Permanently Operating Factors - A Soviet LAN AAR

VILenin: Pah, I am Comrade Stalin! Are you suggesting I purge myself? To Siberia with you!

Update coming up!

20 kilometers east of Chita
January 10, 1937

Lukin bucked forward in his seat as the train lurched to a final halt at the dilapidated train station near a small village east of Chita. If he was honest with himself, he would have been surprised that the village even had a train station. However, he was never honest with himself as such was anathema to him. He didn’t think about those things though, especially not when he had a mission. Soon after the annexation of Tannu Tuva, Voroshilov had given him a mission: mass his division-sized corps east of Chita and strike at the Manchurians from the northwest. Of course, the situation then had been rather different, he knew. It was not as urgent as it had become in late December.

Voroshilov had provided him only with a vague outline of the sequence of events that lead to the encirclement of most of his Front, but Lukin understood that it largely had to do with Voroshilov’s staff bungling his simple but brilliant plan. There was also something about how the Manchurians did not cooperate either, which was worrisome. If they weren’t cooperating, how did Voroshilov expect Lukin to reverse the pendulum of war all on his own? Lukin took comfort in the fact that Voroshilov evidently thought highly of his abilities and was resolved not to disappoint his patron. Voroshilov had hinted that a reversal of fortunes in Manchuria could lead to a full colonel-generalship and all the benefits of such a position.

Standing up and stretching, as he had been sitting and planning the entire journey from Kyzyl, Lukin looked out the window. It was late morning and the sun was slowly rising above the flat expanse of snow, shining off of it as if it was a mirror, straight into his sensitive eyes. Lukin flinched back and squinted, making out dark shapes on the horizon that he believed could have been the divisional artillery. Stepping out of the train, Lukin was blasted by a freezing wind and he pulled his greatcoat tighter around him as he began trudging down the platform to the hut that was the only nearby building. Nearing it, he saw two figures inside of it and another waiting outside, he presumed that they were from his staff, sent by his chief of staff to take him to headquarters. As he closed in on the hut, he noticed that the man outside was indeed his chief of staff, and looking so unbothered by the cold and wind that Lukin could have sworn that he was actually dead.

Fortunately, he was not and after a quick consultation inside the hut, the four men set off to the forward headquarters from where they would oversee the push back toward Manchuria. Lukin learned how grim the situation was from his chief of staff, the Manchurians had occupied Borzya beyond the border, thus actually invading the Soviet Union, and it would be a difficult battle in the freeze to push forward against the Manchurian defenses, which were estimated at one division, cavalry. Having been in the area since December 10th when it took the town, the Manchurian cavalry was necessarily more organized than his hastily transported division. Lukin gritted his teeth, on the brink of questioning Voroshilov’s order. However, his mind was trained not to go so far and he quickly retreated away from that dangerous edge and back toward thinking of the battle to follow soon.

He had scheduled the first assaults to begin at noon on the 10th and had expected to have arrived at least a day earlier to organize his units but the weather had slowed the troop trains, and his own command train even more, resulting in a rather more haphazard effort. In fact, if he strained his ears he thought he could already hear the preparatory artillery bombardment over the howling of the wind. Tapping the driver on the shoulder, he urged the man to drive faster. With both him and his chief of staff away from the headquarters, his division was essentially directionless.

After what seemed an eternity to his worrying mind, they finally arrived at the headquarters and rushed inside, not only to take command of the attacks but also to enter into the warm room. The radio operators were quite glad to be given immediate directions by Lukin and his chief of staff, as they had been coordinating the initial assault with the brigade commanders with no real idea of anything. Swiftly taking control of the situation, Lukin forced his brigade commanders to push forward against the Manchurians despite being in a weaker position. He seemed to have a natural and deft grasp of warfare within the dense forests that made up the environs of Borzya.


The attack on Borzya.

As the day wore on, Lukin never flagged in his direction and slowly, but surely, it seemed that he was going to actually beat the Manchurians. He hardly noticed the passage of time or that it was quickly becoming dark outside; he felt as if he was truly in his element. He knew that the fight would take a while, but he was also quite certain that he would pull it off and be victorious despite the odds.

Voroshilov had been right after all.

coz1: Well, we'll see how well he does. He commands only one division, after all

4th Dimension: Verily, Voroshilov is a highly hallucinagetic substance

General Jac: I thought that as well, but actually I did win this battle

Comment day again!

The Kremlin
January 20, 1937

Voroshilov sent the radio man out of the room, wanting to hear the reports from Manchuria for himself as he overviewed the past days of conflict, since Lukin had joined the campaign at last. He listened intently, but was mournfully aware of the panic in the voice of the radio operator on the far side of the Soviet Union, deep within Manchuria, as fighting went a distance away from him, but also all around him. Voroshilov was worried that Lukin would not be able to turn the tide; despite success in Borzya against the odds, he was too far away from the real events to make any difference. Lukin was simply too far away, too slow, and too weak. Voroshilov bit his lip, he was afraid that he would have to go grovel to Stalin for extra forces with which to crush the upstart Manchurians.

He knew exactly what units he had in mind, though, if he were to beg for reinforcements. They were well commanded, hard-hitting corps that were, shockingly, up to full strength. There were two of them, and Voroshilov wanted both of them. It stung a bit that he would require their aid, but likely necessary, if he was honest with himself. It also hurt how quickly one of them had been promoted; on January 1st, a year previous, he had just been made a lieutenant general. Since then, he had become a full colonel general, in November, and Stalin seemed to favor him for field marshal as well! It shocked Voroshilov and he longed for the times when it was political connections rather than military skill that ordained the frequency of promotion. Fortunately, however, the other man was still merely a lieutenant general. That was a man Voroshilov believed he could handle, if only by weight of rank.

Sighing, exasperated with the way things change, Voroshilov looked down at the papers on the table in front of him. He saw scribbled hints of three major events that he needed to review; the third event was actually occurring at that moment, in the Far East. Voroshilov grimaced, he had lost his urgent taste for work now that he knew that he was safe from Stalin’s displeasure. Of course, that might change if he needed to go grovel before the man, but Voroshilov had faith in his ability to grovel sufficiently well to appease Stalin. Yawning, Voroshilov picked up the first sheet of paper and idly read the scribbles of the radio operator.

* With fall of Mudanjiang to own forces and Shapkin’s recapture of Spassk-Dalnij, Iman surrounded. One Manchurian division trapped. Cavalry.
* Manchurian general Japanese. Maybe mercenary, maybe Manchuria and Japan have signed secret defense pact. Man’s name Nakajima, lieutenant general. Fits neatly into Japanese old guard, knows how to set up a good defense.
* Shapkin attacks late 17th, gives up early 18th. No headyway.

Voroshilov sighed, they were all incompetents over there. He wondered why Stalin and Tukhachevskij had saddled him with such fools. He gritted his teeth, not doubting for a moment that Tukhachevskij had used Stalin in an attempt to discredit Voroshilov in Stalin’s eyes. Voroshilov needed to redeem himself in Stalin’s eyes, again. And discredit Tukhachevskij, of course. Voroshilov’s mind wandered onto this topic and he realized exactly how he could do it, as the plan drawn up for the invasion of Manchuria was set along the ideas of Tukhachevskij’s own deep battle doctrine. Voroshilov grinned hungrily, eager to flesh out the idea even more. First, however, he had to complete his review of events.


The battle for Iman, Shapkin’s unsuccessful assault.

He weakly picked up the next sheet of scribbling, not wishing to read it but eager to be done with the onerous duty.

* Manchurians reoccupied Mudanjiang.
* Division in Jilin isolated again, being mere hours away from reaching Mudanjiang. Fresh attack toward Mudanjiang begins.
* Division from within Jilin keeps advancing, in the attack. Shapkin’s division turns around and hits Manchurian rear.
* Manchurian commander field marshal Zhang Haipeng, leading cavalry. Defensive man, battle difficult.
*Manchurian fighters seen securing air superiority.

Voroshilov groaned, everything was falling apart. The Manchurian air force even owned the sky. The entire campaign was a disgrace; it obviously revealed the weaknesses of Tukhachevskij’s moronic doctrine.


Yet another battle for Mudanjiang.

Voroshilov knew that the final piece of paper would be the most painful. He had to fight himself to even try to pick it up but, finally, he accomplished it and allowed his eyes to speed through it as quickly as possible.

* Jilin division under attack by Manchurian force from Xinjing. Cavalry, supported by much artillery.
* Manchurian general White Russian Kilitsin. He knows winter, having fought in Siberia during the Civil War. He knows value of offense as well. Can expect no relenting from him.
* Battle still going on, issue very much in doubt. Defeat may be possible. Possibly probable.


The battle for Jilin.

Voroshilov groaned again before throwing the piece of paper down. He felt lighter, though, and happier. His task was done; he could finally turn his powerful mind to wrecking Tukhachevskij’s reputation.

VILenin: Voroshilov is a fun character to write for, I found. I had a lot of fun making him so worthless and twisted

Discomb: Yep

coz1: Perhaps, perhaps...

Comment day!

BritishImperial: VILenin already answered your question, mostly. The incident I mentioned with Buddenij, the pool full of wine and the girls was real enough though I wasn't sure if Voroshilov was there or not. And it's a real enough quote that one other Soviet general called him the "biggest bag of shit in the Soviet army" so from these two I just extrapolated.

VILenin: Yep

Update coming up!

13 kilometers west of Vladivostok
February 6, 1937

Lieutenant General Shapkin grinned from beneath his moustache, staring hard into the freezing winds coming from deep within Manchuria. He didn’t know why he was grinning, he just kind of always did so when the odds were bad. It had benefited him in war games; the opposing side would see him grinning and believe him to have more resources than they had believed and had gotten cautious, thus allowing him to return to strength and defeat them. He chuckled under his breath, in a way it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. However, there were no Manchurian generals to see him now, no one to be thrown off by his grin, just the snow that was half-blinding him. But still he grinned, it was habit.

Even as he grinned, though, Shapkin was swearing under his breath. He could have been shouting for all the good it would have done him, the wind was howling so loudly that he could barely hear his own swears. Shapkin had done relatively well for himself so far in the Manchurian campaign, his corps of one division had the distinction of being the unit still in action that was part of the original offensive. This was, of course, because his corps comprised the northern thrust through Jiamusi toward Harbin, but he had then been withdrawn from that attack to deal with the Manchurians, who had by that time conquered Vladivostok. And, Shapkin sighed, the campaign had gone downhill from there. The three divisions in Mukden had been destroyed on December 17th. Somehow, though, Voroshilov’s own personal division had managed to prevent itself from being destroyed even though its commander was absent most of the time. Or perhaps precisely because its commander was absent; Shapkin could not decide.

He knew, however, that it was Voroshilov’s chief-of-staff who had come up with such a flawed plan and executed it, not Voroshilov. He could understand that Voroshilov was likely overburdened, given that he was also the commander-in-chief of the entire Red Army. However, in his wisdom Voroshilov should have then turned over control of the Manchurian Front to someone else. Shapkin shook his head, still grinning. What was done is done, he knew, and no speculation could undo it. He simply had to outmaneuver the Manchurians somehow and keep the fight around Vladivostok going.

This plan of action was naturally made harder by the destruction of the division in Jilin. It had occurred during the breakout, with the Manchurians around Mudanjiang broken and fleeing only the cavalry in Xinjing could have destroyed it. And they did. In four days of battle in drastically subzero temperatures the Soviets and Manchurians battled it out, ravaging the landscape along a twenty kilometer stretch that marked the path of breakout for the Soviets. The surrounding land had been shattered as the Soviets, desperate to escape and uninhibited by their lack of ammunition, fired off everything they had in a desperate attempt to keep the Manchurian cavalry at bay. It had nearly worked; the Manchurian cavalry had been dragged down to its last offensive capabilities even though it was ably supported by a brigade of artillery. However, the end was nigh for the Soviets. The last were slaughtered mercilessly as they attempted to fight it out in the caves of the foothills of the mountains around Mudanjiang, using bayonets and rifle butts. The Soviets knew of the Asiatic torture methods and preferred death to surrender.


The division at Jilin was finally defeated.

Shapkin could picture it all in his head, the last stand of that Soviet division. He was something of an artist, and he knew that he would like to paint such an unforgettable scene some time. He would not need to add any artificial details to it, in its already inherent patriotism it was very nearly ideal. Stalin would like it, and that was all that mattered. Shapkin shook his head to clear his mind, patriotic paintings would have to wait until after the Manchurian campaign was concluded and he had more free time.

As it was, in the aftermath of that defeat, which occurred on the 24th, Shapkin turned around from Mudanjiang and prepared to attack Iman again. The Manchurian cavalry there, and he wondered whether cavalry was all the Manchurians fielded, they had resisted his assaults once before. He was determined to succeed the second time. Time, of course, worked for him. The Manchurians in Iman were cut off from all supplies and quickly dissolved before his advance once he attacked again early in the morning on February the 1st. Rather than marching into Iman though, which Shapkin knew would take a long time, he turned around and headed southward toward Vladivostok. He knew that reoccupation of the city would be looked well upon, and given the stress of his position as commander of the only fighting unit east of Borzya, Shapkin did not mind making himself look good for a possible future promotion.

Thus, he arrived in Vladivostok just after sunrise on February 5th. He quickly set up his headquarters in Voroshilov’s old headquarters building, taking advantage of all the modern infrastructure. Despite the gain and the modern amenities, the operational situation was not good and he knew it. The Manchurians had a weak militia division far to the north, they had another, unidentified, division at Harbin and moving toward Jiamusi. Finally, there was the Manchurian cavalry and artillery at Jilin. Shapkin knew that he would have to be aggressive to keep the Manchurians away, but he had to be careful about the risks he took as well. Shapkin decided to attack toward Jilin.

Thus, Shapkin was staring at the mountains that ensconced Jilin as his division attacked toward it. From the reports that were flowing in from the front, it seemed that he had caught the Manchurians flatfooted and that his soldiers were making progress through the first line of Manchurian defenses. Shapkin felt confident that he could throw the Manchurians back; he did not want to capture Jilin as he had to maintain a connection with Vladivostok. He did, however, want to make Vladivostok safe from immediate attack.


Shapkin’s attack toward Jilin.

coz1: Well, I underestimated the Manchurian resistance. But still, none of the other Fronts are getting involved, though reinforcements are finally on the way

BritishImperial: Well, the European Fronts have no business in Manchuria. Neither do the other two Asian Fronts, the Caucasus and the Persian Fronts. The Manchurian Front was expected to conquer on its own, but this is apparently not quite the case. But reinforcements are coming!

rcduggan: Hey, that's not quite fair! I think I have two divisions fighting there now! Granted, they're kind of on the extreme opposite ends of Manchuria...

Comment day!