Later on my soldier admitted that he agreed with the Russian in a diatribe against the United States, but that he had done so for the purpose of drawing the other fellow out and getting his ideas. He excused his telling me that the conversation had been of a nature that could not interest me because he did not think I was interested in knowing that this particular Russian regarded the United States as a nation of capitalists, and as such the enemy of all Russians. And all the time these Russians continued to smile and bow and assure us of their friendship and their appreciation of what the United States was trying to do to reunite Russia and build it up as a democratic nation. In fact, the Allies in Siberia have been surrounded by an army without uniforms or other visible military equipment, without any apparent machinery of organization. This army has the ability to vanish without being missed, to reassemble when and where it chooses, to set up a front if it so desires, or, if it sees fit, to dissolve again, concealing itself once more under the wings of the very host which is seeking to overcome it. To a very large extent it is an army of passive resistance. This vanishing army entered the cities occupied by the Allies, and, in the guise of refugees, or “loyal” Russians, received food, clothing and shelter. Under the protection of the Allied guns, it spent the period of bitter cold weather in comfort, perfecting its plans for the on-coming Spring, carrying on its propaganda of hostility against the Interventionists, and mingling with the troops which had come half way round the world to render it harmless. The Bolshevists are operating with a strategy of organized disorder. Their vanishing army acquires weapons by various methods. A truck-load of Kolchak’s machine-guns at Omsk disappeared while in transit from one barracks to another, and the men who were making the transfer dropped from sight. Some of our own officers and soldiers know how the Bolsheviki added to their own supply of pistols. It has been estimated that ten per cent. of the American officers traveling with orderlies had their automatics either taken by stealth or snatched from the holsters in crowded railroad stations. One of these officers expostulated with a thief. “Here!” he shouted. “That’s my gun!” “Well, you’re wrong,” was the reply in good English; “it’s mine, and you’d better not start any trouble here.” It seemed good advice. One story going the rounds is to the effect that an American officer of high rank, while pushing his way through a jam of people in a station, followed by his orderly, was startled by a cry from the latter. His pistol was gone! “Gone!” said the officer, crossly. “You ought to know better than to lose your gun! Where did you wear it?” Meekly the orderly indicated the position of his holster on his right hip.