Somewhere on the Tran Siberian Railroad
December 14, 1936
Voroshilov giggled to himself giddily; he was glad that he was out of the trap that his enemies in Moscow had set up for him. He had decided on the 4th, after getting out of bed some time in the early afternoon, to return to Moscow to take care of some business, as it were, as the Commander-in-Chief of the Soviet Army. It was, of course, a total lie but not completely inconceivable and, better yet, it required his own personal presence. Of course, he would stay in Moscow for two to three weeks, the urgent business running past the New Year’s Eve festivities, which he assumed would be quite glamorous, given all the new conquests that would be celebrated. Voroshilov smiled broadly, looking forward to New Year’s Eve. However, he knew that this was not the best part of his plan. The best part was that because he was gone, and explicitly leaving his chief-of-staff in charge of operations, any blame for defeat would fall not only Voroshilov’s shoulders but instead his! Voroshilov giggled sinisterly, pleased that his conniving abilities had not dulled with age and luxury.
Voroshilov sighed happily and slouched in his comfortable chair, which he had taken along with him from Vladivostok, as well as his feather mattress and other effects. He certainly did not want those filthy Manchurians and their White Russian lackeys to get their hands on such prized possessions. He brightened at this thought; the idea of bringing a number of prominent White Russians back from Manchuria to Moscow as prisoners to parade before Stalin was a promising thought. He would have to keep the idea to himself until he could return to Manchuria with another Front, ready for a
real invasion of the country. Voroshilov did not think he was being callous, completely writing off an entire Front as lost, for it was likely the case. He was receiving daily reports from his chief-of-staff about the campaign at the way stations along the Trans Siberian railway, all of which had been outfitted with radio receptors.
The attack on Mudanjiang had gone awry, leading to another attack three days later, on the 7th. By that time, however, Vladivostok had actually fallen, and Voroshilov had winced at how close his precious belongings had been to capture. However, this necessarily meant that the division taking part in the attack had only a limited amount of supplies and thus failed to drive the Manchurian cavalry, which was leaderless to add to the insult, from the mountains. His chief-of-staff had directed Shapkin’s 53rd Rifle Corps, consisting, as usual, of only one division, to withdraw from Jiamusi where it had marched back to its starting point at Spassk-Dalnij, where it seemed the Manchurian cavalry from Vladivostok were moving next. Voroshilov shook his head, his chief-of-staff was panicking. Without the protection of not being nominally in charge, he was afraid of taking risks he normally would have taken had he been under Voroshilov’s protective shield. Survival of the fitting, Voroshilov thought primly to himself, the man was obviously not general material.
The second battle for Mudanjiang and Shapkin’s withdrawal from Jiamusi.
By late evening on December 8th, the three southern spearhead corps had reached Mukden, the final strategic location along their axis. The chief-of-staff, Voroshilov actually still did not know his name, directed them to attack Harbin in an attempt to gain the last strategic point within Manchuria itself, as well as to open up a supply line back to the Soviet Union via Jiamusi. Voroshilov smiled tightly, that effort did not end well.
The battle for Harbin, which ended in Soviet victory.
Voroshilov acknowledged that the Manchurian defenders had been driven off, but to no avail. By the 11th, the Manchurians had driven a wedge between the division at Jilin and the three at Mukden by reoccupying Xinjing. The Manchurians had then launched an assault aiming to wipe out the division at Jilin, utilizing two cavalry divisions; one from Xinjing and the other from Mudanjiang.
The second battle for Jilin.
The battle raged for two days before finally the Manchurians gave up their attempts, somehow the out of supply division had proved too strong for them, though Voroshilov was sure that attacks on Xinjing and Mudanjiang had aided the defense. His chief of staff had redirected two divisions from the Harbin road toward Xinjing and engaged that cavalry division in its rear and defeated it on the 13th, not long before the Manchurians gave up their attacks on Jilin. Shapkin was also employed, attacking Mudanjiang from Jiamusi and leaving Spassk-Dalnij to its fate. As soon as it was able, the division in Jilin joined the march toward Mudanjiang, which happened to be the next day. That same day, Spassk-Dalnij fell to the Manchurians and they began racing toward Iman.
The situation in Manchuria on the 14th of December.
Voroshilov put down that latest report, feeling slightly sick in his stomach. Other Manchurian units were appearing and some even marching into the Soviet Union! Voroshilov had certainly not left a moment too soon, he might even have to be careful how he explained this drastic change of events, given how fine the difference in time between his departure and the entire campaign falling apart was. Nevertheless, Voroshilov was confident that he would manage it; he was good at saving his own skin. And then, once it was saved, he would return to Manchuria with another Front, possible Buddenij’s Reserve Front, and cover himself in glory by conquering Manchuria and delivering many White Russians as prisoners to serve as the objects of Stalin’s displeasure! Voroshilov’s mouth was nearly salivating, his future seemed so bright.