment is in no doubt about the immorality and illegality of Order No. 270 as far as the repression of families is concerned. However, ‘Being a POW will forever be judged in the military milieu, also as a disgrace’.75 Even those who had been mentioned by name in Order No. 270 and who were later found in


Soviet military courts after the war to be not guilty of the accusations for which some of them paid with their lives, even those who were rehabilitated: ‘Pavlov, Kachalov, Petelin and millions of others who had been POWs were not traitors, but one thing must be remembered—they walked out of the war, they did not stay on the battlefield.’76 The official Soviet military historian of the 1980s does not approve of collective punishment, he repudiates sweeping and unverified accusations, he defends the legal and the moral right of the individual soldier, but he looks askance at the phenomenon of becoming a prisoner of war. The cycle is now complete. The Soviet military establishment cannot afford to encourage its soldiers to become POWs and therefore it only glibly takes into consideration the innumerable situations in which individual soldiers can no longer resist. Precisely this kind of discussion was lacking in the USSR at the end of the war. There were either heroes or traitors because Stalin said so. Heroism and treason are both normative values which are constantly vacillating not only in the views of different countries but also in the assessment of one country at different times, or where there is a freedom of discussion, by different people. While the Second World War was still going on, most people, nationals of the Grand Alliance, perceived those who fought against Nazi Germany (and Japan) as heroes, whereas collaborators were perceived as traitors. But as soon as the war was over and the USSR was perceived in the West at first as a difficult rival and later on as an enemy in the Cold War, its feats of arms were forgotten. The alleged analogy between the Nazi and the Soviet regimes confused the issues not only of the repatriation of POWs, while the process was still in progress, but also of the main issue of the recent World War, namely who was the real enemy. In Great Britain there were but few qualms about the hanging of William Joyce (nicknamed Lord Haw-Haw during the war)77, as a traitor, nor was John Emery spared the gallows, despite the moral stand he had taken which was not so different from Vlasov’s.78 However, quite a few people were indignant about the treatment of Vlasov in the Soviet Union. THE VLASOV CASE The case of Vlasov is worth studying, not only because for the Red Army he was the symbol of treason, which later on assumed human dimensions, but also because once the USSR came to grips with the case of Vlasov, the way was open to discuss the whole phenomenon of treason and to make the fine distinction necessary for a more sober


treatment of the problem of POWs. The bare facts of the Vlasov affair are simpler than their analysis. On 13 July 1942, according to Vlasov’s own testimony during his court martial (other sources say that the date was actually 12 July), General Vlasov gave himself up, of his own free will, to a unit of the 18th German Army. The history of the ‘movement’ that he initiated and the Army that he commanded has been dealt with profusely by numerous authors, the interest of this study is to draw conclusions from the Vlasov affair as to the Soviet attitude to POWs and to collaborators among them. Superficially, it is a straightforward case. However, historians vary in their approach to and evaluation of the case, not so much on the factual aspects but more for political, ideological and moral reasons. A parsimonious approach to the Soviet Union presents the scholar not only with an ideological objection which blurs the issue, but also with some pure scholastic problems. The ideological approach The ideological approach shifts the emphasis of the Vlasov affair from the problem of loyalty to one’s own country and one’s own army to the nature of the country one owes allegiance to and the aims of the army in question. The epitome of the ideological approach is that there is no difference between a Soviet citizen who fought in Red Army uniform against Hitler’s tyranny and a Soviet citizen who fought in the Wehrmacht uniform against Stalin’s tyranny. According to this approach a Soviet general who had been decorated by the Red Army for fighting valiantly against the German Army and later on was captured by the enemy, should only claim that deep in his heart he could never acquiesce in Stalin’s regime. Non-acquiescence in a Communist regime turns such a general from a traitor and a collaborator into a turncoat hero. The sequence of this argument is that had Germany been the victor in the Second World War, Vlasov would have indeed been the hero and that it was only the logic of victory and defeat that put Vlasov in the dock. According to this approach heroes and villains are determined before the event according to an ideological set of values, and after the event by the resulting values. The analytical approach The analytical approach takes into consideration Vlasov the man, it looks into the circumstances of his last battle and evaluates the odds against which he had to fight at the time. This approach takes


cognizance of the unique war that had been launched by Germany against the Soviet Union, and of the peculiarities of the Soviet regime. It also tries to evaluate State interests and the high values of the State. Within the framework of a POW study it makes all possible allowances for the most difficult moment of decision when a soldier, faced with an excruciating choice, must decide for himself whether or not he can go on fighting. The difference between the two approaches is that the first one tries to superimpose an ideological set of tenets as an afterthought, in order to justify a change of values; whereas the latter accepts the set of values that had been in existence at the time of the events in study and attempts to analyse facts within a relative set of values. This research follows the second approach. There is no way to evaluate the Soviet attitude to POWs unless one adopts the set of values that were used by the Soviet Government at the time of the Great Patriotic War. Had Vlasov been perceived as a hero by the Red Army at the time of the war against Germany, the history of the war and presumably of the whole world, would have been different and there would not have been any basis for the discussion in hand. Within the approach of this study the analysis is confined to the whereabouts of the man, the system and the circumstances of his capture by the enemy. His conduct as a POW and his decision to collaborate with the Germans are outside the scope of this study. This study is concerned with the Soviet attitude to Vlasov the man and the phenomenon after his capture, after the war and in the postwar years. The fact that Vlasov was a traitor according to the military logic of fighting armies does not exonerate the Soviet system and Stalin personally from any evils or atrocities perpetrated by the regime or by the man against the people. During the war and for many years afterwards Vlasov was perceived in the Soviet Union as a symbol of treason and collaboration. All the miseries of the Volkhov Front, which had bedevilled this battlefield for months, were attributed to Vlasov. Vlasov, who has been portrayed as a traitor, was an easy prey. With such a prey as a target it was not difficult to cover up the mistakes of the High Command and of commanders in the field, the lack of forces, the secondary place of the Volkhov Front, perhaps of the Northern Front, in comparison with the Southern Fronts. After July 1942 Vlasov served several purposes. He became the symbol of treason, which according to the set of values of all fighting armies he certainly was. This set of values may perhaps be termed the military rationale of fighting armies. Not less important was Vlasov’s role as a scapegoat for all the difficulties of the Volkhov Front at the time of his capture. Lastly, Vlasov provided the necessary


ideological argument for the harsh treatment meted out to the repatriated POWs. Precisely for these reasons it is significant to follow the change in Soviet attitude to Vlasov in the post-war years. The basic attitude has not changed because of ‘the military rationale of fighting armies’, i.e. Vlasov is still considered to be a symbol of treason in the USSR. The change is in the probing into the character of the man and the circumstances of his capture. Within the framework of one and the same book we find in the introduction: The Volkhov Front knew also failures. The gravest one was the 2nd Shock Army’s defeat in the course of the Lyuban operation. This defeat resulted in many casualties and great material losses, and was the consequence of the treason of the traitor, its former commander A.A.Vlasov. Later on though, in the same book, it says: Lieutenant-General A.A.Vlasov was one of the main reasons for the fact that the Army was encircled… But there were also other reasons for the failures of the 2nd Shock Army in the Lyuban operation. The offensive took place against a strong and experienced enemy under circumstances where the enemy enjoyed an advantage in power and material.79 Another account of the same Front in the same area is a long list of failures: lack of experience, not enough ammunition, not enough artillery, not enough reserves, bad weather and endless attacks that were planned in haste.80 Vlasov indeed lost his nerve, but he was not the only one, he was just the most prominent, of the highest rank, who was broken by the war to the point of treason and who gave himself up to the Germans. A more recent account of the events of June 1942 and of the man Vlasov hints at some personal difficulties between Vlasov and the Commander-in-Chief of the Volkhov Front, General Meretskov. A war correspondent, veteran of the 2nd Shock Army tells us that Vlasov was afraid that he might become the scapegoat for the failures of his Army, a not uncommon apprehension at the time.81 It was impossible to publish these accounts at the time of Stalin. They are very different from the image of the villain that was so typical and perhaps unavoidable during the war.


At a time of war the ‘military rationale of fighting armies’ does not allow for refinements of character. There is a great need for simple heroes who are bigger than life and for mean, ugly traitors. Vlasov was not invented by the Soviet propaganda machine, however once he was there, the machine fell for him much too readily. The story of his life was scrutinized in order to show that the seeds of decay had been sown long before the events on the Volkhov river, that even his great feats of arms in front of Kiev, when he was still a venerated commander of the Red Army, were only a masquerade, in preparation for the formidable treason, several months later. Great sociopolitical and cultural events have changed the face of Soviet society since Stalin’s days. Such changes can explain the change of attitude that has been analysed. In that respect the change of attitude towards the archetypical traitor signifies the change of attitude towards POWs that we can see when we compare the attitude towards the repatriated POWs of the Great Patriotic War—which had been a great victory for the Red Army—with that towards the POWs repatriated from Afghanistan which is not considered a great victory. The repercussions of Order No. 270 for the families of at least some of the POWs were indeed terrible. The stigma hung over the heads of even proven heroes of high rank. Some were rehabilitated during Stalin’s time after the ordeal of long months of interrogations. Some even served for a time in military academies, but not for long. Their very presence there was damaging to the image of the war portrayed by Stalin. Most humiliating for the repatriated was the attitude within their social environment. Many of their former friends ignored them. They were never invited to social affairs, let alone to Party affairs. Thousands were executed or perished in Gulags. A few prominent soldiers were rescued by their comrades-in-arms. Marshal Koniev helped LieutenantGeneral Lukin by talking to Stalin on his behalf.82 Krushchev’s period paved the way for rehabilitation of the surviving repatriated POWs, but their portrayal as heroes, who fought against the Nazis even in captivity was slow in coming. Most of the POWs were simple soldiers, whom the fortunes of war drove into terrible straits. Some of them survived the ordeal with dignity; most of them were just lucky to survive at all, some succumbed to immoral choices and collaborated with the Germans to save their lives.


POWs ON THE INTERNATIONAL AGENDA AFTER THE WAR The misery of POWs during the Second World War did strike a chord. One month after the end of the war (5 September 1945) the International Red Cross suggested that an informal discussion should be held in Geneva ‘in regard to a possible revision of the international conventions applicable to the treatment of prisoners of war and civilian internees’. The invitation was extended to the governments of China, the Soviet Union, Great Britain, France and the United States. It was expected that ‘in the event that a sufficient number of these Powers agree to participate in these informal discussions, it is contemplated that invitations will be extended to additional United Nations Governments’.83 A letter to this effect was sent to Mr Vyshinsky (17 November 1945). The Soviet Government however declined the invitation (5 December 1945) saying that: The Soviet Government maintains that dealing with the treatment of POWs and civilian internees so soon after the end of the war is untimely and not urgent.’84 From the Soviet point of view the time was inopportune for any international discussion of POWs and civilian internees. The repatriation of Soviet POWs had just started with no satisfactory agreement between the former allies with regard to the status of persons claimed by the Soviet Government as citizens of the USSR. The new borders of the USSR had not been recognized by its former allies causing a further complication with regard to the status of Soviet citizens. Hundreds of thousands of German and Japanese POWs were interned on Soviet soil, mostly combatants, but some were war criminals, who collaborated with the enemy during the war or non-regular combatants. This was the beginning of the Cold War which gathered momentum and venom with every new misunderstanding between the former allies, in particular between the Soviet Union and the United States, with the latter also flaunting the newly acquired atomic bomb. The Swiss and the Americans were active in the assembly of the first post-war meeting of the League of Red Cross Societies. The meeting took place at Oxford (8 July 1946), lasted for a fortnight and was presided over by Basil O’Connor, President of the American Red Cross. Fifty-two nations approved unanimously a Polish suggestion to outlaw the atomic bomb in the same manner that poison gas and bacteriological warfare had been banned. This suggestion, inspired by the USSR was to be presented in the form of a resolution to the next International Red Cross conference to be held in Stockholm in 1948. The issue was taken up again


by the League of Red Cross Societies in Paris (the meeting was concluded 2 December 1946). One of the resolutions of this meeting was to set up a committee consisting of representatives of the Red Cross Societies of Australia, Belgium, China, France, Great Britain, Greece, Mexico, Peru, Poland, Portugal, the Soviet Union, Sweden and the USA. Its task was to study proposed changes in the Geneva and Hague Conventions with a view to the outlawing of the atomic bomb. No progress was made in the meantime with regard to the revision of the 1929 Geneva Convention relating to POWs because the USSR refused to attend the Geneva Conference in 1947 (27 May). It was also resolved to deal with this problem in Stockholm in 1948. Meanwhile as the Cold War intensified, the USSR was not satisfied with the activities of the Red Cross national branches in Eastern Europe. The attitude of the Soviet Government to the Russian Red Cross immediately after the Revolution should be recalled. Stalin’s suspicion of any international and voluntary organization was much worse at the time of the consolidation of Eastern Europe and at the height of the Cold War. When the Stockholm Conference of the Red Cross was convened, the USSR at first sent only two unofficial representatives (17 August 1948). However, later (2 September) the Soviet representatives received new instructions and took an active part in the deliberations of the conference. The convention which resulted from this conference was a great improvement on that of 1929. It also showed signs of the learning process of nations. The Soviet Union was instrumental in emphasizing the responsibility of war criminals. In 1958 (25 December) the Supreme Soviet passed a law to that effect.85 POWs IN AFGHANISTAN By the end of the war in Afghanistan there was a complete change of heart in the Soviet Union. Many atrocities were committed by both sides during the war. The Soviet Army which used mainly air forces in offensive operations did not care for refinements and discrimination. Villages were destroyed at signs of opposition. As a result the disproportion between the rates of casualties of the rebels and the Soviet Army is staggering. Some UN sources estimate that the Afghan rebels had about a million casualties. The official figure for Soviet casualties is 13,310 dead, 35,478 maimed and wounded. The rebels on their part were ruthless in their treatment of POWs. By the end of the war there were 311 missing Soviet soldiers, some of whom are considered to be POWs, about a third are known to have been killed in


action and remained unidentified, many were tortured to death or shot while trying to escape. Unlike the Soviet Government’s behaviour during the Great Patriotic War, the Soviet authorities have done and are still doing their utmost to bring their POWs home. In reply to a pointed question, Major-General Valentin Khrobostov of the Chief Political Administration of the Soviet Army and Navy said: This is not Stalin’s time. No such repressions or punishments are, or will be inflicted upon our officers and men who have seen action in Afghanistan, escaped and returned home… Back home they are guaranteed normal lives and jobs.86 Echoes of the past might also be traced in the statement of the Soviet Prosecutor-General Alexander Sukharev, who said that all servicemen who return home from Afghanistan or from other countries will enjoy all the rights of the USSR constitution. Even those who have committed unlawful actions against the State will be granted amnesty. The Soviet Government welcomes cooperation from any quarters and uses the good services of the Red Cross. Veterans of the war in Afghanistan can do today what American veterans of the war in Vietnam can do: demonstrate in the streets and collect signatures for appeals in the Soviet Union and abroad for the release of Soviet POWs. Several public committees were organized to deal with the release of POWs: the Coordination Committee of Soviet Social Personages for the Release of Soldiers captured in Afghanistan, the International Committee for Assisting the Soviet POWs in Afghanistan (based in New York and headed by a Soviet artist who lives in the USA), Amnesty International and of course the International Committee of the Red Cross. Echoes from the past can again be heard in the dispute over the question whether or not the POWs are willing to go back to the Soviet Union. However, the attitude and the mood are different from that which surrounded the repatriated POWs at the end of the Second World War. According to available information the repatriated POWs did find jobs and were welcomed by both the authorities and the public. Provisional conclusions may be drawn to the effect that Stalin’s period was the end of the dark ages of revolution and that since then there is a steady improvement in the attitude to human life.

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Chapter 4 Fighting at all costs

INTRODUCTION The aim of this chapter is to examine the fighting spirit (boevoi dukh) of the Red Army from its inception to the present day. It is assumed that military establishments believe that fighting spirit consists of two major components: ‘morale’ and ‘discipline’. This belief has led the military all over the world to seek the right balance between ‘morale’ and ‘discipline’ in order to achieve victory. However, it is not at all easy to strike this balance. The correlation between the two components seems so obvious, but there is no magic formula to instruct military authorities as to how much of each is necessary in order to evoke this mysterious esprit de corps, without which, it seems, victory is unattainable. It is the intention of this chapter to examine the evolvement of the Soviet disciplinary code and the means used by the Red Army to inculcate political ideology in officers and men of the Armed Forces in order to build up morale. Finally an attempt will be made to examine these two components in operation during the Great Patriotic War and to analyse their influence on the fighting spirit of the Red Army during the war. Morale Morale is probably one of the most indispensable and yet incalculable components of fighting armies. It is undoubtedly intrinsically linked with discipline but how exactly they influence each other and how to forge them both into a weapon is not yet clear. Therefore, each commander, unit, indeed army, has to solve the problem anew. Discipline is definitely necessary in each hierarchical structure where superiors and subordinates have to operate in unison. A slack discipline is not known to have a salutary effect on morale, nor does a harsh one.


Attempts to do away with outward signs of discipline, like insignia, salutes and officer corps, have failed. They have failed for many reasons, not the least of which is that superiors demand from their subordinates not only obedience but also respect; preferably for the man, but at least for the symbols of his authority, that is rank, uniform and insignia. They have also failed because armies hallow symbols of conduct no less than operational considerations. When we examine the battle of Ypres, one of the greatest debacles in military history, we find that: One of these errors, often remarked upon was the retention of the Ypres salient long after all the ground of tactical significance had been captured by the Germans. The soldiers who came later could not understand the policy. Historians surmise that its retention was due to an obsession by the senior commanders for holding ground—any ground—rather than release it to the enemy gratuitously. But some at least, however misguidedly, felt that the army should hold on to what it could because they had fought for the ground; they had hallowed it with the blood and bodies of comrades with whom they had soldiered all over the world through a lifetime.1 One of the meanings of the above passage is that although sacrifices and casualties are never welcomed, armies tend to remember bloody battles as a symbol of the fighting spirit of units, or commanders. Armies usually have their own terminology, in particular in matters of conduct and behaviour. The vernacular includes words such as honour, ignominy, heroism, cowardice, loyalty and treason.2 As in many other hierarchical bodies the superiors in the military have always been in a better position to determine whether or not their subordinates were heroes or cowards and their conduct in front of an enemy gallant or ignominious, ‘all the rights were given by law to the commanding officers while all obligations devolved on the subordinates’.3 In so many armies, of democratic and non-democratic countries, the penalty for ‘cowardice’, ‘desertion’, ‘ignominious conduct’ in front of the enemy, was death. Many death sentences, properly or improperly adjudicated were carried out in the French, the British and the Russian armies during the Great War and in particular in the Red Army during the Great Patriotic War.4 Executions are always gruesome. Some of those carried out summarily during the terrible year 1942 were horrific beyond description.5

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Morale, (esprit de corps, boevoi dukh, Kampfgeist) consists of so many elements—trivial and noble—that it is well nigh impossible to instruct any Army on how to instil it in its units. Let us consider the following examples: By the end of 1917, those of the 1916 men who were left were tired beyond description, and morale, at this time, was probably lower than at any other period in the war. Many of the men had been at the Front for up to two years with hardly a break; there was no system of relief for the battle-weary.6 Another thoughtful observer who witnessed the same events provides the following account: one couldn’t reckon the effect of the war on people by weeks and months. I’d noticed that boys under twenty stood it worst, especially when the weather was bad. Mud and boredom and discomfort seemed to take all the guts out of them. If an officer crumpled up, Kinjack sent him home as useless, with a confidential report… But if a man became a dud in the ranks, he just remained where he was until he was killed or wounded. Delicate discrimination about private soldiers wasn’t possible. Several pages later we find: Twenty-four hours’ rest and a shave had worked the usual miracle with the troops (psychological recovery was a problem which no one had time to recognize as existent).7 In many respects this is the story of many wars and even more battles: boredom, fear of death, frustration, mud, bad weather; and on the other hand the short intervals away from the line of fire, a rest, a shave, the somewhat macabre relief of the survivors who have lost their best comrades. These are the ‘natural’ components of morale. The spirit of a unit may change within minutes despite all the ‘unnatural’ components such as education, ideology and encouragement. It is noteworthy that not all armies have a special word to define the spiritual quality of a fighting man, or a fighting unit. The British use the word ‘morale’ as distinctive from ‘moral’; the French use the expression ‘esprit de corps’. The word ‘morale’ does not exist in the Russian language. The Czarist Imperial Army used the expression ‘voennyi


dukh’ (fighting spirit). It is such a loaded phrase that in a dictionary of the Czarist era it takes a whole paragraph to explain: ‘Fighting spirit’ is the sum total of all the moralistic qualities necessary for war (courage, readiness, discipline, carrying with great consciousness the sense of duty)…mutual confidence is the corner-stone of troop’s education. The paragraph goes on to say that one should not mix up ‘fighting spirit’ with ‘militant spirit’; the first describes the well-being of an Army, the second, a bellicose nation; the first is a virtue acquired through a constructive education; the second, an inherent quality. Finally, the origin of ‘fighting spirit’ is moralistic whereas militancy is just foolhardiness. The Red Army inherited this dualism of moral and fighting spirit, courage and discipline, all engulfed in one expression, adding to it its special odour:8 The Soviet soldier…must be characterized, in the first place, by such values as political consciousness, high discipline, courage, valour, bravery, tenacity, persistence and contempt for death.9 Discipline One of the oldest ways to turn an individual into a soldier is by disciplinary means. The primordial instinct of the individual is survival, the military rationale of fighting armies is to wage war.10 Discipline is the method used by authorities to force people into obedience, namely to make people overcome the instinct of survival. The content of discipline is nothing but the consistently rationalized, methodically prepared and exact execution of the received order, in which all personal criticism is unconditionally suspended and the actor is unswervingly and exclusively set for carrying out the command… Discipline in general, like its most rational offspring, bureaucracy, is impersonal. Unfailingly neutral, it places itself at the disposal of every power that claims its service and knows how to promote it.11

Since the military profession is all about violence, the discipline in the history of all armies was brutal and inconsiderate. Running the gauntlet


was abolished in the Czarist Army on 17 April 1863 but the official use of the whip only in 1904.12 The disciplinary codices of other nations’ armies were not any better. Discipline is also a difficult notion and a difficult undertaking because military ‘order’ is so different from civilian ‘order’. People from all walks of life, with many beliefs and views, with diverse habits and manners, are called upon to obey an ‘order’ which may be quite out of the ordinary. Discipline has at least three obvious implications: the efficient functioning of the military machine, the legal status of the people subordinate to military law and the definition of orderly behaviour. What most ordinary people may consider as simple decency, preferring to care for a sick wife than to obey the order of a commander to do sentry duty, the military may consider as a punishable breach of discipline liable to the death penalty. The mere command by an authority of any sort may trigger all the anxieties of a slightly paranoid person. MILITARY EXPERIENCE AFTER THE REVOLUTION: DISCIPLINE AND MORALE THROUGH EDUCATION The Communist Party (Bolshevik) set out to impose its Government over a country in a state of chaos. Part of this chaos had been created by the same Party in order to facilitate ‘revolutionary conditions’ which were conducive, in its view, to the seizure of power.13 Towards the end of the Great War the Russian Army simply melted away because it was sick to the heart with endless, futile war, because of unimaginative leadership and for lack of combat means (195,000 soldiers deserted in February 1917; about two million in October 1917). Under these circumstances such Bolshevik slogans as ‘peace’, ‘land’ and ‘freedom’ were very enticing indeed. However, when Lenin assumed power he soon realized that with all his political aversion to ‘militarism’ and military establishments,14 his Government would not survive without an army. The All-Army conference opened its sessions on 27 November 1917 and ‘found it necessary to begin the organization of a socialist army by means of voluntary recruiting upon recommendation of the recruits by revolutionary socialist parties and organizations of workers, soldiers and peasants’.15 No sooner had the new Government decided upon building an army than the military rationale of fighting armies set the tone. The principle that soldiers elect their commanders, which had been upheld by the Bolsheviki during the time of the Provisional


Government and actually decreed at the end of December, 1917 was discarded (in March, 1918) for fear that, ‘the army would regard itself as an autonomous body, which gives itself its laws’.16 As long as the Army consisted of volunteers, mainly from among the urban population, in great part from the hard core of the Communist Party, there were no official complaints about lack of discipline. When the military and political situation in the country deteriorated, the Government had to resort to compulsory call-up. As soon as this decree was promulgated the authorities had to deal with the problem of deserters. There were about a million deserters in the second half of 1919 and over half a million in the first half of 1920. Other Soviet accounts quote the figure 2,846,000 for the two years 1919 and 1920.17 On 25 December 1918, a Central Provisional Commission was established to deal with the problem of deserters. The Commission consisted of representatives of the All-Russian General-Staff, the AllRussian Bureau of Commissars and the NKVD (Ministry of the Interior). Provincial commissions were set in the regions to deal with deserters (20 March 1919). They were entrusted with judicial authority for punishment. The Central Commission as well as the provincial commissions were authorized to take all measures from arresting to shooting deserters. There is an interesting indication as to the nature of the deserters in the fact that one of the measures used by the commissions was confiscation of property, including all or part of the land. The official reasons for the phenomenon of desertion were the following: a Political uncertainty of the peasants. b Political ignorance among the peasants. c War fatigue of the people. d Deficient organization in the regional military apparatus. e Not enough public information about the call-up. f Devastation and hunger at the rear.18 The problem of desertion was dealt with in a judicial and disciplinary way. It was suggested, however, that lack of information, indeed education, had been the major source of evil. At the time of the Civil War 40–50 per cent of the population did not have any education at all and if we add those who had only some education, the percentage is about 80–90. Already in 1918 the Army operated 500 schools in which the ignorant soldiers could acquire basic education. Trotsky put a great store on education. He promoted a decree that was promulgated by the


Central Committee (22 April 1918) and provided for military training of workers and those peasants who did not employ hired labour. The first category of military education for school children was undertaken by the Commissariat for Education in combination with the Commissariat for Military Affairs. The preparatory education for the age-group 16–18 and the regular military education for the age-group 18–40 was in the hands of the latter.19 The results of these efforts were slow to come. In 1922, when the Army attempted to create demonstrative companies for instruction in the use of new automatic rifles and to have the regiments training in formation, it came up against the obstacle of ignorance. Most of the trainees were either completely illiterate or had only basic education. They had first to take courses in Russian, arithmetic and geography before they could be of any use as proficient soldiers.20 Later on when Tukhachevskii handled part of the combat preparation of the Red Army he considered ‘war games’ to be an important tool for education and training. In the course of such ‘war games’ Tukhachevskii wanted to demonstrate that victory over the enemy is usually achieved by those who are creative in resolving operationaltactical problems, keep the initiative, and present and make use of all the available means to inflict on the enemy decisive defeat.21 In Lenin’s time discipline was enforced by unit courts. The first disciplinary code was the ‘Red soldier’s book’ which had been authorized by Lenin and Sverdlov in 1918. The book included the RSFSR First Constitution, the text of the oath of allegiance and some methods for soldier’s moral-political education. It was permeated with class consciousness and with courageous hatred for the enemy. The second one was published in 1919 and a third provisional code in 1925 (23 September). In the latter code the elements of morale and persuasion were extended whereas the element of punishment was reduced; it also gave up the section about ‘company’s comrade court’ (O tovarishcheskikh rotnykh sudakh). These courts (Tovarishcheskie krasnoarmeiskie sudy i sudy komandirskoi chesti) were reestablished after the Winter War for rank and file in order to promote discipline.22 The theoretical recognition of the need to change from a strict to a more persuasive disciplinary code tallies well with the general criticism by Soviet military instructors of the Czarist disciplinary code which had been in their view: ‘blind’, ‘a discipline of the cane’.23 However, simultaneously with theoretical ideas about military education through persuasion the military establishment reared stiff disciplinarians like Frunze. In the Red Army of 1919 generals like Frunze had to fight in order to establish their view of ‘parade discipline’ (stroevie smotry),


sometimes against threats verging on insubordination.24 Thus the balance was kept not only between harsh discipline and persuasion but also between educationalists and disciplinarians. The end of the Civil War on the one hand and the illiterate population enlisted in the Red Army on the other, put many obstacles in the way of ‘Sovietization’ of the new recruits. Military work settled down to a routine training, fighting against unruly armed bands which roamed the countryside and daily life in camps and garrisons. Facing the atmosphere created in the Army by this routine Tukhachevskii reminded rank and file that ‘In the old Army even garrison service was considered the best time to develop in the soldier a sense of duty, resourcefulness, decisiveness and discipline’.25 These then are the two elements of ‘fighting spirit’: morale—sense of duty, resourcefulness, decisiveness; and discipline. We may appreciate to what extent ‘morale’ and ‘discipline’ were amalgamated in Tukhachevskii’s mind—and most probably he was not the only one of that opinion—when we consider the following example: ‘In battle the undisciplined soldier is nervous when he has to shoot If in peacetime he does not teach himself how to behave calmly, and that he should have confidence in his ability to shoot, he will never hit the enemy’.26 The aim of all this labour is victory. ‘We all know very well’ Tukhachevskii goes on, ‘that technical preparation of the troops alone cannot achieve victory. The spirit of the troops is the decisive element, their readiness to die for their interest’. The commanders during the early 1920’s were immature and untrustworthy from the Party’s point of view and as a result spiritual preparation (Commissarskii) was detached from battle instruction (Spetsovskii).27 The military did not take very readily to the introduction of political commissars (the whole argument is an echo of the Party dispute during the early 1920s between Trotsky and the ‘military opposition’). Indeed, later on when the commissars institution was well established, it was not at all easy to go back to a professional command. The decision to go back to a system of one-man command was taken in 1924, but in late 1926 we find that it was not carried out in full and that ‘in the practical work of implementing the instruction in the Red Army there were series of difficulties’. The decision to go back to a one-man command purported among other things to indicate the Party confidence in the non-Party commanders. Evidently, precisely such confidence was lacking either high up or perhaps among the commissars themselves: ‘cases of worsening relations between commanders and political personnel in the Red Army were observed’.28 Obviously the division of command was an expedient measure taken at the time by Trotsky, in


order to facilitate the introduction of professional officers into the inexperienced Red Army. By the end of the Civil War the Commissars became superfluous—a liability both to morale and to discipline. The early methods of military education were borrowed by and large from the old Army. This proved to be both an asset and a liability. Even as late as 1929 when Tukhachevskii reviewed the past year of training he complained that despite the general improvement in tactics, units’ mobility, their flexibility, versatility and initiative lagged behind other developments. ‘There is no doubt’ he says, ‘that this lagging behind is due largely to the imperfect methods of training inherited from the Czarist army’.29 Towards the beginning of the 1930s when most specialists (officers of the Imperial Army who were enlisted to the Red Army to enhance its professional standard) had already been dismissed, the commissars, whose job it had been to make these officers toe the Party line, became entrenched as an institution in their own right. By that time it was realized that instruction in the Red Army oscillates between loyalty and professionalism and between education and training (vospitanie, obuchenie). Deep down, this conceptual and practical division between ‘spiritual’ and ‘combat training’ is not unrelated to the linguistic and philosophical connotation of ‘morale’ and ‘discipline’. Semantically ‘morale’ denotes a fighting spirit permeated by ethical values. However, in Russian the word does not exist, as has already been explained. Boevoy dukh (fighting spirit) was unsatisfactory for an army with lofty Socialist ideas because it did not carry any moral connotation and the division between education and training exacerbated the difficulty. The Red Army command was worried lest the trained soldiers would be found wanting in political consciousness, while the educated soldiers would lack professional qualities. The formative years of the Red Army bore many marks of the dispute between lofty, social-democratic ideas of the 19th century and the harsh conditions developed in the Soviet Union during the Civil War. The dispute surfaced during the 8th Party Conference when the ‘military opposition’ among other things opposed the idea of salutes in the Red Army, while the authors of the disciplinary code emphasized the need for severe discipline and opposed ‘false democracy’ in military education.30 For instance, according to some recent writers, Frunze, who was simple in his personal conduct and believed in democracy, was harsh and demanding when it came to military education.31 It is not uninteresting to compare this military culture to some lessons drawn by the British Royal Air Force during the Second World War:


If every method of communication, of giving instruction and passing information, were regulated by written orders the machine would hardly move. The human cogs have their own idiosyncrasies… They are unconsciously organized in the society of men, a society which can function without the directing power of authority and competence. The strongest bonds of society are not the written letters of the law…but the feelings of one for others.32 On a more practical level the Army was in need of professional soldiers, in a quick turn-out, by simple methods of instruction. In order to do that the Army adopted methods developed by the Central Institute for Work. The Institute broke the process of training into a long series of small and simple units of two to three minutes each. The trainees learnt the jobs by repetition of these simple units. These methods which proved efficient as far as training for industrial jobs were concerned, only emphasized the bifurcation between education and training: 1 The training turned into individual coaching. 2 It did not take into consideration psychological aspects. 3 It was detached from battlefield conditions. The first complaint was that each individual soldier may have learned how to operate a particular piece of equipment but could not relate his newly acquired knowledge to a combat environment of a military unit The second complaint goes deep to the heart of soldiering and military education, or more accurately, training of the mind. This is perhaps the most important link between morale and discipline through psychological preconditioning of the soldier. The soldier must learn to have control over his ‘natural’ conduct and subdue his fear and perplexity; he may hope to achieve this control only by allowing other sentiments to prevail—hatred for the enemy, the sense of a soldier’s honour and fighting activity.33 The third complaint was a recurring criticism of slack preparation of the soldiers for the harsh conditions on the battlefield. Sometimes it was formulated so as to convey the idea that the Army was prepared for an ‘easy victory’. The history of the Red Army is interspersed with the tension between political education and supervision and the need for professional training. Not only was military authority sometimes divided between commanders and commissars but also the intensity of political training varied. In 1924 political studies were carried out in the Army five times


a week in two hour sessions; in 1931–2, only twice a week for two hours at a time. However the upshot of these struggles was that morale was not terribly high and combat training suffered. One of the ways to use education to reach out to the soldiers was to move them emotionally through art and literature. Although the ultimate aim of morale and discipline was not lost sight of, the means used were artistic. During the Civil War the work was carried out by the Party committees and cells of the Kultprosvetkomissia (Culture Enlightnment Committee); when the All-Russian Bureau of military commissars was established the commissars and the political organization took over. The idea was to establish clubs for political work in the Army. In the heroic style of those days these clubs were described as ‘furnaces, in the fire of which the spineless and the vacillating will be forged into staunch fighters and revolutionaries’. The All-Russian Bureau established hundreds of clubs and libraries and activated theatres and cinemas. No matter how primitive these clubs might have been, they certainly provided a quiet place for social activity and simple entertainment in the dull life of a soldier in the barracks, in the field or on duty in some remote garrison. The message was simple and forceful: to ‘fortify the oneness of army and nation and the fraternity among soldiers of different nationalities’. This message, if well accepted, could indeed help to raise morale, because human beings thrive on attention. It is not at all easy, however, to see how it could enhance discipline. It was evidently assumed that discipline could be served by talking about it, by explaining the need for ‘faultless performance’.34 At the centre of this education was the moral strength of the Communist Party which embodied State and nation, i.e. the Soviet Union and the Soviet nation. In the early days of construction and optimism, the Communist idea, not yet tarnished by internal contradictions, could generate moral strength and self-confidence. It should be noted however, that even at an early stage, during the formative years when the foundations of military education were laid down, there were Russian, patriotic undertones to the ‘Socialist’ propaganda. The question of whether the simple-minded or the sophisticated make better soldiers has not yet been resolved, but the Red Army definitely preferred the educated soldier. Towards the mid-1930s, when the Red Army was reaching the pinnacle of its inter-war strength, it was engaged in an educational campaign initiated and led by the wives of military personnel. The campaign started at the beginning of January 1934. In the second half of 1935 (10 July 1935) Voroshilov in his capacity as


Commissar for Defence issued a decree about commander and staff education. The decree included the minimum degree of education required of commanders within a period of the coming two or three years. In almost every garrison a secondary school (Nepolnye srednie shkoly) was established, staffed almost entirely by commanders wives. Although officially recognised the standard of these schools was lower than at ordinary schools. At the beginning of the same year another decree assigned a minimum obligatory number of classical books for soldiers and lower rank commanders. The list included Russian and foreign books (but Dostoevsky was excluded). The Red Star (11 May 1935) wrote that in order to generate political education en masse rank and file must learn to read newspapers on a daily basis: ‘We cannot speak about real political work among the masses, about their fighting spirit, unless soldiers and commanders…read a newspaper on a regular basis.’35 It is typical of the military political establishment that the political education of the soldier is emphasized: The higher the political consciousness of the soldier the better would he carry out his military task; he would more carefully observe discipline and would be more active on the battlefield.’36 The crux of the matter: self-sacrifice Morale and discipline are meant to break in the new recruit, to make a soldier of a man. Individuals and groups behave differently when they are in uniform. A long history of military conduct and a harsh method of education usually bring about these peculiarities of behaviour. Russia and the Soviet Union have seen many wars. Soldiering became a way of life for many Russian people over the centuries. Traditions, ceremonies, rituals and habits developed which over the years moulded the Army that eventually defeated the Wehrmacht. The way to understand this Army is to look at it within its unique historical perspective. Although the old Imperial army was defeated and dispersed even before the Bolshevik Revolution was won, it did not die. For lack of other models the new Red Army had to draw heavily on the Imperial army’s resources for equipment, expertise and erudition. Several of the Red commanders who became famous later started as junior or senior imperial officers. They formed the bridge from past to present. Michail D.Bonch Bruyevich served on the staff of the Kiev Military District during the years 1898–1907, where he was deeply impressed by General Dragomirov.37 On 20 November 1917 the former imperial General (Michail Bonch Bruyevich) was appointed Chief of the General


Staff, a post he occupied until February 1918. From March to September 1918 he was the head of the Supreme Military Soviet. Since 1939 General Bonch Bruyevich had been engaged in academic work on military affairs. Among many other subjects he also wrote and lectured about his former mentor General Dragomirov, whose ideas about military education left their mark on Soviet military thinking. The ideas are Dragomirov’s, but he himself was only one link in the long chain of military tradition, of which General M.D.Bonch Bruyevich was another. In several of his theoretical works General Dragomirov dealt squarely with the crux of the matter, namely, the readiness of the individual soldier for self-sacrifice (samootverzhenie). Self-sacrifice can neither be taught, nor learned, it can only be cultivated. Personal examples are priceless in the process of military education. Combat is a tug of war between two opposing wills. The power to impose one’s will over that of the enemy is predicated upon the capability to suppress one’s own self-preservation and to cultivate the readiness for self-sacrifice. This capability depends upon obedience, that is the readiness of many people to obey one will. It is ‘the ability not only to want but also to be in one mind to execute one will’. The climax of this ability is the readiness to fight and to die, i.e. to sacrifice oneself, while attempting to carry out orders dauntlessly, in short, to fight at all costs. Training the mind to think about the readiness to die is an indispensable element of military education.38 Indeed, Dragomirov, according to Bonch Bruyevich, did not think in terms of training the soldiers to sacrifice themselves. This, he thought, would only frighten them; nor did he preach obedience without understanding. Dragomirov was looking for ways to encourage psychological ingredients like courage, responsibility, stamina and comradeship: ‘You may be killed but get your comrade out of trouble’ (sam pogibai a tovorishchi vyruchai). Cohesive and divisive elements of morale and discipline The efforts to turn a man into a soldier by building up morale and by disciplinary means proved to be an uphill struggle between cohesive and divisive elements in human nature and in Soviet society. The Red Army’s attempt to replace individual habits by collective responsibility, and individual initiative by group creativity did not produce cognitive dissonance in the Party. The belief in collective effort, directed from above, was the official line of the Soviet Government. In 1942, for


instance Brigade Commissar F.P.Luchko while praising Rokossovskii’s modesty said: unfortunately, there is a mannerism adopted by some of our workers, who have already climbed up the ladder. They become inaccessible. All that one can hear is: ‘I’, and yet again, ‘I’. They have long forgotten about ‘us’. The Party roots among these people are feeble.39 The way to substitute the instinct for self-preservation with lofty patriotic ideas was strewn with many psychological obstacles. Nevertheless, improved training methods and proficiency in the use of equipment helped to build confidence in the commanding personnel and enhanced morale. Discipline was not so easy to impose, not only because of the many loaded interpretations of the concept Discipline was lacking in the most basic meaning of the word. The political organs of the Air Force for instance, had to resort to some strict measures (in 1928) to fight against ‘drunkenness, hooliganism and uproar’.40 Discipline is aided by cohesive forces like morale, comradeship, belief in the cause and faith in the authorities. However, Soviet society was torn by many divisive forces: level of education, standard of living and, first and foremost, ethnic and national cleavages. The Soviet authorities were well aware of the problem, indeed they were looking desperately for ways and means to cope with it In the first place they accepted ethnicity as a ‘primary element of personal identity’ and they worked out programmes to ‘reduce socioeconomic differences between minority groups and geographic regions’. All these were purported to create common Soviet high values.41 For historical as well as for practical reasons the Soviet Government had to agree in 1924 to form territorial units.42 Such units were formed according to the plan of reform in the Red Army prepared by the C.C. in several sessions during February, March and April 1924.43 Territorialnational units were certainly not in line with the ideology of the Communist Party. These units were a price that the Soviet Government had to pay in order to conquer and pacify Central Asia, in order to divide the opponents of Soviet Rule in the Muslim periphery and in Trans-Caucasus. During the Civil War, the Red Army had to muster the good will and the services of local forces. Such forces which supported the Red Army did so for hatred of some other local forces or of the Whites. However in the process of war and local struggles, with Soviet encouragement, they formed their own military units:


With a minimum number of people on the staff even in regions of a small radius, the recruitment system of territorial formation provides the opportunity to raise quickly the necessary number of combat divisions. At the same time the variable staff of the territorial units may be used between training periods to do productive work.44 By the end of the Civil War the Soviet Government was unable to sustain a large army recruited from among the loyal parts of the population and had to compromise. National units were subordinated to the Soviet chain of command but enjoyed some measure of independence, in the form of national personnel and national political workers. These units were always suspect and great efforts were made to guarantee their loyalty: it is necessary to carry out a decisive class policy in the election of variable personnel in the territorial units. A strict supervision of the non-working elements must be carried out by means of comparison between the available lists in the military committees and the lists prepared for elections to the Sovieti.45 In the units proper the territorial Red Army came up against the same difficulties as elsewhere in its attempt to nominate Communists to commanding posts. All the highest and High Commanders were Communists while among the middle and junior ranks only 25 per cent joined the Party.46 The development of the Red Army in its formative years was also underlined by a power struggle among Party leaders. On the one hand the operations on the fronts and the ‘rationale of fighting armies’ demanded strict discipline, definite lines of command and standardization of procedures, regulations and weapons; on the other hand, the guerrilla nature of the war, the vast space and the changing front-lines combined with the diversity of the fighting units to make the unifying task hard to achieve. The struggle of Trotsky for cohesiveness was opposed not only by the disruptive power of the Revolution, the spontaneous local, ethnic and national forces, but also by pure ideological beliefs and political ill-intentions. The echoes of these struggles and rivalries reverberated in several Party assemblies where the dispute about the political control over the military shaped for ever the state-party—military relationships.47


During this bitter political-military struggle Trotsky was replaced by Frunze as War Commissar (1925) and the Party control over the military was reshaped. The effort to create one state, one nation and one army, suppressed the most radical expressions of national ambitions (like the Basmachis, for instance) but did not do away with divisive forces in the Army. The subject has two possible angles of approach: from the peripheral and from the central point of view. The hypothetical question whether a peripheral approach might have eventually strengthened the cohesiveness of the Red Army is not only irrelevant to the discussion but it also presents a methodological snag, i.e. had this approach been adopted in the 1920s there might not have been a Red Army at all. Therefore, true to the method adopted throughout this book, the approach is to study and discuss the ramifications of the political-military reality as it developed in the Soviet Union and the policies applied by the Government to deal with it. Following this line of argument cohesive forces are those that were considered as conducive towards the ideal of ‘one state, one nation and one army’, and divisive forces are those that the Government considered to be opposed to this ideal. Methodological questions notwithstanding it proved impossible to create a universal allegiance to an abstract military symbol in the teeth of such a diversity of ethnic, national, linguistic and religious groups.48 Thus, a very interesting dichotomy was effected in the resolutions of the political workers (24–27 November 1924) between technicalprofessional and political work in the Navy: Conduct of training and commanding, in the Navy, of national groups in their native languages, under the present circumstances, was impossible; it is necessary to adopt national languages in schools, non-school education, political-enlightening work in instructive groups as far as the political staff know the language.49 The sociological results of these diversities were manifested in several ways. Minorities (for instance Tatars, Mordvins, Chermis) found themselves doing menial rather than more military jobs. However, Russians and Slavs formed the majority of the Armed Forces then as now. The 1902 cohort was divided as follows: Russians Ukrainians Belorussians 20 other nationalities

65–70 per cent 14–18 per cent 3 per cent 10–12 per cent50


Despite many attempts to form and maintain national units under the command of native, non-slavic commanders, technological and instruction imperatives proved stronger than political wishes. It should also be borne in mind that the political tendency to satisfy national wishes has always come up against suspicions of disloyalty to the Soviet (meaning the Russian) cause. The territorial system of the Red Army was maintained with all its diversity and internal contradictions until 1938 when international threats proved stronger than internal ones. We shall return to this problem when we discuss morale and discipline during the Great Patriotic War. Morale, discipline and obedience The history of morale and discipline is underlined by stories of heroism, violence, brutal treatment of friend and foe, but mostly by the struggle between the individual’s instinct for self-preservation and the ‘military rationale of the fighting Army’. Prevalence of the collective—the army —demand to fight, over the individual instinct to save his life, is a necessary but not a sufficient guarantee of victory over the enemy. However, according to Soviet analysis, Soviet troops under fire found themselves unprepared from a morale-psychological point of view. During the two tests of the Red Army which preceded the Great Patriotic War, in Khalkhin-gol (May-September 1939) and in the Winter War (October 1939-March 1940) the performance of the troops was so diverse as to believe that there were two different armies. It is impossible to assume that a priori the morale and disciplinary education of the troops in the Far East was different from that of the troops in Finland. Actually we know that when Zhukov became the Commander-in-chief of the theatre of war against the Japanese (1939) he was given a free hand in recruiting his staff from the west Consequently, Zhukov’s troops and commanders and the troops and commanders, that were engaged in the Winter War, came from the same stock. We must conclude then, that there was a third variable in operation to which success in the Far East and initial failure in Finland should be attributed. Indeed, we may assume that several other factors being equal, the dominant differential element was quality of the command. However, if the qualities of Zhukov as a commander made all the difference what is the significance of military education, morale and discipline? This is the essence of this study. A good commander may impose discipline; disciplined troops may perform better and carry out orders; the combination of authority, discipline and efficient


performance may jointly produce morale. We have already detected four elements: authority, discipline, efficient performance and morale. Even with the best commander, discipline, efficient performance and morale do not fall in place automatically. They all need cultivation and promotion, namely, an arduous process of education. Soviet authorities were not unaware of the problem: ‘A performance of heroism here and there may be just a coincidence where heroism shows, but people may use a coincidence only when they are prepared from the physical, psychological and political point of view’.51 By the end of the Winter War the Soviet authorities felt that the troops had not been well prepared for the demands of war. This was a lingering feeling in the Red Army, which recurred at the end of every large-scale operation even in peacetime, let alone after a failure of an operation or a series of operations in wartime. At the end of the huge exercises of the Red Army in 1935–6 which so impressed foreign observers, the conclusion in the Soviet High Command was that the Army was trained for an easy victory.52 Soon afterwards, however, the Army fell victim to the great purges as a result of which the morale of the command sank abysmally. It would have been easier to conclude that the performance at the beginning of the Winter War was a direct result of the purges if it was not for the performance of the same Army in Khalkhin-Gol. We must conclude then that there were not insurmountable deficiencies in the discipline and the morale of the Red Army and that given the opportunity of good command it could perform equal to or better than other armies. The victory at Khalkhin-Gol was not heralded at the time for political reasons, and its operational conclusions, although adopted by some commanders on the battlefield, were not mentioned as part of Soviet doctrine. The Winter War on the other hand generated many repercussions. One of the conclusions after the war was that the propaganda, that is the education of the troops prior to the baptism of fire, was inappropriate because it prepared the troops ‘for an easy victory’.53 Some rigorous and far reaching measures were adopted after the war: a reshuffle at the head of the Commissariat of Defence—Timoshenko replaced Voroshilov; reinstitution of one-man command (12 August 1940); and a new disciplinary code, much harsher than its predecessor. According to the new code: (Article 6) ‘The order of the commander is law for the subordinate. He must execute it without reservation, precisely and promptly.’54 The same code introduced the word ‘desertion’ into the military law for the first time in Soviet history. There is also in the new code a scale of punishments for ‘absence


without leave’ and for deserters. Absence without leave for 24 hours in peacetime is punishable by a prison term of five to ten years; at a time of war the punishment is death by shooting.55 It is not inappropriate to compare this harsh law with the American Manual for Court-Martial (1969 revised edition): ‘C. Any person found guilty of desertion or attempt to desert shall be punished, if the offense is committed in time of war, by death or such other punishment as a court martial may direct.’56 It is noteworthy that the rationale of the fighting army pervades many military establishments and traverses political cultures: From the military point of view, efficiency in combat is the paramount consideration, and the idea that such efficiency can only be obtained by strict compliance of servicemen with military standards of conduct, guided by an unwritten code of honor, lies deep in military tradition.57 Evidently the military superimposes itself on ethical justice: Military justice has a similar [to law in civilian society] but much more positive purpose, in that it must not only promote good order but also high morale and discipline. Discipline is defined as instant obedience to lawful orders. In the military, the most essential form of discipline is self-discipline, i.e., an individual’s willingness to carry out his duties regardless of danger to himself or lack of immediate supervision… The commander has to administer military justice at the highest ethical and moral level. His decisions directly affect morale, good order, and discipline in his command.58 Another prominent American went even further in juxta-positioning ‘military justice’ with civilian ethics: At a meeting of the New York Lawyers Club on November 17, 1948, General Eisenhower stated: ‘But I should like to call your attention to one fact about the Army, about the Armed Services. It was never set up to insure justice, It is set up as your servant, a servant of the civilian population of this country to do a particular job, to perform a particular function; and that function, in its successful performance, demands within the Army somewhat, almost of a violation of the very concept upon which our government is established.’59


The attitude to deserters in the British Army though, took a different course. In the Great War, deserters, who quite often were suffering from obvious disorders were liable to the death penalty. ‘In the Second World War, desertion was no longer punishable with death as a maximal penalty, but severe sentences of imprisonment were imposed for this offence.’60 The pendulum will never stop swinging between discipline by an iron fist and by persuasion. Immediately after the Revolution, as we have seen, the tendency was to effect discipline by persuasion. It was partially a reaction to the old Czarist system as it was perceived by the new generation of Red Army commanders and partially the notion of a new army with a new type of man. By the end of the Winter War, with the background of the German successes in Europe, the less than convincing victory over Finland and the crisis in the training year 1940, the Soviet Government decided to rebuild the morale of its High Command and to do so by means of harsher discipline. MORALE AND DISCIPLINE IN THE GREAT PATRIOTIC WAR From 21 June 1941 to the end of the war the morale and the discipline of the Red Army was put to the utmost test. The aim of the following discussion is to analyse the morale and the discipline of the Red Army during this period. What was the policy, how did it change during the war and what is the connection between morale, discipline and victory? It is not the purpose of this study to look at the German war aims. The assumption is that a few months after the beginning of the war the Soviet Government perceived the war as a struggle for the very existence of the Soviet Union: ‘The German invaders want a war of extermination with the people of the USSR. Well, if the Germans want to have a war of extermination, they will get it’.61 It has been shown in the previous chapter that several policies were implemented in an extreme state of anxiety and a fair amount of perplexity and panic (in particular Order No. 270 about POWs). The surprise attack and the rapid pace of the German advance severed lines of communication and Moscow received only scanty information about the situation at the fronts. The performance of the Red Army at the beginning of the war cannot be summed up in one simple sentence. Professional soldiers along the borders, bewildered and isolated, fought and died, or were scattered when the front-line moved on inland and they were left behind, at times with no command, with little or no ammunition and supplies. A


great many were later captured, others found their way back and many remained behind to become the nucleus of the partisan movement. It is impossible to say that those who went on fighting were the product of long years of education in the spirit of Soviet morale and discipline and that the others were not, although that was the line later adopted by the Soviet Government. The ethos of heroism started to take shape at the beginning of the war. Since the perception from the outset was of a struggle for survival it was only natural that heroism and cowardice would be depicted as the most salient elements. There was very little else to cling to and the leadership was looking for symbols of defiance. Some notorious executions (General of the Army Pavlov, his COS Major-General Klimovskii, General Grigoriev, General Korobkov and several others of the West Front Command)62 and some sweeping accusations against several commanders set the tone. The effect of the executions was no less than stunning. The names and the ranks of the executed were published for all the Red Army to see. They were also accused of being ‘enemies of the people’. These however, were just spasmodic reactions of a system in stress, it was not a formulated policy, nor a military doctrine, although the pattern was maintained throughout the war and many more soldiers of all ranks were executed.63 Cowardice and desertion were not the only offences for which the offender was liable to suffer the death penalty. Quite a few offenders were sentenced and suffered the death penalty for pilfering or profiteering with State or military supplies. Noteworthy also are the endless reorganizations, replacement and removal of commanders on the Volkhov Front None of these measures are known to have a positive influence on either morale or discipline, nor could they be proved to help the Soviet case. Indeed, frequent replacements and removal of commanders is known to have a negative influence on morale because of its interference with the delicate joints of unit cohesiveness. The doctrine was formulated instinctively by the rationale of the fighting Army as a reaction to the instinct for self-preservation. The essence of this rationale was brutal and concise: ‘fight to the end’, ‘fight at all cost’, ‘fight to the last gasp’, do not run.64 Although a decree to that effect was promulgated only about a year after the beginning of the war, (28 July 1942) in spirit it had been there long before that date. The forerunners of this policy were the executions, Order No. 270, the reinstitution of the commissars as equals to the commanders (16 July) and Stalin’s speech about ‘a war of extermination’ (11 November 1941). These measures testify both to the despair of the Soviet leadership and to its iron will. The Government and the High Command sought


desperately for ways to bolster the waning morale by disciplinary as well as by political means. Out of the 5.3 million people that were mobilized during the first eight months of the war 132, 536 were political workers.65 The political work included talks about the significance of the military oath (prisiaga) and the field regulations.66 As the war drew on with few brilliant victories, with a growing toll of casualties and with ever more miseries, there was more demand for ‘iron discipline’ and for staunch soldiers. Just a few days after the beginning of the war, the Government and the Central Committee resolved to mobilize all forces to stop the enemy. A special publication was distributed in July 1941 (Pamyatka krasnoarmeetz) in which it was emphasized that: The Army’s power is in its discipline…staunch discipline of the soldier is the guarantee for victory in battle’.67 The Commissar of Defence and the Chief of the Political Administration issued an instruction (20 July 1941): ‘Now, more than at any other time we need will for victory, ideological unity, iron discipline, good organization, preparedness for self-sacrifice and readiness for any sacrifice for the victory over the enemy’.68 The idea that was eventually formulated in Decree No.227, ‘Not a step backwards’, was breathed before on many occasions, either individually and spontaneously, or in a more conscious way by commanders. Sometimes it was formulated as an oath, meaning, a wish. Thus, one of the headlines in Moscow on the infamous day of panic (16 October, 1941) when it had already been resolved to move the Head Quarters to Kuibishev, read: ‘We shall not surrender our motherland Moscow at any cost’.69 From a methodological point of view one must be very careful when one deals with memoirs and memories of participants of past battles. There is an obvious tendency to adhere to the general line. The slogan ‘not a step backwards’ became the official line only after July 1942, but many writers who describe or analyse the period June 1941–July 1942, tend to attribute the same slogan to former occasions when it had not been used, but the atmosphere justified its use. There is no doubt however, that morale in the first 18 months of the war was uneven and that a great effort was devoted to maintain discipline and keep up morale.70 If the slogan was not formulated in exact words it was there in spirit long before its official formulation in July 1942. When Brest was recaptured many missing details of the heroic battles that had raged there at the beginning of the war saw the light of day for the first time through remains and writing on the walls. ‘I am dying but do not surrender! Farewell my motherland!’ wrote one of the defenders of the fortress.71 These feats of arms could not have been known to the


authorities at the beginning of the war but they represent the same spirit Another example closer to the wording of the slogan, but then less evident than the former, is found in the following: ‘Russia is enormous, but there is nowhere to withdraw, Moscow is just behind us’. Politruk Klochkov, to whom this sentence is attributed, and most of the 28 soldiers in his command died at the approaches to Moscow, on the Volokolamsk road.72 Another unit of tank-destroyers from the same division, under the command of Dovoseekov defended its position to the last man.73 Far away in the Northern Fleet base at Poliyarnoe the sailor Sivko blew himself up together with nearby German soldiers, crying: ‘Russians do not become prisoners’ (August 1941).74 At the end of March 1942 Division commander Vitaskin (Rifle Div. 374) was ordered by the Army commander: ‘Do not allow the enemy to break through at any cost’. When the Germans did break through the Army commander threatened both the Division commander and his commissar with court martial.75 Women occupied a special place in the ‘pantheon of heroes’. Many examples were cited of women in general and in particular in the Medical Service, who fought side by side with men and who sacrificed their health and their lives in order to fulfil their duties, namely to save lives of wounded soldiers.76 These examples and many more testify to the spirit that was eventually formulated in the famous slogan, but there was nothing in the field regulations of the Red Army that enabled a commander to give a straight command to defend a position ‘at all cost’, yet, there is evidence that precisely such commands were given. At the end of September (1941) during the battle for Smolensk in reply to a request of a battalion commander to withdraw with the remains of his command, General Akimenko ordered (Battalion 127, 19th Army): ‘Not a step backwards. Stand to the last man (stoyat nasmert)’. The reply of the Combat (battalion commander) was: ‘It is clear comrade General, I have no other requests’. Towards the end of the conversation the General apologized that he could not change the order. Evidently, on this occasion the author survived to write his story.77 Heroism had also some moral-aesthetic value. In a letter written (24 November 1943) to the parents of an orderly who died while covering his wounded commander with his own body, an officer from the same unit wrote: ‘He was the best orderly [feld• sher] in our unit Every command he carried out willingly, conscientiously and efficiently… He was beautiful in particular in battle, a real hero’.


The Air Force ethos of ‘fighting at all cost’ The Air Force had its special brand of fighting at all cost. The command of the Air Force emphasized (6 April 1942) that the enemy was particularly afraid of ‘ramming’, i.e. a badly damaged machine collides with an enemy airplane on purpose: The Fascists are incredibly afraid of ramming. Thus, every act of ramming apart from destroying the enemy machine and its team, has also a great negative effect on the morale of the Fascist pilots. Ramming is a form of fighting carried out only by Soviet pilots, It evolves from their selfless devotion to their homeland.78 It was a weapon of last resort to be used only when all other means had been exhausted. However, it left the pilot with the agony of decision: to save his life by parachuting, or to render his country a last and final service. The saliency of the heroic examples and the introduction of the element of devotion to the homeland, which incorporated also the hint that anything less than that implies lesser ardour, seems to tilt the choice slightly in favour of a ‘fighting end’ rather than a ‘sensible end’. Although Air Force Command acknowledged ‘ramming’ as an ‘official’ means of air combat, the practice had begun as soon as the Air Force was first engaged in battle. Partially, it was an attempt to make virtue of necessity. The inferiority of the Soviet Air Force at the beginning of the war, owing much to the great number of obsolete types of airplane, created too many situations without escape. There were several types of ‘ramming’. A ‘happy ending’, when the pilot survived and a tragic ending, when either a fighter pilot or a whole crew of a bomber lost their lives. As far as effect on morale was concerned, the answer is somewhat complicated. For both fighting units and civilian population, German air supremacy for months on end, was an endless source of suffering and agony and badly affected morale. The appearance of a few helpless Soviet fighters helped only to exacerbate the distress. In debriefing, a survivor of a bomber crew which was sent on a suicidal, or perhaps reckless mission, at the very beginning of the war, says on the verge of despair: ‘If only one of our fighter planes could have been seen in the sky, even that would have been a relief.79 The Army and the civilian population, no less than the Air Force itself needed heroes. Tragic heroes perhaps touched upon tender cords during those grim days, although living heroes presumably must have been dearer to the hearts of their comrades. Captain Gastello who crashed his


blazing bomber into a German column of motor-cars and petrol tankers won ‘undying fame’ and became ‘a legend’ after he and all his crew died. Junior Lieutenant Kokorev and the more famous Junior Lieutenant Talalikhin survived their ordeal and were definitely heroes but not ‘legends’.80 Iron discipline The year 1942 saw the lowest ebb in the strength of the Red Army. After the first month of elation, pride and relief, following the victory at the gates of Moscow, the grim attrition recommenced and the relentless advance of the Germans to the south-east towards Stalingrad was resumed. These months saw not only the defeats of the South Front at the gates of Kharkov and in Kerch, the fall of Sevastopol that was to be held ‘under any circumstances’, and the Crimea, the calamity of the Volkhov Front and the fall of Rostov, but also the operational surprise which the Germans sprang of moving towards Stalingrad and the Caucasus and not towards Moscow.81 The Red Army that faced the Germans at the beginning of the war was no more. Its most seasoned and professional echelons were dead, killed along the borders or during the endless encirclements and counter-attacks that were the hallmark of the first year of the war, or had been captured and then many of them murdered, or had died as POWs.82 By mid-1942 the rate of casualties and the rate of new reserves was almost even, in particular in view of the basic strategy of preparing manpower reserves and equipment for future offensives, once the first waves of shock caused by the surprise attack had subsided. At that time about 80 million people (42 per cent) of the USSR’s population were under occupation.83 A conversation with Stalin on the eve of the battle of Moscow brings the idea of this strategy into sharp relief. Stalin was asked whether he thought that Moscow would be held. After a long pause he answered: That is not the most important thing just now, I would say. The important thing is to accumulate reserves as fast as possible. We’ll tussle with them a while longer and then we’ll begin driving them back.’84 On top of that industry had not yet fully recovered from the transfer to the east and the rate of production was only just beginning to pick up again. Morale was terribly affected by the combination of endless retreats, numerous casualties, lack of ammunition and heavy equipment, inferiority in the air and bad leadership.85 Morale is usually also affected by the reciprocal attitude of rear and front. The Red Army as a whole, despite diverse forces, ‘enjoyed’ the benefit of fighting within its


sovereign territory and literally defending its home. In general terms the rear was grateful to the Army, which carried the burden of facing the enemy, but the relationships were not free of frictions. The Army was better fed than the rest of the population, a fact that was terribly demonstrated in the relationships between the besieged Leningrad and its defending armies. The soldiers in the field, who suffered terrible mauling in the first 18 months of war, were nevertheless an organized group with leadership and a sense of purpose, whereas the starved and cold population of Leningrad was a grey mass of individuals in a state of pitiable convulsion.86 The contradiction between the operational level and the political line adopted verged on the incredible. On the operational level the Stavka resolved not to allow further encirclements and mass surrenders and therefore it ordered the harassed and terribly battered armies of Timoshenko’s South Front to adopt a flexible defence, actually to withdraw while showing resistance; on the political level, apart from a reshuffle, (Shcherbakov replacing Mekhlis), the Political Administration of the Red Army (Glavpurkka) was groping for new methods of propaganda, agitation and persuasion. Decree No. 227 bears all the hallmarks of these contradictions: withdrawal and flexible defence as an operational instruction to avoid further disasters, and ‘not a step backwards’ as a political-administrative instruction to stop the decline in morale. As always the choice was yet again between ‘iron discipline’ and political persuasion in order to build up morale. For the time being the stress was tilted heavily in favour of iron discipline, while not losing sight of uplifting morale by persuasion and political work. It should be remembered that political line and propaganda line are very close at any time and are virtually inseparable at a time of war. Nevertheless, the political-cum-propaganda line of the Red Army was the only source of information for the soldiers in the field. A soldier in the field has choices, he can suspect every official announcement, or else he can digest it lock, stock and barrel, or yet again he may keep his scepticism to himself and conform to the official line. When there is only one source of information, there is not much choice, in particular when the recipients are under stress. This is the background to Order No.227 (28 July 1942) .87 The preamble to the order is no less interesting than the document itself. It stresses the need to put an end to the notion of a huge country, that allows for endless retreats with no real damage, a reminder of the equation: space—time—fire power/manoeuvre—casualties. At that time


the Germans were in possession of 1,795,000km2 of Soviet soil, of which, 383,000 km2 were occupied during the spring and summer of 1942. The document goes on to state that the USSR no longer enjoys any advantage over the enemy: We have lost more than 70 million people [who were now under occupation] more than 800 million pud [approx. 13 million tonnes] bread a year and more than 10 million tonnes of metal a year. We now enjoy advantage over the Germans neither in human reserves nor in bread supplies.88 The conclusion is: ‘Not a step backwards!… We must defend every position, every metre of Soviet territory to the last drop of blood. We must cling to every plot of Soviet soil and maintain it as much as possible.’ According to the document the problem with the Red Army is lack of organization and discipline. The remedy is hard measures against ‘panickers’ and ‘cowards’, who should be ‘shot on the spot’. Perhaps the strangest passage of the whole document precedes its operational section. In order to introduce the idea of penal battalions, the document gives as an example the German Army, which after the unsuccessful winter operations introduced penal battalions and ‘holding units’, to bolster failing morale and discipline.89 The results were not bad, concludes the document and the Red Army should emulate this example. Therefore the Supreme Commander-in-Chief of the Red Army ordered the formation of two types of penal battalions, one for high and medium commanders and one for junior commanders and privates. He further ordered the formation of ‘holding units’ (otryadi zagrazhdeniye), the task of which was to stay behind the lines of the fighting divisions and in case of unauthorized retreat to shoot at ‘panickers’ and ‘cowards’. These units were part of the regular combat formations, and were to be posted behind the lines in addition to the NKVD units who were doing the same job. The order had a tremendous effect on the troops.90 Like it or not, the commanders at the fronts had to carry it out, although some of them did so not always quite in its original spirit. A month after the promulgation of the order, Shcherbakov, who replaced Mekhlis as the head of the Main Political Administration of the Red Army, was forced to issue a report, which was actually a reprimand, about the deficiencies of the ‘holding units’. Since these units were to be formed from the best and the most trustworthy elements of divisions and armies, the commanders of the formations, under the pressure of terrible shortage of manpower,


interpreted the order in a slightly different way. Shcherbakov, who took the trouble to investigate the implementation of the order, found that the ‘units’ were posted to keep guard over the command posts of armies, to protect lines of communications and to comb forests in search of enemy forces. In short, the commanders did their utmost not to lose more of their precious men and to keep the newly established units close at hand in case of need. Some other armies did the opposite. They used the less useful manpower to fill the ranks of the units and sent them to do all the menial jobs: cooks, shoemakers, tailors, storemen and clerks.91 The holding units were in operation for about three months; on 29 October a new order was issued which cancelled them as from November 1942.92 Obviously, the policy of the holding units failed and had to be abandoned, but not before an unknown number of people had paid with their lives. The number of those who died while serving in the penal battalions or companies is not known because they were not considered to be regular casualties. It may well be that many of them died while on unnecessary missions of reconnaissance in force, or in head on attacks carried out to atone for their guilt.93 Although with the available data it is almost impossible to assess the effect on morale of Order No. 227, its abrupt cancellation is puzzling. It seems to have been a spasmodic and belated response to a dangerous fall in morale resulting from many defeats. The outward expression of this fall in morale was a widespread rationalization among some commanders and many soldiers, that if they spared their lives at any given battle, they would still be able to show their fighting spirit at some other time, under better circumstances, for example, further east where there was more ammunition, the defence lines were better and the Soviet Air Force could give better protection against air raids. It was a natural rationalization following so many futile battles, at the end of which the soldiers were subject to yet another order to retreat, or had to run for their lives for lack of ammunition, or under a barrage of contradictory orders. This rationalization is compatible with the original motto of this chapter, namely the contradiction between the individual instinct for selfpreservation and the rationale of fighting armies, to make war. In a spontaneous way the individual soldier or commander would like to get away from the front-line, while the military machine would like to keep him in the trenches. Order No. 227 was also cancelled because it was impossible to carry out two opposing policies: flexible defence including many organized retreats on the operational level and a demand for staunch, rigid defence on the political level. Finally, it had to be withdrawn because during the preparations for the great offensive


at Stalingrad, it was decided that the prestige of the Army should be enhanced. Thus, the Supreme Soviet abolished the role of the commissar (9 October, 1942), whereby the Politruk became once more a deputy commander. It was impossible to enhance the prestige of the commander while suspecting him of cowardice and disloyalty. Morale—the ethos of heroism Discipline is easier to administer than morale, if only because in disciplinary measures the linkage between action-reaction seems to be clear and can be formulated in a stern language of regulations and instructions. Morale involves a state of mind, which tends to be fragile under great stress. When we deal with discipline, fear is supposed to be overcome by a greater fear, that of punishment; when we deal with morale, fear is supposed to be overcome by faith and conviction. Faith may produce loyalty, sometimes blind loyalty; conviction may produce devotion, a strong motivation to do a good job and to fulfil a command to the letter. In many armies religion provides the spiritual assistance to overcome fear, but the Red Army did not believe in religious support, although eventually, the Church was also mobilized to help the motherland.94 Although the Red Army had a long tradition of psychological treatment of ‘battle fatigue’, ‘combat shock’ and ‘war trauma’, the basic attitude was to distinguish between heroism and cowardice. The propaganda line was aimed respectfully at the sense of honour, pride and duty to the motherland and the cause and to the shame of those who could not stand up and fight. In order to instil in the soldiers the ethos of heroism it was necessary to analyse the meaning of the idea and to break it down into several components that would be subject to a process of education through persuasion and example. One interesting attempt was to identify the psychological ingredients of morale (moralni dukh): muzhestvo and geroism. The first indicates fortitude, courage, the art of making war, high discipline, organizational capability, will-power and self-control; the latter—intensive combat activity of the troops, courage, ideological conviction, boundless love for the motherland, patriotism and internationalism and faith in the soldier’s duty. Upon analysis we may conclude that the first definition (muzhestvo) has to do with building up the self-esteem of the individual soldier and the latter (geroism) is more political and ideological.95 Common to both definitions are courage and professional militarism: the art of making war in the first and intensive combat activity of the troops in the second.


In peacetime The best school for courage and the art of war is daily military exercise…parachuting, night activity…training with individual means of defence that demand will-power, perseverance and courage’.96 Underlining military education is the idea of death, that is, the preparedness for self-sacrifice in order to carry out the task at all cost: Training of the mind to the idea of readiness to die is an indispensable condition of military education. Only those who are not afraid to die join battle.’97 Every soldier must be psychologically prepared to be able to control his behaviour ‘to suppress or block one feeling (fear and confusion) and to enhance another (hatred for the enemy, the sense of soldier’s honour, combat activity)’.98 At a time of war the problem is far more complicated. From the establishment point of view an ingenious organization of propaganda about the Revolution, military tradition, the achievements of the Communist Party, the Soviet people and the Armed Forces, was supposed to have bolstered morale. The way to bring this propaganda down to the troops was through meetings with veteran soldiers, meetings devoted to heroism and visits to museums and sites of historical battlefields. In short, the idea was a popularization of heroism and combat experience of soldiers and officers.99 This superficial way may have had some effect if only because the meetings gave the soldiers a short respite away from the front and the horrors for which this line of propaganda was supposed to have prepared them. But the real work had to be done with specialized units like parachutists and pilots, with young soldiers and with badly mauled units. Parachutists were subjected to the first (muzhestvo) and to the second (geroism) type of psychological preparation. For the first type of preparation they had talks with their commanders prior to battle about their duty to the motherland, but also about the situation on the front and their specialized tasks. However, the most important part of such talks was a morale-psychological preparation for combat and activity behind enemy lines ‘where everything may happen’. In these highly specialized units morale is as fragile as elsewhere and may depend on ‘trivia’. It is impossible to quantify the impact of ‘heroic’ lectures about past military victories but morale may suffer if the equipment is unreliable. The parachute and parachutists are considered by many armies to be symbols of courage and a deficiency in the parachute, on which the life of the soldier depends, is the dread of all parachutists. When such a deficiency was discovered in the Red Army, commanders and political workers had to demonstrate their own faith in the parachute by personal example, in order to restore morale, a report from a professional


committee that the deficiency had been eliminated, notwithstanding.100 Meanwhile the Air Force emphasized that pilots would not be neglected if they had to bail out of their planes101 and during the battle of Moscow agitators were sent to the units of a sailors’ brigade which had suffered many casualties as a result of improper combat procedures.102 Towards the end of the war a new problem of morale surfaced. When the final victory was no longer in doubt the wish to see it through alive was as strong as the wish to participate in bringing it about. The Medical Service, for instance, had to devote its energy to morale preparations for its crews for the final efforts of the war.103 In the closing session of the newly established Academy of Medical Science the surgeon Professor S.S.Yudin said that the task was ‘to help the nation to win the war and to save the lives of those whom a bullet strikes down on the very threshold of victory’.104 Morale was uneven during the war for a variety of reasons. Combat fatigue has more than one meaning. It used to mean the after-effects of a traumatic shock caused by combat experience, but it also has another meaning. Anyone who was a soldier or happened to meet soldiers must have been aware of this fatigue, a combination of weariness, disgust and tedium. It is no wonder therefore that by the end of the most terrible 18 months of war and after the Stalingrad offensive, Stalin wrote to Roosevelt ‘our troops are tired, they are in need of rest and they will hardly be able to carry on the offensive beyond that period’.105 A slightly different type of morale uplifting was needed in sectors of the front that had suffered for a long time from failures and had tended to sink into an apathetic impassivity. What seemed to be impregnable German defence lines around Leningrad, the endless futile attempts to break through and the tragic events surrounding the 2nd Shock Army (under the Command of Vlasov) brought about a defensive routine. The political workers were ordered to do their utmost to break the lethargy. They were instructed in particular to build up an offensive spirit (nastupatelni poryv) and a detailed effort was made with the assault units. The youngest soldiers were singled out for special political education and special training courses.106 The Communists and the members of the Komsomol were considered to be the most reliable soldiers and commanders. On 19 August and 9 December 1941 the Central Committee decided to shorten the procedure for joining the Communist Party. The new procedure for excellent soldiers was to be a recommendation from three members of the Party of one-year standing, who had known the candidate for at least one year. The period of candidacy was shortened to three months. Both the campaign


to join the Party and the demand to do so were at their height during the preparations for a great attack or offensive. There is a utilitarian as well as a psychological explanation for this phenomenon. From a utilitarian point of view commanders were eager to have as many Communists in their units as possible because they were trustworthy in an Army that consisted of so many and such diverse groups. On the Leningrad Front for instance, the idea was that every crew would include at least one Communist or a member of the Komsomol. During the operations in the Far East (1945) the Marines were organized in crews of five, consisting of veterans, Communists and members of the Komsomol. They were the first to jump overboard and by personal example helped the others to overcome the fear of plunging into water (vodoboyazn). That in its turn enhanced the pace of operations. More than 30,000 of the Pacific units were rewarded with citations and medals, of which 23,786 recipients were Communists or members of the Komsomol.107 Indeed, many commanders were Communists as were the best heavy machinegunners, gunlayers and drivers of heavy vehicles.108 The political workers were caught in a difficult position. They helped the commanders to build up morale and to instil in the soldiers both courage and heroism (sometimes formulated as contempt for death (prezrenie k smerti). However, they were also called upon to demonstrate by personal example their own implementation of their ideas. The combat political workers (politboitzi) paid dearly for this. During the first six months of the war more than 500,000 members and candidate members were casualties.109 Three million Communists lost their lives during the Great Patriotic War.110 The psychological explanation for joining the Party before great offensives is that for many soldiers the Party was the only spiritual support they could hope for apart from comradeship, as all the non-material aspects of military life were under the supervision of the Party. The Party ran the clubs, liaison with the families, if any, entertainment and care for the wounded and the sick. The Party served in the Red Army the same functions that in other armies were served by religion. Morale and command The role of the commander in raising the morale of his unit by discipline has already been referred to above. Despite the tribulations in the status of the commander and the uneasy relations with the commissars, several great traditions had always been adhered to in the Red Army. The first and most important is the personal example of the


commander. The epitome of such personal example is the order ‘follow me’. However, at the beginning of the war this glorious tradition had to be partially abandoned because the Red Army could not sustain the high rate of casualties among the officer corps.111 Later, as we have seen, a not inconsiderable amount of doubt was cast by the authorities on the loyalty of the officer corps, both in Order No. 270 and in Order No. 227. The honour and the status of the commander was not fully restored until October 1942, prior to the great offensive in Stalingrad, only to be lost again soon after the end of the war. Nevertheless, victory over the Wehrmacht was unimaginable without the ingenuity, the courage and the resourcefulness of the officer corps. The award ‘Hero of the Soviet Union’ was given to 7,500 officers. One hundred officers received the medal twice and G.K.Zhukov, I.N.Kozhedub and A.I.Pokryshkin received it three times; 47.8 per cent of junior officers, 13.8 per cent of high ranking officers and 2.3 per cent of senior officers received the citation. High ranking commanders do not have direct contact with the battlefield and with their soldiers, but when they do, a gesture, a word, an explanation, or an order may make the difference between demoralization and victory. At the beginning of the war, under the effect of surprise and disorientation, those commanders that could rise to the occasion generated combat spirit when everything else failed. Facing the relentless German advance and the feeble resistance in some sectors of the front, the instinct for self-preservation prevailed. The impulse of the individual soldier is to run when the framework of discipline is broken and the lines of communications are cut. When that happened in several units, some junior commanders, usually the backbone of the fighting organization, joined the men because they were influenced by their subordinates, or lost their nerve, or simply because there were no superiors around to provide leadership. It is under such circumstances that panic and rumours take the lead. Commanders who did not lose their heads used persuasion, personal example and organizational improvization to restore faith in the command and to calm down the men, usually at great risk. Some talked to the soldiers on the road, others stood erect in the line of fire, others uncovered their insignia while talking softly to the men.112 Knowing the great influence that a presence of a high ranking commander radiates on the battlefield, it is surprising that Stalin himself did not make the utmost of his overwhelming prestige during the war. According to some accounts he did visit the front-line in August 1943, but if he did, his


visit there was shrouded with such secrecy that its potential impact on the morale of the troops was completely lost.113 Commanders of all ranks were forced to take agonizing decisions when caught between their duty as loyal subordinates and their professional judgement as commanders in the field. Even when they could count on the support of their staff and military council, including the political commissar, they remained accountable in case of a possible decimation of their command and in case they decided to withdraw without permission from a higher authority. Hesitation might have had a tremendous effect on morale, but both right and wrong decisions could incur a military tribunal.114 A ‘right’ decision in this context is a decision that may be justified on professional grounds but was taken against orders; a ‘wrong’ decision is one that results in a great loss of ground to the enemy, such as an important position, or one that results in a high rate of casualties. It should be remembered that Order No. 227 left some margin of doubt with regard to the obligation to fight to the last man. It states ‘We must cling to every plot of Soviet soil and maintain it as much as possible.’ It left the last decision then to the authorities, namely the highest available commander, to decide whether he should fight to the end or withdraw. This decision brings into sharp relief the main subject of this study. The commander on the battlefield must choose between the importance of his task and the value he attaches to the lives of his men. The number of casualties may be considered as a predominant factor in the state of morale, either on the level of the primary group or on higher levels. Under stress, subordinates’ faith in their commanders may become very fragile, In badly depleted units the feeling that comrades’ lives were ‘wasted’ may easily break the confidence in the command and push junior commanders to support their subordinates ‘against “unreasonable” demands from above’.115 Put differently the choice is between the commander’s best professional judgement and other considerations. It should be borne in mind that the Supreme Commander-in-Chief used to intervene directly in the planning or even in the operational side of combat activities. It was not at all easy to stick with one’s decisions against the advice of Stalin. The agony of a commander was aggravated in particular if a decision had already been taken and orders were issued to the commanding staff. Changing orders may have a negative influence on morale. Evidently, on occasions high ranking officers did argue with Stalin, stood by their decisions and eventually received his blessing.116


No less agonizing was the problem of the Navy. Warships are sent out to sea to make war and to be sunk if necessary. However battleships may make the difference between defeat and victory in a major operation. For a naval commander to lose a battleship is not only to lose so many hundreds of sailors, it may also mean losing his whole command in one stroke. Therefore, admirals are known to have avoided major encounters under unfavourable circumstances to save their ships. Some were severely taken to task later when history was no longer being made but was being written.117 Strictly speaking it is not a straight choice between carrying out a command and attempting to save life although indirectly the results of an admiral’s decision may save or doom many lives. It definitely pertains to the problem of morale as the loss of a battleship is known to have had a tremendous, even shattering effect on morale. Valour and morale Symbolism has a great significance in military life. Uniforms, insignia, orders and medals, parades and rituals are cherished by those who are called to give their life to defend the motherland. They are held in high esteem in particular by those who make the military a way of life, namely, career officers. It was Peter the Great who introduced the tradition of the Guards into the Russian Army. In the Great Patriotic War the idea was first implemented in 1941 (18 September 1941). During the war 11 All-Arms Armies, 6 Tank Armies, 82 Corps, 215 Divisions, 16 submarines and 18 ships received the honour of being called Guards, meaning a unit that has passed the test of fire with flying colours. Some units received the citation twice: once in the Civil War and once in the Great Patriotic War. In fact nearly 11,000 units received the citation, of which 29 received it more than five times and also received medals.118 Divisive forces under f ire The same divisive forces that were in operation before the war were also visible during the war. The incessant harping on the theme of hatred for the enemy ‘the science of hatred’ (nauka nenavisti), is proof of the need for interminable debasing of the enemy. Emotional hatred for an enemy may help to overcome fear and pre-combat trepidation, but in some units the problem seemed to have been that there was not enough hostility. Hatred for a common enemy also cements the cohesiveness of


a group or unit ‘Groups are founded on the basis of mutual attraction, tactical requirements and interdependence, and shared values and goals.’119 In the years 1940–41 the political organization of some units did not care to enlist enough Communists to help commanders in building up the political morale of the troops. The performance of these units was not as good as that of the others: ‘there were some objective reasons— many of the enlisted came from West Ukraine, Moldavia and the Baltic States’.120 The propaganda before and during the war upheld the glorious traditions of the Russian people. In March and April 1942, one of the main political themes was the celebration of 700 years since the victory of Alexander Nevsky over the German knights who had entered the territory of Pskov. The victory was celebrated as a symbol of Russian patriotism. The West Ukrainians, the Moldavians and the Baltic people did not have any particular reason to rejoice in the Russian celebration. For those who knew their history the name of Alexander Nevsky was also associated with a victory over the Lithuanians. Even in July-August 1942, Glav-PURKKA worked out recommendations about political work among the non-Russian soldiers. Thus more than a year after the beginning of the war, when comradeship and combat experience had been shared by so many soldiers, either the authorities did not trust the spontaneous feelings of the troops or else they had reasons to doubt these feelings. The non-Russian troops were bombarded with publications against ‘nationalism and chauvinism of a great power’ and were also taught Russian.121 In 1944, on the Volkhov Front, 20 per cent of Army 67 and the 2nd Shock Army were nonRussians: Kirgiz, Tadzhiks, Uzbeks, Tatars and Kazachs. Special training methods were needed to teach them how to use their weapons.122 Russian or Soviet patriotism were emphasized alternately, according to needs. In the war against Japan, for instance, Soviet patriotism had priority in order to mobilize Mongolian good will. However, at the victory celebration in the Kremlin, Stalin raised his glass to cheer the Russian people (prezhde vsego za zdorove russkogo naroda).123 The final breakdown of military casualties has not yet been made, but one can assume that the Russian share would be high, perhaps the highest of all nationalities. The Soviet Union fought the largest part of the Wehrmacht throughout the war and the Russian people probably carried at least half the burden.


AN ASSESSMENT OF THE SOVIET ATTITUDE TO THE COST OF FIGHTING As long as the influence of the surprise attack lasted, neither the ethics nor the pace of the war were in the hands of the Red Army. When it finally evaporated after the battle of Kursk (July 1943) the rules of the lethal game were set The discipline and the morale of the Red Army were greatly affected by the fortunes of war on the battlefield. From a strictly disciplinary and juridical point of view Soviet disciplinary codes do not contain a direct order to fight unto death, to stand to the end. These codes provide, however, the framework for such an order, in particular the harsh code that was promulgated after the Winter War (May 1940). Therefore, on the one hand, discipline had to be bolstered with ever more decrees and strict regulations and on the other it had to be left to commanders’ discretion and combat proficiency. However, the relationship between the State and the military has never been easy. Furthermore, after the tremendous defeats during the first months of war, Stalin was eager to restore his position as the infallible leader. Therefore he made the officer corps a scapegoat for his own failures. Tightening the screws on the commanders did not only work against one of the first rules of morale, namely, faith in the commanding officer, but was actually a vindication of this rule, as tension was built between rank and file. In order to overcome this contradiction the institution of commissars was reintroduced in July 1941 when an inexperienced Stalin tried to run the military machine as though it were his Party’s apparatus. The decree was not reversed until October 1942, on the eve of the great offensive in Stalingrad, when Stalin was more confident in himself and in his generals and when so much depended on the morale of the commander. In the first part of this chapter we saw that there is no linear reciprocity between discipline and morale. Soviet disciplinary measures in the first 18 months of war were a frantic attempt to fortify the fighting spirit in order to survive against many odds. Rules, regulations and decrees lashed out in all directions. They were aimed at a slackening discipline in its most basic form, that is, the impulse to run away when the chain of command is broken and the unit stops functioning as an organized group; but they were also aimed at nonadherence to regular combat procedures, as for instance ‘heroic’ headon attacks in waves. Such attacks were even encouraged among the ranks of the ‘opolchenia’ (volunteer corps) during the battle of


Moscow, but were frowned upon in regular units and after January 1942 even in irregular units. Strict discipline completely forfeited its aim when it was at cross purposes with the operational plan. This was the case with Order No. 227 (28 July, 1942) which instructed commanders and soldiers to stand at any cost and not to allow a retreat, while at the Stavka it was decided to start a flexible defence that would not allow encirclements en masse and great defeats on the scale of the first year of war. Along with this order the Supreme High Command introduced two harsh measures: penal battalions (shtrafbat) and ‘holding units’ (otryadi zagrazhdenia) to be posted behind the lines to fight against ‘cowards’ and ‘panickers’. The ‘holding units’ were cancelled after three months because they proved ineffective and because their effect on the morale was dubious. The conclusion of this study is that the Soviet authorities were prepared to go to great lengths in order to stiffen resistance to the enemy. Two points should be clarified with regard to discipline. Firstly, for lack of a direct order to stand to the end, even the harsh Order No. 227 instructed the troops to steadfastness ‘as much as possible’ and made allowances for authorized retreats. Secondly, discipline does not consist of orders alone. Under more sober circumstances Soviet military authorities knew that perfectly well, as all former disciplinary codices bear witness. Anxiety, panic, scarcity of information and Stalin’s ruthlessness joined to produce some of the harshest disciplinary measures known in Russian military history. It is impossible to assess how many lives were lost because of these harsh measures and how many were saved as a result of Soviet stiff resistance that might have been influenced by such measures. Any attempt at comparison between Soviet discipline and that of other armies is futile because the war launched by Germany against the Soviet Union was unique. Nevertheless, it is noteworthy that disciplinary codices of other armies are not much different from those of the Red Army. The difference lies not in the inclination but in the praxis. During the Second World War the Red Army did exercise more capital punishments than its allies. Morale proved to be as fragile in the Red Army as in any other. It was affected by battle fatigue, traumatic experiences, lack of sleep, bad command and too long on the line. Soviet authorities used all the known methods to raise morale—lectures, entertainment, education and propaganda—but it seems that the most effective way was talks in small groups, aimed at a specific point. If in the Great War psychology was unknown or at least was not very much in practical use, it was not the case in the Red Army during the Great Patriotic War, although its use was


uneven and cannot be considered as routine. The authorities definitely invested much effort in an attempt to raise morale. Some of the methods may seem crude but then, it seems that attention is no less important than sophistication in the attitude towards the soldier in the field. Contemporary discipline and morale Although on the face of it discipline has not changed over the years, one can discern many modifications and variations in modern Soviet perceptions of discipline and morale. Furthermore, the upheaval of the Soviet Union does not allow for complacency. Underneath the usual heroic language of the military establishment one can easily sense the concern. Even books published in 1990 still use the tedious phrase: ‘In case of war, if the imperialists unleash it’. But every serious strategist in the Soviet Union knows that besides the external threat, which cannot be underestimated in view of the endless crises around or not too far from the borders of the USSR, the Soviet Armed Forces are beset with ideological problems. The unity of land, people and Army was under attack when the aim and purpose of the Soviet Union as a political entity was less questionable than now, even during the grim and heroic days of the Great Patriotic War. Diversive forces in the past were evolutionary in nature. Although they jeopardized the cohesiveness of units they did not put a question mark on the very existence of the State, nor for that matter on the capability of the Armed Forces to function. Indeed, there were cracks in the Soviet shield at the first period of the war in Afghanistan, but these were patched up by administrative measures, such as moving around some units, replacing some formations, or changing the tactics of the war from a war of attrition to a more technological war. Such measures are not sufficient now when republics of the Union demand autonomy or independence, in political as well as in military matters. Both NATO and the Warsaw Pact were based on a certain ambivalence in overall strategy as well as in the division of labour between their member-states. It has never been resolved whether NATO is a tool of the ‘free world’ designed to contain expansionist intentions of Communism the world over, or an umbrella to protect Western Europe from Soviet threats and to prevent a deterrence failure on the continent, which might deteriorate into a global crisis. According to the first assumption non-American NATO forces were supposed to assist US forces to protect ‘indivisible peace’ everywhere: in Korea, in Vietnam, or in the Persian Gulf; according to the second—US forces in


Europe were supposed to have formed a ‘trip wire’ in case of a rapid Soviet advance to the Channel. Tactical nuclear missiles as well as cruise missiles based on European soil were supposed to have formed deterrence against Soviet nuclear adventures. Since 1955 the basic concept of Soviet collective security has been formally based on the unity of the Socialist countries, locked in fraternity and in the Warsaw Pact Treaty. This idea, erroneous as it might have been from its inception and half-baked, as it might have been, in its implementation, has been nevertheless the centrepiece of Soviet official defence policy and has sucked in many resources. Since the Soviet Government has never resolved whether it wanted a political organization with a military back-up to defend Socialism in Eastern Europe, or a military organization with some political attributes to assist the Soviet Armed Forces in case of a major crisis in Europe, the aim of the Warsaw Pact has remained ambivalent. In fact the Soviet Armed Forces were never dependent on Warsaw Pact forces. At best they trained and exercised with several specialized units that in a case of war were supposed to be incorporated in the main body of the Soviet Armed Forces. Consequently, Soviet forces in Eastern Europe formed a shield for local governments, which more often than not, were imposed on their people. As such, Soviet divisions in Eastern Europe, formidable as they were, served more as police than as military forces. The political aspect was very much one-sided since the Soviet groups of forces in Eastern Europe wielded great political influence by their sheer presence and under the cloak of the Brezhnev doctrine, whereas the political organization of the Pact has never assumed prestige and was of little significance. As soon as the Brezhnev doctrine was abrogated, signifying Moscow’s acquiescence in the ‘democratization’ of Eastern Europe, the walls came tumbling down, literally and figuratively, forcing Moscow and the Eastern bloc to face for the first time in earnest the external implications of Soviet domestic perestroika. From a morale and discipline point of view it meant that ‘the international duty’ of the Soviet soldier became even more obscure than in the past. The morale of the Soviet soldier who invaded Prague, or Afghanistan was not higher because he was told that he was fulfilling his ‘international duty’. The discipline of Azeri soldiers who were sent to fight in Afghanistan under the command of a Russian officer against the Azeri population, was not known to be impeccable. The authority of Gorbachev as the Commander-in-Chief of the Soviet Armed Forces does not carry more weight when Azeri soldiers are prevented by Soviet (on the whole Russian) officers from pursuing their national aspirations,


namely killing Armenians. National, religious and ethnic strife which cuts across multinational units is not conducive to high morale, fighting spirit, discipline, or readiness to carry out orders without dispute. It has been suggested above that the concept of the Warsaw Pact might have been strategically erroneous. The idea of ‘cordon sanitaire’ could fit into a conventional battlefield which needed strategic depth and was based on Russia’s past experience, i.e. the fact that it was attacked from the west twice in one century. (that is if one does not include the ‘intervention’ and the Polish adventure). In the nuclear age such strategic ideas became obsolete and in due course also proved to be politically unsound. The only military actions ever taken by the Pact were against its flesh and blood: in 1956 in Budapest and in 1968 in Prague. All it managed to do in reality was to alienate the Soviet Union in Eastern Europe and to worry the USA and NATO. From a strategic point of view the years of the Cold War were a frightening exercise in nuclear and conventional deployment, masquerading as an American effort to contain Communism in order to defend democracy, and a Soviet effort to achieve parity with the USA and to defend Socialism. The conventional build-up by NATO and WTO was taken extremely seriously by the parties concerned until the agreement of the INF was signed, thus revealing that the Soviet conventional advantage and alleged threat to Europe was a chimera. Apparently, the Soviet Union volunteered willingly to get rid of its ‘advantage’, indeed as willingly as the USA volunteered to lift the IRM that since 1985 was supposed to have been the immediate deterrence against a Soviet rapid advance into Western Europe. Now more than ever before a would-be united Europe, the USA and the USSR (as long as we may still use this name) should look for a new strategy in Europe. A NEW STRATEGY FOR THE 1990s AND BEYOND The Soviet Union seems to be looking not only for a new strategy but also for a new type of army, precisely because its former system of collective security has collapsed. The balance of forces that has recently crumbled was based on a bi-polar system with a super-power at each pole. The definition of a superpower incorporates a dynamic economic structure, a stable political system and a large military power. The Soviet Union was beginning to disintegrate because the economic structure proved unable to sustain either the political system or the military machine. In order to work out a new strategy the Soviet


leadership must redress two sets of equations: the domestic and the external. On the domestic front, in the words of a Soviet analyst, a ‘realistic reassessment of the challenges to Soviet national security lay not in the outside world but inside the country, in its stagnating economy, falling living standards, growing technological backwardness and in the deterioration of the environment’.124 A realistic assessment is a necessary diagnostic and psychological process at the end of which the problem may only be aggravated and lead to further weakening of the political system. This compound strain of a deteriorating economic system leading to political instability is exacerbated by the growing dependence on external good will. In short, the weaker the Soviet system and the less menacing for its environment, the less capable it is of coming up with a new strategy. The dilemma of the new strategy is how to reduce the armour without affecting the armature. There is no argument between the political leadership and the military that the Armed Forces must be reduced in size, the main argument is the amount of threat and the likelihood of a war ‘unleashed by the imperialists’ (a resolution to this effect was passed in the 28th Congress of the Communist Party in July 1990). Given the economic constraints of the Soviet Union, the collapse of the Eastern bloc and the SovietAmerican agreements, a shift from the current military system to a much smaller professional army seems not an illogical conclusion. The way to achieve this goal is strewn with obstacles: there are many vested interests, many jobs that may become redundant, many privileges that would have to be given up. Let us quote another Soviet analyst who said that in the past the decision making procedure was in the hands of a small group of politicians, who did not consult the people, nor the Supreme Soviet. They did not even bother to study the view of the military. During the era of ‘perestroika’ it is impossible to make a decision without the supreme State organs. Generals and Marshals never had a free hand, they do not have it at present and they shall not have it in the future’.125 Although the military in the USSR has never had a free hand, for several decades it was consulted, as its share in national resources grew larger by the year. The same applies when reductions of the Armed Forces are in the offing. Indeed, in the best tradition of Soviet recent past the ideas about the planned reductions were discussed in military academies and the military leadership share the burden of responsibility for the


reductions that are in the making. However, still on the home front, the recent and current upsurge of national sentiments presents the military and the political leadership of the Soviet Union with problems greater than merely the size of the Army. One such problem is whether by the end of the decade the Government will still deal with a Soviet Union, a Soviet people and Soviet Armed Forces, or will it have to deal with a confederation of autonomous and semi-autonomous entities and a Russian Army. The recent Ukrainian declaration about the supremacy of their law over that of the Soviet Union and their wish to have their own army, are only some of the ominous signs of this tendency. Soviet present insistence on the significance of the UN in resolving international crises may shed a grotesque light on Soviet past insistence on having three seats in the UN assembly: for the USSR, Byelorussia and the Ukraine. It is not implausible that some time in the not too distant future there might be a divergency of opinions between the Soviet and the Ukrainian delegations to the UN. It is incomprehensible how these diverse, contradictory currents, can be moulded within the framework of one disciplinary code, or imbued with the same morale. In summary, the main strategic problems to be solved are hued with strong political colours. New perception of national security will have to take into consideration the following questions concerning the Armed Forces: a) Size; b) type i.e. professional, regular, volunteer, or some mix of all three; and c) ethnic composition. If and when these problems are resolved a host of new problems will surface, for example sociological problems such as new vocations for career officers that might become redundant when the Army is reduced in size; absorption by the market of many youngsters, who in the first stage (12 per cent of the Soviet Armed Forces by January 1991) will have to leave the forces and in the second will not be enlisted. Noteworthy in this respect is a Soviet announcement that by January 1991 the size of the Soviet Armed Forces will be 3,760,000 instead of the current figure of approximately 4,200,000, and the somewhat enigmatic announcement by the Supreme Soviet that by 1995 the percentage of security expenditure in the budget will be reduced to 40– 50 per cent of the present rate.


The strategy of the future will have to allow for the new circumstances of a huge nuclear power under the supervision of a less stable political centre, or that of a loose federation of autonomous or independent countries. This new phenomenon calls even now on both the Soviet Government and the West to be cautious in the agreements they sign and the verification upon which they agree. The USSR has already proposed officially to establish a centre to deal with reducing the danger of war and surprise attack, which could in turn pave the way for an ‘all-European committee of foreign ministers, for an institute of annual summits of the 35’ (since the unification of Germany the number of states in the EC is 34),126 Soviet and Hungarian diplomatic representatives in NATO may signal a salutary change. However, this very fact must change the education, indeed the defence philosophy of the Soviet Armed Forces. These are only a few examples of the strategic problems on the Soviet domestic front. If the tendency of at least part of the Soviet leadership is to withdraw into ‘fortress Russia’, i.e. to keep the Russian Republic as the hard core of a new and looser federation of the other fourteen Republics, the strategy of the Armed Forces must undergo a radical change. If the army that might emerge is to retain the name Soviet Armed Forces, a complete reshuffle must take place in the proportion of Slavic to non-Slavic members of the officer corps. However, if current tendencies persist, it is probable that the federated Republics will be reluctant to send draftees to the Soviet Armed Forces and they may prefer to have their own national forces, even if only to parade their national flags and to defend their separatist national interests. In either case the Soviet or the Russian Army may be much smaller than it is now. That means that in an emergency it will have to count on reservists. In other words, the military will have to work out a system of mobilization for both men and equipment and a system of arsenals and depots of large capacity. It will also have to negotiate with several other armies on equal terms. National security in the future will depend on the success of the confidence building measures that are being worked out now, on stabilization of the Soviet political system, on the results of German and European unification and on the lingering uncertainty concerning nuclear weapons. The new balance of forces in Europe suggests a brighter future, with less proclivity for global crisis on European soil. However, if there is a crisis in the next decade it is very likely that the Soviet (Russian) Army will have to fight it alone. Indeed Soviet units have already been sent to intervene in national disputes within Soviet Republics. This is a far cry from an ‘international


duty’. Even if this tendency persists without affecting the cohesiveness of the RSFSR, it calls for new educational principles for Soviet rank and file. So far we have dealt with the domestic side of possible changes of strategy, however to be able to produce a new strategy for the next decade, the Soviet Government must also deal with the external environment both close and distant, both in terms of space and in terms of time. The official diplomatic line taken by the Soviet Government is a complete elimination of nuclear power world-wide, as well as a semiofficial line regarding ‘open skies, open seas and open land’. The Government, though, makes allowances for the Western approach of ‘minimal deterrence’ and is not very likely to give up its nuclear capacity unilaterally. As long as the ‘deterrence of nuclear attack remains the cornerstone of US national security’, the USSR will have to retain its nuclear capability at a level that is perceived as matching the threat The US and NATO remain the main concern of USSR strategists, in particular in the military establishment, but there is also concern about nuclear proliferation, missile technology proliferation and the possible rise of new potential alliances, armed with nuclear capability, around the southern borders of the USSR. The USSR, WTO and NATO On the face of it the WTO has become obsolete in two ways. In the first place it lost its political purpose when the Brezhnev doctrine was abrogated; secondly, its military uselessness came into sharp relief when the USSR was asked to pull out its forces from Eastern Europe. The withdrawal of Soviet forces from Eastern Europe is now in progress and if all goes well, by 1992 there will be only a few Soviet divisions outside Soviet territory and by the year 2000 only a few outside Russian territory and those may have to ask permission to stay. However, one must bear in mind that under Soviet tutelage the Eastern bloc was stable and quiet as far as inter-bloc relations were concerned. National and ethnic animosities were kept tightly under Soviet control. As long as perestroika is the official policy of the USSR the withdrawal of Soviet forces from Eastern Europe will go on uninterrupted. It is not likely that East European countries would like to subjugate their forces to the WTO command as it is today, but it is probable that in the light of a united Germany and for the period of transition, Poland might like to maintain at least some tenuous ties with the Treaty (the symbolic name—the Warsaw Pact—also carries some


minor weight). The WTO may still be called upon to help in disputes between Hungary and Romania and between would-be free Baltic States and Poland. The break-up of the bi-polar system may raise the ghost of the ‘Eastern question’, of which the upheavals in Timishuara, Yugoslavia and Albania are ominous reminders. For most political and military intents and purposes the Warsaw Pact is being dissolved. Far more complex and fraught with uncertainties is the future of NATO and the future of the USSRNATO relationship. Soviet strategists point with great accuracy at the bones of contention, namely: ‘forward defence’ and ‘flexible response’. The London Declaration (6 July 1990), at the end of a two-day summit meeting of NATO, struggled with these issues and others to some effect. The Soviet Union and NATO have now declared that they would not be the first to use force. The London Declaration states that: ‘the alliance’s integrated force structure and its strategy will change fundamentally’. NATO seems to be satisfied with the changes in Soviet strategy and the implementation of the new doctrine of ‘reasonable sufficiency’. However, the ambiguity concerning the use of nuclear power still hovers over Europe: Finally, with the total withdrawal of Soviet stationed forces and the implementation of a CFE agreement, the allies concerned can reduce their reliance on nuclear weapons. These will continue to fulfil an essential role in the overall strategy of the alliance to prevent war by ensuring that there are no circumstances in which nuclear retaliation in response to military action might be discounted.127 Europe as a ‘Common European home’ or as ‘an integrated free Europe’ will see a different future as far as the ‘delicate balance of terror’ is concerned. The nuclear arsenal will be smaller and under more supervision, namely ‘verification’, and it is very likely that conventional forces will also be smaller in size with less and smaller exercises. However, imponderable circumstances will remain in which nuclear retaliation cannot be discounted. As the demise of the Warsaw Pact is suspended for a while and NATO is feeling its way towards a new mission, the CSCE (Council for Security and Cooperation in Europe) is emerging with a claim for a single European military identity of its own. The Soviet strategic agenda will have to include the organization and the mission of the Armed Forces in the face of a volatile home front,


defence of new and perhaps not yet final borders and a lingering uncertainty concerning a possible use of nuclear retaliation. This means that education in the Soviet Armed Forces will have to include in the future, as in the past, psychological preparation for ‘catastrophic situations’, namely a possibility of nuclear attack. Disciplinary codes and morale preparations for an environment of mass destrucion will have to remain. The uncertainty with regard to nuclear retaliation is further complicated by the unification of Germany. Both Germany and the Soviet Union are well aware of the complications, the drawbacks and the benefits thereof. The shared concern has already added a new aspect to Gorbachev’s definition of the new Europe. In a Soviet-German declaration (Bonn, 21 June 1989) both Governments resolved to build a Common Home ‘in which the United States and Canada have a place as well’. As already stated, it is economic power, a stable political body and military might, which make a superpower. The question now is whether these three are necessary and sufficient conditions. After some American-Soviet haggling and a great deal of German persuasion, the Soviet Government gave in on the question of Germany’s membership of NATO. This concession raises an interesting problem which pertains not only to security in Europe but also to a much wider question: the nature of sovereignty and the face of future superpowers. Will Germany as a member of NATO have access to nuclear power, or will it give up a portion of its sovereignty by disclaiming such access? Germany is going out of its way to reassure its neighbours of its good will. It boldly took an anti-Locarno step by recognizing the Oder-Neisse as the permanent border between Germany and Poland, as though a proof was needed that the spectre of the marching Wehrmacht had been laid to eternal rest However the price Germany paid to the Soviet Union: financing a residual Soviet force in East Germany, even if it is only for a short period of time, adds further complication to the problem of sovereignty. The Soviet-German agreement which incorporates a lucrative financial boost to the Soviet economy, does not settle the question of the nature of superpowers. How long can a country enjoy a robust economic infrastructure and a stable political system without aspiring also to become a strong military power? Is there a guarantee in the new framework of Europe and in the new international atmosphere against irrational forces?


Conventional forces in Europe The political powers, European and non-European, would have us believe that security and confidence in Europe are predicated on the CFE, namely, agreements concerning reduction of conventional forces in Europe. On the face of it agreements on conventional forces seem to be easier than those on nuclear forces, but the world lost its innocence with the invention of the atomic bomb. With a fair amount of confidence nuclear powers may be put under control, but even if the Soviet idealistic demand was accepted and there was a complete nuclear disarmament it would not put an end to the problem. The know-how cannot be eradicated and a joint international effort of gigantic magnitude is necessary to stop proliferation, if it is possible at all, in view of the prolonged tension between India and Pakistan and the crisis in the Persian Gulf. Both superpowers retain strong schools of military diehards, who are as afraid of the ill intention of the other side as they are of losing ‘a sweet enemy’. However, conventional forces as such also present the strategists with many problems. In the transitional period, that is, when the need to think in ‘Pan European’ terms is pressing and popular, while old suspicions and some new ones still maintain the traditional blocs, there is a sense of vacillation between collective security and individual susceptibilities. The WTO is most definitely disintegrating for practical as well as for ‘ideological’ reasons. The practical reasons are the abrogation of the Brezhnev doctrine and the incapability of the USSR to sustain the burden of such a huge military organization. The ‘ideological’ reasons are inherent in the Treaty from its inception. The preamble to the Treaty (Warsaw, 14 May 1955) calls for the establishment of a system of European collective security and Article 11 stipulates that the treaty will stop functioning when a treaty of collective security is signed in Europe.127 It seems that such a treaty is now within grasp. However, the Soviet Union is not unambiguous in its statements about the need to dissolve the blocs. On the one hand the Soviet Government has taken many steps towards this end and Gorbachev made it very clear that it was his wish to put an end to the blocs and with them to the division of Europe. On the other hand, there are several Soviet statements to the effect that the blocs actually help to stabilize the international political arena at a period of transition. The dissonance between collective security and concerns of individual countries led to the arrangement of two sets of talks: one among the 23 (17 NATO and 6 WTO countries) dealing with the CFE, and another among the 35, dealing with CSBM (Confidence- and Security-Building


Measures). Thus, two forums deal with the security problems of Europe: the forum of the 23 respects the wishes of most NATO countries and still acknowledges the old alliances, while the forum of the 35 was assembled due to the wish of France, Sweden and the WTO to do away with old alliances. As soon as negotiations started old unsettled feuds surfaced between Greece and Turkey and between Bulgaria and Turkey. Italy complained that the problems of the Mediterranean were not addressed with due circumspect and Spain demanded closer ties with France. These difficulties notwithstanding, the talks in Vienna are moving apace. The USSR is prepared to reduce its conventional forces which must induce a radical change in organization and deployment of forces in the ATTU (Atlantic to Ural Zone). In many respects the organization and deployment of the Soviet Armed Forces in the decade to come will be defensive indeed. If all goes according to plan motorized infantry divisions will lose 40 per cent of their tanks (the number of tanks will be reduced from the current 270 to 160 per division) and tank regiments will be removed from the motorized infantry divisions. The armoured divisions will also lose 20 per cent of their tanks by removing one tank regiment from each armoured division (there will be again 265 tanks to a division instead of the current 330). These reductions coupled with the reductions in the number of warplanes may remove the fear of a conventional surprise attack in Europe which has been at the core of so much suspicion and mutual lack of confidence during the years of the Cold War. The question that presents itself to the suspicious mind is what are the effects of new technologies on the new balance of conventional forces that is emerging out of the CFE and the CSBM? The first problem for the Soviet strategist-instructor is the preamble to many of the education-instruction books now in use for political and tactical education of the soldier and officer: will it still include in the future the admonition ‘In case of a war, if the imperialists would dare to unleash it’? What will serve for future motivation of the young recruit: Russian history; joint endeavour of the Soviet nation, which may be defunct; national or international-cum-Communist sentiments? Many and compound risks are involved in the use and implementation of new technologies. In the first place they do not carry the stigma attached to nuclear weapons and therefore the temptation to use them against enemy forces which have been reduced in size may be irresistible at a time of acute crisis. Although reducing manpower is becoming operationally meaningless in view of modern technological capabilities, if ‘conventional deterrence’ fails the temptation to use


ACMs (Advanced Conventional Munitions) in order to annihilate swiftly and efficiently small professional enemy forces will be enormous. The whole idea of ‘conventional deterrence’ has not yet been worked out and the parties, perhaps reluctantly, must retain nuclear power as a weapon of last resort. The 28th Party Congress still upheld the danger emanating from the ‘imperialists’, probably not without studying the London declaration about the changes in NATO strategy including inter alia the clause: ‘NATO will rely more on the ability to build up larger forces if and when they might be needed.’ The future of security in Europe does not depend entirely on the physical withdrawal, redeployment or reduction of forces, or even scrapping of weapon systems, but on the combination of the GFE with the CSBM. Insecurity, instability, suspicion and lack of confidence are not and probably have never been a result of the ill intentions of one side per se, but a result of the interpretation of the intentions and assessment of the capabilities of one side by the other, which led all parties concerned to a worst case analysis. Alliances and their relationships left their imprint on post-war history. The delicate balance of terror was fraught with many dangers apart from being costly, but at least in the eyes of its perpetrators it had one obvious advantage: it was an effective deterrence against nuclear adventures. The contribution of the SDI (Strategic Defence Initiative) to security and stability is still in dispute as it has never been actually deployed. Thus, the Americans may argue that it was at least a ploy to force the Russians back to the negotiation table while the Russians may argue, on the basis of American criticism of the Initiative, that it probably could not have worked anyway. However, peace or war in Europe in the coming decade will depend on diverse forces, such as national feelings, ethnic animosities and old disputes that respectable and reasonable governments do not control. NATO and the USSR have retained enough military punch not only to provide a sop to their respective military establishments but also as a result of the residual caution of politicians at a time of transition. The ‘revolution’ in East Europe and the instability in some of the Soviet republics is so far reaching that the Soviet Government sooner or later will have to attend also to the legal problems involved. For instance Article 37 of the law of the ‘State borders of the USSR’ states: The state borders of the USSR adjacent to the borders of other socialist countries are guarded by border guards together with the border guards of these countries. Mutual means to guard the


USSR state border adjacent to countries of the socialist community are based on agreement and coordination. This rather sanctimonious statement did not stand the test of the Chinese-Soviet tension, when China was considered to be Socialist, so can it stand the test of future possible tensions with countries adjoining the USSR that might repudiate Socialism? What can the instructor in the Soviet Armed Forces tell young recruits now about a former ally which may become a future foe? Problems of morale in the Soviet Armed Forces should be now uppermost on the minds of strategists and political instructors. The strategic agenda for the new decade is to restructure Soviet security and to build it on a reduction of forces, both Soviet and other. Such strategy for stability and confidence may be achieved only through collective security by agreement and consent Soviet politics in Europe, the Middle East and in Southeast Asia seems to be doing just that Furthermore it seems to aim at achieving such agreements in cooperation with the USA and other forces. If perestroika breaks through the lethargy of the Soviet economy while the international climate keeps calm and improving, the USSR or even Russia may come closer to a better choice of strategies. Economic autarky was long ago thrown overboard. The USSR is in dire need of international good will and economic aid. Gorbachev seems to have traded his country’s reluctance to see Germany as a member of NATO for German economic aid of gigantic order. If Japan can be induced to help the USSR or even only the Russian Republic we may see a new alliance of Berlin, Moscow and Tokyo, that may change the face of the earth. This prospect must be of concern to many countries because it cuts across several of the incumbent programmes, including the European Common Market. Even if only part of this strategy is implemented the Soviet Union will by the end of this decade be in a position to make a better choice between the option of a superpower of the old model an economic-political and military giant, or the new model, enjoying economic prosperity and political stability without huge expenditure in military prowess. Morale and discipline of a new order The political leadership of the Soviet Armed Forces now realizes that the military oath that was hallowed by the blood of a whole generation may become meaningless or even an irritant and that the problems of


the new order are of an entirely different nature.128 The magnitude of the change in the USSR is harrowing. It is a change in the quality of relationships between the individual and society, between society and the State and between the State and its environment It is already changing the relationships between the military and society. A new set of disciplinary codes will have to be established for the Armed Forces. The morale of the forces will have to be based on new tenets. The new ‘contract’ between man and society, society and the State and the State and its environment has already created a new atmosphere in the Soviet Union. Soul searching about past experience and the cost of victory against the Nazis have added the missing link to the Soviet attitude towards the value of human life in warfare: the human being ‘as a singular and unique’ creature.

Chapter 5 Conclusion: the value of human life in Soviet warfare

The aim of this study was to examine the attitude of the Soviet military to the value of human life. The assumption was that analysis of the Medical Service, the attitude to prisoners of war and the ethos of ‘fighting at all cost’ would indicate the price that the Soviet authorities were prepared to pay for victory. One major finding of this study is that the attitude was dynamic. Many changes could be discerned during the Soviet period from 1917–1990 in the theoretical, official and practical attitude of the Government and the military to the use of manpower in war, to the treatment of the wounded and ill and to the problem of soldiers who could no longer fight and as a result were captured by the enemy. The evolutionary development in this attitude left its mark on all facets of State, Government and the military: in jurisdiction—laws and regulations; in international law—conventions and treaties; in medicine—investments and improvement; in military routine— disciplinary codices and education. Three main ideas run through the book: 1 A strategic concept: the correlation between time-space-fire power/ manoeuvre-casualties. 2 A behavioural observation: the rationale of fighting armies. 3 A philosophical idea: the relationship between a utilitarian and a compassionate approach to the soldier. The systematic approach of the Soviet military from the early days of the Red Army was typical of theoretical writings of military strategists. They could not draw on Marx or Engels in this respect because the two fathers of the Communist Party did not transmit to posterity many writings on military affairs, but they were lucky to have a rich legacy from Czarist times. Military establishments thrive on traditions because traditions provide assistance in moulding morale and embellish the

180 CONCLUSION: THE VALUE OF HUMAN LIFE

ethos of heroism, which is part of the rationale of fighting armies. In addition to the Czarist legacy Soviet strategists were among the few who drew the right conclusions from the lessons of the Great War. Most strategists in Europe were impressed with the stalemate that was typical of the futility of the offensive which was broken by the fire power of the machine-gun, and failed to see the potential of the tank, the airplane and communication. Some Soviet strategists, Triandaffilov and Tukhachevskii in particular, could see that the trenches of the Somme and of Ypres were not the end of warfare. Consequently they formulated the idea of ‘deep battle’ which was not only a novelty, but which laid the foundations of the ‘All-Arms Army’ and thus gave fire power/ manoeuvre its due priority on the battlefield. Their ideas came up against strong opposition and were buried under layers of ideological dust, but during the Great Patriotic War they were unearthed in the nick of time to save the USSR. THE FIRE POWER/MANOEUVRE COMPONENT OF THE EQUATION The tank occupied a prominent place in Soviet operational thinking long before the country’s industry was capable of producing tanks en masse. Original ideas were initiated in the design, technology, fire power and operational use of tanks in the late 1920s and early 1930s. In the late 1930s, however, Soviet armoured-power thinking and organization was dealt two blows, separate in origin but almost simultaneous in time: the purges of some of the best brains in the country and the wrong conclusions drawn from the Spanish Civil War. The purges are well documented. Within the scope of this study we shall only mention some of the most prominent names involved in the context of tanks: G.S.Isserson, S.N.Krasilnikov, K.B.Kalinovskii. In 1932 S.Amosov knew already that: the significance of tanks in a breakthrough operation is not only in helping the infantry to attack with less casualties but also in providing a rapid pace both at the stage of preparation and in the very act of the breakthrough. In that lies the justification for involving great masses of tanks in operational breakthrough.1 Towards the end of the 1930s the free flow of ideas was interrupted by current events. While some of the best people in military thinking were eliminated by the purges, others were called upon to reorganize the


armoured forces on the basis of recent experience. Yet another group was busy re-thinking and inventing new ideas in the design and technology of modern tanks. The end result of this complex of ideas, political tribulations and operational decisions was better machines and worse operational organization. In August 1938 the Central Committee of the Communist Party held a conference on tank construction. It was a high-powered meeting of Politburo members, the military, tank constructors and technicians. The product of this meeting was two new designs: the T-34 and the KV heavy tank, both flaunting a 76mm gun and a diesel engine. A very small number of the new machines had already put in an appearance in December 1939.2 The organizational element of the armoured forces did not fare as well as the design. As early as 1932 the Red Army formed two mechanized corps, the 11th in the Leningrad Military District and the 45th in the Kiev Military District. Another two corps were formed in 1933 and 1934. In later years, during the 1930s the formation of new units like these stopped but a great deal of experience was gathered in exercises and manoeuvres. In 1938 the four former mechanized corps were reorganized as tank corps, with an establishment of 560 tanks each. They were the 10th in Leningrad, the 15th in Belorussia, the 25th in Kiev and the 20th in Zabaikal Military District The corps consisted of two tank brigades and one rifle-machine-gun brigade. These formations fitted well into the theories of the ‘deep battle’ that had been formulated by Triandafillov at the end of the 1920s.3 Under the growing threat of a possible war in Europe the High Military Council nominated a commission in July 1939 to look into the structure of the armoured forces. The commission was headed by G.I.Kulik and included S.M.Budenny, B.M.Shaposhnikov, S.K.Timoshenko, K.A.Meretskov, L.E.Mekhlis, D.G.Pavlov, E.A.Shchadenko and others. The commission which was about evenly divided between ‘political’ and ‘professional’ experts could not accomplish very much, as opinions were too divergent, but it did note that the Chief of Armoured Forces in the Red Army, Corps-Commander D.G.Pavlov reported that his experience in Spain showed that the existing tank corps with their 560 machines could not exploit successful breakthrough in offensive operations. It seems that only Kulik who had also been in Spain, shared this opinion. All the same, Isserson’s conclusion drawn from the Spanish War was a balanced one: ‘The war in Spain was not yet in fact a war of the new type of combat.’4 What he meant was that the experience of armoured warfare in Spain was too short and inconclusive on which to base far reaching implications.


Shortly after the first meeting of this commission the Red Army occupied West Ukraine in line with the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact. Although it was by and large an exercise in logistics, there were many shortcomings in the handling of formations and the conduct of the whole operation. Consequently, the High Military Council in its meeting of 21 November 1939, decided to disband the tank corps and to reorganize the force in the form of motorized divisions of 275 tanks each. At the beginning of 1940 the Military Council started to form the new divisions and by May there were four. One month later the decision was in effect reversed, and on 9 June 1940 the new Commissar of Defence Timoshenko (who replaced Voroshilov after the Winter War) gave orders for the formation of nine mechanized corps.5 Thus, under contradictory influences and between a criss-cross of ideas the main vehicle of the Red Army ground forces was debilitated and its rejuvenation under the supervision of Timoshenko and Zhukov (who replaced Meretskov as Chief Of Staff on 1 February 1941) was cruelly interrupted by the German onslaught. It is impossible to exaggerate the importance of these contradicting forces among the causes of the enormous number of casualties suffered by the Red Army. The main objective reason that most of the offensive operations at the beginning of the war could not be carried through was lack of manpower and equipment at the fronts and in the armies as a result of the heavy losses during the first month of the war. Of the 170 divisions in five military regions near the borders at the beginning of the war, 28 were completely knocked out and over 70 lost half their manpower and equipment (16 per cent of the divisions were lost; 41 per cent lost half their manpower and equipment; altogether 57 per cent of the divisions near the borders were seriously hit).6 Only then, under the most unfavourable circumstances, the uphill climb started to reverse the process. Along with the rest of the Army, the armoured force had to begin its excruciating fight for time in order to regroup and prepare the formations needed to gain the initiative and secure an advantage over the enemy in fire power/manoeuvre rather than in manpower. The doctrine was there—it had been invented in the 1920s—and the formations were there (as analysed above) until the eve of the Second World War, when they were disbanded as a result of erroneous thinking and under the pressure of political decisions. They were now re-formed, under fire, with a great loss of human life. The fight for time under these conditions involved a great loss of territory and along with it, huge industrial assets in European Russia. Great loss of territory meant an arduous process of withdrawal with the


Germans enjoying air supremacy. The cost of this ordeal, which was marked by the heroic resistance of the Red Army as it withdrew, was a mounting number of casualties. In order to make good use of the time gained at so high a cost in lost territory and casualties, the Soviet Government had to undertake a huge evacuation of industry to the east, beyond the Urals, out of reach of the German air force. The average monthly production of tanks in the second half of 1941 was only 696 units of several designs, which were then divided piecemeal between the harassed tank units and the reserve of the High Command (RGK). Not until 1942, when the industry was able to produce a monthly average of 2060 tanks (50.8 per cent of which were T-34s) could the High Command start planning large-scale operations. The first two tank armies (3rd and 5th) were formed in May and June 1942. By the end of July the formation of two more (1st and 4th) had begun, and in September the 5th Tank Army had to be reorganized. It was obvious that the idea behind such formations was to gain the advantage over the enemy, the question is for what sort of advantage was the Soviet High Command looking? On analysis of the data it is apparent that it was aiming for superiority in fire power and manoeuvrability and not specifically for an advantage in manpower. Furthermore, this effort was deliberate and not just instinctive. In order to win victory over the enemy who is equipped with a great number of tanks and mechanized divisions, it is necessary to deploy not only equivalent units of tanks and mechanized corps, but also tank units of a kind that can rapidly create better conditions for the concentration of tanks in the most important section of the attacking front and for the widest manoeuvre during the process of the operation, in order to achieve the necessary superiority of power in the decisive moment of the combat.7

Once tank formations were re-established in the Red Army, they were constantly improved according to the Soviet doctrine. Thus, in order to improve upon the operations of winter 1942–3, it was decided to free the new formations of their non-mechanized components. That was done by removing the rifle units of the formations and by increasing the mobility of artillery, the rear and the head quarters. These improved formations were beginning to take shape on 28 January 1943. Four reorganized tank armies began operations at the beginning of the springsummer campaign of 1943. By mid-July there were already five and by


January 1944—six. However, it was a process of trial and error. The attempt to equip and deploy such large units in such a short time while the German Army was still formidable, was a painful operation. Not all the tank units could be properly equipped with all the necessary fire power and support units. The cost was ‘a huge toll of casualties and destruction of equipment’. The 3rd Guards Tank Army and the 4th Tank Army lost between 65 and 86 per cent of their tanks respectively, during a very brief operation.8 It is clear that the connection between superiority in fire power/ manoeuvre and the number of casualties was well known to the Soviet High Command. The Orlov operation was the first in which the Red Army had to overcome well-defended enemy positions, which had been planned, organized and built for two years. It was essential not only to plan the whole operation carefully but also to plan the timing: ‘premature attack may meet with strong resistance and the combat under these conditions may drag on and incur unnecessary casualties’.9 In the Orlov operation the GKO consciously allocated the available forces in such a way that the superiority over the enemy told in the main direction of the offensive, while sometimes, in secondary sections of the operation, the enemy enjoyed superiority. In the section of the 11th Guards Army of the Western Front, the ratios against the enemy in the break-through section (14km) was: 5:1 in manpower; 13.5:1 in artillery; 1.7:1 in tanks and SP guns. In the rest of the front (22km) the ratio was actually in favour of the enemy: 1:4.8 in manpower; 1:8.4 in artillery.10 In other words, even after the battle of Stalingrad, when the Red Army seized the strategic initiative, the operations could not be planned so as to achieve winning superiority over the whole front. Thus, the overall result of a given operation could be victory but the Germans could have the upper hand in some sections with the resulting heavy loss in Russian casualties. The correct theoretical ratio of guns, tanks and rifle divisions per kilometre of front was well known but not always available. It consisted of 200–230 guns and mortars; 15–30 tanks per km; and one rifle division of the first echelon per 2km of front at the break-through section. High density of fire power and a better way of application considerably reduced the number of casualties in a break-through operation. If in the counter-attack near Moscow the percentage of casualties of the initial strength of the armies was 1.8–2 per cent, in the battle of Kursk it was 1.2 per cent and towards the end of


the second period of the war it was brought down to 0.4–0.6 per cent.11 However, even at the start of the ‘third period’ of the war, the beginning of 1944, industry could provide for only four or five of the ten ‘fronts’ that participated in the operations.12 The aim of this analysis is to show that the Soviet High Command was well aware of the connection between fire power/mobility and casualties. Moreover, the theoretical significance of this connection had been inscribed in Soviet doctrine long before the beginning of the war. Tukhachevskii in his time, poked fun at people who believed that the Red Army might be supplied with less artillery shells because it was armed with the ‘spirit of the Red Soldier’. In the same context Tukhachevskii also quoted Voroshilov who said that the Army must learn to win victory with a small number of casualties (maloi krov•u).13 This doctrine was not applied, but not because the Soviet High Command was uncaring in its use of manpower, but because the shock of the initial surprise had given the Germans so great an advantage in territory and time that the period of recovery was prolonged almost beyond endurance. The available data clearly indicates that calcuations were made with regard to the possible number of casualties in each type of operation. Such calculations highlight not only the awareness of the command at many levels but also the careful choice of terrain, routes and allocations of forces and means in order to achieve maximum results at minimum cost. Such calculations were also the basis for better coordination between the units and the Medical Service. Even if such coordination was not always effected or effective, it was certainly part of the combat procedure of the Red Army during the latter part of the Great Patriotic War and afterwards.14 A BEHAVIOURAL OBSERVATION: THE RATIONALE OF FIGHTING ARMIES Although generally speaking the military is a reflection of society, there are several marked differences in daily life, in moral norms, in juridical procedures and in appearances between an ordinary citizen and a citizen in uniform. Such differences make the military a distinguishable group, with its special symbols, its own vocabulary and its particular way of solving problems. This mode of behaviour, which is different in many respects from the civilian environment of the military, has nevertheless


many similarities in armies of different countries. The logic of the profession, its vocation and mission in most countries, namely, the protection of the country against military threats from other countries, generate the rationale of fighting armies. Armies cannot function without a strict hierarchical system. Such a hierarchical system turns the order of a superior officer into law and the obedience of a subordinate into a virtue. Military hierarchy cannot operate without the outward symbols of authority—uniforms, insignia, banners and rituals. All these can be effected only through a rigorous imposition of discipline and a wide system of education to keep up morale in face of an impossible task —readiness to give one’s life in order to protect a value. In military hierarchies more than in any other, the elite is distinguished by its appearance, its vocation and its rationale. As long as wars remain a social phenomenon countries will have to maintain and field armies. The task of an army is to serve the country and to defend the values of that country, as they are perceived, or dictated by the political elite of the state. It has been proved time and time again that the legitimacy of a political leadership can be maintained only if there are enough people who are prepared to die in order to defend it. However, the contradiction between the instinct for self-preservation and the call to protect interests or values of an elite can only be ameliorated by means of coercion and persuasion. Military elites then must create and fanatically preserve a set of values which are not always compatible with the conventional wisdom of their society. They must also compose a philosophy, a doctrine and an ethos that will serve as an answer to an unfathomable set of questions: who has the right to send people to their death, what values supersede the value of human life? The rationale of fighting armies therefore is a combination of the state’s need for protection, the willingness of a military elite to dedicate its life to do the job, the obedience of the ‘soldier-philosopher’ and the ‘soldier-victim’ and a symbolic ethos of heroism. The state’s need for protection is the result of a long struggle of political entities to implement diverse interests. The wish to maximize the gains and the need to minimize the cost create a division of power, along political boundaries. Modern nation-states are also threatened by several illogical and irrational impulses of societies, interest groups and governments. Protection of state interests or impulses can be carried out only by organized violence, armed with legal sanctions. Even implementation of some interest group’s aspirations can be carried out only by organized violence. Any organization needs leaders, or officers


and it can function only if the leadership’s orders are adhered to. Obedience to the point of self-sacrifice is possible when there are enough people who believe in the values, the cause of the war, namely, ‘soldier-philosophers’; and enough people who are prepared to die because they do not know how to avoid the call to enlist, namely, ‘soldier-victims’. The Soviet Union and its military, the Red Army, succeeded in mustering enough soldier-philosophers and soldier-victims to defeat the strongest and the most efficient military machine in human history—the Wehrmacht. It managed to do so in spite of Stalin’s terror, despite the hatred for the regime after the purges, and in the face of diverse national ethnic, and religious groups, for whom Soviet State values either meant nothing or were anathema. The only explanation for this phenomenon is the rationale of fighting armies, the imposition of a set of values, like honour, bravery, courage and comradeship, which is possible in the symbolic, ritualistic and oppressive military hierarchy. This rationale was not enough to prevent desertion, or to stop some soldiers from surrendering at the beginning of the war, but it was sufficient to defeat the enemy. The ethos of ‘fighting at all cost’ was imposed on the Red Army, but it also worked. Many soldiers lost their lives unnecessarily in order to maintain the discipline and the morale that was deemed necessary by the Soviet leadership in order to maintain this ethos. The fiction of a Soviet State, Soviet nation and Soviet Army was upheld after the revolution as a result of belief and enthusiasm, and later, by the force of Stalin’s terror. When ideology failed to generate enough power to hold together the State and its periphery, diverse forces like nationalism, chauvinism and a call for freedom combined to cast doubt on the cohesiveness of the Soviet Union. Under that pressure the USSR must look for a new set of values and a new strategy that may serve as a basis for future discipline, which may kindle the fighting spirit, i.e. the morale of its armed forces. The rationale of fighting armies does not make allowances for cowardice, desertion and disloyalty. It can hardly stand hesitancy, equivocation and vacillation. It can distinguish only between heroes and tragic heroes (dead heroes) on the one hand; cowards and ignominious cowards (those who have abandoned their position in face of the enemy), on the other. Rough distinctions like these precipitate suspicions against soldiers who were captured by the enemy, or in Stalin’s parlance ‘gave themselves up’. However, there is no way to mobilize, maintain and lead an army if even its soldier-philosophers do not believe that


they are fighting for a just cause. Even if soldier-philosophers do not need crude heroes and cowards to feed their convictions, they will not put up with leaders who are reputed to be cowardly and disloyal. COMPASSION AND THE UTILITARIAN APPROACH Armies cannot afford to waste the lives of their soldiers. This has nothing to do with the regime and the government, nor with the political leadership. It is strictly a utilitarian approach. Soldiers who do not believe in their government, in their officers and in their cause are not very likely to fight, and may be even less likely to win. It is not a matter of one reckless commander in the field, nor one stupid order, it is a matter of fighting spirit and military atmosphere imbued by signals from above. Such signals must be comprehensive, successive and convincing. The standard of the Soviet Medical Service was not high in comparison with other armies of the Grand Alliance, but it was high enough to convince the soldiers of the Red Army that they were looked after and cared for. Most soldiers could not fail to appreciate the fact that they were attended to soon after they had been injured; they could not fail to sense the love and care of the medical personnel and the tokens of affection sent to them from the civilian population. Many of those who were injured more than once during the war must have been aware of the great improvement in nourishment, equipment and treatment. Soviet soldiers were not spoilt by the authorities but they could hardly expect to be. Many of them enjoyed during the war more respect than in their civilian lives. Responsible jobs were entrusted to them and they were engulfed by a sense of comradeship that had been plucked out of Soviet life during the period of the purges. Soldier-philosophers might care perhaps for some more compassion, but for soldier-victims the strictly utilitarian approach could have easily been interpreted as compassion. The finding of this study is that there has been a steady improvement in the attitude to human lives in Soviet warfare from 1917 to 1990 and that at the time of Stalin, the praxis on many accounts, but not the jurisdiction, was harder in the Red Army than in Western armies. During the Great Patriotic War which was launched and conducted by Nazi Germany with premeditated brutality and breaching all military and humanistic moral codes, the Soviet Government and the military reacted sometimes in a ruthless way, but not in arbitrary inconsideration


for the life and the welfare of its soldiers. Facing a Nazi foe there were many occasions, in particular during the first 18 months of war, when too many soldiers were killed in an attempt to stop the enemy, or to prevent access to some strategic position. Still, it is the nature of a land war, fought on a wide front, where millions of soldiers are pitted against each other, that there are many casualties. Stalin and several members of his entourage made many mistakes before and during the war. There were many inept officers in the Armed Forces and in the political administration. Many orders were implemented with cruelty that can be tolerated only in authoritarian regimes and under circumstances of war. Two of these orders, which dealt with POWs and with the need to fight to the last gasp, have been analysed in this book. It may well be that under a different government, in a regime that put the man and not the collective in the forefront of attention, there would have been more compassion towards the soldiers. It does not follow though that lack of compassion in the official attitude to the human being ‘as a unique and singular creature’ meant a reckless attitude on the part of the Government and the Red Army to the value of human life. After the war great systematic work was carried out in the Soviet Union to improve the treatment and attitude to soldiers. The Soviet Army did not get rid of the ‘dedovshchina’—the harassment by overwork and bullying—but the equipment and the standard of living, and indeed the medical treatment have improved. Some lingering problems still remain as obstacles: personal hygiene is poor and logistics leave much to be desired. However, the awareness that ‘military activities depend to a large extent on the sustainability of the individual soldier, the sailor, the sergeant, the sergeant major, the praporshchik and the michman’15 is a promise for a better future.

190

Notes

1 The Soviet Military Medical Service 1 The Aptekarskii prikas—pharmaceutical decree. 2 F.I.Komarov, Voenno-meditsinskaya podgotovka, (Moscow, 1984), p. 13. 3 N.L.Krylov (ed.), Glavnyi voennyi gospital, (Moscow 1985). 4 Q.Wright, A Study of War, (Chicago, 1965), p. 242. 5 N.Fotion and G.Elfstrom, Military Ethics, (Boston, 1986). 6 M.T.Florinsky, Russia, vol. 2, (New York, 1967), p. 1003. 7 Kliuchevsky, Kurs russki istorii, (Tel Aviv, 1968 in Hebrew), p. 395. 8 E.V.Tarle, Krymskaya voina, vol. 2, (Moscow, 1944), p. 166. 9 ibid., p. 228. 10 Voennaya Entsiklopedia, (St. Petersburg, 1911), S.Peterburgskiya vedomosti, January 1902, no. 7. 11 Entsiklopedicheskii slovar, (St. Petersburg, 1895), p. 561. 12 Y.I.Smyrnov, Voina i voennaya meditsina 1939–1945 gody, (Moscow, Meditsina, 1979), pp. 35–7. 13 Encyclopedia Americana, (Danbury, Conn., 1985), vol. 16. pp. 756–7. 14 Komarov, op.cit, p. 17. 15 Krylov, op.cit, pp. 215–6. 16 Krylov, op.cit, ch. 8. 17 B.Ts. Urlanis, Voiny i narodii naselenie Evropy, (Moscow, 1960), p. 365. 18 Smyrnov, op.cit, p. 68; Komarov, op.cit, p. 19, says that only 11.5 per cent of the wounded died. See also G.A.Miterev (ed.), Dvatsat pyat let sovetskogo zdravookhraneniya (Narkomzdrav SSSR, 1944), p. 61. 19 Smyrnov, op.cit, p. 68, quotes four million wounded and five million ill. 20 ibid., p. 68. 21 ‘Obrashchenie Predsedatelya VTsIK ko vsem trudyashchimsya Sovetskoi Rossii ob okazanii pomoshchi Zapadnomu frontu’, Dekrety sovetskoi vlasti, (henceforth DSV) (Politizdat), 1978, vol. 9, pp. 206–7.

192 NOTES

22 ‘Postanovlenie soveta narodnykh komissarov ob okhrane naimenovaniya i znaka “krasnogo kresta”’, 6 July 1920, DSV, vol. 9, p. 193. 23 Bolshaya Sovetskaya Entsiklopedia 1937; Komarov, Op.Cit, p. 22; Voenno Meditsinskii Zhurnal, (henceforth: VMZ), no. 10, 1976. 24 ‘Dekret ob uprazhdnenii Tsentral•nodovrachebno soveta’, 16 February, 1918, DSV, 1957, p. 478. 25 Krylov, op.cit., p. 79. 26 ‘Dekret o besplatnoi peredache bol•nichnym kassamvsekh lechebnykh uchrezhdenii predpriyatia ilui, vsluchayakh neimenia takovykh, o vydache denezhnykh summ na oborudovanie ikh’, 27 November 1917, DSV, 1957, p. 85. 27 Dekret o sovete vrachebnykh kollegii, 24 January 1919, DSV, 1957, p. 403. 28 VMZ no. 10, 1976. 29 It is interesting to note the scale of priorities of the VTsIK at the time, regarding the needs of the commissariats for additional manpower: the Commissariat of Agriculture received four additional people on its staff; the Commissariat for Health—four; Education—six; the supreme Soviet for Economy—11; and Finance—three, DSV, 1975, vol. 7, p. 49. 30 ‘Postanovlenie soveta raboche-krest•yanskoi oboronyi’, 7 April 1919, DSV, 1971, vol. 5, p. 41. 31 D.Fedotoff-White, The Growth of the Red Army, (Princeton, 1944), p. 51. 32 ibid. 33 L.Schapiro, The Origins of the Communist Autocracy, (New York, 1965), p. 240, n. 14. 34 ‘Postanovlenie soveta raboche-krest•yanskoi oboronyi’, DSV, 1971, vol. 5, p. 40. 35 ‘Postanovlenie soveta oborony o privlechenii k sudu voennogo tribunala meditsinskich rabotnikov, ne otpravlyayushchikhsia na front’, DSV, 1971, Vol. 5, pp. 170–1. 36 DSV, 1975, vol. 7, p. 7. 37 Komarov, op.cit, p. 27. 38 William Henry Chamberlin, The Russian Revolution, (Princeton, 1987), vol. 2, p. 295; Krylov, op.cit., p. 55; ‘Postanovlenie SNK o Moskovskoi chrezvychainoi sanitarnoi komissii; Postanovlenie SNK o sanitarnoi ochistke’, DSV, 1975, vol. 7, pp. 248–50, 322–3; See also Henry E.Sigerist, Medicine and Health in The Soviet Union, (The Citadel Press, New York, 1947), p. 29. 39 Krylov, op.cit., p. 80. 40 ‘Dekret SNK ob obyazatel’nom ospoprivivanii’, 10 April 1919, DSV, 1971, vol. 5, p. 61. 41 ‘Na pomoshch ranenym i bol’nym krasnoarmeitsam’, 1–2 July 1920, DSV, 1978, vol. 9, p. 190.

NOTES 193

42 ‘Postanovlemie predsedatelya VTsIK o gospitalyakh dlya ranenykh i bol’nikh krasnoarmeitsev v Moskve i eyo okrenostyakh’, 9 July 1920. DSV, 1978, vol. 9, pp. 207–9. Note the disciplinary measures against the personnel of the Department for battle-shock. As for the care for the families of Red Army men, see: ‘Dekret ob uvelichenii denezhnogo posobita semeistvam krasnoarmeitsev’, 2 July 1920, DSV, vol. 9, p. 191. 43 ‘Dekret Soveta Oborony ob osvobozhdenii ot sluzhby v Krasnoi Armii spetsyalistov lechebno-vospitatel•nykh uchrezhdeni dlya nesovershenoletnikh’, DSV, 1975, vol. 7, pp. 372–3. 44 Krylov, op.cit, p. 55. 45 Christopher Davis, Unpublished manuscript, (University of Manchester, 1986). 46 C.Davis, Soviet Studies, vol. 35, no. 3, July 1983. 47 ‘Postanovlenie sovet oborony o l•gotakh voenno-sanitarnomu personalu, otpravlyaemomu na front’, 10 December 1919; ‘Postanovlenie soveta oborony ob uluchshenii polozhenia rabotnikov lechebno-sanitarnogo dela’, 20 January 1920, DSV, 1975, vol. 7, p. 7 & pp. 115–17. 48 Komarov, op.cit, p. 29. 49 Davis (1986) op.cit 50 ibid. 51 ‘Postanovlenie soveta oborony o sanitarnom avtotransporte’, DSV, 1971, vol. 5, p. 421. 52 Alec Nove, An Economic History of the USSR (Pelican, 1972), pp. 227–8. 53 N.Ivanov, Kratkii takticheskii spravochnik, (Moscow, 1936). 54 A.Sella, Journal of Contemporary History, vol. 18, 1983. 55 A.Kotsov, Voenno Istoricheskii zhurnal (henceforth: VIZ), February 1980, p. 50. 56 For the political reasons see Sella, op.cit 57 V.B.Shavrov, Istoria konstruktsii samoletov v SSSR, (Moscow, 1969), pp. 440, 506. 58 Produced by licence since 1938 and later re-designated PS-84 or Li-2. 59 For the reasons see Sella op.cit 60 Smyrnov, op.cit, p. 79; Over 8 per cent of the casualties died as a result of frost bite. 61 ibid., p. 87. 62 ibid., p. 93. 63 ibid., p. 99. 64 See for instance G.Kennan, Russia and the West under Lenin and Stalin, (New York, 1961), J.Erickson, The Soviet High Command, (London, 1984). 65 Smyrnov, op.cit, p. 101 66 Basile Kerblay, Modern Soviet Society, (Pantheon Books, New York, 1983), p. 281.

194 NOTES

67 Komarov, op.cit, pp. 61–2; Smyrnov, op.cit, p. 130, n. 1; F.I.Komarov, VIZ, no. 8, 1988, p. 43. 68 Finansovaya sluzhba vooruzhenykh sil SSSR v period voine (Pod nab. Podpolkovnik Klisheva i red. Gulevitsa), (Moscow, 1967), p. 17l. 69 D.D.Kuvshinskii & A.S.Georgievskii (reds) Ocherki istoria sovetskoi voinnoe meditsiny, (Meditsina, Leningrad, 1968), p. 197. 70 See A.Sella unpublished doctoral thesis ‘Barbarossa’, (University of Edinburgh, 1973). 71 See diagram in D.D.Kuvshinskii et al. (eds), p. 198. 72 ibid., pp. 219, 258. Ocherki istoria sovetskoi voennoi meditsiny, 73 ibid., p. 260. 74 VIZ, no. 11, 1985, p. 75. 75 VIZ no. 9, 1988, p. 39. 76 Finansovaya sluzhba, op.cit., p. 173. 77 Y.I.Smyrnov, op.cit, p. 215. 78 ibid., p. 298.

2 The performance of the Service during the Great Patriotic War 1 D.D.Kuvshinskii & A.S.Georgievskii (eds), Ocherki istoria sovetskoi voennoi meditsiny, p. 223. 2 F.I.Komarov, Voenno meditsinskaya podgotovka, (Moscow, 1984), p. 81. 3 ibid. 4 V.N.Petrov, Voenno Istoricheskii Zhurnal, (VIZ), no. 1, 1987. 5 Komarov, op.cit p. 81. 6 Krasnaya zvezda (KZ), 5 January 1942; Decree of the Presidium of the USSR about award of the Excellent Orderly. 7 Decree no. 281, 23 August 1941, Voenno Meditsinskii zhurnal (henceforth: VMZ), no. 3, 1975. 8 ibid., VMZ, no. 5, 1989, p. 73 has a slightly different version of the decree of CC. 23 August 1941. 9 VMZ, no. 5, 1980, p. 66. 10 M.K.Kuz•min, Mediki geroi sovetskogo soyuza, (Moscow, 1970), p. 7. 11 Komarov, op.cit. pp. 37, 43; Komsomolskaya pravda, 3 August 1941, 2 June 1942; VIZ, no. 3, 1978. 12 VIZ, no. 8, 1988, p. 4; Y.I.Smyrnov, Voina i voennaya meditsina 1939– 1945 gody, (Moscow, 1979), p. 202. 13 VMZ, no. 5, 1990, p. 13. 14 VMZ, no. 5, 1989, p. 73. 15 VMZ. no. 5, 1990, pp. 5–6. 16 Smyrnov, op.cit, pp. 117, 297. 17 M.K.Kuz•min, Sovetskaya meditsina v gody velikoi otechestvennoi voiny, (Moscow, 1979), p. 128.

NOTES 195

18 19 20 21 22 23

24 25 26 27

28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

Komarov, op.cit, p. 39. VMZ. no. 3, 1975. Smyrnov, op.cit, pp. 117–21. VMZ, no. 6, 1990, p. 7. General-Polkovnik D.A.Dragunsky, Gody v brone, (Moscow, 1983), pp. 166–7. It is interesting to compare the Soviet data with Israeli data at the time of the Israeli invasion of Lebanon. The research was carried out by four doctors under the auspices of the air-evacuation unit and the epidemiological unit of the Rambam Medical Centre, Haifa. The sample was of 82 cases (6 June-20 September 1982) who were classified as ‘serious’ or ‘severe’ and were evacuated by air. Out of 188 diagnoses of the above 82 cases, there was a negative correlation between field and hospital diagnosis in 50 cases (26 per cent); 48 injuries were not diagnosed by the field personnel at all and two were diagnoses made in the field and were found in the hospital to have no grounds. N.L.Krylov, Glavnyi voennyi gospital, (Moscow, 1985), p. 64. Komarov, op.cit, p. 94. Komarov, op.cit, p. 93. Smyrnov, op.cit., p. 71; Dragunsky, op.cit, p. 165. During the siege of Leningrad, for instance, only 62 per cent of the wounded arrived at the battalion medical point within six hours after injury, VMZ, No 2., 1976; S.K.Kurkotkin (ed.) Tyl Sovetskikh vooruzhennykh sil v velikoi otechestvenni voine 1941–1945, (Moscow, 1977) p. 320; Babin, (ed.), Na volkhovskom fronte 1941–1944, (Moscow, 1982), p. 274. Foreign Relations of the US (henceforth: FRUS), vol. 1, pp. 849–51, 856– 7. Smyrnov, op.cit, p. 185. VMZ, no. 5, 1990, p. 10. VMZ, no. 6, 1990, p. 7. Finansovaya sluzhba vooruzhennykh sil SSSR v period voinne, (Pod nab. Podpolkovnik Klisheva i red. Gulevitsa), (Moscow, 1967), p. 170. VIZ, no. 8, p. 42. S.K.Kvrkotkin, op.cit, (Moscow, 1977) p. 309. VMZ. no. 6, 1990, p. 7. Kurkotkin, op.cit, p. 306. V.M.Varlamov, VIZ, no. 11, 1985, p. 73 F.I.Komarov, VIZ, no. 8, 1988, p. 46. ibid., p. 43. Kuvshinskii & Georgievskii, op.cit., pp. 206–7. Varlamov, op.cit, p. 74; Smyrnov, op.cit., pp. 314–5. VIZ, no. 1, 1987, p. 90. Kurkotkin, op.cit., p. 311; Varlamov, op.cit. p. 73. Kurkotkin, op.cit, p. 315.

196 NOTES

45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53

54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79

Komarov, op.cit, p. 59. VMZ, no. 5, 1990, p. 6. VMZ, no. 5, 1985, p. 43. American Review of Soviet Medicine, vol. 2, pp. 37–43. ibid., vol. 3, p. 180. Babin, op.cit., p. 276. A.M.Sakharov et al. (eds) Moskovskii universitet, (Moscow, 1975) p. 120. Robert H.Ahrenfeldt, Psychiatry in the British Army in the Second World War, (Routledge & Kegan Paul, London, 1958), ch. 5. A.I.Burnazyan, Bor• ba za zhizn• ranenykh i bol• nykh na Kalininskom 1m Pribaltiiskom fronte (1941–1945), (Meditsina, Moscow, 1982), pp. 216, 220. F.I.Ivanov, Reaktivnye psikhosy v voennoe vremya, (Meditsina, Leningrad, 1970). VMZ, no. 3, 1975. Burnazyan, op.cit, p. 218. N.Rumyantsev, VIZ, no. 11, 1972; See also Burnazyan, op.cit. p. 217. Kuvshinskii & Georgievskii, op.cit. p. 248. ibid. p. 216. ibid., p. 207; VMZ, no. 1, 1976. Smyrnov op.cit, p. 217. VMZ, no. 1, 1976. ibid. General of the Army Batov, V pokhodakh i boyakh, (Moscow, 1974) p. 258 VMZ, no. 5, 1989, pp. 74–5. Alexander Yakovlev, The Aim of a Lifetime, (Progress Publishers, Moscow, 1972), p. 133. VMZ, no. 4, 1975, p. 29. ibid., p. 30; A.N.Babiichuk, Chelovek, nebo, kosmos, (Moscow, 1979), p. 7; Varlamov, op.cit. p. 73. Moskovski universitet v velikoi otechestvennoi voine, p. 113. VIZ, no. 9, 1984, pp. 76–7. ibid. Kurkotkin, op.cit, p. 324. VIZ no. 6, 1977, p. 90. ibid. p. 94; See also A.Geselevich, ‘N.N.Burdenko na fronte’, VIZ, no. 8, 1972; VIZ, no. 12, 1972, p. 43. Finansovaya sluzhba, op.cit., p. 174. Kuvshinskii & Georgievskii, op.cit. p. 208. Babin, op.cit., p. 276. ibid., pp. 91–2; VIZ, no. 12, 1972, p. 43. VIZ, no. 5, 1985, p. 78.

NOTES 197

80 VIZ no. 3, 1973, pp. 59–62; no. 3, 1976, p. 5; no. 6, 1977, p. 92; no. 1, 1976, Smyrnov, op.cit, pp. 197–8, 204. 81 VMZ, no. 5 1980, p. 66. 82 VMZ, no. 3, 1976, p. 91. 83 V.S.Murmantseva, ‘Ratnyi i trudovoi podvig sovetskikh zhenshchin’, VIZ, no. 5, 1985, pp. 73–80. 84 VMZ, no. 3, 1988. 85 Kuvskinskii & Georgievskii, op.cit p. 229. 86 VMZ, no. 2, 1976. 87 Compare Komarov, op.cit, p. 107 with p. 40. 88 VMZ, no. 5, 1990, p. 7. 89 Komarov, op.cit, p. 155. 90 ibid., p. 78. 91 Smyrnov, op.cit., p. 240. 92 See VIZ, no. 10, 1985, for the percentage of casualties of the 14th Army during the Petsamo-Kirkenski operation when 50–60 per cent of all casualties were soldiers who either suffered from dysentery or severe colds. 93 Smyrnov, op.cit, table on p. 256. 94 ibid., p. 245. 95 Army Battle Casualties and Nonbattle Deaths in World War 2, Final Report, 7 December 1941–31 December 1946, prepared by Statistical and Accounting branch, Office of the Adjutant General under direction of programme review and analysis, Division Office of the Comptroller of the Army. (The computation is mine, A.S.) 96 Colonel John Lada, MSC, USA (Editor in chief), Frank A.Reister (Editor for medical statistics), Medical statistics in World War 2, (Office of the Surgeon General, Department of the Army, Washington D.C., 1975), pp. 9–11. 97 VMZ, no. 6, 1990, p. 8 98 ibid. 99 VMZ, no. 6, 1990, p. 9. 100 VMZ, no. 2, 1990, see table on p. 20. 101 VIZ, no. 4,1990, p. 4. 102 ibid., p. 5. 103 Kuvshinskii & Georgievskii, op.cit., p. 209. 104 VIZ, no. 4, 1990, pp. 4, 5. 105 J.Stalin, On the Great Patriotic War, (New York, 1943), p. 11. 106 New York Times, 22 October 1944, Section 6, p. 9. 107 The reference is to the Associated Press, London, 22 June 1944. 108 Smyrnov, op.cit., p. 188. 109 G.A.Deborin & B.S.Telpukhovskii, Itogi i Uroki, (Moscow, 1975), p. 350. 110 VMZ, no. 5, 1990, p. 7.

198 NOTES

111 Quincy Right, A Study of War, (Chicago, 1965), table on p. 1543; Robert Goralski, World War 2, Soviet Union (Hamish Hamilton, London, 1981). 112 German Intelligence Report T-78, Roll 567, Frame 041, as in German and Soviet Replacement Systems in WW2, p. 80. 113 VIZ, No 3, 1990, pp. 14–16. 114 Sovetskaya moldova, 16 October, 1990, p. 4. 115 VIZ, no. 3, 1990, p. 14. 116 Edmund J.Olsen, ‘Soviet Military Medical Support’, The Journal of Soviet Military Studies, vol. 1, no. 3, September 1988, p. 353. 117 ibid., p. 352. 118 Krasnaya zvezda, 17 February 1989, ‘Aspirin, validol i streptodekaza’. 119 The Sustainability of the Soviet Army in Battle, (Soviet Studies Research Centre, RMA Sandhurst, September 1986), p. 288. 120 F.I.Komarov, Voenno meditsinskaya podgotovka, (Moscow, 1989), pp. 390–400. 121 ibid., pp. 291, 399–400; Olsen, op.cit, pp. 346–7. 122 VMZ, no. 4, 1990, p. 9. 123 ibid. Chernobyl•: sobitiya i uroki, (Moscow, 1989), pp. 104, 223. 124 VMZ, no. 4, p. 15. 125 ibid., p. 27–8. 126 The Sustainability of the Soviet Army in Battle, op.cit., p. 404. 127 ibid., p. 412. 128 S.N.Eisenstadt, Modernization: Protest and Change, (Prentice Hall, 1966), p. 148. 129 International Defense Review, no. 5, 1986, p. 622. 130 Medical Lieutenant Colonel Andre Biver, MD ‘Means and Limits of LifeSaving Measures on the Battlefield’, Medical Corps International, no. 4, 1987, p. 8.

3 The Soviet attitude to POWs 1 ‘They must come home!’, New Times, no. 26, Moscow, June 1988. 2 File 711.61, Roll No. 10–13–2 National Archives Washington D.C. (NAR); Izvestia No. 53, 9 March 1923; Izvestia no. 126, 12 June 1923. 3 Allan Rosas, The Legal Status of Prisoners of War, (Helsinki, 1976), p. 62. 4 Jean S.Pictet, Geneva Convention, (International Committee of the Red Cross, Geneva, 1952). 5 Jean S.Pictet, (ed.), 3rd Geneva Convention, (Geneva, 1952), p. 47, n. 1. 6 Florinsky, Russia, vol. 2, (New York, 1967) p. 1261.

NOTES 199

7 Harold Berman & Miroslav Kerner, (eds), Documents on Soviet Military Law and Administration, (Harvard University Press, Cambridge, 1958), p. 92. 8 The Ministry of Defence, Manual of Military Law, Part 1, 1972, Army Act 1955, Part 2, p. 275. 9 The IDF Martial Law, 1955, p. 171. 10 M.Zhdanov, ‘Mezhdunarodno-pravovaya problema voennogo plena v usloviyakh novogo vremeni’, Mezhdunarodnoye pravo, nos 2–3, 1928, p. 46, n. 1. 11 James Wilford Garner, ‘Recent conventions for the regulations of war’, American Journal of International Law, vol.26, no. 4, 1933 pp. 807–11. 12 E.A.Korovin, Mezhdunarodnogo pravo perekhodnogo vremeni, (Moscow, 1924), p. 121. 13 Compare Korovin, ibid., pp. 122–3 with Zhdanov, op.cit, pp. 46–8. 14 ‘Prisoners of War, Conventions between the United States of America and other Powers’, United States Government Printing Office, Treaty Series, No 846, (Washington D.C., 1932), p. 34. 15 NAR file 514.2B1, 1918, ‘Au President du comite central de la croix rouge des Etats Unis’. (Washington 18/11/1918). 16 NAR file 711.61, Roll no. 10–13–2; Izvestia, no. 161, 20 July 1923. 17 Izvestia, no. 161, 20 July 1923. 18 New York Times, 3 May 1932. 19 Michael S.Samsonov, Swiss Neutrality and the USSR, (San Francisco, California, 1953), p. 25. 20 NAR file 711.4, German Prisoners in Russia, Moscow, 1 August 1944, Jerome Davis, Toronto Star. 21 Alexander Dallin, German Rule in Russia, (Macmillan & Co., London, 1957), pp. 30–4; Gerald Reitlinger, The House Built on Sand, (Weidenfeld and Nicholson, London, 1960), pp. 77–85; Streit, Keine Kameraden, (Stuttgart, 1980), pp.354–5; Streim, Die Behandlung sowjetischer Kriegsgefangener, (Heidelberg, 1981), Szymon Datner, Crimes against POWs, (Zachadnia Agencja Prasowa, Warszawa, 1964). 22 D.Karov, Partizanskoye dvizhenie v SSSR v 1941–1945 gg, (Institute po izucheniu istorii i kultury SSSR, Munkhen, 1954)1. Tablitsa rassloeniya naseleniya; Mark Elliott, Pawns of Yalta, p. 166. 23 Politisches Archiv, Auswartiges Amt, Buro des Staatssekretar, Akten betreffend: Russland RAM—364/R Sonderzug, den 25 August 1941. 24 J.F.C.Fuller, The Decisive Battles of the Western World 1792–1944, (Paladin, London, 1970), ch. 9 The Battle of Moscow’; John Erickson, The Road to Stalingrad, (Harper and Row, London, 1975), ch. 4; V.A. Rzheshevskii (ed.) et. al., Velikaya otechestvennaya voina 1941–1945, Sobytiya. Lyudi. Dokumenty, (Moscow, 1990), pp. 32–58. 25 NAR File 711.4 A telegram was sent by Kennan in Moscow to the Secretary of State, 16 August 1945, that is exactly four years after the

200 NOTES

26 27 28 29 30 31 32

33 34 35 36 37 38

39 40 41 42 43 44 45

46 47 48 49 50 51

original document was promulgated. It reads: ‘Examination of Soviet press for that period does not indicate that any such decree was published at that time.’ VIZ, no. 9,1988, pp. 26–3. Nedelya, no. 8 (1560), 1990. Streim, op.cit, p. 128. Das Deutsche Reich und der Zweite Weltkrieg, Der Angriff auf die Sowjetunion, (Stuttgart, 1983), p. 727. Nedelya, no. 8 (1560), 1990, p. 10. Dallin, op.cit, p. 427 I.I.Kuznetsov, ‘Generaly 1940 goda’, VIZ, no. 10, 1988, pp. 31–2; Lieutenant-General M.A.Lukin, ‘My ne sdaemtsia tovarishch general’, Ogonek, November 1964, p. 27. VIZ, no. 9, 1988, pp. 29, 30. Reitlinger, op.cit, p. 87. VIZ, no. 11, 1988, pp. 62–70. Don. no. 6, 1989, p. 68. M.A.Belousov, Ob etom ne soobschalos, (Moscow, 1978), p. 68. VIZ, no. 9, p. 66. This happened on 5 July 1941 and is quoted as an act of great bravery by Koniev when he was still a Lieutenant-General. It is noteworthy however that on 7 October 1941 Stalin was prepared to bring Koniev in front of a martial court. See VIZ. no. 10, 1987. p. 56. VIZ, no. 9, 1987, p. 66. Y.I.Smyrnov, Voina i voennaya meditsina 1939–1945 gody, (Moscow, 1979), p. 249. I.Kh.Bagramyan, Tak shli my k pobede, (Moscow, 1977), p. 50. NAR File 711.4–800B, Secretary of State, Washington, 27 August 1943. R.Nazarevich, ‘Sovetskii voennoplennie v polshe’, Voprosi istorii, no. 3, 1989. A.I.Eremenko, Gody vozmezdia, (Kiev, 1986), pp. 64, 119, 140, 141. R.Nazarevich, ‘Sovetskie voennoplennie v polshe’ Voprosi istorii, no. 3, 1989. This article is particularly important for its substantive German and Polish archive material and for its statistics. See for instance pp. 36–39. It is also important to note that a chapter by the same author in a book entitled: Ocherki istorii pol• sko-sovetskikh otneshenia, (Moscow, 1979) bears all the marks of the old style of writing about the war and does not carry either archive material or statistics. Eremenko, op.cit., p. 14. Yu.I.Zavotskii, (Moscow, 1974), VIZ, no. 10, 1986, p. 76. P.I.Batov, V pokhodakh i boyakh, p. 209. Smyrnov, op.cit, pp. 249–50; F.I.Komarov, VIZ, no. 8, 1988, p. 49. NAR, file 740.00114, The Charge’ in the Soviet Union (Thurston) to the Secretary of State, Kuibyshev, 27 November 1941. S.S.Biriuzov, Surovie gody, p. 33; Batov, op.cit, p. 88.

NOTES 201

52 Report of the International Committee of the Red Cross on its activities during the Second World War, (1 September 1939–30 June 1947), vol. 1, Geneva Activities, (Geneva, May 1948) (henceforward: Report ICRC). 53 The Russian Section of the ICRC kept up a certain activity due to the fact that the Rumanian Government continued to send lists of Soviet POWs. The Rumanians reported 75,000 names, probably the full number of Soviet POWs. 3,000 names were sent in by the Finnish authorities, 914 by the Italians, 348 by the Germans and 250 by the Hungarians. Report ICRC, vol. 2, p. 254. 54 Report ICRC, vol. 1, pp. 409–15: Molotov to Huber, 27 June 1941; Molotov, 6 July 1941; Vyshinski to Huber, 8 August 1941; A.Gegalova, 13 August 1941; See also Foreign Relations of the US (henceforward: FRUS), vol. 1, p. 1005, the Ambassador in the Soviet Union (Steinhardt to the Secretary of State, Washington, DC, 9 August 1941.) 55 FRUS, vol. 1, 26 August 1941, p. 1006. 56 FRUS, vol. 1, 24 October, 1941, p. 1008. 57 Pictet, op.cit, p. 756. 58 FRUS, vol. 1, November 1941, p. 1009. 59 FRUS, vol. 1, 14 November 1941, p. 1010. 60 George Ginsburg, ‘Laws of War and War Crimes on the Russian Front During World War 2: The Soviet View’, Soviet Studies, no. 11, 1960, p. 270. 61 Compare Pictet, (Harmondsworth, Penguin, 1979), op.cit. p. 681 with S.E.Finer, Five Constitutions, pp. 138–9; For the text of Vyshinski’s note see FRUS, vol. 1, 26 November 1941, pp. 1014–15. 62 FRUS, vol. 3, 29 May 1942, p. 567. 63 NAR, file 711.4, 5 February 1943. 64 Ginsburg, op. cit, p. 263–9. 65 FRUS. vol. 4, 1944, p. 1241. 66 ibid. 67 ibid., p. 1243. 68 ibid., pp. 1247–49. A message from Hull (Secretary of State) to Harriman (Ambassador in the USSR), 5 September 1944. 69 NAR file 711.4–711.6. There is no date. The message signed by Gromyko was sent to the Soviet Embassy in Washington on 1 February 1945. 70 ibid. 71 FRUS, The Malta and Yalta Conferences, Harriman to the Secretary of State, 10 January 1945, pp. 450, 451. 72 Lukin, op.cit, p. 28. 73 NAR file 711.4–711.6, Byrnes’ telegram to the American Embassy in Moscow, 11 August 1945. 74 VIZ, no. 9, 1988, p. 23.

202 NOTES

75 ibid., p. 25. See also Martin Middlebrook, The First Day on the Somme, (Allen Lane/Penguin, London, 1971), p. 252, ‘No doubt some of the prisoners felt ashamed and despondent but, in view of the fearful casualties suffered later in the war, many would say that these prisoners were the luckiest of all.’ 76 ibid. 77 Rebecca West, The Meaning of Treason, (Penguin Books, 1965), pp. 11– 147. 78 John Barnes and David Nicholson (eds), The Leo Amery Diaries 1929– 1945, The Empire at Bay, (Hutchinson, London, 1988), p. 1071, Apppendix. 79 A.E.Babin (ed.), Na volkhovskom fronte 1941–1944 gg, (Nauka, Moscow, 1982), pp. 5, 36. 80 I.S.Katyshkin, Sluzhili my v shtabe armeiskom, (Moscow, 1979), pp. 6– 45. 81 Major K.Tokarev, veteran of the Second Shock Army, ‘Prigovor’, Komsomolskaya pravda, 3 March 1988. 82 Don, no. 6, 1989, p. 63. 83 NAR file 711–711.6, 1945. 84 ibid. 85 F.I.Kozhevnikov, Kurs mezhdunaronogo prava, (Moscow, 1972), p. 370. 86 New Times, no. 26, 1988.

4 Fighting at all costs 1 A.H.Farrar-Hockley, Ypres 1914, (Pan Books, London, 1967), p. 191. 2 Paul Fussell, The Great War and Modern Memory, (Oxford University Press, 1975), pp. 21–2. 3 Martin Middlebrook, The First Day on the Somme, (Allen Lane/Penguin, London, 1971), p. 300; VIZ, no. 10, 1988, ‘Ovospitanii i obuchenii v russkoi armii’. 4 Christopher Donnelly, Red Banner, (Jane’s Information Group, 1988), p. 82, In all it is reckoned that over 230 generals or admirals were executed or condemned to serve as private soldiers in penal battalions during the four years of war. 5 Vyacheslav Kondrat•ev, ‘Parii voiny’, Literaturnaya gazeta, no. 5, January 1990. 6 Middlebrook, op.cit, p. 299. See also pp. 294–5 for a description of an execution and the reasons given for the deed. 7 Siegfried Sassoon, Memoirs of an Infantry Officer, (Faber & Faber, London, 1971) pp. 32, 85; See also Slovar Brokgauza—Efrona, p. 860, ‘The national spirit of the Army embodies this gigantic capital of moral

NOTES 203

8

9 10

11 12

13 14

15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30

powers that great Generals are capable of using so skilfully if they are also great psychologists.’ Slovar Brokgauza—Efrona, op.cit., p. 860; M.H.Tukhachevskii, Izbrannyie proizvedeniya, (Moscow, 1964) vol. 1, p. 96; Barabouschikov, (ed.) Voennaya pedagogika, (Moscow, 1966), pp. 25, 28. Voennaya pedagogika p. 25. Interesting in that respect is a passage quoted in one of Lenin’s books from Napoleon’s book see Voenno Istoricheskii zhurnal, (VIZ), no. 1, 1980, pp. 6, 7. Max Weber, Economy and Society, (University of California Press, Los Angeles, 1978), p. 1149. VIZ, no. 7, 1988, p. 83; flogging was abolished by the American Congress in 1850, see Commander Edward M.Byrne, US Navy Military Law (Second edition), (Naval Institute Press, Anapolis, Maryland, 1976), p. 5; in the British Army flogging in time of peace was abolished in 1868, and in time of war in 1880, see: Correlli Barnett, Britain and Her Army 1509–1970, (Harmondsworth, Penguin, 1974), plate 13. John Erickson, The Soviet High Command, (A Westview Encore Reprint, 1984), pp. 5–10. Lenin, Sobranie sochineniy, vol. 20, pp. 121, 139, where Lenin suggests the establishment of a militia instead of a standing Army. See also L. Schapiro, The Origin of the Communist Autocracy, (Frederick A. Praeger, New York, 1965), p. 235. D.Fedotoff-White, The Growth of the Red Army, (Princeton, 1944) p. 39. ibid., p. 34. ibid., p. 74; L.Schapiro, op.cit., p. 240, n. 14. Entsiklopedia Grazhdanskaya voina i voennaya interventsia v SSSR, (M. 1983) pp. 175–6. Fedotoff-White, op.cit, p. 34. A.M.Vasilevskii, Delo vsei zhizni, (Moscow, 1974), p. 60. A.M.Samsonav et al. (eds), Istoricheskie zapiski, no. 105, (Isd. Nauka, Moscow, 1980), p. 250. VIZ, no. 6, 1988, p. 45. VIZ, no. 7, 1988, p. 85. VIZ, no. 12, 1984, pp. 31–2. Tukhachevsky was not consistent in his appraisal of the Czarist military legacy. Tukhachevskii, op.cit, vol. 2, p. 174. ibid., vol. 1, p. 93; Barabouschikov, op.cit. p. 36. T.F.Karyaeva et al. (eds), Vsearmeiskie soveshchaniya politrabotnikov 1918–1940, (Nauka, Moscow, 1984), p. 186. Tukhachevskii, op.cit, vol. 2, p. 46. VIZ, no. 12, 1984, p. 31.

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31 32 33 34 35 36 37

38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61

62 63

ibid. T.T.Paterson, Morale in War and Work, (Max Parish, London, 1955). VIZ, no. 1, 1980, pp. 6, 7. VIZ, no. 2, 1987, pp. 33–4. VIZ, no. 3, 1973, pp. 87–8. VIZ, no. 5, 1973, p. 7. VIZ no. 9, 1985, p. 72. During the Great Patriotic War, M.I.Kalinin alluded to General Dragomirov’s contribution towards victory through his works in the field of morale building. VIZ; no. 3, 1973, pp. 76–7. P.N.Lashchenko, Iskusstvo voenachal• nika, (Moscow, 1986), p. 86. Vsearmeiskie, op.cit, p. 248. Ellen Jones, Red Army and Society, (Allen & Unwin, Boston, 1985), p. 181. Susan L.Curran & Dmitry Ponomareff, Managing the Ethnic Factor in the Russian and Soviet Armed Forces, (Rand, 1982), p. 19. Dragunskii et al. (eds), Polevaya akademiya, (Moscow, 1983), p. 78. Vsearmeiskie, op.cit, p. 76. ibid., p. 77. ibid., p. 303. Schapiro, op.cit., ch. 13. S.Enders Wimbush, (ed.) Soviet Nationalities in Strategic Perspective, (St. Martin’s Press, New York, 1985), p. 227. Vsearmeiskie op.cit, p. 170. ibid., pp. 141, 165. VIZ, no. 9, 1987, p. 9. Barabouschikov, op.cit., p. 41. VIZ, no. 6. 1988, p. 43. H.Berman & M.Kerner (eds), Documents on Soviet Military Law and Administration, (Harvard University Press, Cambridge, 1958), pp. 51–2. ibid., p. 74 Appendix 2 885, Art. 85 Desertion. Edward F.Sherman, ‘Justice in the Military’, in James Finn (ed.) Conscience and Command, (New York, 1971), p. 33. E.M.Byrne, op.cit., p. 72. Sherman, op.cit., p. 27. Robert H.Ahrenfeldt, Psychiatry in the British Army in the Second World War, (Routledge & Kegan Paul, London, 1958), p. 117. J.Stalin, On the Great Patriotic War of the Soviet Union, (Speech at Celebration Meeting of the Moscow Soviet of Working People Deputies and Moscow Party and Public Organizations, 6 November 1941), p. 17. Don, no. 6, 1989, p. 19. Na volkhovskom fronte 1941–1944, (Akademia nauk SSSR, Moscow, 1982), pp. 341–56. Quite a few of the commanders were killed or

NOTES 205

64

65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75

76 77 78

79 80 81 82 83

84 85

wounded in action; See also J.Erickson, The Road to Stalingrad, (Harper and Row, London, 1975), p. 193. T.Ben Moshe, ‘Churchill: Strategy and History’, unpublished doctoral thesis at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, N.246 28 April 1941 WSC: Directive Prim 3/296/2. Churchill orders that Egypt must be held at all cost: ‘Units must go on fighting until the rate of casualties is 50 per cent’. VIZ no. 7, 1985, pp. 59–60. VIZ, no. 2, 1987, pp. 34–5. VIZ, no. 9, 1987, p. 65. ibid., p. 64. D.Ortenberg, Iune-dekabr• sorok pervogo, (Sovetskii pisatel•, Moscow, 1984), p. 209. VIZ, no. 9, 1985, p. 56; See also Alexander Werth, Russia at War 1941– 1945, (Pan Books, London, 1964), pp. 225–33. VIZ, no. 9, 1985, p. 29. VIZ, no. 2, 1985, p. 5 (Regiment 1075, Division 316 under the command of General-Major Panfilov). VIZ, no. 12, 1981, p. 70. VIZ, no. 7, 1987, p. 5; Kh. Bagramyan, Tak shli my k pobede, (Moscow, 1977), pp. 14, 154. I.S.Katyshkin, Sluzhili mi v shtaba armeiskom, (Moscow, 1979), pp. 33– 4. A comparison of the above book with Na volkhovskom fronte, op.cit., p. 153 produces some inconsistencies about dates of nomination and replacement of commanders. VMZ, no. 5, 1980, p. 66. A.K.Babadzhanyan, Dorogi pobedy, (Moscow, 1972), pp. 34, 51; I.S.Katyshkin, op.cit., p. 24; Eremenko, Gody vozmezdiya, pp. 12–13, 51. VIZ, no. 7, 1979, p. 81; Geroicheskaya oborona, Sbornik vospominanie ob oborne Brestskoi kreposti v iune—iule 1941 g. (Gosizdat, Minsk, 1963), p. 21. F.P.Polynin, Boevye marshruty, (Moscow, 1972), p. 88. Alexander Yakovlev, The Aim of a Life Time, (Progress, Moscow, 1972) pp. 136, 150. Erickson, op.cit., pp. 340–2; D.A.Volkogonov, Triumph i tragediya, (Moscow, 1985), pp. 294–5. Volkogonov, op.cit., p. 292. V.T.Amskov et al., Sovetskii tyl v period korennogo pereloma v Velikoi Otechestvennoi Voine, November 1942–1943, (Nauka, Moscow, 1989), p. 12. Yakovlev, op.cit, p. 166. Alexander Werth, The Year of Stalingrad, (Alfred A.Knopf, New York, 1947), ch. 4.

206 NOTES

86 ibid. See in particular p. 56 for the state of mind of the civilian population and p. 62 for a glimpse of the soldier’s mind. For the theoretical background see Anthony Kellett, Combat Motivation, (Kluwer-Nijhoff Publishing, Boston, 1982), p. 328. 87 Volkogonov, op.cit., p. 284. A reference to an order of the Stavka no. 170 (31 July 1942) to the Command and the staff of the Stalingrad Front to form zagreditel•nykh otryadov. One wonders if they are the same otryadi zagrazhdenie? 88 Stalin’s conclusions were correct although he underestimated the losses. See Savetskii tyl, November 1942–1943, op.cit, p. 12. 89 General Heinz Guderian, Panzer Leader (Michael Joseph, London, 1970), pp. 264–8; David Irving, Hitler’s War, (Hodder & Stoughton, London, 1977), p. 359; Generaloberst Halder, Kriegstagebuch, (W. Kohlhammer Verlag, Stuttgart, 1964), pp. 356–7, note in particular: Feind nicht uberlegen’, pp. 362–3. 90 I.T.Korovnikov, et al., Na trekh frontakh, (Moscow, 1974), p. 45; VIZ, no. 8, 1988, pp. 76–8. 91 VIZ, no. 8, 1988, pp. 79–80. 92 ibid., p. 80. 93 Vyacheslav Kondryat•ev, ‘Parii voiny’, Literaturnaya gazeta, no. 5, January 1990; see also VIZ, no. 10, 7 March 1990. This letter to the editor may be considered a semi-official reply of the Soviet High Command to the accusations of Vyacheslav Kondrat•ev. It is noteworthy that the article was written by a sergeant and the reply was signed by eight marshals, eight generals of the Army and three admirals. 94 Werth, op.cit, pp. 394–404. 95 VIZ, no. 9, 1987, pp. 4–5. 96 VIZ no. 7, 1987, p. 6. 97 VIZ, no. 3, 1973, p. 79. 98 VIZ, no. 1, 1980, p. 6. 99 VIZ, no. 9, 1987, p. 8; I.M.Anan•ev, Tankovie armii v Nastuplenii, (Moscow, 1988), p. 240. 100 VIZ, no. 2, 1987, pp. 86–7; VIZ, no. 9, 1985, p. 56; See the difficulties among submarine crews during the first months of the war. 101 A.N.Babiichuk, Chelovek, nebo, kosmos, (Moscow, 1979), p. 8. 102 G.I.Berdnikov, Pervaya udarnaya, (Moscow, 1985), p. 28. 103 VMZ, no. 3, 1975. 104 M.K.Kus•min, Sovetskaya meditsina v gody velikoi otechestvennoi voiny, (Moscow, 1979), p. 132. 105 Stalin’s correspondence with Roosevelt and Truman, (New York, 1965), pp. 52–3, (no. 71). 106 VIZ; no. 1, 1984, pp. 23, 24, 26; I.T.Korovnikov, et al., op.cit., p. 11, see the preparations of Army 59 on the Volkhov Front 107 VIZ, no. 8, 1985, p. 55.

NOTES 207

108 109 110 111

112

113

114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129

VIZ no. 1, 1984, pp. 28–9. VIZ, no. 12, 1981, pp. 66–7; VIZ, no. 7, 1985, pp. 59–63. M.Gorbachev, Izbranie rechi i stat• i, (Moscow, 1985,), p. 49. Erickson, op.cit, pp. 189–90. See Katyshkin, op.cit, p. 24 for a story about a commander who cried: ‘follow me’ and was killed in action (end of January 1942). VIZ, no. 9, 1987. pp. 66–7. Interesting in particular is the case of Koniev, who stopped fleeing soldiers by mere personality in July (5 July 1941) and whom Stalin wanted to court-martial in October (7 October 1941), see VIZ, no. 10, 1987, p. 57. Erickson, op.cit, p. 303, claims that Stalin never visited the Front Eremenko, op.cit., 32–5 has an account of a one day visit to Khoroshevo Front (1 August, 1943). See also 800. Soviet Union 1943:711.4–800B, NAR, Memorandum of Conversation, 2 August 1943—Mr Molotov, The American Ambassador, Mr Page: Mr Molotov stated that Marshal Stalin would return from the front about 8 August See also Stalin’s correspondence with Roosevelt and Truman, p. 73 (no. 101) In a letter to Roosevelt (8 August 1943): ‘I can answer your latest message—that of July 16—now that I am back from the front.’ Don, no. 6, 1989, p. 39. Anthony Kellett, Combat Motivation, (Nijhoff Publishing, Kluwer, 1982) p. 330. K.K.Rokossvskii, Soldatskii dolg, (Moscow, 1972), pp. 253–7. N.G.Kuznetsov, Kursom k pobede, (Moscow, 1975), pp. 127–44. VIZ, no. 1, 1984, p. 7; no. 2, 1985, p. 6. Kellett, op.cit, p. 320. VIZ no. 6, 1988, p. 42. VIZ, no. 2, 1985, pp. 9–10. VIZ, no. 1, 1984, p. 27; Curran & Dmitry, op.cit Bagramyan, op.cit., p. 599. Sergei A.Karaganov, ‘The year of Europe: A Soviet view’, Survival, no. 2, March-April 1990, p. 122. ‘Kakaya armiya nam nuzhna?’, Ogonek, September 1989, p. 31. Karaganov, op.cit., p. 127 Nato declaration, 6 July 1990, at the end of a two-day meeting in London. K.I.Savinov, Varshavskii dogovor, (Moscow, 1986), p. 225. VIZ, no. 7, 1987, p. 7.

5 Conclusion: the value of human life in Soviet warfare 1 S.Amosov, ‘Tanki v operatsii proryva’, Voprosy strategy i operativnogo iskusstva v sovetskikh voennykh trudakh 1917–1940 gg, (Moscow, 1965), p. 426.

208 NOTES

2 P.N.Bobylev, V.P.Bokasev and M.E.Monin, Sovetskie vooruzhennye sily, (Moscow, 1978), pp. 229–30. 3 V.Triandafillov, Kharakter operatsii sovremennykh armii, (Moscow, 1936), pp. 123–67. 4 G.S.Isserson, Voprosy strategy i operativnogo iskusstva v sovetskikh voennykh trudakh 1917–1940, (Moscow, 1965), p. 426. 5 A.E.Radzievskii, Tankovyi udar, (Moscow, 1977), p. 8; P.A.Rotmistrov, Vremya i tanki, (Moscow, 1972), p. 75; V.A.Anfilov, Besmertnyi podvig, (Moscow, 1971), pp. 105–7. 6 B.N.Petrov, Voenno Istoricheskii shurnal VIZ, no. 1, p. 13. 7 I.Anan•ev, VIZ, no. 10, 1972, p. 39. 8 A.Radzievskii, VIZ, no. 3, 1973, p. 17, n. 18; See also the case of the 2nd and 3rd Guards Tank Armies during the Orlov operation in July-August 1943, VIZ, 10, 1972, p. 45; IVOV, Vol 3, p. 247. We now know that during the war the armoured forces lost 73.3 per cent of all tanks and selfpropelled guns that were fielded during the war, see VIZ, no. 3, 1990, p. 15. 9 IVOV, vol. 3, p. 276. 10 VIZ, no. 3, 1973, p. 15. 11 VIZ, ibid., p. 16 12 VIZ, ibid., p. 18. 13 M.N.Tukhachevskii, Izbrannie proizvedeniya, (Moscow, 1964), p. 246. 14 See C.N.Donnelly et al., The Sustainability of the Soviet Army in Battle’, September 1986; H.F.Stoeckli, ‘Soviet Tactical Planning, Organizing the Attack at Battalion Level’, January 1987, Soviet Studies Research Centre, RMA Sandhurst. 15 VIZ, no. 9, 1987, p. 8.

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ARTICLES (Russian—selection) Butkov, P.P. (1988) VIZ, no. 9. Chernusov, V.A. (1990) VMZ, no. 4 Dratsko, V.F. (1976) VMZ, no. 3. Ermakov, M. (1984) VIZ, no. 9 Fedotov, V. (1977) VIZ, no. 6 ——(1976) VMZ, no. 10. (No author) (1985) ‘Nekotorie voprosy meditsinskogo obespecheniya voisk v tretem periode velikoi otechestvennoi voiny’, VIZ, no. 11.

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ARTICLES (English, Hebrew) Barthes, C. (1987) Medical Corps International, no. 4. Bar-Yaacov, N. (1985) Israel Law Review, vol. 20, nos. 2–3. Bayles, M.D. (1978) Ethics, 89. Biver, A. (1987) Medical Corps International, no. 4. Davis, C. (1983) Soviet Studies, vol. 35, no. 3, July. Dolev, E. and Danon, Y.L. (1987) Medical Corps, IDF.

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DOCUMENTS Foreign Relations of the United States. Dekrety Sovetskoi Vlasti. National Archives Washington D.C.: 1927, 514.2D1/38; 1918, 514. 2B1; 1941, 740.00114; 1943, 711.4–800B; 1944, 711.4–711.9; 1945, 711.4–711.6; 1945 711.61, Roll no. 10–13–2. Politisches Archiv, Auswartiges Amt, Politische Abteilung Akten, Russland, vom 7 Juli 1941 bis 30 September, 1941; vom 1 Oktober 1941 bis 28 Februar 1942; Pol 13, 17, vom Jan.1942 bis Feb. 1942; Pol 13, vom Apr.-1942 bis Mai-1942. Auf Grund personlicher Unterredung vom 16.9.41 mit Houtmann Dr. clemens, Gruppenleiter der Gruppe iii, Abt. Kriegsgef., AWA, O.K.W.; Anlage zu tagebuch-Nr.3058/41g. vom 8.9.41; Der Kommandierende General der Sicherungstruppen und befehlshaber im Heeresgebiet Mitte, RH 22/231. NEWSPAPERS Krasnaya zvezda Sovetskaya moldova Izvestia

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Komsomolskaya pravda Novosti nedeli New York Times Toronto Star (Note Glossary: VIZ-Voenno istoricheskii jhurnal; VMZ-Voenno meditsinskii jhurnal; KVS-Kommunist vooruzhennykh sil.)

218

Index

absence without leave 144 Academy of Medical Science 156 Academy for Military Medicine 36 accusations 117 ACMs (Advanced Conventional Munitions) 175 admirals 161 Afghanistan 164, 166; military success and political failure 82; POWs ix, x, 82, 87, 122, 124–30 agents 110 aid points 4, 15 Air Force 54–9, 139, 154, 156; ethos of ‘fighting at all cost’ 149– 6 air raids 13, 154 air supremacy 15, 39, 75, 149, 182 aircraft 175, 179; ambulances 52, 53; designers 52, 56; evacuation 15, 18, 21, 51; German 50; scarcity 75 Akhutin, Professor 148 Akimenko, General 148 Albania 171 All-Arms armies 27, 31, 161, 179 All-Army conference (1917) 130 allegiance 119, 132 alliances 170, 174, 176 Allied Expeditionary Force 113

ambulances 4, 16, 25, 50, 79, 81; air 52, 53; companies 43; motor 74; trains 51 amnesty 125 Amnesty International 125 Amosov, S. 179 amputations 47 annexation 112 Annual Book of the League of Nations 65 anti-epidemic units 11, 27, 77 anti-aircraft defence 59, 60 anti-military policy 73 anxiety 96, 102, 130, 146, 163 apathy 96 apprehension 104, 121 arbitrary lawlessness viii Arkhangelsk 37 Armenia 80, 81, 166 armistice 16 armoured forces 13, 19, 27; see also tanks Asia: Central 140; Southeast 177 Associated Press 113 asylum 114 atavistic cultural codes 22 atheism 22 atomic bomb 123, 173

219

220 INDEX

atrocities 72, 109, 120, 124 attacks 31, 121; against Finland 93; head-on 162; nuclear 80; see also surprise attack attitude viii, x, 1, 5, 70, 178; bestial 93; to cost of fighting 162–74; to mental patients 4; moralistic 69; to POWs vii, ix, 85–125, 178; reckless 82, 188; utilitarian xi ATTU (Atlantic to Ural Zone) 175 Australia 123 autarky 177 authoritarian regimes 188 autonomy 164, 168, 169 awards 75; see also citations; decorations; medals bacteriological warfare 123 bad command 163 Bain-Tumensk 13, 15 balance of terror 79–5 Baltic States 83, 112, 162, 171 bandages 4, 78 Baranov, Dr M.I. 36, 73 Bamwell, Brigadier-General 114 Barsukov, Dr M.I. 7 bath-houses 8 battle fatigue 55, 56, 154, 156–3, 163 beds 15, 32, 41, 43, 49; number of 17, 17, 37, 39–2, 44, 60; specially assigned 60 behaviour 127, 138, 185–5; disordered 47, 48; exemplary x, 97 Belgium 123 belligerents vii, 91, 104, 107 Belorussia see Byelorussia

bereavement 23, 69 Berlin 45, 67, 105, 177 Bern 114 betrayal 116 blitzkrieg 95 blood 38; donors 57–1; transfusions 59, 63, 84 blunders 70, 117 Bolshevik slogans 130 bomber crews 56 Bonch Bruyevich, M.D. 9, 138, 139 Bonn 172 Border Guards 67 boredom 128 bravery 186 Brest 148 Brezhnev, L.I. 66, 69, 165, 171, 174 Briansk 45, 99 Britain see Great Britain brutality viii, 111, 143, 188 Budapest 166 Budenny, S.M. 98, 100, 180 budgets 78 Bulgaria 174 bullying 189 Burckhardt, C. 105 Burdenko, N.N. 2 bureaucracy 71 burial 22, 23, 65 Byelorussia 45, 53, 142, 168, 180 camouflage 54 camps 115; German 103, 104, 105, 108, 109; reciprocal inspection 109; Swiss 114 Canada 172 cars 11, 15 casualties ix-x, 5, 29, 127, 188; Afghanistan 82, 124; Civil War 10; distinction between injuries 4; see also fatalities;

INDEX 221

Great Patriotic War casualties; wounded; wounded and ill catastrophes 80, 81, 82, 96, 172 Caucasus 10, 150 censorship 69 Central Air Force Hospital 55 Central Committee 34, 57, 58, 132 Central Institute for Work 135 Central Provisional Commission 131 CFE (conventional forces in Europe) agreement 172, 173–4 chain of command 23, 29 chauvinism 187 chemical units 80 chemical warfare 24 chemists 2, 9 Chernobyl 80 child care 83 China 122, 123, 176 Chita 15, 16 cholera 9 Christians xi, 2, 4 Church xi, 22, 37, 154 citations 34, 42, 75, 76, 158 citizenship 113, 114, 115, 116, 123; idea of 112; interpretation 111 civil defence 80, 81 Civil War 7, 71, 72, 74, 100; casualties 10; citations 161; end 133; good will of local forces 140; harsh conditions 135; lack of education at the time of 131; morale and discipline 136; officer enlistment 8; psychiatric departments 5; use of Geneva Convention 6 civilian internees 122, 123 class: consciousness 132; policy 141

cleanliness 9 climatic conditions 50, 60, 75 clubs 136, 158 clumsy stitches 63 coercion 185 cohesiveness 139–7, 147, 164, 170, 187 Cold War 94, 123, 124, 166, 175; allies and potential enemies 111; ‘delicate balance of terror’ 79–5; roots 115–3 collaborators 118, 120, 123 collective glory 23 collectivization 10, 94, 101 coma cases 63 commanders 76, 96–1, 99–4, 101–7, 104, 121, 162; discipline 146, 153, 162, 163; education 137, 138; elected by soldiers 131; executions 147; junior 152, 159, 160; military authority divided between commissars and 136; mistakes 120; morale 156, 157, 158; non-Party 134; non-Slavic 142; recruitment 143 Commissariats: Education 132; Health 7, 9, 10, 57 commissars 94, 97, 134, 147, 154, 159; all-Russian Bureau 131, 136; Councils 93, 96; Defence 24, 34, 47, 51, 62, 64, 65; Military Affairs 132; River Fleet 52; People 96; Red Army relations with 158; Trains 51 committees: All-Russian Help 59;

222 INDEX

Culture Enlightenment 136; Provincial Executive 96; release of POWs 125; Revolutionary Military 10 Common Market 177 communications 82, 153, 179; breakdowns 95–96, 146, 159; complicated 74; extended 102; German 104; poor 94 Communism 114, 115, 165, 166, 175 Communist Party 58, 96, 139, 167, 178, 180; achievements 155; active in hospitals 42; call for nursing volunteers 36, 37, 59; Central Committee 34, 57, 58, 132; confidence in non-Party commanders 134; dispute 133; education through art and literature 136, 137; elite 10; hard core, in army 131; imposition of government 130; percentage of ranks joining 141; procedure for joining 157; proclamation on Red Army heroism 97; public opinion inside 100; Soviet health 7; spiritual support for soldiers 158; Trotsky and 8; units not in line with ideology 140 compassion 2, 69–4, 71, 88, 111, 187– 7 comradeship 140, 158, 186, 188 conduct 105, 111, 127, 145 confiscation of property 131 conscientious objection vii contagious diseases 60, 61, 104

contusion 47 convalescence 10, 42, 57, 103 conventional forces in Europe 172, 173–4 conventions 110, 122; see also Geneva Commissions; Hague Conventions cordon sanitaire 19, 166 cost of victory see price of victory cost-effectiveness vii, ix Council of Medical Departments 7 counter-attacks 95, 98 courage 155, 156, 158, 159, 186 courses 36, 37, 58 courts martial 48, 89, 118, 144–50, 148 cowardice 116, 127, 147, 152, 155, 187; severe orders against 117 Crimea 2–4, 10, 99, 150 cruelty 188 cruise missiles 165 CSBM (Confidence- and SecurityBuilding Measures) 174, 175, 176 CSCE (Council for Security and Cooperation in Europe) 172 Czarist regime xi, 146; army 130, 134; disciplinary code 133; Government 85; Imperial Army 129; legacy 179 Czars: Alexander II 88; Fedor 1; Michael 1; Nikolai 3; Peter the Great 1, 161 death 22–5, 73, 115, 155, 162, 185; contempt for 129, 158; by disease 61, 62; POWs 105, 124; questions of life and viii;

INDEX 223

by wrong diagnosis 63 death penalty 89, 91, 127–3, 144, 145, 147 decorations 58, 59, 76 dedovshchina 189 deer 51 defeats 102, 132, 150, 163, 186 Defence Council 8, 9 demotion 97 Denikin, General A.I. 8 dentists 9, 39 deportations 104 desertion 96, 99, 131, 144–50, 147; rationale of fighting armies and 186, 187 destruction 111 deterrence x, 165, 166, 170, 175, 176 diagnosis 25, 38, 41, 42, 49; wrong 17, 20, 63 diet 91 disciplinary codes 19, 89, 97, 168, 172, 178; harsh 144, 162; new 178; persuasive 133; provisional 132; ‘Red soldier’s book’ 132 discipline vii, 125–2, 129–5, 185, 186, 187; contemporary 164–4; deterioration 99; through education 130–51; harsh x, 89; medical methods 46; morale and 146–70 discomfort 128 disease 76, 77; contagious 60, 61, 104; death as a result of 62; epidemic 27, 60–6; infectious 39, 43, 60, 61; treatment 36 disgrace 117 disinfection 22, 27, 46, 54

disloyalty 187 disorders 47, 48, 49, 145 division of labours 5, 164 divisive forces 161–8 Dnieper 40 doctors 26, 27, 34, 39, 71, 84; assistant 20, 34, 36, 37, 59, 60; battalion 16, 20, 21–4; casualties among 64; civilian 46; Court 3; crash programme to create more 10; evacuation station 63; general practitioners 35; idle 41; junior 36; medical 2, 9, 36, 73; military xi, 1, 17, 36; number of 46; reservist 17; women 59; would-be 36; see also surgeons doctrines 46–9, 98, 147, 181–90, 184, 185; Brezhnev 165, 171, 174 dogs and deer 51 Dostoevsky, F.M. 137 draftees 170 Dragomirov, General 138, 139 drunkenness 140 duty 155, 156, 166, 170 Dvina 52 EC (European Community) 169 economic aid 177 economic structure 167 economy 83, 104, 177 education 128, 129, 146, 164, 172, 185; disciplinary 143; lack of 131; level of 140;

224 INDEX

medical 10; military 133–44, 143, 155, 178; non-school 142; nuclear 80; political 132, 136, 137, 157, 175; professional 20; tactical 17 egalitarianism 55 Eisenhower, General D.D. 112, 113, 145 elderly care 83 elites 10, 72, 185, 186 emergencies 81, 82 Emery, J. 118 emotional disturbances 47, 48, 49, 60 encirclement 101, 102, 103 Engels, F. 178 engineering 56 enlistments 36–9 entertainment 136, 158, 164 epidemics 9, 27, 60–6, 76, 91; fear of 54; trauma 46 equipment 31, 32, 135, 139, 188, 189; better 82; cherishing 97; civilian 78; deployment 41; essential 54; hospital 81; inadequate 95; inventory of 35–46; lack of 151, 181; lost 33; medical 27, 46, 54, 62, 71, 78; technical 81; unreliable 156 Erevan 81 esprit de corps 125–85 ethics vii, 50, 94, 108, 109; civilian 145 ethnic and national cleavages 140, 141, 169

ethos 146–2, 149–6, 154–4, 179, 185, 186 Europe 167, 172, 173–4; Eastern 124, 165, 166, 171 evacuation 12–13, 14, 15, 39, 45; air 21, 51, 52, 55; centres 43; industry 182; Navy 56–57; problems 4; rapid 75; stations 25, 26, 63; units 11; vehicles used for 50, 79 executions 122, 128, 147, 163 expenditure 10, 169 extermination 146, 147 Extraordinary Anti-Epidemic Commission 82 extreme situations 80 failures 121, 162 families 158; Italian and Rumanian 110; POWs’ 96, 97, 100, 102, 122 fatalities 55, 61, 63–66, 67–3, 72, 75, 77; Air Force 55; tortured 124 fatigue see battle fatigue fear 154, 161 FEBA (Forward Edge of the Battle Area) 84 felonies 89 field hospitals 12, 26, 79; mobile 11, 13, 25, 27, 44, 46 fighting spirit 2, 125–85, 187 financial allocations 26, 74 Finland 17, 19, 112; war with 16, 47, 93, 143, 146 firepower vii; and manoeuvre viii, x, 29–3, 74– 9, 152, 179–92 first aid 11, 12, 35, 42, 73–8;

INDEX 225

mail airplanes used for 53; kits 33; stations 18, 21 First World War see Great War Five Year Plans: First 9, 10; Second 75 flight hours 56 food 10, 55, 59 Fotieva, L. 9 Foundations for the Health of the Homeland Protectors 59 France 3, 112, 113, 122, 123, 174; death sentences carried out in army 127 fraternity 136 Frederiks, Baroness 3 freedom 104, 117, 187 Fronts 19, 41, 44, 63, 72, 146, 181; Briansk 45; Byelorussian 53; Central 31, 53; Eastern 105; Far Eastern 67; Home 25, 57–2; Kalinin 25, 32; Leningrad 157; Northern 31, 120; Pribaltic 49; Southern 50, 120, 151; Steppe 45; Ukrainian 52, 53, 61; Volkhov 46, 47, 120–6, 147, 150, 162; Voroniezh 45; Western 25–8, 27, 39–2, 43, 50, 53, 147, 183; Zabaikal 26, 67 Frunze, General M. 133, 135, 141 gangrene 38 Gastello, Captain 150 general practitioners 35 generals 100 Geneva 92, 93, 114, 122

Geneva Conference (1929) 91, 92 Geneva Conventions: cruel methods of war (1906) 6; POWs (1929) 85, 88, 93, 94, 106– 13, 109, 113, 123–9 German Army 54, 114, 118, 119, 152, 183; bestiality 94; brutalities 105, 110; enforcement of Soviet nationals into 113; occupation 60; POW camps 109; Russians serving in 112–18; supremacy 75; threat 18 Germany: governments 106; East 173; Intelligence 67, 116; membership of NATO 173, 177; policies 87; POW and refugee camps 111, 112; Soviet Group of Forces in 83; Soviet-German agreement 173; unification 169, 171, 172 girl nursing volunteers 36 GKO see High Command glasnot 66 good will 3, 4, 6, 7, 167, 177; local forces, during Civil War 140; Mongolian 162 Gorbachev, M.S. 45, 66, 166, 174, 177 Gosplan 10 Gotz, L.M. 36 graduates 37, 57 Grand Alliance 94, 111, 112, 118, 187 graves and monuments 65 great battles 67–3 Great Britain 111, 112, 115, 118; army 47–1, 127, 145;

226 INDEX

government 91, 108, 122; military law 89; Red Cross 123 Great Patriotic War casualties 33, 75, 84, 98, 150, 152, 183, 188; assessment of 64–70; care of 5; civilian 66; daily 32, 66; disabled 67; enemy 67; evacuated to rear 45; expected 31, 32, 49, 50, 74, 78, 79; fatal 55, 63–8; growing 39, 148, 182; ill 62, 77; high number 34, 160, 162, 181; Leningrad 60; medical staff 21, 40, 64; monthly 67, 69; morale affected by 151; multiplying 104; naval hospitals and ground forces 56; neuropsychiatric 47; non-fatal 75; penal battalion 153; pilots 54–8, 156; political workers 158; preparing installations for 27; reduced number 184; reports 65; trains for 51; Volkhov 121; see also death penalty; desertion; discipline; executions; fatalities; Military Medical Service morale; POWs Great War 20, 47, 89, 90, 128, 130; casualties 5, 67;

deserters 145; epidemics 7; lessons of 179; POWs x, 87, 92; psychology unknown 164; study of psychogenesis 48 Greece 123, 174 Grigoriev, General 99, 147 ground forces 56, 57 Guards tradition 161 guerrilla fighting 104, 141 Gulags 122 Gurvich, Colonel G.M. 43 Gurvich, M.M. 21 Hague Conventions 6, 88, 90–5, 93, 109, 123 Haller, E.de 105 Hammerstein 105 harassment 189 hardships 108 harsh measures 89–4, 100, 163 hatred 88, 132, 136, 161, 186 health 10, 46, 72, 148; conception 7; control 82; deterioration 56, 60; institutions 78; services 83 helicopters 79 heroism 23, 127, 143, 148–6; ethos of x, 146–2, 154–4, 179, 186; lectures 156; Medical Services 35, 59; POWs and 99, 101, 116–2, 119–7; resistance 182; tragic 150, 187 High Command 24, 95, 144, 182, 183, 184; covering mistakes of curtailment of beds in evacuation hospitals: ‘Decree of the Stavka’ 96, 100; dispirited after purges 75;

INDEX 227

rebuilding morale by harsh discipline 146, 147; reshuffle 19 High Military Council 180, 181 Hitler, A. 11, 19, 44, 108, 116, 119 holding units 152, 153, 163 honour 127, 136, 155, 186 hooliganism 140 horses 51 hospitalization 16, 17, 42, 55; fast 38; in stages 53 hospitals 4, 8, 14, 37, 58; allocation 32; base 25, 55, 57; categorization of 43; civilian 17, 60; emergency 46; evacuation 17, 39, 41, 44, 50, 59; financing 24; first echelon 53; front-line 76; general 47, 56; gynaecological departments 60; Home Front 25; makeshift 38; military 1–2, 9, 59–3; mobile 13, 16, 22, 26, 122; naval 56; necessity, at division level 21; number of operations in certain types 35; reallocation of 42–8; rear 15, 17, 43, 50, 53 76; stationary 57; surgical 39, 43; therapeutic 26, 47; see also beds; field hospitals hostages 97 human relationships 99 human resources vii, viii, 27, 71, 75, 103; see also manpower;

personnel human shield 104 humane assets 71 humanism 2, 35 Hungary 112, 169, 171 hunger 104, 131 hygiene 46, 82; personal 8, 60, 60, 77, 189 ICRC see International Red Cross identity tags 64 ideology 128, 140, 186; animosity 8; beliefs 141; conviction 155; problems 164; unity 148 ignominy 127 illness 60, 66, 67, 73, 77; see also wounded and ill Immigration glasnot 112 immunization 9, 77 Imperial Army 46, 134, 138 Independent Naval Army 52, 53 Independent Reinforced Medical Companies 25 India 173 inducements 58, 59 industry 151; production 34 infectious diseases 39, 43, 60, 61 injury 4, 41–4, 47, 56, 64, 73–8; complications 39; and evacuation 3; and hospitalization 39; radiation 80, 81; traumatic 12 instability 167, 176 intelligence reports 103, 108 international law 90, 113, 114, 178 International Red Cross 88, 90, 92, 93, 105, 125; revision of international conventions 122;

228 INDEX

Soviet attitude to 114 internationalism 155 interrogations 101 ‘Intervention’ 8 invalids 20, 26, 63, 75, 76 inventories 35–38 invisible effects of war 47 Ireland, Northern 48 Israel 47, 89 Isserson, G.S. 179, 181 Italy 82, 110, 112, 174 Japan 104, 162, 177; air supremacy 15, 75; armistice 16; defeat 115; forces 13–14, 26, 72 see also Russo-Japanese War Jews 94, 108 Joyce, W. see Lord Haw-Haw justification for wars vii Kachalov, General 101, 117 Kaganovich, L.M. 61 Kalinin Front 25, 32 Kalinovskii, K.B. 179 Karell, Dr F.Ya. 3 Kaufman, General-Adjutant M.P. 3 Kerch 150 Kerensky, A.F. 6 Khalkhin-Gol 13–16, 19, 74, 75, 143, 144; and the Winter War 12, 17–18, 20, 72 Kharitonov, Major-General 103 Kharkov 36, 69, 99, 104, 150 Khasan, Lake 72 Khrobostov, Major-General V. 125 Kiev 67, 98, 99, 121; fall of 9, 40; hospital provision 37; Military District 37, 138, 180; school for assistant doctors 36 Kirilov, Major-General 101

Kirov Academy of Military Medicine 14, 36, 54 Klimovskii, Major-General 99, 147 Kochkov, Politruk 148 Kluss, I.A. 21 Kokorev, Junior Lieutenant 150 Kolchak, Admiral A.V. 8 Komarov, F.I. 61 Komsomol 36, 58, 157, 158 Koniev, Marshal I.S. 103, 122 Korea 165 Korobkov, General 147 Korovin, E.A. 92 Kozhedub, I.N. 159 Krasilnikov, S.N. 179 Kronshtadt 2 Krushchev, N.S. 122 Kuibishev 57, 110, 148 Kulik, Marshal G.I. 24, 180 Kuprianov, G.N. 17 Kurdiumov, Deputy-Commander V.N. 17 Kursk 45, 53, 67, 162, 184 laboratories 57 language barriers 42 Larrey, Baron D.J. 4 laundries 8, 27, 46, 77 Lausanne Conference 92 League of Nations 93 League of Red Cross Societies 123 lectures 163 legal sanctions 186 Legge, R. 114 Lenin, V.I. 9, 10, 72, 73, 130, 132 Leningrad 17, 31, 36, 56; hospital provision 37, 60; Military District 20, 37, 180; Red Cross 17; siege 52, 99, 151, 157 Leninkan 81 liberation 112, 114 Lithuanians 162 living standards 167

INDEX 229

logistics 49–7, 62, 82; poor 38–1, 74, 75, 189 London 112 London Declaration (1990) 171, 175 loneliness 42 Lord Haw-Haw 118 loss of nerve 102 loyalty 116, 119, 127, 134, 140, 154 Luchko, Brigade Commissar F.P. 139 Lukin, Lieutenant-General 99, 101, 122 Lyuban operation 121 Main Administration departments 36 Main Military Medical Administration 73 malaria 61 malnutrition 91 Manchuria 13, 67 manoeuvre 82; firepower and x, 29–3, 74–9, 152, 179–92 manpower viii, 104, 150, 175, 178, 183–2; additional 45; cost-effectiveness vii; depletion 103; doubling as medical staff 32; lack of 181; less useful 153; lost 33; need to harmonize with equipment 31; percentage in division 75; registration 65; replenishment 38, 42, 71; waste of 29 Marines 157 Marx, K. 178 mass enthusiasm 72 massacres 72, 94, 104 mechanized corps 180, 181, 182 medals 34, 35, 58, 59, 76, 158

Medical Administration of the Navy 56 medical carts 12, 13 medical cavalry companies 51 medical installations 39, 43, 75 medical kits 79 medical personnel 35–38, 45, 50, 187; assistants 16; balanced distribution 15; demand for 1; junior 33, 34, 36, 37; professional 22; replenishment 62–8; scarcity 7–10, 20; set number of 41; specialists 58; students 8; see also doctors; dentists; midwives; nurses; orderlies; stretcher-bearers; surgeons Medical Service see Military Medical Service Medical Study Council 46, 46 medical treatment 39, 188, 189; assessment of 70–77; burden of 20; dead soldiers 23; inadequate 75; need for registration and statistics 21; shock and trauma 46; sick and wounded 14; sound basic principle 15; standardization of medication and 46–49; wounded and ill 12, 29, 83, 178 medications 32, 43, 53, 62, 78 medicine 37, 57–2, 71, 74, 78; anti-radiation 81; by experience 32;

230 INDEX

little control over use 78 Mediterranean 174 Medsanbat 26 Mekhlis, L.E. 17, 102, 151, 153, 180 menial jobs 153 mental patients 4–5; see also disorders Meretskov, General K.A. 121, 180, 181 Mexico 123 Middle East 177 midwives 60 militarism 130, 155 military: academics 82, 168; budget 74; bureaucratic approach 5; culture 135; doctrine 117; education 133–44, 143, 155, 178; elites 185, 186; experience 36, 100; hierarchies 185, 186; justice 145; law 89; logic 120; order 130; procurement 46; rationale of fighting armies 120, 121 Military Attachés 114 Military Districts 10, 33, 37–38, 79; Kiev 37, 138, 180; Leningrad 20, 180; Moscow 37, 82; Siberian 15; Zabaikal 14 Military Medical Service ix, xi–84, 148, 156, 178, 184, 187; composition 23–29; contemporary 77–9; history xi–5 Ministry of Defence 23, 24, 44, 79, 87 Ministry of Health 23, 24, 44, 58, 60

minorities 4, 140, 142 missiles 81, 165, 170 missing soldiers 65, 66 mobile laboratories 46 mobile surgical units 25, 26 Medical Study Council 46, 46 Moldavia 112, 162 Molotov, V.M. 61, 106, 110 Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact 16, 18–5, 94, 181 Mongolia 13, 14, 15, 162 monuments 65 moral matters viii, 105, 117, 137, 188 morale vii, 2, 6, 99, 125–4, 185; bad effect on 99; boosted 75, 100; and command 158–7; discipline and 146–70, 186, 187; disruption 54; drop in x; enemy 89; loss 95; low 5 mortality 5, 76 Moscow 13, 38, 7, 95, 148, 148, 177; anti-aircraft installations 60; battle 25, 32, 44, 45, 67, 69, 99, 104, 150, 156, 163, 184; front 31; hospitals 1, 5, 6, 9 37, 82; Military District 37, 82; Red Cross 3, 90 Moseev, General M.A. 64, 67 motivation 6, 7 motor vehicles 27, 50, 74, 75 movements of populations 60 MPA (Main Political Administration) 17, 17 Muslim periphery 140 mutual aid 4, 33 Naranovich, P.A. 3 nationalism 1, 162, 187; ambitions 141;

INDEX 231

aspirations 115, 166; ethnic and religious groups 186; flags 170; religious and ethnic strife 166; sentiments 168; separatist interests 170 nationalities 91, 112–21, 118, 136, 142, 162; retroactive definition 111 nationalization 6 native languages 142 NATO 84, 164–2, 166, 169, 171–84 Navy 46, 56–57, 67, 79, 81, 142; loss of battleship 160–7 Nazi regime 95, 118, 178; bestiality 93, 103; brutality 188; disposition 107; war conduct 111 NBC warfare 79 negligence 81, 82 nervous breakdown/strain 47, 55 Netherlands 93 neurosis 47 neurosurgeons 38 Nevsky, A. 162 new order 177–5 new recruits 103, 104, 133, 138 New York 125 newspapers 137 NKVD 40, 102, 103, 104, 131, 153; dead in Great Patriotic War 67 non-acquiescence 119 non-Russians 42, 162 Normandy 113 North Africa 112 Northern Caucasus 69 Norway 110 nourishment 188 nuclear power 172; adventures 176; attack 170, 172; disarmament 173; missiles 165;

reactors 81; ships 81; war 77, 79, 80, 81; weapons 170, 175 nurses 20, 21, 34, 59, 71; medical 26, 58; operation theatre 36; senior 34; surgical 26, 27 nutrition 46 obedience 139, 143–51, 186 O’Connor, B. 123 Oder-Neisse 173 Odessa 37 officers 8, 36, 125, 159, 162, 170; inept 188; skilled 40; loyalty 7, 91, 158; need for exemplary behaviour x; opening fire on own men 105 Oka 52 operational ineptitude 95 Oppel, V.A. 73, 74 orderlies xi, 9, 12, 13, 18, 33–7; auxiliary 76; combat 58; lives sacrificed 75; mainstay of the Service 16; non-official establishment 63; senior 58; significance in curtailing death toll 21; training institutes for 3; women 59 organic medical units 17 organization 17, 38–3, 74, 152, 174– 2; bad 81; improvization 159; perception and 38–3; and structure 29 Orlov 183 overwork 189

232 INDEX

Oxford 123 pacifism vii Pakistan 173 Palestine 108 panic 102, 103, 111, 146, 148, 163 parachutists 156 paranoia 48 Paris 123 partisans 57, 94, 101, 103, 104–9, 146 Party see Communist Party patriotism 37, 59, 155, 162 Pavlov, Corps-commander D.G. 180 Pavlov, General 99, 117, 147 Pavlovna, Great Duchess Elena 2, 3 penal battalions 152, 153 perestroika 23, 69, 70, 168, 171, 177; external implications 166; upheaval brought about by 77 Persian Gulf 165, 173 personal example 156, 157, 159 personal hygiene 8, 60, 60, 77, 189 personnel 27, 32, 39, 84, 140–6; better educated 82–8; commanding 139; inventory 35–38; professional 33, 64; Red Cross 9; regular 34; skilled 40; wives of 137; see also medical personnel persuasion 146, 151, 155, 159, 173, 185 Peru 123 Petrograd 7 Petrozavodsk 17, 17 pharmaceutical industry 26, 39 pharmacologists 36, 39 pharmacy 79, 81 pilots 54, 56, 149, 156 Pioneer Corps 48 Pius XII, Pope 110

planning 31, 44, 63; strategic 95 plasma 53 poison-gas warfare 123 Pokryshkin, A.I. 159 Poland 112, 123, 171, 173; war against 1, 6, 9, 91 Politburo 59, 180 political factors: consciousness 129, 135, 137; cultures 145; decisions 182; discussions 102; education 132, 136, 137, 157, 175; ideology 125; ignorance 131; ill-intentions 141; lessons 42; means 147; organization 162; process 102; purposes 69; studies 136; system 83, 167, 170, 173; work 42, 142, 151, 162; workers 140, 148, 156, 158 Poliyarnoe 148 Ponedelin, Major-General 101 Portugal 93, 123 power struggle 141 POWs (prisoners of war) 40, 65, 66, 67, 146, 188; American 107; attitude to vii, ix-x, 85–125, 178; Belgian 107; British 107, 109; casualties among 76; committees for the release of 125; different races 91; escaped 104, 114, 125; escaping 104;

German 97, 98, 110, 112–13, 114, 115, 117, 118, 128; Japanese 123;

INDEX 233

legal legacy of the Soviet Armed Forces 90–7; liberated 103; need of intensive medical care 104; visits by ICRC 105 Prague 166 preventive measures 60, 77 Pribaltic 37 price of victory 64; moralistic approach vii, viii; utilitarian approach vii–viii, 1, 2, 69–5, 98, 157, 187–7 production 151, 182 professionalism 134, 135 profiteering 147 prognosis 49 proliferation 173 propaganda 121, 144, 151, 155–2, 162, 164; German 106, 107, 108, 109; ‘Socialist’ 137; Soviet delegation expelled from Switzerland for disseminating 91; Swiss regulations against 115 protection 107, 154, 185, 186 Provisional Government 73, 131 Prussia 3, 50 Pskov 162 psychiatry 4–5, 47–2 psychogenesis 47, 48, 49 psychology: aspects 135; disturbances 47; obstacles 139; preconditioning 136; preparation 156; reactions 48; recovery 128; treatment 26, 154; uneven use 164 psychoneurosis 49 psychopathology 47–2 psychophysiology 47

psychosis 48, 49 public baths 60 punishment 32, 125, 132; capital 89, 91, 96, 144–50, 163; collective 32, 117; corporal 99, 130, 131; fear of 154; summary 97 purges 11, 36, 70, 73, 111, 179–8; background to viii; hatred for regime after 186; morale during 144 radiation injuries 80, 81 railways 4, 25, 32, 50, 75; repair 75; workers 10 ‘ramming’ 149 rationale of fighting armies 185–5 rationalization 153–60 rear 41, 51, 57–2, 78, 97, 151; death toll 21; deep 24, 25; desertion to 96, 131; evacuation to 4, 5, 14, 45; hospitals 15, 17, 43, 50, 53, 76; inclination to move to safety of 102; not adequately prepared for war 74; provisions, mountain-desert locations 27 recruitment 130, 140; see also new recruits recuperation 73 red tape 81 Red Crescent xi Red Cross: American 92, 106, 123; German disrespect for emblems 50, 64; Stockholm Conference (1948) 124; Swedish 92; see also International Red Cross;

234 INDEX

Russian Red Cross Red Guards 7 ‘Red soldier’s book’ 132 Red Star 78, 137 reduction of forces 177 refugees 111, 115 registration 21, 27, 64, 65, 74 rehabilitation 47, 75, 100, 101, 115, 122 Reiner, B.A. 36 Reinforced Medical Companies 25 relations 114 relationships 32, 151, 177, 178 religion 23, 154, 158 religious authorities 22 reorganization 10–12, 83; and coordination 41–54 repairs 54 repatriation of POWs ix-x, 111–17, 118, 122, 123, 125; harsh treatment 120 replenishment 38, 42, 43, 71, 103, 104 repressions 95, 125 reprisals 113 republics 83, 164, 176 reservists 17 resistance 31, 151, 159, 183 resources 2, 24, 38, 165; physical and mental 33 retaliation 111, 172 retreats 31, 103, 151, 152, 154, 163; Polish 9 reward 42 rights 116, 125 rivalries 141 roads 15, 50 Robespierre, M. de 87 Roosevelt, F.D. 157 Rostov 101, 150 Royal Air Force 135 RSFSR 16, 132, 169, 170 Rumania 110, 112, 171 running the gauntlet 130

Russia ix, 1–2, 138, 177, 182; European 104, 182; Imperial 87, 90; see also RSFSR Russian Red Cross xi, 2, 6, 9, 90, 124; application for International membership 92; beds for mental patients 5; blood donation 57–1; commission (1922) 91; first initiative towards creation 3; girls encouraged to attend courses by 36–9; Leningrad 17; refusal to participate in International Conference (1923) 93; voluntarism lost 71 Russian-Turkish War 3 Russo-Japanese War 4, 5, 57 Sabinina, M.S. 3 Sabotage 104 sacrifice x, 18, 57, 71, 127, 148 St Petersburg 2 sanitation 9 Saratov 59 scapegoats 120, 121, 162 scientific infrastructure 57 Second World War see Great Patriotic War security 115, 176, collective 165, 167, 177; international 116; national 167, 168, 170; vetting 102 self-preservation 72, 143, 147, 154, 159, 185; substituting 139 self-sacrifice 138–4, 155, 186 Semashko, Dr N.A. 7, 9, 10 semi-military bodies 113 Sevastopol 56, 150

INDEX 235

SHAEF (Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force) 113 SHAPE (Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers in Europe) 84 Shaposhnikov, B.M. 14, 98, 99, 100 180 Shchadenko, E.A. 44, 180 Sheksna 52 ship emergencies 81 shock 47, 96, 102, 150, 154; death as a result of 38; treatment of 10, 46 Sholokhov, M.A. 101 shower-bath installations 22 Shtern, G.M. 15 Sisters of Charity 2, 3 Skachkova, A. 58 slaves 94, 104 Slavs in Armed Forces 142, 169 sledges 18, 51 Smolensk 1, 40, 67, 99, 101, 148 Smymov, Y.I. 67, 67 social activity 136 Socialism 1, 165, 166, 177 Society for the Care of War Wounded and Sick 3 soldier-philosophers 186, 187, 188 Solov•ev, Z.P. 7 Somme 179 Soviet of Medical Collegiate 7 Soviet of Work and Defence 9 ‘Sovietization’ of new recruits 133 Sovnarkom 10 space 74, 75, 152; and time 29 Spain 174, 180, 181; Civil War 179, 181 ‘special service’ treatment 102 spiritual assistance 154, 158 stability 176, 177 Stalin, J.V. 37, 61, 87, 99, 102, 150, 157, 162; arguments with high-ranking officers 160;

atrocities 120; blunders 70, 117; ‘brilliant achievements’ 69; casualty reports 65, 66, 67; Collectivization period 94; mass enthusiasm under 72; misreading of German intentions 46; and Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact 18– 1; officer corps made scapegoat for failures 162; precondition for victory 57; prestige during war 159; purges viii, 36, 111; ruthlessness 163; security 115–1; terror 95, 186; trials 95; ‘war of extermination’ speech 147; Zhukov’s argument with 98 Stalingrad 99, 150; battle 44, 45, 56, 67, 69, 183; offensive 154, 157, 158, 162 standard of living 107, 140, 189 Standley, Admiral W.H. 110 Staraya Bolotnitsa/Staraya Rossa 103 starvation 110 State Defence Council 65 Stavka (General Headquarters) 95, 96, 104, 151, 163 stigma 104, 122, 175 Stockholm 123, 124 stragglers 102, 104, 104 strain 56 Strategic Defence Initiative 176 strategies 29, 31, 95, 170, 177, 187 stress 60, 154 stretcher-bearers 12, 33–6, 63, 73, 75, 75; carriage capacity 35; introduced for first time 3; significance 16, 21;

236 INDEX

women 59 stretchers 17, 18, 24, 52 students 36 styptic tourniquets 58–2 suffering viii, 108 Sukharev, A. 125 supervision 109, 136, 141, 172 supplies 146, 147; food 10; medical 24, 27, 78–4 Supreme High Command 163 Supreme Soviet 154, 168 surgeons 16, 27, 34–7, 37–38, 45, 46, 84; chief 46; military 59; shortage in Far East 14 surgery 27, 46, 47, 78 surprise attack 98, 146, 162, 169, 175; disarray resulting from 32; impact 54, 71, 101, 104; shock of 95, 152 surrender 31, 88, 98, 186; unjustified 101 survival 33, 83, 84, 95, 129, 147 suspicion 115, 175, 176 Sweden 82, 110, 123, 174; Government 107, 109 Switzerland 93, 106, 114–20; Communist Party 92; Government 109; Swiss-Soviet relationships 92, 115; see also Geneva; Geneva Conference; Geneva Conventions; International Red Cross symbolism 161, 185 tactical missiles 81 Talalikhin, Junior Lieutenant 150 Tallinn 56 Tamtsag-Bulak 15 tanks 18, 175, 179–8, 182–2

Tashkent 46 technological backwardness 167 tensions 100, 176 territorial units 140, 141 terror 95, 186 tests of fire 18, 19 therapists 46 threats 113, 165, 185 ‘three camps’ system 91 time 74, 75, 152 Timisoara 171 Timoshenko, Marshal S.K. 98, 100, 151, 180; Voroshilov replaced by 19, 144, 181 Todt 113 Tokyo 177 torture 124 ‘total approach’ 66 traditions 179 training 3, 134, 135, 136, 142, 157 trains 51 traitors 99, 104, 116, 117–6 Trans-Caucasus 140 transportation 5, 41, 46, 77, 83; see also aircraft; ambulances; cars; motor vehicles; railways; sledges; tanks trauma 48, 49, 154, 157, 163; and therapy 46–47 treason 127; see also traitors triage 41–4, 43, 44, 55, 84 trial and error 32, 56, 72 trials 95, 101 Trotsky, L. 8, 133, 134, 141 Tukhachevskii, Marshall M.N. 132, 133, 134, 179, 184 Turkey 1, 174 typhoid 62

INDEX 237

typhus 9, 62, 72 Ukraine 45, 83, 142, 162, 168, 181; Fronts 52, 53, 61 Ulan-Bator 13 Ulan Ude 14 unification 169, 170, 172 uniforms 54, 112, 113, 114, 116 unit courts 132 United Nations 123, 124, 168 United Press 113 United States 122, 166–4, 172, 177; ‘Communist expansion’ 115; diplomatic struggle with Soviet Union 105–12, 108, 109–16, 112– 18, 123, 173; forces 62, 165; Geneva Convention (1882) 88; request for medical aid from 39 University of Moscow 57 Urals 47, 182 vaccination 9 valour 161 values 119–5, 129, 140, 185, 186, 187; conservative 116; ethical 134; normative 117; shared 161 Vatican 111 vengeance 111 Verkhovskii, D.N. 21 vermin 94 veterinary staff 8 Viasma 99 Vienna 174 Vietnam 18, 125, 165 Viktorov, Dr S.V. 15 violence 130, 143, 186 Vitaskin, Division commander 148 Vladimirskii, M.F. 10 Vlasov, General A.A. 118–7, 157 Volga 45, 52

Volkhov 17, 46, 120–6, 147, 150, 162; first therapeutic hospital 47 Volokolamsk 148 voluntarism 3, 4, 37, 57–2, 71 voluntary organizations 2, 5, 6, 7 volunteers 33, 36, 130, 163 Voroniezh Front 45 Voroniezh-Voroshilovgrad 69 Voroshilov, Marshal K E. 14, 57, 98, 100, 184; replaced by Timoshenko as Defence Commissar 19, 144, 181 Vyshinsky, A. 109 123 war criminals 94, 123, 124 war effort 57, 115 war games 132 Warsaw Pact 164, 165, 166, 171, 172, 174; see also WTO washing facilities 46, 77 Washington 110 water purification 24, 46 weather conditions 51 Wehrmacht 69, 76, 119, 138, 159, 162, 173; air supremacy 39, 149, 182; most efficient military machine in history 186; traction power provided by horses 51; see also German Army welfare institutions 83 Welfare State 1 White forces 8, 72, 140 will-power 155 Winter War 72, 143; conclusions drawn from 75, 144; made possible 19; Medical Service 11, 12, 16–18, 20, 25 withdrawal 67, 171, 182 women 60, 76, 77;

238 INDEX

doctors 37, 59; health of 59–3; number receiving ‘Hero of the Soviet Union’ 34; recommended removal from medical battalions 21; special place in ‘pantheon of heroes’ 148; wives of military personnel 137 working hours 59 wounded 17, 33, 65, 148; Afghanistan 124; citations for retrieval of 34; evacuation 50, 51, 53; left until dark 21; less seriously 43; lightly 22, 43; replenishments from, after convalescence 103; seriously 41; streamlining 42; therapeutic hospitals swamped 47; waiting time for attention 39; unable to move without help 35 wounded and ill 6, 31, 38, 46–9, 76, 186; care for 2, 72; chances of survival 83; devotion to 18; distribution of supplies according to predicted number 79; entertainment and care 158; evacuation 12, 13, 51, 52, 57, 75; Government almost oblivious to 3; hospitalized 24; improved treatment 14, 29; less seriously 26, 55, lying without treatment 5; mistakes detrimental to 15–16; problems 1, 92; treated on the spot 45 WTO (Warsaw Treaty Organization) 166, 171–84

X-ray units 11, 17, 24 Yalta 112, 113 Yaroslavl 46 Yassi-Kishinev 61, 67 Yelts 53 Yom Kippur War 47 Ypres 127, 179 Yudin, Professor S.S. 156 Yugoslavia 171 Zabaikal 14, 15, 26, 180 Zaraiskii, A.N. 36 Zhdanov, A.A. 17, 92 Zhukov, Marshal G.K. 14, 19, 75, 159

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