Siberia (Russia); Siberia (Russia) -- Description and travel
XXVIII. THE UNITED STATES IN ASIA 316
ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING
PAGE
Siberian Types--When They Smile Less and Think More
They Will Find Freedom _Frontispiece_
The American Army Mules Arrive in Vladivostok for Duty 24
Street Service in Vladivostok with Bay in Distance 24
An American Doughboy Helping Make Siberia “Safe for Democracy” 48
Night View of Vladivostok Harbor from Hill of City 48
Russian Soldiers Clearing the Track After a Wreck on the
Trans-Siberian 100
Japanese Officers Talking with an American Officer 100
Ataman Semenoff, Chief of the Trans-Baikal Cossacks 158
Mongol and Tartar Descendants of Conquering Hordes with 1919
Model “Cars” 158
Siberians Celebrating the Signing of the Armistice 200
Room in House at Ekaterinburg where Czar and His Family are
Reputed to Have Been Executed 200
An Example of Carving on a Typical Siberian House 230
Typical Russian Church in Cities of Siberia 230
Some American Railroad Men of the “Russian Railway Service” 250
Washing Clothes in Sixty-below-zero Weather 250
SIBERIA TO-DAY
I
EXILED TO SIBERIA
“Let me see your palm!”
A smiling major thus accosted me in the offices of the Military
Intelligence Division of the General Staff of the army in Washington
the latter part of July, 1918.
The weather was hot as Billy-be Hanged--hotter than I had ever known it
in the Philippines, or so it seemed. It was hotter than the roadstead
of Singapore, hotter than the mud-baked streets of Suez City, hotter
than Malacca Strait.
In former times of tropical soldiering, I had seen commanding generals
working in their undershirts. But a new discipline pervaded our new
army, and we were imitating the Prussian system, and doing our best to
look and work as secretly as possible in uniform coats with high stiff
collars. We realized that the more uncomfortable we might feel, the
quicker the war would be won in France.
I gave my limp and perspiring hand to the smiling major. I suspected
that his pleasantry meant that I had been selected to pay for the
dinner that night of our own particular little group of plotters
against the Imperial German Government and its agents in the United
States.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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