Germans Fighting Germans

BY THE TIME THEIR son, whom they had called Michael, a name easily used by Russians and Germans, was eight months old, the war, stirred up by the Pan-Slav movement, began. A year later Alexander Grushov received a notice that threw the whole household into turmoil. He was to report for duty with his old regiment.

Albina walked about with tears flowing at the slightest provocation. Grushov often held her in his arms and told her not to worry. He had honorably done his service, and the country could not command a man twice.

“This order must have come by mistake from some low-level office. I will go and talk to my superiors and plead my case. I know they will help.”

“How can you be so certain? These are the same people who just declared war on Germany, a country they have lived with in peace and cooperation since the time of Catherine the Great.”

“Be calm, my love. First of all, I have honorably absolved my duty of service to the country. Second, I am now a father and married man with responsibilities and a business. They have to consider this carefully. Moreover, there will be many unmarried officers anxious to prove their mettle in a conflict, willing to assume my duties.”

He tenderly stroked her beautiful, silvery hair.

“Fine,” she thought, “he needs intercession. And he may even get a stay. Yet, until such time I shall worry.”

Such intercession however necessitated that he see the men of rank in person. This meant that he had to leave for St. Petersburg at the earliest. A few days later Alexander left his home so early in the morning that the land, dripping with dew and shrouded in the risen Volga fog, looked as if in mourning. He carried a small valise with a few necessary items of clothing. Deep shadows hung over the steppe, while swaths of gray mist from the Volga drifted over the land.

His man, Klaus Grünfeld, a magic man where horses were concerned, drove him to the train station in Saratov in a light open cart drawn by two matched blood bays. Grushov had been reassuring at home, yet he did not feel the confidence he had displayed to Albina. Better than anyone, he knew the vagaries of the Russian government and, as its extension, the army. They could order him into uniform at a moment’s notice. His Orthodox upbringing had re-asserted itself, wrapping him in a cloud of fatalistic doom. It was the very same feeling experienced by most Russian soldiers when going into battles – the certainty of death.

His mood was as gloomy as the early, foggy morning. By the time he reached Katharinenstadt the fog had lifted, and sun bathed the charming, sweet town in bright, rosy light. Grünfeld, who had been silent all morning, piped up: “You will have a great travel day, sir. Don’t worry, we will look after Frau Grushov and the little fellow until you are back.”

“Thank you, Klaus. I know I can rely on you for anything that might come up. That is not the cause of my worry. I don’t trust our officials to always abide by the rules, that’s what has been nagging my mind.”

“I will pray for you and Frau Albina, sir. I know that you will fare well. If it’s God’s wish you will be back in a few days.”

Grushov smiled his thanks and thought, “This is the Germans’ greatest strength – their prayer and unending faith in the benevolence of God. My people, by contrast, believe in the saving grace of martyrdom and see every day as a sad travail to be endured without hope.”

Albina had tried to be brave, had tried not to cry, but the moment she had seen his back as he went through the door, bitter tears streamed down her face. However, soon she collected herself and turned her worry into prayer. God would keep him safely here by her side. For that she prayed, and soon she felt that all would be well and he would come home to her and Michael.

While Alexander sought his superiors in St. Petersburg, Albina received by courier from Katharinenstadt the earliest newspapers. She was always mortified by the reports she read in those papers.

In the end it had been the Panslavists who had determined Russia’s course. The rising Panslavism had brought about protection treaties with Serbia. She read that a member of the Serb Nationalist Association known as the Black Hand had killed the Austrian Archduke, Franz Ferdinand, and Nicholas II had found himself unpleasantly trapped.

The papers told how he had tried to extricate himself by seeking partial mobilization for the defense of the Austrian border only, trying to stay out of the blossoming conflict. However, Russia had no military plans for partial militarization and, pushed by the Panslavic faction as well as the German-hating contingent, the Tsar had agreed to full mobilization.

This fateful step by the weak Nicholas led immediately to Germany’s mobilization and declaration of war. Such were the antecedents of World War I.

Along the Volga and in every other German colony in Russia a hue and cry went up:

“Au weh! Woe is us! Who will save us now?” Instinctively even the dullest of men realized that in a war against Germany the colonists would be ground to bits, like wheat between two millstones.

Russia had begun to hate all Germans. For openers, they threw their own German citizens into the front lines against Germany, the enemy, while the Germans in the old fatherland were enraged and despised the colonists for their perceived complicity even more.

Like rabbits encircled by nets, the colonists hunkered down, meekly awaiting their fate. Their prayers for peace daily filled the aether. They prayed harder than they had ever prayed before. Perhaps God would allow the goblet of hemlock to pass them by.

“Why, oh why must this horrible thing happen now?” Since the terrible Seven Years’ War, both royal houses, of Russia and Germany, had coexisted in peace. However, the colonists’ prayers were in vain. God allowed man’s folly and arrogance to proceed uninterrupted. Would not otherwise some of his subjects have been deprived of their free will?

Every worst nightmare the colonists dreamed of materialized. The young men in the colonies were the first to be mobilized and thrown into regiments on the German front.

Ugly anti-German, anti-nemyetskiy rumors, horrid sentiments, spreading like wildfire across the country raised even greater fears in the colonies. The worst colonist-haters embraced the declaration of their general and war hero, Michail Skobelev, announcing at large: “I have been dreaming all my life of war with Germany.” Raucous applause followed this statement, wherever he spoke.

Panslavists clamored that pushing colonists from the country and redistributing their resources would benefit the poor, downtrodden Russians in the future. There were not many things the revolutionaries, Panslavists, nationalists and other malcontent factions could agree upon; however, they could all agree that disenfranchisement of the Germans was a most beneficial remedy for the country.

World War I descended upon Russia like a nightmare haunting the sleeper. Russia entered into this war without the will for a fight. France and England delineated Russia’s obligations. Persia, Afghanistan and Tibet were pawns in Europe’s war game. The Russian army was pitifully lacking in all equipment. Some parts of the army lacked training, and the military leadership was not up to the standard required for a multinational war.