Crimea. All Wrangel could hope to do was to hold them back at the landbridge to the mainland, the Perekop isthmus, and prepare for evacuation.
Once again the White currency collapsed in value as civilians scrambled for places on the ships. But Wrangel’s withdrawal was at least far better organized, mainly thanks to the geography of the Crimea and the determination of the rearguard to hold the Perekop defence line. Altogether 126 ships, British, French and White Russian, took part in the evacuation, ferrying 150,000 people across the Black Sea to Constantinople and the Bosphorus.
Britain and France arranged for the remains of Wrangel’s army to be housed on the Gallipoli peninsula, the site of Britain’s painful military disaster five years before. The defeated Turks were not of course consulted. Wrangel’s men remained in uniform and in their regiments. The evacuation had forced them to leave horses and artillery in the Crimea, but they had been allowed to retain side arms and personal weapons. Once they were settled in their extremely primitive billets - the headquarters of the Nikolaevskoe military college was a commandeered mosque - Wrangel ordered that military training should recommence on 21 January 1921 to maintain morale. But this mainly consisted of endless parades, either to celebrate regimental days or in honour of visiting White Russian dignitaries.
Lev was evidently among those young officers who wanted to leave, but it was not easy. A special commission considered the applications of those wishing to be dismissed because of illness or injury. Those who fell into this category were moved to a camp for refugees. Those who wanted to quit the army for other reasons encountered various obstacles. A common practice was to stop giving them their rations, taking away their warm clothes and blankets. Lev wanted to leave, but without money he did not stand a chance. He feared that if he stayed, he would die. His only hope was Aunt Olya, but he had no idea where she was.
Lev was indeed fortunate that his aunt had not been able to return to Moscow as she had hoped. The Kachalov group had been in Constantinople but encountered no success in arranging a season of performances. The shortage of money had forced them to move from a modest hotel to a virtual dosshouse, before taking ship for the Balkans.
Aunt Olya’s brother, Konstantin Knipper, was much luckier in his attempts to return to Moscow. After the collapse of Admiral Kolchak’s forces, he somehow managed to get back from Siberia with his wife and Olga’s child. The importance of his skills as a railway engineer saved him. The Bolshevik government was prepared to make temporary concessions to get the right expertise at that time, and repairing the railroad system was vital if the starving cities were to be fed. On their return to the family apartment at 23 Prechistensky bulvar, Olga’s little daughter did not recognize her mother after so long. She refused to allow Olga to kiss her or to hold her hand, because she did not consider her to be her ‘real mother’.
This was to be the last time that Olga ever saw her father. She was thinking of leaving Russia, at least for a while. In those ‘hunger years’, survival itself was degrading. Most young actresses were forced to resort to part-time prostitution and venereal disease was rife. Olga wanted to try her luck in Berlin, leaving her daughter, Ada, once again with her mother. She was greatly encouraged in this plan by Ferenc Jaroszi, the Austro-Hungarian cavalry captain described by Misha. He and other members of the family were certain that she married him. Olga applied for a six-week exit permit. Later, in a typical example of compulsive embroidery for her movie memoirs, she claimed in one volume that permission had been given by Lunacharsky himself, thanks to the intervention of Aunt Olya (this was most unlikely, since she was still abroad as an illegal émigrée); and elsewhere that her exit
Once again the White currency collapsed in value as civilians scrambled for places on the ships. But Wrangel’s withdrawal was at least far better organized, mainly thanks to the geography of the Crimea and the determination of the rearguard to hold the Perekop defence line. Altogether 126 ships, British, French and White Russian, took part in the evacuation, ferrying 150,000 people across the Black Sea to Constantinople and the Bosphorus.
Britain and France arranged for the remains of Wrangel’s army to be housed on the Gallipoli peninsula, the site of Britain’s painful military disaster five years before. The defeated Turks were not of course consulted. Wrangel’s men remained in uniform and in their regiments. The evacuation had forced them to leave horses and artillery in the Crimea, but they had been allowed to retain side arms and personal weapons. Once they were settled in their extremely primitive billets - the headquarters of the Nikolaevskoe military college was a commandeered mosque - Wrangel ordered that military training should recommence on 21 January 1921 to maintain morale. But this mainly consisted of endless parades, either to celebrate regimental days or in honour of visiting White Russian dignitaries.
Lev was evidently among those young officers who wanted to leave, but it was not easy. A special commission considered the applications of those wishing to be dismissed because of illness or injury. Those who fell into this category were moved to a camp for refugees. Those who wanted to quit the army for other reasons encountered various obstacles. A common practice was to stop giving them their rations, taking away their warm clothes and blankets. Lev wanted to leave, but without money he did not stand a chance. He feared that if he stayed, he would die. His only hope was Aunt Olya, but he had no idea where she was.
Lev was indeed fortunate that his aunt had not been able to return to Moscow as she had hoped. The Kachalov group had been in Constantinople but encountered no success in arranging a season of performances. The shortage of money had forced them to move from a modest hotel to a virtual dosshouse, before taking ship for the Balkans.
Aunt Olya’s brother, Konstantin Knipper, was much luckier in his attempts to return to Moscow. After the collapse of Admiral Kolchak’s forces, he somehow managed to get back from Siberia with his wife and Olga’s child. The importance of his skills as a railway engineer saved him. The Bolshevik government was prepared to make temporary concessions to get the right expertise at that time, and repairing the railroad system was vital if the starving cities were to be fed. On their return to the family apartment at 23 Prechistensky bulvar, Olga’s little daughter did not recognize her mother after so long. She refused to allow Olga to kiss her or to hold her hand, because she did not consider her to be her ‘real mother’.
This was to be the last time that Olga ever saw her father. She was thinking of leaving Russia, at least for a while. In those ‘hunger years’, survival itself was degrading. Most young actresses were forced to resort to part-time prostitution and venereal disease was rife. Olga wanted to try her luck in Berlin, leaving her daughter, Ada, once again with her mother. She was greatly encouraged in this plan by Ferenc Jaroszi, the Austro-Hungarian cavalry captain described by Misha. He and other members of the family were certain that she married him. Olga applied for a six-week exit permit. Later, in a typical example of compulsive embroidery for her movie memoirs, she claimed in one volume that permission had been given by Lunacharsky himself, thanks to the intervention of Aunt Olya (this was most unlikely, since she was still abroad as an illegal émigrée); and elsewhere that her exit
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