A trim 138 page look at the post-WWI clash between a messianic Soviet Union and a newborn (reborn?) Polish state. Zamoyski, an excellent writer, neatly filled in a gap in my knowledge of interwar Europe. It’s surprising that this story isn’t better known in the rest of the world, but as Zamoyski points out, the Polish victory prevented something from happening (the spread of Bolshevism to Poland, and from there to a likely German revolution, etc.). It’s harder to wrap your head around the importance of things that didn’t happen. But for the “Miracle on the Vistula,” we wouldn’t have had “Socialism in One Country,” and the 20th century would’ve looked quite different.
A few observations:
• Pilsudski’s early years remind me of nothing more than Stalin’s youth. “…brought up in the cult of Polish patriotism. In his youth he embraced socialism, seeing in it the only force that could challenge the Tsarist regime and promote the cause of Polish independence. His early life reads like a novel, with time in Russian and German gaols punctuating his activities as polemicist, publisher of clandestine newspapers, political agitator, bank-robber, terrorist and urban guerilla.” The biggest difference being that Stalin was handsome, and Pilsudski had gigantic, moth-like eyebrows.
• Tachanka, the Eastern European chariot. Much like the technical of today’s MENA battlefields, the tachanka was a cheap, easily constructed solution to the problem of insufficient firepower in a mobile conflict between less-than-wealthy opponents. Used extensively by the Russians, it was an open-topped, spring-suspension buggy with a heavy machine gun mounted in the rear. They often accompanied cavalry formations, and provided serious punch that could attack and withdraw swiftly.
• Armored trains. Armored trains are mentioned multiple times throughout this book – one, the Smialy, is mentioned by name – and I’ve read about them elsewhere. What I’ve never read about is how they were actually used. I imagine they’re useful for freighting VIPs about, for foiling ambushes and partisan attacks, and for defending fixed positions about a rail head, etc. I’ve come to believe that armored trains were largely ineffective, or at least of quite minor importance, or we’d hear more about them.
• Cavalry proved to be important in a dynamic conflict set in country with poor infrastructure. The Soviet “Konkorpus” under Hayk “Gai” Bzishkyan (an ethnic Armenian) proved to be particularly effective, and brutal. Zamoyski writes:
“The cavalry of the respective sides encapsulated the fundamental characteristics of the two armies facing each other: the less numerous Poles relied on smaller, trained and equipped units operating according to established rules of war; the Russians on vast numbers of ofen entirely unsuitable men, equipped with whatever was at hand, on improvisation and on ignoring received methods in order to exploit any situation. “The Russian army is a horde,” wrote the man who would lead it into Poland, “and its strength lies in its being a horde.” This would prove an advantage, given the terrain.”
• A history of underground resistance to occupation gave the Poles an interesting advantage: skill in cryptography and sigint. “… a long tradition of encryption and decryption reaching back through a century of conspiracy and resistance. Polish officers had also served in the monitoring services of the Russian, German and French armies, and as a result the intelligence-gathering unit set up by the Polish army at the beginning of 1919 had a wide knowledge of existing techniques and an unsurpassed range of skills. By the summer of that year it had broken the Russian codes, and by the beginning of 1920 it was listening in to every radio station in western Russia, and intercepting and decrypting 50 per cent of all communications reaching and leaving the Red Army’s Western and South-Western Fronts.”
• There’s record of a confrontation between Polish lancers and a Cossack cavalry unit that started off with a challenge of single combat between champions, something that might’ve been at home in the year 920. One Kuzma Kruchkov issued a challenge, and one Captain Raciecki accepted. After a brief clash, Raciecki cleaved Kruchov from collar to waist.
• The English and French sent Poland military missions and something approximating moral support, but not much else. Bitterly disappointed, at their first meeting Pilsudski asked the French representative, Maxime Weygand (one-time chief-of-staff to Marshal Foch), “How many divisions have you brought?” Weygand of course had brought none. Must’ve been an awkward meeting for Weygand.
• Blocking troops. Movies about the Second World War love to show Russian soldiers stationed behind the front lines, in place to fire on their countrymen should they try to run from the enemy. I’ve read about such things, too, but only that such blocking units existed, and never that they actually mowed down their own men. Evidently, in their desperation the Poles resorted to the same idea; we also don’t hear of them gunning down retreating Polish troops:
“[The generals] were so alarmed that they ordered a cordon of military police to take up positions behind the front line and to machine-gun any retreating troops. These measures apparently did the trick, as observers noted a sudden change of heart and even a new self-assurance in the men who had been abandoning their positions only that morning.” I’ll bet they had a change of heart.