Commander Hugo Helmanis' reconnaissance mission of December 3, 1919

The guard posts of the nobles in Krišev, Putrani and Nagļīši were located closest to our line, which is why our scouts often disturbed them. In order to better protect themselves, the Reds placed 2 cannons in the village of Kristjinki, through which the Rogovka highway, which is convenient for traffic with the rear, passes. These cannons have long been like a thorn in our eyes, sometimes causing trouble and inconvenience. Observing our poverty in terms of artillery, envy awakens. This painful gap could not be filled so soon, because the best weapons and the largest forces went to the west, to fight for the freedom of Latvia against the aggressor Bermont. Therefore, the care of arming lies on our own shoulders. From whom else can we take, if not from the enemy?! "Yours is mine, but mine remains mine", as the communists achieved with their actions.

Through the reconnaissance of the 8th Company on November 27, I learned that two guns were in the village of Kristjinki, covered by 40-60 people, and that 20 outnumbered soldiers were stationed in Salkoviški. Having gathered as much information as possible, I asked my immediate superior to allow me to remove the red battery. The battalion commander, Captain Ērglis, gave his permission. Right there at the headquarters, in the presence of several officers, we drew up a plan. It would be relatively easy to get behind the enemy's back, we just had to wade through the deep snow carefully and with great patience. I found this circumstance too tiring. I would also lack the necessary energy to withdraw the battery. I considered various possibilities for a long time. Finally, a solution came to mind. Securing ourselves on narrow roads with guard posts against being outflanked from behind, we must silently capture the enemy's front line on a nearby highway and hold it against all enemy attacks, so that the main operating group can withdraw the trophies it has captured through this "gate" when retreating.

Naglīši was considered the closest point, but the Reds concentrated their main forces there and in the surrounding area, so I abandoned this direction. Svitene on the Stružāni highway remained. Senior Lieutenant Beyers, who, thanks to frequent reconnaissance trips, knew the area well, undertook to capture the mentioned village and remain there until my arrival. On November 22, he captured 17 Red Army soldiers in the village of Svietenėti. After completing the first part of the task, our main group would go to Stružāni, where it was necessary to post a guard on the highway leading from there to the southwest along a raised embankment: leaving the 7th company's scouts in Svietenėti, we would move to Kristjinki, from where, after completing the task, we would return via Svitene along the already traveled road.

The battalion commander agreed to the plan and told us to prepare feverishly. On December 2, at 10:00 p.m., there was lively movement at the exit point in Viškuļi. Here and on the other side of the river, unable to find a place for themselves, sledges were pushing past each other; the sledges were loaded with machine guns and cartridges, mortars and their mines. New riders were constantly coming from the rear. The enemy was about 13 kilometers away, so walking on foot was unnecessary. From the 8th company entrusted to me, one officer and 46 soldiers participated in the march. From the 7th company — the commander with one officer and 20 soldiers.

When everyone had arrived, I called the officers to a general meeting, where we discussed all the issues again. Then I ordered the 7th Company to go ahead, after which I followed with the 8th.

We were surrounded by the proud Bykovo forest with its gloomy beauty. The majestic pines and firs were seriously silent, only the tips of the branches rustled slowly, and from their light swaying, snow dust fell down like white flowers, falling from branch to branch. We quickly advanced along the slippery winter road. At the Svietenė cemetery, 1 1/2 km from the village, Lieutenant Beyers organized his soldiers, explained the task to them, and, having come to me, reported that they would break through the Bolshevik front and surround Svietenė from the rear. Wishing them much success, we said our heartfelt farewells. The scouts disappeared one by one into the thick of the forest. A few shots rang out from the enemy's side, but we did not pay the slightest attention to them. The Red sentry, as I have observed from my adventures, often fires a few cartridges and then falls asleep; after a while he wakes up and does the same, proving his alertness. This continues until the shift and. satisfied with the fulfillment of his duty, he goes to sleep in warm rooms. This time it was apparently the same, because the shooting was also limited to that.

These shots also ceased, and towards morning there was complete silence. We waited with great impatience for about two hours, but there was no news from the scouts sent out.

I instructed an officer with 8 soldiers to investigate the situation. They had already left when a short exchange of fire broke out in front of us. I ordered them to move forward immediately. Not far from the village I encountered a crowd of people. In the darkness I could not see who they were. In response to my question, a soldier came up with a report that Lieutenant Beyers had completed the task and received 12 prisoners, who were being taken home.

Now, without delay, I went through Svietenė and moved further to the Stružāni manor, where I posted a guard: 1 officer and 8 soldiers. On the way to Kristjinki, an idea came to my mind. According to the stories of those who came, the Russian units stationed in this area should have long been replaced by the Red Latvians, and they were expecting a replacement at any moment. What if we pretended to be them? In my opinion, it should have worked! So - go ahead! I introduced the soldiers to my intention and received the most enthusiastic approval from them. On the way, I went into one house after another, asking the peasants where the Reds were. Everywhere the answer was the same, that there were none as far as Kristjinki.

The inhabitants were very kind, offered us food and asked us to come soon and finally save them from the Bolshevik yoke. Several of the soldiers were locals and could not bear to spend even a short moment in their father's house. There were touching scenes: the relatives, holding the soldiers in tight embraces, with tears in their eyes, gave them their blessing for further battles. The information gathered turned out to be correct, because we did not meet the enemy anywhere on the way. At nine in the morning, 50 steps from Kristjinki, I arranged the people in one line and ordered them to keep their rifles in their straps on their shoulders, and if necessary, to pull them out and put them to work. We were already at the first house in the village. A Red Army soldier came towards us. "What's going on?" "Well, the navel-gazing point," he answered calmly and, thinking that we were his own people, wanted to pass by. He couldn't help but grab hold of himself when he was already disarmed. I asked him: "How many people are standing in Kristjinko?" — "140 men!" came the prisoner's unexpected answer. As I noticed, the soldiers' spirits were breaking: they began to whisper among themselves and I saw fear in the eyes of many. I was surprised by the large number myself, but quickly got my bearings. "Vrojš krasnokožīīj, zdjesj toļko čelovek!" I said sternly to the red, wanting to raise the morale of my people. He stammered in fright: "Tak točno 40 čelovek!" My calculation was correct: the soldiers calmed down. Now there was no need to delay for a single minute. The reds had to be quickly and completely surprised, without giving them a chance to resist. We marched cold-bloodedly into Kristjinki. I strictly ordered our men not to stop and to continue the march completely calmly. The Bolsheviks who had gathered at the windows looked at us distrustfully. Some came out and asked which unit we were from. We replied that we were a Latvian "shift". The reds were extremely happy and even started jumping for joy. Others also appeared on the street. I ordered them to be surrounded and captured. However, some managed to escape and inform the others, because a shot was heard from the other end. Seeing that the enemy was gathering in small groups and starting to fire at us, we opened fierce fire from our side and went through the village in a chain, behind which, 100 steps away at the hill where the battery stood, the Reds were preparing to receive us with cannon and machine gun fire. We managed to quickly release a well-aimed mine, which exploded about 5 steps away from the battery, and with loud battle cries we ran towards the battery. The soldiers were completely confused by the explosion of the mine and our courage and, abandoning their weapons, - many half-dressed, some even without trousers and hats, bare-footed - tried to reach the bushes to avoid capture. Our rifles fired non-stop and wounded most of the fleeing soldiers. Counting and collecting the rich spoils of war was not easy and took a lot of time. We drove the battery horses to the guns, saddled the riders and "requisitioned" all the peasants in the barns.

The soldiers filled their bags with cartridges, loaded the captured goods into sledges and, having taken up to 15 unwounded prisoners, we hurried back. While we were staying in Kristjinki, the Reds gathered from Dulina, Karoliši and other surrounding villages, occupying the road between Pintans and Salkoviši. We now encountered this enemy.

A very critical moment came: I would spread my people in a chain. I will never forget this beautiful sight: our brave soldiers, despite the fierce resistance of the Reds, used every object for protection and slowly but persistently pushed the enemy back step by step. The guards, at my command, helped us shout hurrah, which made an even greater impression on the enemy. Although the situation was serious, I could not help laughing, watching how diligently my Reds helped to push back their comrades with their shouting.

Having broken through to Stružani, we united with the guard left there and together we went to Svieteni. Not far from the village, rejoicing in our victory. Senior Lieutenant Beyers came towards us. Pointing to the shot red man, he noted that they had not been idle during this time either, but had beaten off the enemy chain on the Duļino road. Taking 1 prisoner and 10 rifles. I invited him to choose a horse for himself so that he would not have to walk. He was just about to get into the saddle when suddenly the rain of lead began again. The cavalrymen of the nobles, together with the infantry, approached from the east to 400-500 steps and tried to take away our war booty, but in vain. At my command, some soldiers, under a hail of exploding bullets, with the help of the prisoners, led the horses with trophies to the village; others lay down and covered the retreat with fierce fire; many fired while standing. Without losses, except for 2 slightly wounded, we soon entered the forest. I ordered the soldiers not to shoot anymore, so that the enemy could not judge how far away we were from him. Afraid to follow us, the Reds soon fell far behind.

Returning home, we wondered whether we would be able to get the guns across the river, as the ice still seemed rather shaky. These concerns turned out to be completely unfounded; the guns, without any accident, passed over, thundering. In the end, a small incident. We arrived in our front area at 3:00 p.m. I rode to the battalion headquarters. In my hands, I held, tied to a tree, our battle prize — the red flag. It proudly fluttered in the air and on it in large, solid letters was the inscription: "V jedineniji sila!"