The Stone Horse & Droshki

During my second day at the 1995 Paris International Air Show I devoted the morning hours to viewing several of the world’s newest aircraft on display on the Orly Field ramps. In the afternoon and evening I wandered through the static commercial and military aviation displays and their associated hospitality rooms in the Convention Center. My employer, the International Aviation Bimonthly, had assigned me the delightful task of covering this year’s grandiose aviation event. This showcase of civilian and military aircraft allowed me the opportunity to chat with some of the world’s greatest pilots and to visit with imaginative aircraft designers and meet several of aviation’s top executives.

Unfortunately, by late evening when I should have been able to sleep, I could not! As the nightstand clock rolled over to 1 a.m., I was tossing and turning in my hotel bed, my mind busy sifting through the happenings of the day. From past experience I knew a glass of milk and a light snack might turn my restlessness into sleep. I therefore dressed and hurried down to the hotel restaurant where I unhappily discovered the food service section was closed. A night bellhop directed me to the hotel’s cocktail lounge, where he stated one could find refreshments other than hard liquor.

Entering the lounge, I noted the room was jammed full of noisy revelers. I edged my way through the crowd to the bar where luckily, I caught the bartender’s attention. I promptly ordered, in fractured French, a glass of milk and a package of cookies which I spotted hanging on a rack above the back bar. Just as the bartender turned to fill my order an older man astride a nearby stool looked up at me and in a voice drenched in sarcasm said, Sure you can handle a whole glass of that cow juice…Mister De Villers?

I noted he had thick silver-grey hair and was wearing a U.S. Air Force blue nylon flight jacket. Looking closely at him I recalled that he was the Father of Major Eric Minnerly, the pilot who flew lead position in the US Air Force’s Thunderbird Precision Flying Team. Only yesterday I had interviewed the Major in preparation for a future Thunderbird article and after our session was over, he had introduced me to his father, Albert Al Minnerly, a visitor at the air show.

The elder Minnerly motioned for me to join him and I slid onto an empty stool next to his just as the bartender headed our way with my milk and cookies. Without any further comment my new acquaintance proceeded to recite his life story, in a somewhat abridged version. He was a former US Air Force Colonel, who had flown fighters in the Korean and Vietnam War. Retired after twenty-five years of military service he then had piloted Boeing 727s for Northwest airlines.

As he rambled along, I noted he was slurring his words and looked to be on the edge of intoxication. I finished my snack as he talked and was about to get up and leave when he suddenly stopped chattering about his flying careers. With a pleading look on his face he whispered, Say…Mister Reporter, tell me…did you happen to see that Russian bomber…when it landed this evening? Do you, by any chance know anything about…eh…about the pilot of that bomber?

I told him that I was aware the plane had flown around the world in less than eighteen hours, which was a record-breaking accomplishment and that I heard the pilot was a three star Russian general.

Minnerly paused to down the remainder of his drink as I continued, I saw a news clip on French TV…of the Russian bomber landing, but I didn’t see any of the aircrew! Ah..., I’m scheduled to attend a press conference tomorrow…that’s been set up for western reporters…and we’ll all get a chance to question the air crew then!

I noticed he wasn’t listening; instead he was waving his arm lamely while trying to get the attention of the bartender. Glancing at my watch I realized the press conference was actually today, as it was now nearly two in the morning! Finally, he acknowledged with a curt mumble, his expression was one of disappointment. Without further comment he slowly slid his stool closer to me, while his eyes surveyed the patrons in our immediate area. Then seemingly satisfied that we would not be overheard, he began to speak in a near whisper.

Listen pal! There’s something about that Russian pilot…which is awfully bizarre!

Despite my undisguised lack of interest, he went on, This morning on the Frenchie TV they gave a report about the Russian’s and their attempted around the world flight, which included a short piece on the Tu-160’s four-man crew. Well sonny…I damn nearly shit in my pants when I saw their pilot! Hells bells…this guy was the spitting image of a Second Lieutenant I knew way back during the Korean War!

A smile crossed his face when he observed the bartender heading in our direction. Yeah…It had been my damn misfortune to know that asshole…at Randolph Field, and later in Korea. In Frozen Chosen…the pilots and ground crews dubbed him Big Chief Little Wuff-Wuff. The man was a full-blooded Sioux Indian…you know! I think…from some damn Indian Reservation in the Dakota’s.

He paused to give the bartender his order and appeared annoyed when I declined a drink.

I grew up in Shawano, Wisconsin…which is near the Menominee Indian Reservation! Well pal…I learned early in life that there’s not one Reservation Indian who ever amounted to a tinker’s damn! That fellow…Big Chief Little Wuff-Wuff was an arrogant bastard… who…who had a knack of rubbing me the wrong way. My long dead daddy always said one should never trust any of those red bastards! Nor turn your back on those shifty no-goods!

I noted his eyes had a far away look; his expression seemed filled with hate. I wiggled uncomfortably in my chair as I speculated, in my mind, as to why this old aviator would harbor such hostility. As he continued this now one-way conversation, he seemed unconcerned whether I was listening or not. "The last I ever heard of Joseph Little Wolf…which was his real name by the way…was that he had been killed in a crash around Memorial Day of 1962. Shit, I remember well that the year was 1962…because at the time I commanded an F-100 Fighter Group at Hill Air Force Base. Anyway…in mid October my unit was sent to Homestead Air Force Base…in Florida. This…this was during the early days of the Cuban Missile Crisis!

Anyhow…while at Homestead, I ran into an old buddy from Korea. We had a couple of drinks together and he told me about a plane crash into Lake Superior near Duluth…which had happened on Memorial Day weekend. He related that the unlucky bastard who was killed in that crash…was a Major whom we both knew in Korea. It was my pain-in-the-ass Big Chief Little Wuff-Wuff who had bought the farm that day.

Minnerly quickly gulped down a third of his freshly filled glass of brandy and water and then he nervously continued his narrative.

You know…something else that was damn peculiar…that Russian Tu-160 has a big wolf head painted on both sides of its nose! Hell…that logo made me think all the more about that ass-hole Indian!

I knew the Tu-160 had taken off early in the morning and had electrified the aviation world with a flawless record setting flight around the globe. Media accounts of this flight would make worldwide headlines in the morning newspapers and television news.

"Hell…during the rest of the day I just couldn’t get over the notion that I’d seen that bastard before! I watched the bombers progress reports on the Air Show’s computer terminals and by early evening Orly’s Flight Operations was projecting the Tu-160 would land at Orly around 2300. Even though I was tired, near the appointed time…I parked my ass along the fence outside the Tu-160s parking area. I was only a couple hundred feet from the plane as it parked and shut down its engines.

There was about a twenty-minute wait…taken up by local French television coverage…and a lot of back slapping by Air Show officials! Finally, the flight crew and a few of their ground staff began walking towards the vehicle parking area…which was right behind me. The ramp was illuminated bright as mid-day by portable arc-lights and shit, I…I, damn near had heart failure when that Russian pilot strolled past!

Minnerly’s face looked charged with excitement; his eyes had a wild look. He leaned close to me, his face only a few inches from mine, his breath reeked of brandy! Shit…that Russian sure resembled the big Indian I knew in Korea! His hair was completely grey…his complexion had a red tone…just like our American Indian’s. He was a tall bastard, well over six feet…just like Little Wolf

Minnerly’s eyes had a wild look as he went on, Oh say…did I tell you Little Wolf looked a bit like that movie actor Victor Mature? Victor Mature, if you don’t remember, was a Hollywood leading man in the forties and fifties! Remember the movie Samson and Delilah…with Victor Mature and Hedy Lamarr? Oh, shit…I’m wandering off the subject!

He grinned and mumbled, Well sir…the Russian General also looked like that actor fellow. Yeah…he was a carbon copy of Little Wolf! Only a hell of a lot older! Anyway…as he passed me…I called out to him.

Minnerly’s hands were trembling. He was about two steps beyond me as I yelled out his name! Shit…the man stopped dead in his tracks and turned toward my voice…and he looked straight at me. For a moment I thought he would say something. But no…instead he turned away and without any acknowledgement resumed walking towards their bus in the parking lot!

Minnerly looked frustrated, For damn sure…his eyes had focused on me, but gave no hint of recognition! Maybe…my calling out the name Joe Little Wolf set off some bells in his brain! Otherwise…why would he have turned to look at me? He took another big gulp of his drink.

Hells bells…if this old fart’s eyes and memory are worth a shit…this fellow is a dead ringer for that big Indian…of long ago! Either that or he’s some sort of reincarnation! Shit…but for the life of me I can’t figure how this apparition of Little Wolf… could still be flying, and flying mind you…in one of the worlds hottest aircraft!

His face now took on a look of dejection and he stared coldly at his drink.

Could it be my bored friend that we each have a look-a-like out there somewhere? Seeing this ghost from my past shook the hell out of me…and like some nit-wit I ended up at this bar. As you can see…this old fart is getting stinking drunk…over some stupid old war memory!

He signed and shrugged his shoulders and for the first time since I sat down, he remained quiet. I was bone tired and to rid myself of this pest I said in a kindly tone, Al…when I’m at the Press Conference, I’ll ask your Russian General if he ever head of an American by the name of Joseph Little Wolf!

I tried to sound sympathetic, hoping my promise would pacify the man. He gazed into his empty glass and mumbled several incoherent words. Since he had talked nearly non-stop during our chance meeting and I took his welcome silence as my golden opportunity to escape his ramblings. Without another word I slipped silently away from the bar and returned to my room and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. The time was about 3:00 a.m.

Shortly after lunch I joined a group of some fifty reporters in the Orly Field Conference Room. Promptly at 1:00 p.m. a stout uniformed Russian Colonel began the press briefing. The Colonel, who spoke excellent English, passed out information sheets containing a brief outline of the flight crew’s military careers.

The data on the pilot, Colonel General Yuri Danilov, emphasized that he was one of the most experienced pilots in the Russian Air Defense Forces. The resume stated that Danilov had been the Soviet Union’s most decorated airman in the nearly ten-year Afghan War. During his four years in Afghanistan he had flown four hundred and eighty combat missions. Yuri Danilov was born in Kiev, in the Ukraine and had elected to remain with the Russian Air Forces after the break-up of the Soviet Union. He presently commanded the Russian Air Defense Forces in the Far Eastern Theater.

Several minutes later the four-man aircrew arrived and the Colonel introduced them to the assembly of English-speaking reporters. I was surprised to see the General was not in a dress uniform with his numerous decorations and medals displayed as everyone in the room expected. Instead, he wore plain grey flight fatigues with his Colonel General stars embroidered on each lapel. Stitched on his right chest pocket was an emblem patch of the Russian national flag. The other three crewmen were also dressed in grey flight fatigues.

I noted the Colonel General was a big man, tall and muscular and appeared very fit. The interview session with the flight crew progressed slowly. All questions and responses were directed through a young very attractive, uniformed, female Russian military translator. She explained that the flight crew had limited knowledge of English and thus their preference was to speak Russian. During the next two hours the Colonel General answered a multitude of questions relative to their Tu-160’s record breaking flight.

His responses were frank and friendly. I thought his candid remarks were unique, as I recalled that in previous dealings with Soviet and Russian military officers most were reluctant to speak openly. From my perspective the General appeared to impress this assortment of reporters with his knowledge of flying, world history, humor and purposeful charm. His crew members seemed less at ease and were more formal when questioned.

In the back of my mind floated the memory of Al Minnerly’s early morning tale. I noted Yuri Danilov’s face featured high cheek bones and he had a dark mahogany complexion. I knew this Mongolian coloring was typical of the ethic peoples in the Eastern Siberian regions of Russia. However, the briefing paper stated Yuri Danilov was Ukrainian by birth! The Ukraine is in the European region of the old Soviet Empire and I mused Ukrainian’s would ordinarily have the light skin texture one associates with the Slavic nationalities of the European populace.

The supposition filtered through my mind that American Indians also had these same Siberian-Mongolian type facial features. In the United States, Yuri Danilov would have easily passed for a Native American. I also noted he had a slight resemblance to the movie actor Victor Mature.

About 3:30 the Colonel announced that our interview session was now concluded. It was apparent to me that General Danilov was one of those rare individuals who lived his life on what is termed The Hairy Leading Edge! His seemingly fearless personality ran in parallel with our American Astronauts and our top gun fighter jocks.

After the room had nearly cleared of reporters, I decided to pose the question which had been running through my brain since the start of the interview session. I noted the General was near the front of the room chatting with several of the Russian staff. I approached the pretty translator, who was alone on my side of the room, and with a beaming smile and a gentlemanly tone of voice I said, Miss…congratulations! You certainly have a remarkable command of the English language!

She smiled graciously as I continued, Miss…could you please do me a great favor? Could you be so kind as to ask the General…if he has ever heard of an American pilot named…Joseph Little Wolf? I feel a little foolish to ask you to do this…but it’s extremely important! I promised a friend, who is probably ill right now…that I would ask the General this question!

The young woman looked oddly at me for a moment as I pushed on, This American pilot was named Joseph Little Wolf. He…he was a Sioux Indian…and has been dead many years.

She smiled pleasantly and without any comment nodded her head in agreement and turning she walked over to the General. I noted General Danilov was smiling as she began to speak to him quietly in Russian, then abruptly his smile evaporated. He turned to stare at me, his eyes seeming to penetrate right through me. I felt very uncomfortable.

He looked hard at me for several long seconds and then turned to speak quietly to the woman. A few moments later she hurried back to my side. I noticed she appeared somewhat flustered!

General Danilov…desires to know your name?

As she relayed this request, I noted the General was making no effort to approach me, nor did he indicate in any manner that I should draw near.

Miss…my name is Ken De Villers. I’m the Feature Editor of the International Aviation Bimonthly!

I handed her my business card, which she accepted without comment and then spun quickly around and hurried back to the General. She spoke softly as she handed him my business card. He seemed to study the card closely for a few moments. I noted his expression appeared to be one of uncertainty. Then he spoke rapidly to her and with a glance in my direction he gave me a formal nod of his head and turning away he walked out of the room. The young woman glanced over at me with a sad hopeless expression on her face, and then with a shrug of her shoulders she also retreated from the room.

Thus, ended my half-hearted attempt at finding some resolution to the ramblings I had heard in the hotel bar early this morning. Late in the afternoon I checked with the Hotel Desk Clerk hoping to locate my late-night acquaintance. I discovered that Minnerly had checked out before noon. Satisfying my inquisitive mind, I theorized that his story had been pure fantasy, no doubt influenced by his heavy drinking.

Later that evening, while typing my Tu-160 story on my lap top computer, my room telephone rang. From the sound of his voice I recognized the caller as the pudgy Russian Colonel who had conducted the press interview this afternoon. He immediately identified himself as Colonel Andrei Petrov, an Aid de Camp to the General.

Mr. De Villers… General Danilov has asked me to speak with you…regarding your inquiry about an American pilot!

He paused only a second and continued, "My General is willing to entertain a future dialogue with you…in regard to Mr. Joseph Little Wolf. Let me say…that hypothetically one could conclude these two men might have materialized from the womb of the same birth Mother! General Danilov has ordered me to make no further comments about the Joseph Little Wolf matter.

"In reviewing your business card…the General acknowledges that you are one of the aviation writers whom he is familiar with. He mentioned…that he has read and enjoyed several of your military aircraft technical articles!

Now…Mr. De Villers…to come directly to the point of this telephone call. My General wishes to know if you have any interest in authoring an autobiography about his life experiences. I personally assure you…that his testimony would be most interesting and informative…to American and Russian readers.

He chuckled softly and before I could comment he added, "I’m certain you will discover his recollections challenge many past political and military historical events. He was a first-hand witness to several major Cold War episodes. The General can relate our sides version of the 1960 U-2 Spy Plane downing, the 1962 Cuban missile Crisis, the Vietnam Conflict, the 1983 shoot-down of KAL 007 and of course our long war in Afghanistan. His views are through the eyes of a Soviet military pilot and command officer…and I’m sure they offer a new prospective on those happenings.

"In the days of our Russian Tsar’s, the average peasant seldom traveled more than a few kilometers beyond his home villages…in his entire lifetime! There’s an Old Russian adage about strangers…who come to visit the village from outside the home region. It is said, everyone in the village should listen with both ears…to the words of a stranger who has drunk the waters of many different wells!

Writing about those different wells in my General’s lifetime, assuming you choose to help him in this project, conceivably may present some difficulties! Your American CIA might try to suppress his narrative…they may allege there are national security implications raised in his memoirs!

He paused for a moment then with a serious tone said, Recent circumstances involving his health, dictate that his story needs to be brought forward at this time.

My response was to ask if the General Danilov was ill, however the Colonel didn’t answer my question.

My General and his Tu-160 will depart from Orly Field within the next hour. Several days from now we will be back at our headquarters near Khabarovsk…in Far Eastern Siberia. If you have an interest in learning about your Joseph Little Wolf…and of course about this writing proposition…please contact me. I am the General’s confidante and can assist in making travel and security arrangements for you. However, you must agree to meet him…in Khabarovsk. You’re U.S. Embassy Liaison Office in Vladivostok can help you establish telephone communications with my office.

Petrov asked that our discussion remain confidential until I had an opportunity to discuss these matters with the General. I acknowledged that I would keep our conversation to myself and with that said Petrov concluded what had been a nearly one-way conversation. As I hung up the phone, my brain started racing. His statement about the womb, that perchance they had the same Mother caused me to immediately recall the American Civil War stories of brother fighting brother, of one brother wearing the Confederate grey and the other the Union blue. My imagination also ran wild over the mention of national security implications!

My third and last day at the Air Show was uneventful. I found it difficult to keep my full attention on Air Show matters, my brain continued to churn over this now highly amplified barroom tale.

Two days later I was back at work in my office in Seattle. After polishing off some immediate job-related duties I decided to conduct my own background investigation of this Russian enigma and possible writing project. I was not fully persuaded, at this point in time, that I had sufficient information about General Danilov to agree to work with him on his memoirs project. I also had some reservations about my writing abilities! Was I endowed with the skills needed to author something longer than a few thousand-word magazine article?

I sent an E Mail request to an old friend, who worked in the Associated Press Office in Moscow, asking him to check into the personal history of this perplexing puzzle, General Yuri Danilov.

I recalled that Al Minnerly had said that Joseph Little Wolf had been killed on the Memorial Day weekend of 1962 in a Lake Superior crash. I was hopeful the Duluth News Tribune and Herald might have in their old news files an article about the accident; therefore, I faxed a request for their morgue clippings of the event.

That same evening, I telephoned a retired newspaper friend in St. Louis and asked him to check the military records of Air Force Officer Joseph Little Wolf at the National Personnel Records Center, in his city. In this huge government record center are deposited the service records of all former military servicemen, living and deceased.

Several days later I received a fax from my Associated Press friend in Moscow. The contents were disappointing as the nitty-gritty details of the General’s career were nearly nonexistent. He reported that Yuri Danilov was the son of a former Soviet Communist Party Central Committee Member and because of these past political affiliations the present Russian bureaucrats were keeping a tight lid on his military records.

From the short synopsis I learned Yuri Danilov had been in the Soviet Air Army since the mid 1950’s. Strangely his career was spent in seemingly relative obscurity with most of his military service, except for his Afghanistan tour, had been in the Soviet Far East. In 1982 he was named commander of all the Soviet air units in the Afghanistan theater. He was twice awarded the USSR’s highest medal, The Order of Victory, during this conflict.

Yuri was the son of Soviet Marshal Ivan Mikhailovich Danilov, who was a brilliant Red Army Commander who served under Marshal Georgi K. Zhukov during the early days of the Second World War. It was Ivan Danilov and his Siberian 2nd Guards Army which crushed the German counter attack during the final Battle of Stalingrad. His forces later drove the Germans out of the Ukraine and it was Marshal Danilov who accepted the Germans surrender of Romania. In 1957, Marshal Ivan Danilov was named by Nikita Khrushchev to replace Marshal Zhukov as Soviet Defense Minister. Ivan Danilov was a full member of the Central Committee for over eleven years. In 1967 the Marshal died of natural causes.

Several days later I received the Duluth News Tribune and Herald morgue clippings which reported the details of a May 31, 1962 aircraft crash. On that date US Air Force Major Joseph Little Wolf was flying a training mission out of the K.I. Sawyer Air Force Base near Marquette, Michigan. His plane apparently sustained an engine failure and crashed into Lake Superior north of the Outer Island of the Apostle Island chain. There had been no eyewitness to the crash, however some debris from the aircraft was found floating in the area. The body of Major Little Wolf was never recovered and authorities concluded the pilot went down with the aircraft. The Coast Guard determined the crash site was in an area of the lake where the water was over twelve hundred feet deep, thus no major effort had been made to recover the aircraft wreckage or the pilot’s body.

The information I received from my friend in St. Louis was also puzzling. I learned the service record files of Major Joseph Little Wolf had been removed by the Central Intelligence Agency in October of 1985. The only item found in his personnel file was a form signed by Toby Bittle, an agent from the CIA Investigative Division. This latest news was disturbing and opened additional avenues of speculation in my mind.

I decided to make a second effort at viewing Joseph Little Wolf’s military records, thus I telephoned a former news associate who now worked at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia. When I mentioned the name Toby Bittle the voice on the telephone turned strangely quiet! After a full minute of total silence, during which I heard him catch his breath, he responded with a nervous laugh!

Listen…old pal…. ah…Toby Bittle was one of the operative names often used by Aldrich Ames…when he was on CIA assignments!

I knew Ames, a former CIA agent, was an identified, confessed and convicted American traitor. I attempted to push for more details, but he quickly responded in a shrill voice, "Shit man…if I give you any more, I’ll soon be joining him in his federal prison cell! I shouldn’t have told you what I just did about Ames! That…that bastard has caused lots of hell to pay around this place!

His response sounded very final! At this point it was unmistakable; the only person who could answer my many questions was General Yuri Danilov. I was now convinced that I dare not allow this intriguing riddle to get away from me. This seemingly inconspicuous Russian General held the pieces needed to understand what had started as a drunkard’s barroom tale!

During the next two weeks I spent several hours on the telephone with Colonel Andrei Petrov discussing arrangements for my trip and financial aspects of the project. Much to my surprise General Danilov agreed to advance my travel expenses. I convinced my employer to grant me a thirty day leave of absence, which hopefully would provide sufficient time to work on the basic outline of his autobiography.

In early September, I arrived at the regional airport outside the City of Khabarovsk, in Eastern Siberia. My flight from Tokyo was on an Aeroflot Yak-42, a three engine passenger aircraft similar to the Boeing 727. After hearing many horror stories about Aeroflot, I was pleasantly surprised with the aircraft and its crew.

I was met at the airport by Colonel Andrei Petrov and quickly discovered him to be warm and friendly. He had a perpetual smile which lit up his round Mongolian face from ear to ear. We left the airport traveling in a Russian military Ulanjov, which looks much like an American jeep. Our trip to the Khabarovsk Air Base took nearly an hour and after passing through several gates, at this highly guarded military airfield, Petrov ordered our driver to stop our vehicle near the end of the main runway. He turned and with a chuckle in his voice said, General Danilov is presently flying…but should return shortly!

While we waited, I raised several questions about the General, but Petrov turned each of my requests aside with inquiries of his own about my trip and of life in America. At one point he mentioned he had served with the General for over twenty years. Fifteen minutes passed, then Petrov who had been watching the sky intently pointed to a small speck barely visible far off in the northern sky. The image soon turned into a plane which grew larger as it streaked towards us. A few seconds later the plane was racing across the airfield, in our direction, at an altitude of about a hundred feet. As it came closer the sound of its twin jet turbofan engines became deafening and when it roared directly overhead the air pressure from the plane enveloped us and our Ulanjoy seemed to rock slightly. The plane was so low and close that the three of us in the vehicle instinctively ducked our heads.

I recognized the aircraft to be a Sukhoi Su-27 Flanker. On the nose of the aircraft was painted the head of a wolf, similar to the wolf head logo on the nose of the Tu-160 at the Paris Air Show.

Petrov laughed and then shouted above the diminishing roar, Don’t…don’t be alarmed my friend! Our General is just giving you one of our Siberian people’s greetings!

He then gently patted my shoulder and flashed a wide grin. As soon as the plane had streaked away, he spoke to the driver, in Russian, and the man started the vehicle and we drove away. A few minutes later we were left off in front of a long three story dreary looking concrete office building.

Mister De Villers…this is our Headquarters, the headquarters of our Far East Russian Air Force. Ah…General Danilov will be along shortly!

We waited for about twenty minutes in the sparsely furnished entrance lobby until a stone-faced female military clerk appeared and then silently ushered us into a large office at the rear of the building. I noted the walls of the room were nearly bare except for a picture of President Boris Yeltsin and a huge world map. The furniture in the room was Spartan.

Abruptly a second door swung open and stepping into the room was the justification for my traveling this long distance. The General was still dressed in his flight pressure suit. Stopping momentarily, he stared at me, his face expressionless, then without comment he moved across the room and quietly closed the door. It was at this point that I realized my escort, Colonel Petrov, had left. For what seemed like a full minute the room was deadly silent.

I observed the General looked thinner and appeared fatigued, quiet unlike his appearance at the Paris Air Show which was now some seven weeks ago. His hazel eyes remained fixed on me and suddenly I felt permeated with a sense of misgiving. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. Finally, his eyes softened and what seemed like a secret smile appeared on his face.

Good afternoon…Mister De Villers! I hope you had a pleasurable journey from Seattle to our humble airfield. Welcome to our beautiful…our…our… wild Eastern Siberia! We, the natives…call this place…the far end of the earth! Here you will find the true embodiment of our great Russian people…and our Motherland!

The General spoke in flawless English, what I though sounded like a nearly perfect Midwest accent. He moved from behind the desk and stepped directly in front of me and snapped his frame to a stiff military position of attention. He then extended his hand in greeting.

Mister De Villers…my full name is Yuri Dennisovich Danilov!

He grinned as he emphasized his middle name, his patronymic name (the name derived from that of the Father or paternal ancestor).

My father was Dennis Little Wolf…he was a full-blooded Oglala Sioux…born on the White Earth Indian Reservation of America!

What follows is a chronicle of an extraordinary man.

Ken De Villers

Chapter 1: The Children of the October Revolution

My mother, Anna Mikhailovna Danilov, was born in 1900 in the City of Odessa, in the Ukraine (Ukrainskaja). At the time the Ukraine was part of Tsar Nicholas magnificent Russian Empire. The Tsar fondly called Odessa his Pearl of the Black Sea. Due to its geographic location as Russia’s only major warm water port, Odessa served as the Ukrainian people’s window to the outside world. Odessa’s population was endowed with a flair and passion for life and its one million citizens were far less Russian in character than any other city in Imperial Russia. Thus, they identified themselves with the Western Europeans of the continent rather than with their Russian brothers and sisters.

Early one October morning in 1905 my grandmother, Maria Leonidovna Danilov left seven-year-old Ivan and my mother Anna, who was then five years old, with her sister Ekaterina at Ekaterina’s Odessa apartment. To the siblings Ekaterina was their loving Aunt Rina. The children were to remain with Ekaterina during a two-day weekend, however Maria Danilov never returned.

Ekaterina Leonidovna Voskov was two years younger than her sister Maria and had been married to Leon S. Voskov, a Russian from Rostov on the Don (Rostov na Donee). Leon was employed as a boiler operator in the heating plant of Odessa’a Novorossiik University and only five months earlier had died from complications of the deadly 1905 strain of influenza which had run rampart throughout Europe. After Leon’s death Ekaterina took a job as a cook in the kitchen of a Odessa Secondary Academy, which had been established in 1878 exclusively for educating the children of Odessa’s wealthy merchants and privileged government officials.

Ivan and Anna had no memory of their father Michail Zaikin, a Russian, who worked as a construction supervisor for the Imperial Regional Railroad System. Although responsible in part for their conception, Zaikin never exhibited any parental concern for the welfare of his offspring’s. Nor had he expressed any desire to marry Maria. Consequently, the children had been registered under their mother’s family birth name, that of Danilov. Shortly before Anna’s birth Zaikin accepted a position in Yaroslavl (Jaroslavl), a city to the north of Moscow (Moskva). Maria never heard from him again.

Eight days after the children were left at Ekaterina’s apartment, she was notified that her sister had been arrested in the capitol city of Kiev (Kijeve). Maria had planned to spend the weekend with a man friend, Stanislav Smolensky, who resided in Kiev. Smolensky was an active member of the surreptitious Ukrainian Rada Party which the Tsar’s government viewed with great suspicion and a few months earlier the government had officially outlawed the party.

In the late afternoon of a cold and rainy Saturday hundreds of local Rada sympathizers had began a public demonstration on the Kreshchatik (Kiev’s main boulevard). On this broad avenue were located many of the Ukrainian State Government buildings.

The rally was just underway when troops of the Tsar’s Imperial Guards stormed onto the Kreshchatik. The horse mounted guardsmen, with sabers swinging, charged recklessly into the mass of humanity assembled on the boulevard. The marchers were quickly overpowered and the unexpected assault turned what was intended to be a peaceful gathering into a scene of bloody carnage and wild panic. Thirty-two of the marchers were killed in the altercation and over a hundred participants, some badly injured were arrested during this bloody event. Included in those apprehended was my grandmother Maria Danilov. Her friend Stanislav Smolensky escaped the scene unscratched.

Several days later the government conducted a mass trial of those apprehended and at its conclusion all were found guilty of insurrection against the Tsar’s Imperial State. All defendants were sentenced to serve ten or more years in the Siberian Labor Battalion Camps.

The Labor Camps, known as The Gulags, had been established by the Tsar in the late 1800 and were mostly sited east of the Ural Mountains in Siberia. The Gulags were methodically located in the most merciless and isolated regions of Siberia, a land dominated by its piercing winter cold. In these godforsaken Gulags the Tsar’s government could harshly punish their political enemies, real or merely suspected. Only a handful of inmates succeeded in outliving their long sentences in these brutal camps. When discussing the Gulags of the Tsar’s time one should note that these same labor camps were used to admonish persons of Problem Political Persuasion well into the late 1970’s.

During 1905 there were numerous peasant and worker uprisings throughout Imperial Russia and the Tsar’s government responded with unrestrained harsh treatment in squelching the cries for justice from the people.

During the 1905 disturbances thousands of citizens were killed in clashes with the authorities and hundreds of thousands of the so-called troublemakers were sent to the Gulags. Despite the lessons which the government should have learned from the unrest of 1905, the Tsar made no effort to ease the people’s misery. He simply closed his eyes and mind to the plight of his people and thus left the fires of future revolution smoldering in the heart of Mother Russia.

Because of Maria’s imprisonment Ekaterina now became the children’s sole provider. Some ten months after my grandmother was shipped to a Siberian Gulag, Ekaterina was advised by a local government official that Maria Danilov was dead. Her death was reported to have been from complications of tuberculosis. Aunt Rina never learned the whereabouts of the Gulag where Maria died, nor the date her sister had expired.

Those dismal years of the early 1900’s brought enormous suffering to the peasant and worker classes of Imperial Russia. Citizens simply vanished if they committed any act of dissent, or uttered any words against the government or the Tsar. Many of those who were outspoken against the Imperial government, the future revolutionaries, fled Russia and lived in exile while plotting and dreaming of the time when the Tsar’s hated regime would be overthrown. Imperial Russia was an anguished land with the seeds of revolution slowly growing just beneath the surface.

Despite their long history of living under suppression and terror, the people of Mother Russia always seemed doomed to redouble their misfortunes with each new ruler. Peasants recited an old proverb which spoke to the belief that their place in life would never improve. It was said, The blood-stained cloak of the last Tsar…always helps warm the shoulders of our next Russian tyrant!

After learning of Maria’s arrest Ekaterina enrolled the children in a local Primary Academy. During the rule of Tsar’s Alexander III and Nicholas II, only certain classes of Russian children were allowed an education. The peasant (serfs), children were given no formal schooling because the Tsar’s thought educating peasant class would ultimately result in civil unrest. Therefore, only children of the industrial worker classes were given the opportunity for a public primary school education. At the age of twelve these children were expected to join the Russian work force.

Anna and Ivan were blessed with exceptional intellectual abilities and did well in school and during their adolescence, the siblings were very devoted, a closeness which remained throughout their lifetime. At age twelve, after completing his so-called formal schooling, Ivan was assigned to a cleaning job at the Odessa Secondary Academy where Aunt Rina worked. When my mother, Anna reached the age of twelve, thus completing her schooling, she also obtained employment in the Academy kitchen.

On 1 August 1914, Germany declared war on Imperial Russia and thus began the so-called Great War. The Russian people soon dubbed it the Tsar’s War. Shortly after the start of the war Ivan Mikhailovich Danilov, now age sixteen, was drafted in the Imperial Army. He was trained as a machine gunner and assigned to the 9th Imperial Infantry Regiment which was fighting the Kaiser’s forces on the Eastern Front.

By early 1915 the fighting had regressed into disastrous trench warfare on the Eastern and Western Fronts. The two armies devoted considerable efforts in constructing elaborate front-line fortifications. These deadly trenches claimed the lives of hundreds of thousands of Russian and German soldiers as each army tried to overrun the enemy strategic positions.

In September 1916, during a massive German attack, Ivan was badly wounded and was evacuated to an Army Hospital in the City of Minsk. Three months later, after partially recovering from his wounds, he was assigned to light duty with a rear area unit. In January 1917, he was ordered to rejoin his old Regiment on the Eastern Front. Like many in the Imperial Army, he was contemptuous of the Tsar and the Russian nobility which had pushed Russia into this war. This same nobility remained safe at home while the common people fought and died in the trenches. Thus, with little thought of the consequences of his actions Ivan deserted his army post and returned to Odessa.

During Imperial Russia’s three years of war the Tsar’s Army suffered over one and a half million men killed, nearly four million soldiers were wounded and over two and one half million were missing or taken prisoner. The Tsar’s War was also going poorly for the demoralized citizens on the home front. Starvation haunted the land because of a nationwide shortage of grain and meat. The government blamed the empty food pantries on the recent years of drought, however the citizens knew the shortages came from the government mismanagement and the lack of peasant field workers, many of which had been drafter into the Army. The Tsar’s government, as in every past crisis, failed to improve conditions on the home front.

Across Russia the women in the cities and villages endured long daily bread lines and often discovered, after waiting all day, that the bread rations were gone or had not arrived. Factory workers were forced to work longer hours at lower wages, despite the runaway inflation of the times. The net result of these dire days was the Revolution of 1917 which began nearly spontaneously during the bitter cold of February when worker riots broke out in the factories of many industrial cities. In concert with the workers unrest the women of Russia took to the streets demanding food for their families. Literally overnight millions of Russians refused to comply with the dictates of the government and the Tsar’s control over his people began to collapse. Many government workers and large numbers of peasants joined the protests. Likewise, thousands of soldiers and wounded veterans, who had been sent home to recover, joined with the angry citizens and loudly demanded an end to the Tsar’s war.

Some wild-eyed groups called for the removal of the Tsar and his government! By the fourth day of the disorders their actions turned bloody and these unorganized riots spread quickly across Mother Russia from the German Front to the Pacific. As in previous disorders the Tsar ordered his army to suppress the riots and arrest the troublemakers, however much to the astonishment of his generals and the political elite, most of the soldiers collectively refused to fire on the workers. Thousands took their rifles and joined the workers and peasants in the streets and surprisingly the Tsar’s feared Cossack Regiments now refused to leave their barracks and move against their Russian brothers and sisters.

The February Revolution of 1917, which in reality belonged to no specific political party or group, brought to an end the two-hundred-year reign of the Romanov Dynasty. The Tsar’s government collapsed into, what the Russian peasants in ridicule called, The manure pile of history.

On 2 March 1917, Tsar Nicholas II abdicated and was placed under house arrest. A few days later, along with his family, Tsar Nicholas was escorted under guard to one of his summer homes near the city of Yekaterinburn. Sixteen months later, on the night of 16 July 1918, Tsar Nicholas II and his entire family were executed on orders issued by the Ural Regional Soviet Council. Thus, ended the long reign of Russian nobility.

Note; In 1924 Yekaterinburn, on the eastern foothills of the Urals, was re-named Sverdlovsk after Jakob Sverdlovsk the first chairman of the Central Committee. Sverdlovisk died of typhus in1919, or as rumors would have it, was murdered by Stalin. In 1991 the city again reverted back to its Imperial Russian name of Yekaterinburg.

After the fall of the Tsar’s government a hastily formed provisional government was established. Paul Miliukov and Aleksandr Guchkov were appointed to lead the new government, and Prince Lvov was designated as its figurehead leader. The new government lasted only forty-five days and then the First Coalition government headed by Socialist Aleksandr Kerensky took over. During the next six months a total of four Coalition governments tried their hand at running the country, each were ineffective in exercising control over the land. In this period of an ever-vacillating central government, the hapless Russian leaders were under pressure from the European Allies to remain committed to the war against Germany. The coalition’s continued participation in the war was much to the sorrowful disbelief of the Russian people.

After the collapse of the Tsar’s government many of the exiled socialist and nationalist party leaders quietly returned to Russia. In the months following the February revolution representatives of the Mensheviks, the Social Revolutionaries (SRs), the Kadets and the Bolshevik parties began to campaign and express their ideas publicly on the streets of Russia.

Ivan Danilov, who had been hiding from the army authorities in Aunt Rina’s apartment, and his sister Anna attended a political gathering of the formerly outlawed Bolshevik Party. Both were highly impressed with a young Bolshevik they met at the gathering. The man was a Russian who was born in the Village of Kalinovka (in the Kurst province near the Ukrainian border). When only six years old his family moved to Yuzovka, now known as Donetsk, in the Ukraine and at the age of twelve he started his working career as a metalworker apprentice in the nearby Pastukhov mines. Now twenty-three years old, he had been sent by the Ukrainian Party to convert the local citizens to the Bolshevik cause.

Ivan and Anna observed that the man spoke from his heart, with the forthright convictions usually found in those of peasant backgrounds. The young Bolshevik expounded often on the visions of his party and their proposals for social revolution.

He spoke highly of the greatness of their leader, Vladimir I. Lenin and elaborated on Lenin’s plan to transfer power from the rich landlords and capitalists into the hands of the proletariat and the peasants. He also angrily denounced the Coalition government for continuing the war with Germany, A war which the Western Allies and the rich industrialists of Europe encouraged.

Ivan and Anna studied the political pamphlets the young man provided which outlined Lenin’s Socialist plans for Russia and the workers of the world. They invited the young Bolshevik to stay in their apartment and he remained with them for over two months. Ivan and Anna accepted this new ideology and developed a personal friendship with the enthusiastic Bolshevik. The trio became life long friends and during the next half century the paths of these young Communists were to cross many times.

The audacious Bolshevik, this man of peasant heritage, was Nikita S. Khrushchev; Thirty-nine years after they first discussed Lenin’s plans for a better Socialist world, Nikita Khrushchev attained the top leadership position in the USSR, that of First Secretary of the Communist Party.

After Khrushchev returned to Kiev, Ivan and Anna worked tirelessly to convert many disgruntled citizens of Odessa to the Bolshevik cause. At Khrushchev’s suggestion Ivan organized a company of Bolshevik Volunteers and secretly trained them in the use of weapons. In late April Ivan was summoned to a private meeting with a party official who ordered Ivan to travel to Vladivostok and commence the training of a covert Red Guard unit. He was directed to travel to the Far East on the Trans-Siberian Railroad. Ivan felt greatly honored to be chosen for this important assignment.

On 3 June 1917, Ivan Danilov arrived in Vladivostok and discovered the city was under control of Tsarist loyalists who enjoyed the tacit approval of the Coalition government in Moscow (now the second government since the February Revolution). In the factory district of the city Ivan reported to Konstantin Sukhanov, the local Bolshevik leader. Sukhanov, the firebrand head of the Workers Party, was hiding from the local authorities because Bolshevik’s were now subject to arrest.

Ivan spent most of June with Sukhanov and his worker cadre and became an admirer and friend of this intense Communist leader. Sukhanov likewise recognized that this young Ukrainian possessed leadership abilities and had a good understanding of Lenin’s vision for Russia. He gave Ivan the difficult task of training a detachment of two hundred raw Red Guard recruits at a clandestine training camp located in the foothills outside the city of Spassk-Dalny (a junction point of the Trans-Siberian Railroad), some 150 kilometers (94 miles), and north of Vladivostok.

When Ivan departed Vladivostok, Sukhanov embraced him and quietly whispered, Ivan Mikhailovich…very soon this hateful Coalition government will be dispatched to its own hell! When I receive orders from Comrade Trotsky, our Socialist revolution in Eastern Siberian will begin! With my two thousand militiamen in Vladivostok…and your detachment at Spassk-Dalny we will be expected to maintain order in the region! Comrade…for the sake of our Mother Russia…we must not fail Comrade Trotsky and our great leader Comrade Lenin!

West of the Urals during the summer of 1917, Lenin and his Bolshevik’s were quietly preparing to wrestle the country from the loyalists who now dominated the Coalition government.

On 26 October 1917, Bolshevik forces in Petrograd (later named Leningrad and in 1991 again renamed to its original Imperial name of Saint Petersburg), and Moscow began an uprising which quickly ousted the Kerensky government. Thus the October Revolution became history. This event was and still is, known as the October Revolution by the Russian people; however, the revolution actually transpired on the true date of 7 November 1917. In 1917 the Julian calendar was still observed throughout imperial Russia, whereas in the rest of Europe and the world the Gregorian calendar had been used since the late 1700’s. The Gregorian calendar in 1917 was a full twelve days ahead of the Julian-Russian Calendar. In February 1918 the new Bolshevik government officially adopted the Western calendar.

On 30 October 1917, Sukhanov and his Worker’s Militia wrestled control of Vladivostok from the Loyalist forces and occupied all the government buildings. Many of the government troops in the region fled the city and later joined up with the new Loyalists forces. On the same date Ivan’s Red Guards marched into Spassk-Dalny and captured the city without firing a shot. Within a week the Bolshevik’s had established their authority over the entire Kikhote-Alin region up the Amur River. In the west the Bolshevik forces quickly took control of the most of European Russia. The October Revolution was nearly bloodless during its first few weeks, however in mid-November the revolution turned bloody and the Russian Civil War, which was to continue for most of the next three- and one-half years, began.

During the early years of the Civil War the Loyalists White Army of Siberia was commanded by Alexsandr V. Kolchak, a former Tsarist Vice Admiral. His armies were commanded by General’s Semenov, Alekseyev and Kaledin. One should note however that often Kolchak’s generals respected no authority other than their own. Throughout the long civil conflict, the White Armies were supplied with money and weapons from the Allies, mainly France, England and Japan.

During the first four months of the Civil War, the Bolshevik’s were obliged to fight both and Germans and the Whites as Lenin made frantic efforts to end the war as the demoralized Russian Army fled the battlefields. The German Army pushed through Belorussia and into the Ukraine, even as their government talked peace with Lenin.

On 3 March 1918 the Treaty of Brest-Litovak was signed and the war between Germany and Russia officially ended. During the peace negotiations all of the Ukraine had fallen to the German Army. During this same period English and French forces landed and occupied Murmansk on the Barents Sea and Archangel on the White Sea. Delays in reaching a peace accord with Germany provided a golden opportunity for the Loyalist and their White Army to recruit, organize and arm.

On 5 April 1918 a large coalition of troops from England, France, Japan and the United States landed at Vladivostok and together with 17,000 soldiers of the Whites Czech Legion quickly subjugate the city. All of the Vladivostok’s Bolshevik leaders, including Konstantin Sukhanov, were quickly arrested. At the time Ivan Danilov and his detachment served under a young Communist military strategist named Sergei Lazo. The Red Guard forces commanded by Sergei Lazo were feared throughout Eastern Siberia because of their daring exploits against the enemies of the Bolshevik revolution.

By late spring of 1918 most of Siberia was under control of Vice Admiral Kolchak and his White Army. West of the Urals, in European Russia, Lenin’s Red Guard troops were able to maintain an uncertain order over about fifty percent of the land area. In the southern sections of European Russia, the White Armies were led by Lavr Kornilov, a former Tsarist General and when the German troops pulled back from the Ukraine Kornilov’s forces occupied most of the Ukraine. Odessa soon fell to Kornilov’s forces and he captured intact most of the harbors merchant and military fleet.

On 13 April 1918 General Kornilov was killed by shell fire and Anton Denikin, also a former Tarist General, took command of the Southern White forces. In 1919 when the Red Guards pushed the Whites from Odessa, they discovered that Denikin had sold off the entire Black Sea merchant fleet to European buyers. In 1920 the White Army recaptured Odessa, but a few months later the Red Army defeated Denikin’s forces and again retook the Ukraine. General Denikin promptly fled to England where he lived in exile until his death in 1947.

Meanwhile in the Far East Vice Admiral Kolchak was so confident of his control over Siberia that in 1919 he named the city of Omsk as his seat of government and declared himself The Supreme Ruler of Russia.

One of Kolchak’s commanders, General Grigory Semenov was a sadistic madman known to his own troops as Semenov the Beast. His nationality was half Russian and half Buryat. The Buryat’s were a people who spoke a Mongolian dialect and claimed a homeland in the area around Lake Bajkal. Semenov often dispatched heavily armored trains to travel up and down the Trans-Siberian rail line. The trains brought death and devastation to any village or city in which they happened to stop.

In January 1920 at Kyakhta, near the Chinese border, General Semenov ordered the execution of eighteen hundred Red prisoners. The executions took three days to accomplish and it was well documented that Semenov personally shot hundreds of the prisoners during this orgy of death.

During the three- and one-half year Civil War, the Red Guards in Siberia fought thousand of battles and skirmishes with the Whites. When overwhelmed by superior forces the Communist units would retreat to the dense forest or mountain areas. Whenever the Whites were in serious jeopardy they would withdraw to the sanctuary of Manchuria where the Japanese and the French would help them regroup and re-arm.

On 2 February 1920, in a surprise early morning attack, units of the Red Guards captured Vice Admiral Kolchak at the rail yard in Irkutsk. Taken with Kolchak were six rail cars stuffed with war booty and gold. The commander of the Red Guards, remembering the recent massacre at Kykhta, promptly ordered Admiral Kolchak’s, execution. Those present at his firing squad execution later stated that Kolchak died as a coward crying for mercy.

Atrocities against suspected sympathetic civilians were common-place on both sides and betrayal by friend or foe was commonplace as the war dragged on.

In May of 1920 Sergei Lazo and twenty-five of his men were captured by Japanese troops and then turned over to General Semenov. Several weeks later a White deserter informed Ivan Danilov that General Semenov had ordered Sergei Lazo, who was bound and still alive, tossed into the firebox of a locomotive which was idling at the railroad station near Khabarovsk (Chabarovsk). Then in August, Ivan’s friend, Konstantin Sukhanov and a dozen other Bolshevik leaders from Vladivostok were executed by the White Army.

Ivan vowed he would avenge the murder of his friends, however, at the conclusion of the Civil War General Semenov eluded capture and escaped to Manchuria where the Japanese gave him sanctuary for the next twenty-four years. In 1945, when the Soviet Army marched into Manchuria, Grigory Semenov was captured and five days later was tried by military court and promptly executed. Ivan Danilov was present at the trial and served as a witness to Semenov’s execution. Justice was done, even if it was late!

As the Civil War raged across the vastness of Siberia Ivan Danilov and his small detachment fought the Whites in the regions around Khabarovsk (Chabarovsk). Often his forces retreated to the safety of the Stanovoj Chrebet Mountains.

Sadly, millions of Mother Russia’s soldiers and citizens were killed or died from disease and starvation during these long hostilities. It was late 1921 before Lenin and his Communists forces could claim to have won the Civil War. The long war ended in victory for the Communist because Lenin and his War Commissar, Leon Trotsky, were able to keep their forces united by their common goal of a Socialist Russia. The Whites on the other hand never possessed any believable political motivations. Despite being well financed by the Allies the Loyalists could promise nothing to the Russian people but a return to the old hated nobility system.

In 1916 my mother Anna began working for the Bolshevik underground newspaper The Red Badge. After the February Revolution the Red Badge became the best-read newspaper in Odessa. At the time Nikolai Demchenko