The Arizona Republican

An Independent Progressive Journal

Phoenix, Arizona, Tuesday Morning, December 9, 1919

Red Terror Of Bolshevism

Most Complete Description
Of Horror of Leninism
Yet Given In Any Language
Captain Jay Alkire of American Red Cross
at Request of Russian Generals Gives
to World a Sickening Narration

(Copyright, 1919, by The Arizona Republican)

S
UCH a description of the crimes, the orgies of Bolshevism, have never before been
printed in the English or any other language. It is conveyed in a letter from Captain
Jay Alkire of the American Red Cross and was sent under seal to his father, J. F.
Alkire, of Phoenix. Other men have had opportunities to see the same things that have
horrified Captain Alkire, but they have not enjoyed the same opportunities to make
disclosure to the world of what they have seen. The newspaper correspondents who have
been attached to Captain Alkire’s contingent have been unable to give an
adequate notion of what was actually happening in the Red Terror.

Early last summer Captain Alkire, who had been serving in France, was dispatched to the
Crimea in charge of a steamer laden with supplies for the suffering people of Russia. He
followed closely upon the Russian armies operating against the Bolsheviki and later was
so closely identified with the army of General Denekin that he frequently entered towns
before the sounds of the bombardment had died away.

He was decorated for his services and was given privileges of observation that have been
accorded to but few.

The Associated Press of last Wednesday carried a story of Captain Alkire In which it was
 Red Terror of Bolshevism

stated that he was occupying the private car which had carried Raboffski, the Bolshevik
fiend, when he spread death through the country, and he was engaged, at the same desk
and with the same pen with which Raboffski had issued countless death warrants, issuing
requisitions for relief supplies.

The account of Captain Alkire was carefully prepared. He tells what he saw and what he
smelled. He says that much was too horrible to be told and much that he has told The
Republican has found advisable to withhold. In extenuation of what appears, it may be
said that the dangers of Bolshevism justify an effort to show what it is.

Karkah. Sept. 3— En Route to Kiev.

This being the head of the first American Mission to the Russian array of all of south
Russia is no big thing, I am here to say. Deal me out on the next one. You know I never
was very strong for all this formal stuff and here I am old man formality himself These
people take me as the representative of the whole United States and I have darn near been
wined, dined and called on to death. Don’t any more than hit a town and the governor of
that province along with the mayor and all the other high officials meet me at the train
and pack me off to the governor’s palace where I am supposed to stay.—but when I don't I
can always beg off that by saying all my things are on my car and 1 would prefer to stay
there. Anyway it means a conference, an interview by the newspaper men and a big
banque that same day and night and then the next day I am toted all over the city in a
machine, call on all the institutions, inspect these, have a formal meal or two, make two or
three speeches, and attend more conferences, etc., without a minute's let-up, and the
same program is continued till I leave, when the whole bunch come down to say goodbye.
It takes about one day to receive the military, all the generals etc., and return their calls.

Had lunch with General Denikin in Tagennog and had moving pictures made with him. By
his order was decorated with the Order of St. Anne by General Minonofsky, the
commanding general of the largest army. Walk around now with the cross dangling on
my chest but hope to get used to it soon for it flops around and bothers me.

Thus far I have been to Novorossissk, Ekatunodar, Stovaropal, Rostoff, Tagenrog,

Kharkoff, Uoltava and will be in Kiev in the morning. Each place has been the same as to
entertainment program, etc.

Following the Bolshevik

Kiev has only been captured from the bolshevic three days, so we will get in there before
they had much of a chance to clean up and suppose will find plenty of evidence of the

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bolshevic having been there.

Thus far we have managed to miss all the excitement, though for a while it looked as
though the bolshevic army was going to recapture Kharkoff They had five divisions or
about 50,000 men driving a sector down our way through the Don Cossack territory but
the closest they ever got was about eighteen to twenty miles, close enough, I will say.

Again today we just missed a show. As all the bridges on the direct line to Kiev have been
blown up by the bolshevic. It was necessary for us to take a round-about route, so finally
we talked the general commanding in the Poltava district into giving us a special engine
and started out. By the way, I might say that while there are hundreds of cars, engines are
as scarce as hen’s teeth. Well, we started out and about half way we stopped at a town for
wood and coal as the engines have been converted into wood burners as there is no coal
to be had. The engineers sent word back by the fireman that while of course he would try
and get us through he was afraid the engine might break down, but if we would give him a
tip of 300 rubles he was quite certain he could get us through. Well, he got the 300 and we
did get through. (I am now writing from Kiev.)

Misssed An Attack

We were scheduled to stop at one town, but when we got close to it we speeded up and
went through on the double quick. Afterwards we were the town was to be attacked
by bolshevic in half an hour. Saw a bunch of machine guns lined up ready for business
and quite a bunch of soldiers. Haven't heard the outcome as yet as news is very slow in
Russia Now, outside of Kiev the Petlura army, though not bolshevic, are opposed to the
volunteer army and are only about sixty miles away. It is not known whether they will
attack and try to take the town or not. Hardly think they will unless they join with the
Polish Red army which is hardly probable.

Oh, this is a great country all right and you don't know one day to the next who will be in
power. It is terrible and I would give anything if a few of our people at home who are
inclined toward bolshevism could see a little of what I have seen. Miles of freight and
passenger cars now just twisted skeletons of steel after they have been burned: millions
of dollars-worth of locomotives.—yes, miles of them wrecked on side tracks; eight
thousand children in one district alone who have been taken from their parents to become
the property of the state, then deserted and left to starve; every factory wrecked beyond
repair; flour here 640 rubles ($12.80) a pound. Oh, that’s just part of it.

Want’s the World to Know

Kiev, 9-6-19.
I'm not a publicity hunter, as you know, but I want this letter or such parts of it as will be
of interest, to go to the paper at home and such others as I may write. I feel that I must
write and get rid of a little steam after all I've seen today. I'm sick at heart and sick at

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 Red Terror of Bolshevism

stomach and I can't go to sleep even now as the air is full of a smell I'll never forget as
long as I live. I've always been proud of being an American citizen, but tonight
I'm ashamed. I'd be ashamed if I were British, French.—In fact, I'd be and am ashamed to
be a citizen of any nation which I called civilized. How we can as Americans, how any
nation, can stand by and let horrors such as are being perpetrated by the
bolshevic continue, is unthinkable and my only solace is that surely you at home don’t
know about it. It is a crime to civilization and if the awful sickness which has Russia in its
grasps is not quickly cured, God help the world. (* * *) I am ashamed for America, for
myself and every civilized man, woman or child in the world. If only I could get what I
know and have seen in every morning paper throughout the world. I would tie glad to
cash in and feel that I had fulfilled my mission in life, for surely an army sufficiently
large to end the reign of terror would make its appearance overnight.

Would Forget It

Every window in my car is closed and it's a pretty sick little bunch of men wearing United
States uniforms who are sitting around in a blue haze in tobacco smoke trying to talk
about anything other than what they have seen today and smell tonight.

Five days ago Kiev was captured by the Volunteer army after a reign of bolshevism since
February 1st and only yesterday and today are the people beginning to find just what that
reign has meant.

We were the second train in, only a few hours after the first and the people yet find it hard
to believe they are free of the reds, that they can go on the streets with any degree of
safety, that two or three may gather in a group to converse without being arrested, that
they can go on the streets after eight o'clock at night—in fact that they are free. They
cannot believe that Trotsky and Rabkoffski are no longer here that the “Cherez ver chica”
are not in full swing, though they never knew what was going on behind the closed doors,
not only of one, but five that have been located to date. They are now beginning to know
what became of four thousand of the city’s most prominent citizens.

The Court Of Torture

The words “Cherez ver Chica” mean “Extraordinary Information Commission,” which the
fact is was the Court of Torture and Death. Here the “Comisars,” those at the head of the
bolshevic movement held forth * * *

One Court according to the records, left behind in their hasty flight * * * handled 148
cases 98 death penalties were imposed and the execution carried forth. This is just a little
over three minutes to a case. The woman, Rosa, acted as judge in one court and has
sentence over 112 Russian officers to death. She now is a prisoner here and tomorrow we
will visit here and get her picture along with many others of the same character. Can you

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 Red Terror of Bolshevism

blame the people for hating them.

If I rave on like this I’ll never get down to facts, so here goes:

General Bradoff, in command of the division of the Volunteer army which took Kiev, now
the military governor, and General Youzayfovich immediately upon learning the
American mission had arrived, asked us to call on them as it was impossible for them to
leave their offices at this critical moment. We talked with them and told them we had a
limited amount of food, medicine and hospital supplies, some five or six freight cars in all.
They could not thank us enough as the supplies were so badly needed. As our freight cars
have not yet arrived and probably will not for a day or so, they asked us if we would
gather information which might be of interest to the outside world with reference to
bolshevic atrocities. We of course said we would, whereupon he placed a military
automobile and a colonel at our disposal. By the way the auto is run on spirits, as there is
no gasoline to be had (a terrible waste of spirits.)

The Cheriex Ver Chica

We first went to the palace of the governor which was one of “Cherez ver Chicas” and
though we had noticed a very peculiar smell ever since we arrived, it became stronger as
we came nearer. We soon tied our handkerchiefs over our noses and I’ll never forget that
smell as long as I live.

It had once been a beautiful residence but now it is only a shell. Bolshevic records are
strewn knee deep on the floors. The furniture is broken and wrecked, the mirrors
shattered fragments; the pictures cut out of their frames and in their places notices of an
unprintable nature or a picture of Trotsky or Lenin; the walls full of bullet holes; the
tapestry and hangings long gone; taken to make dresses for bolshevic prostitutes; the
corners of the rooms in such a filthy condition a pig wouldn’t or couldn’t live in them;
tables, chairs, cabinets, settees overturned and broken to fragments; the little chapel and
altar used for a toilet, stripped of its hangings; the pictures of Christ, Mary and the Saints
torn from their frames and cut to ribbons lying on the floor; the crosses bent and twisted
with other such emblems thrown in a corner. Oh, I can’t describe it as it’s too filthy. Upon
mounting to the next floor the condition was the same, but worse. Here lived the
“Comisars” and high officials. Here it was difficult to move about through the bottles
which had once contained almost every kind of liquor and strange to say, almost

The Hand Of Germany

everyone had a German label. Here I must stop to say that much of the printed matter and
records were in German and in fact the master hand of Germany was visible everywhere.
Even today, quite by accident, we learned of and obtained the address of a German
mission still operating and it didn’t take us long to inform the military authorities who are
now investigating, though I do not know the result as yet. No. 32 University street is the

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 Red Terror of Bolshevism

number, not over ten minutes-walk from where our car is placed. We are told the German
commission operated a “Cherez ver chica” of all their own all during the bolschevic
occupation and quite on the same scale as the others.

But to go back to the palace. Next we went to the ground floor where were located the
cells and prisons. Here room after room with iron gratings were found, as it is a very large
house where were kept the prisoners until they were brought to trial or murdered. There
were about five rooms where the women were kept and while they were prisoners they
served for other purposes indescribable. The filth in these rooms was terrible. There was
the same great quantity of empty bottles, the upholstery torn from all the furniture and
filth indescribable in the corners as they were only allowed to leave their cells for five
minutes each 24 hours. As many as ten and fifteen women were kept in a room twenty feet
square for months at a time. Large dark blotches of dried blood were everywhere. Further
down the hall were the rooms used for imprisoning the men, some eight or ten of these
and as many as forty men kept is some of the larger ones which we would consider only
capable of taking care of ten or twelve. Some of the rooms had boards nailed over the
windows, making dark cells in which they sat for months at a time, never being allowed to
go out. What suffering there must have been.

We were not allowed to go into certain rooms and in the cellar said to be full of bombs or
infernal devices and were cautioned not to touch or handle metal ornaments, cylinder
shaped pieces of metal, or in fact, any such things as they might explode.

The Garden Of Death

And now for the terrible part. The entire house and garden (a garden of about two acres
in extent, I would say) were surrounded by a high brick wall as well as were the smaller
buildings, such as stables, carriage house, etc., and ’twas here the orgies of torture and
murder were held. At first, I am told, executions were made in the garden, but later
transferred to the stable which was prepared in proper shape for a human slaughter
house. In the garden was a tennis court, or what was left of one. An electric light pole and
light was put up to throw plenty of light at night. Here the victims, hands tied, were
forced to kneel and face the firing squad and nightly these executions took place. So told
the old care-taker, and in the morning he had to get fresh sand and cover up the bloody
places. The fact that the shooting caused no excitement was that the people all were
ordered in by eight o’clock at night and it was necessary to close the windows and blinds.
All did not obey and shooting and shots in the streets at night were so common nobody
paid any attention to them. I can’t explain and it doesn’t seem reasonable, but this is the
condition which has existed since February.

A Human Slaughter House

As this method of murder did not prove as successful or as efficient as was required and,
necessitated I presume by the lack of proper facilities, the stable was prepared for a

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human slaughter house. A cement floor was laid which slope to the middle and a trench
was constructed in the center to the sewer so that the floor might not get too messy and
the blood would be carried away without further trouble. Here was done the greater share
of torture murder. Devices of different kinds were installed and God knows I cannot
understand how human beings could do what they did. The walls are splattered with
brains and the whole inside is covered with blood. One favorite way was to tie the victim
hand and foot, place him on the floor face up looking at a heavy weight suspended from
the ceiling. There he or she would lie for several hours awaiting the moment when the
weight would drop and crush their heads. In other instances the eyes were removed from
the sockets, the limbs cut off and in some cases the head severed from the body. There
were other methods of torture practiced on men, too terrible to mention and still others
for women, far worse than death

The Blood Still Fresh

While the last big killing was five nights ago just before they evacuated the city, it is
almost impossible to go inside this place as the floor is so slick with blood, brains and
such that a sure footing is impossible. Some five hundred were killed that night as they
could not be taken away by their captors,—not all, of course, in this one place but in many
places. (Twenty in all it is rumored, though only five have been found as yet.) They are all
on quite the same principle, I am told, though so far I have only visited two but I’ll
continue to describe the one of the governor’s palace.

A short distance from the slaughter house, in the middle of the garden, was dug a great
pit some twenty feet wide by forty or fifty feet long, how deep I don’t know as it has only
been excavated to about the depth of five feet and thus far the bodies of some eighty
victims removed. They were just thrown in and one on top of the other with a sprinkling
of earth, so now as the work progresses parts of the bodies of at least twenty are visible, a
head sticking out here, an arm or leg there, a whole body in view in another place, all
terribly mutilated and of course in a state of decay. From there comes the smell I will
never forget. The air of the entire city is polluted with it as these five places were opened
yesterday and the work of removing and identifying the bodies goes on. You can’t get
away from it and it sis the most awful, sickening smell I know of.

As we approached the place, we tied handkerchiefs around our faces, saturated with a
drug to kill the odor. It would have been impossible to go near otherwise. Around the
enclosure are hundreds of people all with the handkerchief masks, looking for bodies of
their loved ones as they are brought out of the pit.

A line of fire hose has been brought from the nearest hydrant and a shower turned on the
bodies as they are removed, to wash off the dirt and filth in hopes it may be possible to
identify them, while a solid string of wagons of the peculiar Russian type (quite similar to
a hayrack) receive their gruesome load of eight or ten corpses placed on a pile of straw

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and covered with a piece of canvas.

When I arrived there were some thirty or forty lying out on the ground in a line awaiting
wagons to haul them away.

The Horror Filmed

I know it is hard to believe but it is true, as will thousands of witnesses tell you, and as will
the photographs show I am bringing back. Not only this, but we have a moving picture
man with us and he has several thousand feet of film of the entire proceeding which I
hope to God is shown throughout the world to let people know what bolshevism is.

Just think, five hundred murdered in one night, just five nights ago and some four
thousand in all. Oh! it’s terrible,—I can’t write how I feel. I must stop now as I can’t write
more, and going over it all again is quite too much for one day.

I know this letter is disconnected and quite probably half intelligible but you can’t
imagine how I feel about it all and how difficult it is to write.

Kiev, September 7th, 1919.

Today has only been a repetition of yesterday, though I have seen upon what a
stupendous scale the wholesale murder and torture has been conducted. I have visited
many “Chez ver Chicas,” seen hundreds of mutilated bodies, many instruments of torture
and likewise many houses of the comisars, all of which, before having been requisitioned
by the bolshevic were the finest homes of Kiev, (the third largest city of Russia) full of
priceless and beautiful things, but now in such a condition that a pig would be ashamed to
live in them.

The Starving Population

I too know of the actual want and suffering of the starving population and it is terrible not
to be able to help more. What little food there is to be had is beyond the price of the poor,
for example a cup of tea is 260 rubles (about $5.20), a plate of cabbage soup 2200 rubles
(about $16.00), a single pear 200 rubles (about $4.00). Of course these conditions can last
only a few days as there is much to be had only a little way from the city and a few days
will correct this condition.

The shops are of course all closed as the bolshevic took everything long ago. Only a few
owned by the Jews are open as they were not molested. Conditions here this winter will
be terrible as there is no cloth or clothing and no fuel and with several feet of sonow, you
can imagine the rest. I do not know how they are going to get along for with the railroad
transportation, it is going to be next to impossible to get these things in before winter and
even if it were possible, where could they be had? The people have no money to buy them

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with and it is certain other countries will not send them if they are not paid. It is true
there is much bolshevic money out but what good is it? One ruble isn’t worth two cents
here and as far as its rate of exchange is concerned with the outside world, it isn’t worth
the paper it’s printed on. The Denikin government (Volunteer army) will of course issue
new money as the old is by order declared not to be legal tender, but without gold
reserves and without a stable form of government, what good will it be? To give you an
example, a twenty-copeck silver piece—and I’ve only seen one in all Russia—is worth as
many rubles. Before the war, you know, one copeck was one hundredth of a ruble.

Speaking of food conditions, today an old English lady, I would say at least seventy-five
years old, who has had to remain in Kiev during the bolshevic days, came to the car. She
had no money and nothing to eat. I, of course got out a fair supply which I am sending to
her. I had some tea made and with bread and butter we had quite a little lunch. I could
hardly get her to take the things I had selected for she was afraid I wouldn’t have enough
to last till we got out of town, but I finally explained we had a carload of food left and she
accepted them. Her only words were “I’ve been hungry and I know what it is and I don’t
want you to experience it, but if you have this to spare it will be enough till I can hear
from my son.” Of course, she had to cry and, well to tell the truth, I’ll have to admit I came
darn near joining her at least had to blow my nose a few times, as I thought “suppose she
had been my mother, then just how would I feel?”

Another case was that of the widow of a Russian colonel who was killed only ten days ago
by the bolshevic. All she had in money was 450 rubles, which of course are no good now,
and a 20-kopec silver piece. For the silver she bought six cucumbers and on them she and
her two children lived for two days. She came after I had turned over our food supplies to
the committee, so I could only give her a few cans of stuff we were saving for ourselves
and 250 rubles. She didn’t want to take the money as she knew it was a personal gift and
of course pulled a crying stunt and the only way I could get her to take it was to insist it
was for her children and not for herself. She insisted on giving me 250 rubles of bolshevic
money which I’ll keep for a souvenir.

Today I was looking out the window at the crowd on the station platform when suddenly a
man fell over backward. A crowd immediately gathered and I went out to see what was the
matter. He had fainted from hunger. I brought some bread from the car and when he came
to you should have seen him dig into it. The crowd then began to give him money so I
guess he will be all O.K. until things straighten themselves out.

A Pricate Massacre

I have just learned that eight bodies have been found in the garden of the chief bolshevic
comisar. Evidently he had a private grudge or two and ran his own “chrez ver chica” in his
back yard. Nice way to do away with your enemies, isn’t it?

There is a continuous string of people coming on the car and the principal idea of each

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one is to leave here and go to America. Never saw anything like it, anything form a
Russian archbishop who wants to give up his religion and become an Episcopalian in
America to girls who want to get into the moving picture game.

Today there was a money panic and the market was crowded with people trying to sell
bolshevic rubles. The price averaged, as near as I can learn, about three kopecks on the
ruble, so you see it is going to be rather hard with those who only have bolshevic money.

The people of Kiev sure have had a hard time. Just think, eleven changes of government
since the revolution started. Each change meant new kinds of money, new taxes, new
laws, etc. For example, the last bolshevic tax was four hundred million rubles. The tax
wasn’t based on any percentage and whether they happened to take all a person had,
made no difference. If by chance the tax was more than they had, all personal property
was taken and the person then put in jail or killed because the entire amount was not
paid.

Executioners in the Toils

Went to the prison in the afternoon and saw the toughest looking lot of individuals I ever
saw. Amongst them was the famous Rosa who ordered the death of so many Russian
officers; another was a bolshevic general who signed an order for the death of 3,000
officers at one time. There were others almost as bad but I can’t give the details of each
case. I can only thank goodness that while I saw bolshevists of almost every nation or
race in the world, there weren’t any Americans.

News has just come that all the bodies have been taken from the first grave at No. Five
“Chrez ver Chica” and that there were 187 of which seven were women, all terribly
mutilated.

This letter, I know, is rather disconnected, but I’m writing as I have the opportunity and
as things develop.

Our automobile carries an American flag and it is cheered every time we to down the
street. I’ll bet it has rated more salutes from Russians than any other American flag ever
received. Whenever we stop we are immediately the center of attraction and a big crowd
gathers. I don’t like that part of it, as we are rather stared at as some kind of curiosity and,
well I guess we are at that, as we are the first Americans they have seen in uniform.

Nationalization of Women

Learned more of the nationalizing of women and children. A man could marry for any
length of time he wanted—a week or a year, and at the end of that time could either leave
or continue. The same privilege belongs to the women. The children become the property
of the state and not of the parents. Don’t think the practice was generally put into effect,

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as it was one of the last laws passed.

Visited the czar’s palace. Pretty badly wrecked as the bolshevic were using it for the
headquarters of the high commission, but not in such bad shape as many of the other
places. Everything of value has been taken.

Kiev, September 8, 1919

Same old story this morning so won’t write more of it. General Mimiamofski arrived about
noon and as the commanding general and deliverer of Kiev, there was a big
demonstration, etc. The people went wild when he reviewed the troops in the city square.
The ceremony was very impressive as the church enters into it. We had hoped to stay
away, but he sent for us and we had to go through the whole business with him. Took
about two and a half hours. As the last troops marched by the crowd surged in and carried
him away to his car on their shoulders. We escaped to our car, but the crowd turned its
attention to us and we were nearly smothered under the shower of flowers thrown at us.
People would insist on shaking hands and kissing our hands but we finally got away after
five or ten minutes. The next thing was a big banquet which lasted for about three hours.
Everybody made speeches etc., and as the vodka increased, so did the speeches, but as we
were due at the theater at 8:30, the party broke up and we went to see what proved to be
one of the best performances I’ve ever seen.

Many of Russia’s greatest artists fled from Moscow and Petrograd here and have been
forced to remain as, of course, there was no way of leaving after the bolshevic took the
town. Heard several very noted singers and saw a wonderful and beautiful Russian ballet.

Some darn fool had to announce that General Mimiamofski occupied the stage and it all
started over again, flower throwing, etc. After that disturbance they announced that the
American mission occupied the next box and off they went again, more flowers, cheering,
etc., and in all it was about 15 minutes until the show went on again. Don’t like this flower
throwing stuff and felt like an “it” while it was going on, but there was no helping it, I
guess.

Ekaterinoslov, Sept. 11, 1919.

Left Kiev last night on special train arriving here this afternoon. Nothing to write of as yet
except that we ran into a band of either Petlura’s or Mocanau’s men early this morning
who opened fire on the train. Quite lively for a few moments until we passed. Nobody
hurt.

Am now waiting for the mayor to show up and as he is due here in a few moment, will put
this away until later.

Later on the 12th.

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Same old reception committee, etc., regular banquet, tour of city, inspection of
institutions.

On the 13th we had more lunches, etc., turned our stuff over to the commission and in the
afternoon took a boat trip down the river to the falls. Ran on a sand bar coming back and
stuck until nine o’clock in the evening, only reaching the car about eleven.

The 14th and 15th we spent with “Uncle John’s” folks and it is the first taste of home life
we’ve had. How we did enjoy it. “Uncle John” is the attorney general for the sanitary
section of the volunteer army. He has rather adopted me and has made most of the trip
with us. “Aunt Mary” is his cousin and we stayed at her home. You can’t imagine how
good it was to feel at home, do as you pleased and be your real self again for a couple of
days and not an official representative. Never was treated better in my life, made a lot of
friends, and am sure going back the first chance I have.

Left Ekatereneslov on the evening of the 16th for Semeropole, the capital of the Crimea.
Spent all day the 17th on the train and passed through much rich and wonderful territory.
The Russians pronounce Crimea “Cream” and it surely is the cream of Russia. There are
miles and miles of salt beds along the sea of Azof and thousands of tons of salt awaiting
shipment, but of course at the present there is no transportation, consequently the rest of
Russia is without salt.

We spent the 18th in Semperople arranging to go to Yalta. There is no railroad so we go

by auto. Regular official dinner, etc., but will not distribute any supplies until we have
made a survey of the entire Crimea.

Left Semperople about eight-thirty the 19thand arrived at Yalta about four o’clock in the
afternoon. A most beautiful trip and fine roads.

Yalta, 20th to 25th inclusive.

Here we have had our first real rest and believe me I’ve made up for lost sleep, etc.

We were given a very nice five room apartment at the Hotel Russia, the best hotel there,
and have been treated wonderfully. The Crimea is in the best condition of any of the
newly freed part of southern Russia, though the bolshevic only left late in June. The did
not kill many people or destroy much property, particularly in the coast towns as the
English, American and Russian cruisers, destroyer, etc. would have open fire on the towns
if conditions got too bad and they knew it.

Yalta and the coast extending both ways is known as the “Riveria of Russia!” and is quite
correctly named, though it is hard to make a comparison after four years of war and
revolution. The climate is great and scenery beautiful and as all it reminds me much of

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southern California, in fact they are quite similar.

Spent several afternoons on various English cruisers, etc. in the haror and enjoyed it
immensely as it is the first time we have heard English spoken for several months. Also
we heard our first news from the outside world since we came to Russia. We find that
American exchange is the highest it has ever been, some $4.19 for the pound sterling.
That in the English opinion, the U. S. is going to take Mexico, which I hope is true and
much other news. How much is true I don’t know, but to hear something from the outside
is a “great and glorious feeling,” I can tell you.

A Wine Cellar

We visited the Czar’s palace, his estates, etc. One estate has over nine miles of wine
cellars, and about thirteen million bottles of wine. Quite some wine. They insisted we try
at least one kind of wine from each vintage for the past twenty-five or thirty years and
had I not passed through other such experiences it might have resulted disastrously, but
knowing what was coming, I only drank about a teaspoon full from each glass and came
away with flying colors. Their height of hospitality over here and their one desire, I
believe, is to get you drunk and it is quite a scrap to head them off.

Left Yalta the morning of the 26th by auto, arriving at Sebastapol about seven o’clock the
same evening, a fine drive of some ninety versts. Passed through the battlefield of
Balaclaya where the English and Russians had their big fight in 1854 or the Crimean war.
It was there “the noble six hundred” made their charge and which has since become
immortal by “The Charge of the Light Brigade.” The French and Italians have since
fought the Russians over the same ground and there are beautiful memorials erected at
various places on the field by each nation.

Sebastopol An Excellent Seaport

Sebastapol itself is the most wonderful natural seaport I’ve seen. Its fortifications are or
rather were, great before being destroyed by the Russians in their evacuation when the
bolshevic took the palace. The harbor is full of old Russian battleships which remain as a
pitiful monument of what a great nation Russia was and what bolshevism has done to
cripple her. After you see miles of ships tied up along the docks you can realize what an
awful thing this has been for Russia. Sebastapol, as you know, formerly was a great
Russian naval base. Incidentally, I might say that the best thing about Sebastapol was the
fact that we got back in our home once more. Don’t know if I’ll ever know how to live
outside of a railroad coach again and as it has been our home for over two months, you
can bet we were glad to see it again. Remained over the 28th carrying out the usual
program and left for Semperople on the morning of the 29th. Completed our business
there that afternoon and the morning of the 30th left for Ekaterinoslov where we spent
another fine day with “Uncle John” and “Aunt Mary.”

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Pulled out for Rostoff the evening of the 1st and have been here ever since preparing
report of my trip and arranging for the next one which will start as soon as our boat load
of supplies from France arrives. It was supposed to have left the 10th of last month, but so
far we’ve heard nothing of it.

October 6th, 1919.

Have been fooling around here ever since the first trying to get things in shape, etc., and
I’ll be darned if we’ve accomplished anything. As far as red tape, waste of time, etc., I’ll
tell the world these Russians rank first. No wonder they have a revolution.

There really is nothing of interest to write about. I have just been chasing from one
official to the other as they have the buck passing game down to a fine point and though I
thought we Americans good at it, they can back us of the map.

Am leaving for Keslovoshk tomorrow for a few days. Am told it is nice there and might as
well spend my time waiting there as here where the weather is rotten. Keslovoshk is
Russia’s most famous watering place and the source of “Narazan” water, the most
delightful table water I ever tasted. It’s what I have been drinking ever since I hit Russia
as you know you are only supposed to drink either bottled water or boiled water and I
can’t say I’m very fond of the boiled variety. Will write from Kestovoshk.

October 14th, 1919.

Here we have been all week and a most beautiful little place it is, located in a small valley
amongst the foothills of the Caucasus. It has a most beautiful setting, the hills are
covered with woods and the leaves are beginning to turn. The air is wonderful and
reminds us much of Iron Springs. * * *

Met many nice people here and hope to return again some day.

As far as news is concerned there is nothing to write of so I’ll wait till I return to Rostoff
before writing more. Hope to be able to find some one going to Constantinople who will
mail this letter for me. Leave tomorrow evening.

October 25th, 1919.

* * * Now for the bad news. I just got a letter from Major Dexter, the head of the
commission, saying that Paris cabled that the boat would not arrive until about December
1st and that it would come to Sebastopol (in the Crimea). Further that they would not
release any personnel until the Russian job was complete, all of which means I’m stuck
here until the job is finished, which will be, providing the boat arrives December 1st, until
about January 1st to 15th. Afterward it will take until about February 1st to get to Paris
and with all the red tape, delay, etc., it will be another month or about March 1st, before I

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get home, so there you are.

Well, I don’t want to write any more now and besides, if I’m going to get this off by a man
who is going to Constantinople this evening I’ll have to be getting it over to him. Don’t
worry about me, for I am all O. K. now and will continue to remain so. Gee, how I’d like to
hear from some of you, for it has been since before July 5th, I’ve had a letter. * * *

Article transcribed from the “The Arizona Republican” – Phoenix, Arizona, Tuesday
Morning, December 9, 1920.

Source:
Arizona_republican_Phoenix_Ariz_19191209 (Page 1).jpg
Arizona_republican_Phoenix_Ariz_19191209 (Page 2).jpg

http://azmemory.azlibrary.gov/cdm/compoundobject/collection/sn84020558/id/11094
4/rec/1

Captain Alkire was the head of the American Red Cross mission of 8 or 10 men that
departed from France by steamer to provide medical aid to areas under control of the
Volunteer army in southern Russia in June of 1919. More on these preparations in another
article.

His immediate superiors were Major Edwin G. Dexter and Colonel Clarence B. Smith.

Author’s full name is Captain Josiah (Jay) Franklin Alkire, a resident of Phoenix, Arizona,
1891-1951.

His father is misnamed in the beginning of this article as “J. F. Alkire.” His father is Frank
Tomlin Alkire.

I wonder where “ * * * ” appears in the original article if it indicates redacted text?

Note: The Russian “General Mimiamofski” is another spelling error as frequently

happens in Russian to English conversion of proper names. The correct name is General
Vladimir Zenonovich May-Mayevsky (Russian: Влади́мир Зено́нович Май-Мае́вский)
(September 15, 1867 – November 30, 1920)

General ‘Denikin’ referred to as ‘Denekin’ or ‘Denekine’ (or in other articles) by Captain

Alkire. Minor variations in location names noted.

A few minor common word misspellings corrected likely due to the newspaper typesetter.
Other misspellings allowed to stand (comisar, etc.).

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He mentioned the presence of other United States troops in a derogatory fashion. I

wonder if they were part of General Edgar Jadwin’s (army engineer) accompaniment
when he visited in middle September to early (?) October of 1919. He was in France in
early 1919 and Woodrow Wilson ordered him along with Henry Morgenthau to Poland in
July and August 1919 to investigate the plight (persecution) of the Jews caused by the
resentment by the Poles to the Jews exercising advantages on the postwar population.
After this investigation he departed for the Ukraine to observe the findings of Denikin’s
appointed commission to Kiev headed by a Russian general and his staff for investigating
war crimes by the departed Bolsheviks. Alkire, undoubtedly, could have said more, and if
it was not for his hometown paper and family, this much of his story would never have
seen the light of day.

Alkire’s newspaper articles are very valuable, although few, as they are in the English
language, constitute first-hand knowledge in an official capacity, and delivered in a no-
nonsense, straight-forward manner of a man who put his country and kindred people
first.

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