American apartment, big American car, big university, and I will not see you ever again. So, it is not good for us to become involved.”
Outside in the rain, a black car was parked with two men observing them. They couldn’t hear anything and the rain made it useless to watch through binoculars, but they were being paid to observe, which is what they were doing.
7th Brigade Story
John Albrecht had returned to Lansing with the guard unit in early 1921. It was cold crossing the North Pacific in the cargo ship. The train ride from Bremerton, Washington, to Michigan wasn’t so bad until they got into the northern plain states in the midst of winter blizzards. The coal stoves in the passenger cars gave some heat, but it didn’t matter, they were finally going home for good.
It was freezing under a grey sky when they stepped from the train in Lansing, but nothing like they had experienced in Russia. Only half of their Battalion had returned. Even though they’d been spared the worst of it in the trenches, many had perished getting supplies to the front. Some had been killed in combat, some had died of infections from wounds, and some died from disease. The war in France wasn’t the worst of it. The division had been ordered to Russia before the Armistice, to serve two additional years while combat troops in France went home. They weren’t supposed to be fighting anymore, but a civil war was raging all around them. The weather and hazards of guarding the rail line against bandits had also taken their toll. Their Battalion had as many casualties by the end of 1920 as many combat units during the War.
John promised himself he would return to the newspaper and write the complete history of the Brigade, mainly focused on their inept and corrupt commander. After being in the field with the man for three years under the harshest conditions, he was qualified to judge the man’s abilities. He began the story about the 7th Quartermasters Brigade and Lt. Colonel Hicks, on his first day back at the paper. In that era, it was unacceptable to use the man’s obscene nickname, so he characterized it as “unflattering.” The editor loved the first segment, but wasn’t going to risk a lengthy project and being sued for libel. He demanded that Albrecht give Hicks a chance to comment on the first part of the article that would eventually take months to tell. Albrecht had kept a daily diary during the war with every detail recorded.
John reluctantly called Hicks to say that he was writing a chronology about the 7th Brigade It was a short call in which Hicks didn’t comment. John then called some of the other troops who’d also kept diaries who would be eager to expose their former commander, in the context of human interest stories about many of the men, the places they’d been, the tragedies they’d endured and the fun times. They were all enthusiastic about the project.
When Albrecht came to the paper the next day, he was surprised to see Hicks in the editor’s office standing and waggling his finger, forcefully emphasizing a point that wasn’t quite loud enough to be heard through the interior glass windows. John entered without being summoned. Hicks stopped immediately and looked at him with a piercing stare. After a brief moment of silence where John retained a passive, unflustered expression, the editor said, “Good morning, John, I think you know Mr. Hicks.” Neither man offered to shake hands, and Hicks seemed to cower slightly when he realized that Albrecht no longer had any duty to him, exhibiting total disregard for his former rank. The editor continued, “Mr. Hicks believes he may be unfairly represented in the series we are preparing to publish.” Of course, the editor had already read the first copy several times.
John looked at the editor, then back to Hicks mentioning, “And why would you be concerned about that, Mr. Hicks?” He’d avoided using his former military title, which visibly upset Hicks.
“If you’re going to write anything about the 7th Brigade, I want to approve it first.”
The editor started to comment when John interjected, “This is a newspaper, Mr. Hicks. We do not offer our material to any outside people for censor. You may comment if you wish about the subject matter when published, but you cannot control the content.”
“Now look here, Albrecht, that was my Brigade and you don’t know what hard decisions I was forced to make. No one below me knows; I was in Command!”
John smiled; the shoe was finally on the other foot. He took pleasure in seeing Hicks squirm. This was richer than he could have hoped for. He’d never expected to look Hicks in the eye again, except maybe at a trial. “The story is not being written from a command perspective. I’m writing it from an enlisted viewpoint, exactly as I recorded it in my diary and the diaries of several of the other men who have contributed.”
Hicks was fuming, addressing the editor. “Are you condoning this; a bunch of low-level doughboys gossiping about their commander?”
The editor remained calm, seeming to enjoy witnessing the storied Major who John had described in person. As a seasoned newspaperman, he was accustomed to controversy. “Now, Mr. Hicks, there’s no reason for alarm. I’m sure you will find Mr. Albrecht to be a very competent reporter and will be most accurate in his story.”
“If you print one more word of his story, I’ll sue this paper!” Hicks was totally irrational.
The editor was unflustered, “Mr. Hicks, you may think you have that capability, but let me assure you that this paper has weathered many libelous claims, and, you might say, we are a bit of an expert on the subject. So, please do not make threats about processes that you know nothing about and cannot possibly afford to prosecute. And, I might add, you would lose.”
John stood smiling without saying another word. Hicks had said his piece, and the paper had received his comments. In fact, there were some new elements to the story. One would question why a man such as Hicks would make threats to the paper without even knowing the full content of the story? The simple answer was that he knew his men hated him, and he knew they would report his thievery. He no longer had any authority to control them. John almost pitied the man, almost.
Hicks stood stammering, not knowing what else to say before replacing his expensive-looking Homburg on his head and storming out. John just stood smiling at his boss. “Satisfied?”
“Run the story, John.” His boss grinned.
First Clue
Evan fidgeted, waiting to tell Karina his find. She was only a few minutes later than usual, and he had been early. She arrived, wrapped in a heavy coat and fur hat. After exchanging greetings, he spoke, “I read Anna’s letters last night and found something.”
She was curious, as he continued, turning his laptop toward her at the library table. He looked around cautiously, speaking in a soft voice, “Kolchak was on the run at the end of 1920 and he wrote this,” showing her the excerpt on the screen written in hurried script: ‘My dearest Anna, as we discussed together two nights ago, I believe we have lost the war, and we must flee the country. I am making preparations to move to Japan immediately. I take the earliest train possible, which leaves tonight. The trip is not without risk as much of the route to Vladivostok is taken by the Bolsheviks. I will appeal to the American General Graves for protection of me and my staff, but I do not know if he will comply. You cannot join me on this trip due to the danger, which is tearing my heart. You must follow in some days when it is known to my enemies that I have departed Siberia, when the danger with me is over and the train can move more freely. You must never speak of me until we are together again. My love, you do know that I wish to have you with me, but you must not be near during this perilous journey. All is not lost. As we spoke, our future together will be secured, for I have also wealth enough to give court in any country of our choosing ...’ He ends with his usual lines of affection.”
She got it, “He was taking the gold with him on the train. This seems to confirm it.”
It was a major confirmation, the first tangible evidence that the train actually carried the gold. They were both excited by their discovery, but they were not alone. A man standing in a far darkened section of the museum watched
them.
Evan surmised, “We know Kolchak did not complete the trip to Vladivostok. The train was stopped by the Czech Legion the day after he departed, and he was given up to the Reds. All of his staff and military guards were killed, and he was executed eight or nine days later. I think we can believe that history.”
She was thinking ahead of him, “So, what happened to the gold?”
“I’ve been looking into the AEF Army history, not from Russian sources, but from accounts afterward in the States. The U. S. Army was charged with protecting the train and supplies on the train by President Wilson. From what I’ve learned, they did that faithfully over two years from 1918 to 1920. It was their orders not to interfere with the civil war. When the train guard, about a hundred men from the 7th Brigade, allowed the Czechs to take the Russian Whites off of the train, many of the Americans thought it was a cowardly order by their commander and felt they should have protected the Russian soldiers on the train. The Russians were all shot. This man, the commander, later reported that he feared attack by the Czechs if he didn’t give them the Russians, thus he was following his orders. He protected the train and its cargo.”
“So, you think this is proof that the