Light Cavalry Action Read online

  Potter stared at Kirkham in admiration. ‘My God,’ he breathed to Higgins, ‘this man is quite a performer!’

  Higgins nodded, swallowing uneasily. Kirkham dominated the court, with everyone in it hanging on to his speech.

  ‘However,’ the word came out explosively as he continued, ‘however, in spite of this, we have to accept that events justified the landings of small British, French and American detachments at various important points as support for the local anti-Red forces. Whether we stayed too long in Russia is a matter of opinion, but to have withdrawn our forces immediately after the Armistice in 1918 would have been a flagrant betrayal of our White Russian comrades. Let me explain…’

  Beyond Kirkham, the two old men on the jury who looked as though they might have served through the war were leaning forward now, listening carefully, though others alongside them still looked a little baffled. Mr. Justice Godliman had slid down in his chair until he was hardly visible above the brass rail in front of his desk.

  Kirkham had spread his papers on the desk in front of him now and was leaning over them on his hands. ‘In the same month of 1918 that saw the smashing of the British lines near St. Quentin in France,’ he went on, ‘the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk was signed between the new Revolutionary Russian government and the Germans. This took the Russians out of the war and allowed German troops to pour into Finland, Lithuania and the Ukraine – ostensibly to assist the weak Soviet government to maintain order but actually to obtain as much food as possible to minimise the Allied blockade of Germany, and to grab at the great stores of war material sent by the Allies to Russia during their participation in the war and now lying in railway cars at Archangel, Murmansk and Vladivostok.

  ‘It was, of course, of vital importance to the Allies to prevent Germany gaining any advantage from the downfall of Russia, and in March, 1918, a British naval force was landed at Murmansk to guard these stores, but there was no idea of participation in Russian affairs until our hand was forced by the Czechs.

  ‘As early as 1914, Czechs living in Russia had raised a force to fight Austria and by 1917 this had grown to an army corps and, as they were anxious after the Revolution to continue to fight for the Allies, it was decided to transport them across Russia to Vladivostok and thence to France. They were supposed to be unarmed but they had retained many of their weapons for their own safety, and fighting broke out between them and the Bolsheviks and, by their daring, the Czechs seized all the important towns on the Trans-Siberian railway as far as Irkutsk. Further east they occupied Vladivostok and towns on the Amur. In August, 1918, they cleared the region round Lake Baikal and early in September joined hands near Chita with their fellow Czechs from Vladivostok in the north and with certain Allied detachments.’

  Kirkham paused and straightened a few papers on the table in front of him before continuing.

  ‘Encouraged by the success of the Czechs and alarmed at the dangerous entente growing up between the Germans and the Bolsheviks,’ he went on, ‘the Allies landed a few British, American and French troops at various points like Archangel, Vladivostok and South Russia, and anti-Bolshevik governments began to spring up in various areas; and the growing disorder, the arrogance of the Germans and the atrocities and confiscations of the Bolsheviks and the success of the Czechs began to give these counter-revolutionaries heart. They were further encouraged when the Allied military missions arrived – to help in training troops and to restore stable government in a country that was drifting into anarchy.

  ‘British officers were among those who were soon at work distributing guns, harness, uniforms, et cetera, and instructing Russian volunteers. But…’ Kirkham’s pause seemed thunderous ‘…all these wheels of organisation had been put in motion before the Armistice that ended the war with Germany, and when that came it was neither possible nor advisable to stop the machine at once, and after a lot of hesitation and talk at the Armistice conference, it was decided to maintain the missions to relieve the distress of the Russian people. The real truth, of course, was that everyone was afraid of the Bolshevik menace and hoped to overthrow the Soviets, yet support in any strength was obviously out of the question. The result was that everything that was done was only half-done.’

  The white-haired jurist frowned and Potter saw the scarred ex-ranker nod briskly, as though he knew the whole story and disapproved of it as strongly as Kirkham. Moyalan seemed to have noticed, too, and Potter saw him pass a note to, his junior. He could read what it said.

  ‘Scarface is our man,’ it said.

  Kirkham was drawing to the end of his opening speech now. ‘As it happened,’ he was saying, ‘we had backed the wrong men. Mistakes were made and before long the White or anti-Communist armies began to collapse in a confusion of misery, with the railways along which they retreated becoming a via dolorosa for the decimated regiments and the thousands upon thousands of refugees who accompanied them.’

  He paused and looked up. ‘We come now to the nub of the story as far as it concerns us,’ he said. ‘There had been a feeling for some time that British troops must not be involved in what was primarily a Russian affair and instructions to that effect had been issued. But as General Prideaux – or Colonel Prideaux, as he was then and as we must refer to him throughout this case for the sake of clarity – was in command of a regiment that was basically Russian, the 103rd, or Kouragine Hussars, a regiment of light cavalry, it was felt that these orders did not apply to him, and, instead of withdrawing ahead of the Russian armies like other British soldiers, he courageously elected to remain as a rearguard at the town of Nikolovssk, where he was caught up by the Red Army under Budenny.

  ‘It was here, near Nikolovssk, at a village called Dankoi, that Colonel Prideaux – in spite of the desertion of certain of his Russian allies – elected to give battle. As we know from the history books, he attacked the Red troops and the action of his depleted squadrons has rightly become known as the Balaclava of the Russian Civil War. He came out of that action with the Red Army reeling back on its heels, though unfortunately also with many casualties.’

  Kirkham paused and looked hard at the jury.

  ‘This legal action,’ he concluded, ‘arises out of that cavalry charge, and practically everybody who is to be brought here as a witness was concerned in it, all of them members of Colonel Prideaux’s regiment of light cavalry. It is, in fact, if I may be so bold as to be facetious in face of the grave accusations that have been made against the plaintiff, a light cavalry action.’

  4

  Prideaux

  The temptation to clap Kirkham’s performance was tremendous, but the impulse that Potter felt was stilled as General Prideaux marched to the witness box with his head erect, almost as though he were leading a regiment on parade.

  He took the oath, holding up the Bible in his right hand, then Kirkham began to take him through the evidence of his career.

  ‘Henry Airdley Soames Prideaux,’ he said. ‘Son of Brigadier Thomas Soames Prideaux, who won the Victoria Cross during the South African War?’

  Prideaux nodded and Kirkham continued, outlining the highlights of his career, with Prideaux nodding agreement every time he paused.

  ‘Grandson of General Prideaux who was decorated for his part in the attack on Sebastopol and great-great-grandson of one of Wellington’s commanders at Waterloo. Harrow and Sandhurst. Entered the army as a hussar, 1901, just too late to join your father in South Africa?’ Nod from Prideaux. ‘Served in India, Cape Town and Bermuda, holding various staff appointments?’ Nod. ‘Went to France in August, 1914, and took part in a mounted cavalry action in Belgium near Rouge Croix?’ Nod. ‘Wounded during that action and taken prisoner, November, 1914. Spent the rest of the war in German prisoner-of-war camps from which you twice managed to escape. Returned with other prisoners to the United Kingdom, November, 1918?’ Nod. ‘Volunteered for Russia in December the same year. Landed in South Russia, February, 1919, and appointed to the command of the Kouragine Hussars. Attached to the forces
of the White Russian commander in the south, General Denikin. Led the charge at Dankoi…

  ‘Of which a little more later,’ Kirkham intoned sombrely, almost as though it were a threat. ‘Returned to England in 1920 after the collapse of the White Russian front. Awarded the d.s.o. and promoted brigadier while still in hospital recovering from the effects of wounds received at Dankoi. Major-General, 1929. Lieutenant-General, 1935?’

  ‘Yes. Yes. That’s so.’ Prideaux kept nodding his head as Kirkham listed his advancements in rank, and Potter leaned towards Higgins.

  ‘Making sure he gets off to a good start,’ he commented in a whisper. ‘If all this doesn’t influence the jury, nothing will.’

  There was a pause as Kirkham became silent, and it seemed everyone in the stuffy courtroom sat up. They had reached the real beginning of the affair, they all knew. The preliminaries were behind them now.

  * * *

  ‘I would like you to tell the court of the events at Dankoi on that snowy November day in 1919, General Prideaux,’ Kirkham was saying. ‘Just in your own words. Just as it appeared to you. I’ll see that no details are overlooked. Please begin with your arrival at Nikolovssk.’

  Prideaux smiled and nodded.

  ‘Well,’ he began, ‘I arrived in Nikolovssk in early April, 1919, rather later than the other people. My doctor had insisted on a short leave in England first as I had been a prisoner of war, and I was also engaged on staff work on the South Russian coast for a while. I discovered on my appointment to the Kouragine Hussars that the unit I was to command was about five hundred miles to the north and that there seemed to exist no means of getting there.’ Prideaux paused for a moment, his heavy handsome head slightly to one side as he drew on his memory.

  ‘At Khaskov,’ he went on, ‘where the British officer in command in the area, General Inde, had his headquarters, I was joined by Major Charles Finch, who was to be my second-in-command. When we arrived in Nikolovssk, there was no one to meet us and, in the end, we had to find a taxi cab to take us to the Slavska Barracks which, I learned from the Railway Transport Officer, a British captain by the name of Barry, were occupied by the Kouragine Hussars, together with a unit of artillery, an infantry regiment and a group of engineers. Also in the town were other units of General Denikin’s Volunteer Army. The front was farther to the north where General Denikin at that time was pushing back the Bolsheviks under Budenny.’

  ‘What did you think of the Slavska Barracks, Sir Henry?’ Kirkham interrupted quietly.

  Prideaux gestured. ‘It was an ugly place,’ he said briskly. ‘Quite frightful. The cavalry had taken over one of the blocks, and for the British officers one of the rooms had been partitioned with pine boards into cubicles with cots and plank beds. There were rusty iron stoves but no fuel, the windows were almost all broken and in some cases stuffed with rags.’

  ‘What about the troops? How did they seem?’

  Prideaux considered for a moment. ‘I found the regiment very much a mixed bag,’ he said. ‘The Russians, who were dressed in British uniforms with British arms and equipment, seemed on the whole a very unprepossessing lot – mostly peasants – and the British troops, which made up one of the three squadrons under my command, weren’t much better. They were mostly B.1 category soldiers and not the best of specimens. The officers, both British and Russian, were, as far as I could make out, thoroughly dissatisfied and disaffected. They had obviously been touched by the discord that was running through Russia at that time.’

  ‘Sir Henry,’ Kirkham brought him up short, ‘what was the reason for this feeling that was running through Russia?’

  ‘Although at that time in retreat, the Red Army had achieved some success in the north under Trotsky and in the south under Budenny. There were a great many atrocities being committed by both sides – prisoners shot without trial and so forth – and the White Russian troops in general were restless and most unreliable.’

  ‘Thank you, Sir Henry. Please continue.’

  Prideaux smiled. ‘The Russian officers,’ he went on briskly, ‘of whom only a few came from the former Russian Imperial Army, had command of the Russian Squadrons, and the British officers of the single British squadron. The British officers, with Russian liaison officers, ran the show. The most prominent of the officers I had was Major Higgins…’

  ‘The defendant?’

  ‘The defendant. There were also, I remember, a Captain Potter; a Captain MacAdoo, who was a Canadian; and a Lieutenant Colmore, who was a New Zealander. There were others, of course, and to my mind they were none too experienced or reliable for the work that was expected of us – scouting and the gathering of information.’

  ‘Thank you. Please continue, Sir Henry. What did you find, when you arrived?’

  Prideaux paused for a moment. ‘There were no quarters prepared for me,’ he continued. ‘The barracks were dirty. The troop horses were very poor specimens – mostly, as far as I could make out, former transport animals. They were shaggy and underfed and quite useless for cavalry work. In addition, I found that instead of teaching cavalry tactics, horsemanship and horsemastership, Major Higgins had acquired several motor cars and seemed to spend most of his time tinkering about with them, and with a woman with whom he was conducting an affair.’

  Kirkham held up his hand to stop him and appeared to be searching among his papers for something, but it was quite obvious he had halted Prideaux only to let the Information about Higgins’ affair rest firmly in the minds of the jury before continuing. At last, Kirkham seemed to find what he wanted.

  ‘Was Major Higgins interested in motor cars, Sir Henry?,’ he asked.

  Prideaux nodded. ‘He was fanatically interested,’ he said. ‘He was a good officer on the whole but he had this bee in his bonnet about cars. He had four of them standing in one corner of the barrack yard and a squadron sergeant-major – Busby, I think his name was – and a dozen men tinkering around with them.’

  ‘What about the general conduct of the officers?’

  Prideaux considered. ‘There was a distinct clique,’ he said. ‘Chiefly made up of Major Higgins, Potter, MacAdoo and Colmore. It was very strange and disturbing. They showed hostility to me from the start and seemed to resent my arrival. I think, to be fair, that Major Higgins had been running the show and didn’t like being superseded and, as the others had fallen in with his somewhat easy-going ways, they didn’t like the changes I made when I arrived.’

  ‘What changes did you make, General?’

  ‘Well, first of all, Major Finch found a hotel where it was clean and where there was room to move and we tried to set up a headquarters. I also withdrew most of the men from the cars and put them back to the training and drilling of the horses. Though the British were not expected to do any fighting, as the Kouragine Hussars were largely Russian, it was felt these orders didn’t apply to us, and as I expected to be in action eventually, I wanted my unit to give a good account of itself.’

  ‘Which, indeed, it eventually did. Please continue, Sir Henry.’

  ‘It wasn’t easy,’ Prideaux went on. ‘At no time did I get the support I needed from the group of officers round Major Higgins. Their resentment at my arrival was most marked and they showed it in various ways. Major Higgins, for instance, secretly put Busby and his men back on the cars and put Lieutenant Colmore in charge of them. These men did none of the normal duties of cavalrymen.’

  ‘What were the cars used for?’

  Prideaux gestured. ‘Higgins had some wild idea of using them for reconnaissance,’ he said. ‘But there weren’t even any roads in this part of Russia – nothing except broken-up dirt tracks.’

  ‘Were they ever used?’

  ‘Not really. There was no telephone in the barracks and no hope of getting one so that we had to use runners – a thing that caused a great deal of delay – and as there were no means of getting into the town when it was essential to contact the British Mission there, I took over one of the cars for my own use. The others,
as far as I can recall, apart from one or two short trips, were used only once.’ Prideaux paused. ‘With the exception of one,’ he ended.

  ‘And that one, General?’

  ‘That one was sent out by Major Higgins, under the command of Lieutenant Colmore, to do a job for which I had expressly designated a squadron of horsemen. It didn’t return and we learned later that it had broken down, and had been caught by Red cavalry and everybody aboard it murdered.’

  There was a long pause which Kirkham made longer by indulging in his trick of searching for a document among the papers in front of him. General Prideaux glanced round the court and gave a brief gesture with his hand.

  ‘About this time,’ he went on, ‘the White armies began to retreat and things became somewhat confused, and much of my information of necessity came through Mr. Christopher Murray-Hughes, a newspaper correspondent who was using my headquarters and my telegraph priorities. It was very difficult to handle the Russian troops at this time as they all had a far greater fear of the Red cavalry than of any punishment I could hand out, and there were a few desertions and a few incidents of disaffection which I put down very firmly.

  ‘Then we received news of an Anglo-Russian unit near Archangel murdering its British officers in their beds, and even of a Canadian unit being caught up in the general disaffection. We were all vaguely expecting trouble and, in fact, owing to the slack discipline which had been maintained during a period of my absence in Khaskov, the regiment tried to mutiny. It was dealt with very weakly by Major Higgins but, by great good fortune, I arrived back just in time to discover the incident and deal with it firmly, though we were unable to hold a court martial on the men who had organised the affair as, the following day, news was brought into the town that Budenny’s Red cavalry was approaching. I immediately called out the troops and we took station to the north and west of the town, on the way to Elizabetskaya where Budenny was reported to be gathering his forces.’