Battle of the Latvian National Guard Shock Battalion near Pokumina Manor on January 21, 1920

Memories of G. Pavlovičs, a soldier of the 2nd Squadron of the Latvian National Guard Shock Battalion, about the Battle of Pokumina:

"To the right and left of the manor house was a beautiful park with large, old trees, and perhaps two hundred meters away was the railway line to Moscow, from which we could see a large part of it. – Now we were on the artery of the retreating Russian army, – we had arrived here two days before the deadline and could expect all sorts of things.

We took up positions in the park, and all available machine guns were deployed, even heavy machine guns. Now it was necessary to destroy the railway embankment as quickly as possible. We had no explosives - the patrol sent to the Latvian armored train disappeared without a trace - a sad fate had probably befallen them. We tried to use hand grenades, ten of which we placed under the tracks and then pulled the fuses. We waited tensely, but none of them exploded, they had all become damp. We tried to shoot them, but they did not react to that either, they remained where they were and did not explode - the tracks remained intact. We ran to the manor forge, took large hammers and iron bars and went back to the railway embankment. Then we heard the noise of the locomotive's steam. We decided to let the locomotive go further, and ran back to the old trees. A train, consisting of three or four platform cars full of Bolshevik soldiers, passed by at half speed.

No shooting was allowed, only the heavy machine gun could try to stop the locomotive. Then it started - one shot, at the same moment shots and noise were heard from the train towards us. Was that a signal for everyone else? Everyone who had machine guns began to shoot at the train cars, and our twelve machine guns opened a real sea of fire on the railway embankment. It was the last firefight we organized, and, probably, the first one that was as bloody as this. Our machine guns must have shot the cars terribly, but the locomotive could not be stopped, it picked up speed and moved on.

We ran to the railway embankment. I was startled for a moment, seeing red drops in the snow, forming red lines and continuing between the rails. — But we had no time to lose, and we had to start working again; our settlers, strong men, were hammering on the nuts and bolts until they were broken. It was a desperate job. When we had disconnected one rail from the other, it still stood still and did not move, for with so many nails it was fastened to the sleepers; we had to work quickly, for the next train might come at any moment. Then we heard the locomotive approaching; with feverish haste we continued working, but without success, we already saw smoke rising from behind the trees—we had to turn back and run as fast as our legs would carry us, all the way to the protective park.

The snow was deep, we were knee-deep in it, and the locomotive was coming, blowing loudly. A short climb, and we disappeared behind trees and bushes as quickly as we could, digging a hole in the snow to at least hide from sight. The train was approaching, it was an armored train, on which in large red letters was written: “Bronevik Trotsky,” and we were not allowed to shoot at it. We tried to peer through the snow with one eye. Our hearts beat faster, but an armored train – two hundred meters away – still inspired us with a certain respect. Then it came, slowly, as a man walks. In front of it were two ordinary platform cars with rails and barriers and other repair tools, followed by two artillery cars, covered with armor plates up to the rails. From our vantage point we could look inside and see the gun barrels. It moved slowly along. In front of the fully armored carriage were two rows of narrow portholes, behind each of which there was probably a machine gun. Then came the locomotive, completely covered in armor plates, every wheel, rod, cylinder—everything was protected, and it had lost the shape of a locomotive.

Behind the locomotive came another armored machine-gun carriage, followed by two artillery carriages, and the last two were two ordinary platform carriages. The train was moving very slowly. When it reached our height, one man got out and went forward to the first carriage. He had to be brave, you must admit, because everyone had heard our shots and now saw the dam covered in blood. But he calmly walked past the carriage and checked the tracks to see if they were still passable. The train continued to move, but we were silent, because we could do nothing against this armor. We had to let it go, no matter how painful it was. When the train had passed, the man got in, the locomotive accelerated and soon disappeared behind the trees of the park.

It was a strange feeling to see this huge iron thing passing by. We dared to get out of our hiding places and went back to the railway embankment. The train was no longer in sight. We took up hammers again and knocked out the rail nails, which we had first to dig out of the snow by hand; but we only bent them, not knocked them out. We worked as if the devil himself was sitting on our necks. We knew very well that it was a useless job - but we could hope that a few more trains were in a trap, the only way out of which was in our hands. Then we heard short whistles again and the noise and puffing of the locomotive. Damned - we had to leave our positions again and retreat to our hiding places. We ran to the park, the train was approaching. This time it was the "Bronevik Lenin" - again the armored train. Slowly, no faster than a human walk, it passed us. "We didn't shoot, but lay with our noses in the snow and watched it. It drove on and happily returned to its red paradise."

Battle of Pokumin, January 21, 1920

On the evening of January 20, 1920, the Latvian Army Landeswehr Headquarters stationed itself in Bekši, where it was decided to continue the attack on Rēzekne, according to the previously adopted plan with minor changes. On January 21, at 03:00, the Landeswehr Shock Battalion began a march in the direction of the Rēzekne–Ludza railway along the Rečina–Ratnieki–Piskūni–Križuti road in one column, putting the 2nd squadron with an artillery battery in front. The forward units, having traveled 10 km in less than three hours, reached Križuti Lake, which they crossed on the ice and surprised the Soviet hospital in the Križuti manor. It was found that about 1 km away, in the village of Škincova, there was a sapper battalion consisting of two companies with about 120 soldiers. At 07:15, two squadrons deployed for the attack and went on the attack. Only individual commanders showed resistance, who were destroyed with hand grenades.

The assault battalion continued its movement in the direction of the railway and after about 3 km, passing through the villages of Kleper and Dubinova, at 08:50 it encountered the first resistance. On a small hill between Dubinova and the Pokumina manor, there was a windmill, from which intense fire was opened. The 2nd squadron deployed, but could not advance across the open field. To clear the way, an artillery battery moved forward, which began to fire at direct aim. After two direct hits, the fire ceased and the attack continued. However, the horses of the artillery battery, which had dragged the guns 16 km, were unable to move any further. Only after several hours, when the guns were dragged by hand to the Pokumina manor, did the artillery regain combat capability.

Next, the 2nd squadron of the shock battalion occupied the Pokumina manor and the nearby park. After unsuccessful attempts to destroy the railway tracks, the Landeswehr took up firing positions along the northern edge of the park. During the day, 3 regular trains and two armored trains passed along the manor park, which the 2nd squadron fired on with weapons available to the guests. The shock battalion was deep behind enemy lines until the afternoon of January 21, when the 3rd armored train arrived.