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Start writing in Caracas, Venezuela

19 February 1966

AlexanderLeonid von Dehn

(Author of the history ofthis branch of my family)

I was born as the first child of my parents on August 9, 1908, inPeterhof near St. Petersburg, summer residence of the Imperial Russian Family.

After my Father Karl Alexander yon Dehn, married my Mother JuliaSmolski, in 190V, he was appointed to serve in the Svodny Polk, for a term ofone year at the Ekaterinensky Dvoretz (Catherine's Palace), in Tsrskoe Selo,which was the permanent residence of the Russian Tsar and his family, in theoutskirts of St. Petersburg.

The Svodny Polk was a picked Guards Regiment selected~ fromdistinguished Guards Officers, who in recognition for their outstanding servicewere assigned for the period of one year to serve as the personal guard of theEmperor and his family.

At the time of my birth my Father was 31 years of age, and my Mother24.By strange coincidence I was born on the day of my Mother's Birthday, as myFather was born on the day of his Father’s Birthday (February 28}.

Actually, by Old Russian style the date of my Birthday was July 27,1908, as it appears in the "Genealogisches Handbuch des Adels.”

I was born in a house number "13" on a Sunday, near thePeterhof Palace, but, I do not know the name of the street there.

My parents were honoured by the Empress Alexandra Fiodorovna whooffered to be my Godmother, and my Father asked his elder Brother August Ewaldvon Den to be my Godfather.

I was Baptized Lutheran, the religion of my Father's family accordingto family tradition, although my Mother was Greek Orthodox, the ruling religionof Imperial Russia

Prior to the assignment to Serve in the Svodny Polk, my Father hadserved on the Royal Yacht "Poliarnaya Zvesda" (Polar Star) which wasassigned to the Dowager Empress Maria Fiodorovna, and when his term of serviceelapsed in the Svodny Polk, he was assigned to serve as an officer on he RoyalYacht “Standard” where he must have served from 1909, up to his assignment asCaptain of the destroyer "Voiskovoy" ("Warrior") in 1912,which ship he commanded at the outbreak of the first World War in 1914 and upto the summer of 1916.·

The early years of my childhood were spent with the family near thePalace in Tsarskoe Selo, during wintertime, Peterhof in summer, and Livadia, inYalta in summer and when my Father was in Yalta with the Royal Yacht"Standard.”

When my Father's term of service in the Svodny Polk came to an end, hewas assigned an apartment in the Marine Guards "GvardzieiskiEquipage", officers apartment house in Petersburg, at Targovaya Ulitsa{Targovaya Street) No. 4, near the Marinskaya Ploshtchad, and opposite the prisonbuilding known as the Litovski Zamok (Lithuanian Castle).

In this apartment is where my childhood memories start.The apartmentwas on the second floor of the building, right hand entrance from thestaircase.From the entry Hall to the right, were three large rooms facing theTargovaya Street.The first room was a large drawing room, with a mauve carpet,mauve curtains, and Empire style furniture, covered with mauve tapestry, whichwas my Mother's favourite colour.The next room was my Parent's bedroom,followed by my bedroom.On the left side of the entrance hall was my Father'sStudy, and another bedroom, which was occupied by my Grand-Father GeneralSmolski, when he would come to visit us.

The entrance Hall led Into a large Dinning Room, which had a connectingdoor to my Bed-Room on the right side, and a passage leading to the Bathroom,and Kitchen and Servants Quarters, leading out of it on the left side.

Here our small family led a happy life.Father had an orderly assignedto him from the Navy, who was his manservant, whose name was Vladimir Loshak,who was my great "Friend.”My Grand Father's orderly - one"Vasily", was also there when Grand-Father was on a visit, and whowas killed in the first months of World War One, which made us all very sad.Thenthere was Mother's personal maid Anna, who later married Vladimir, and a cook.

As was the custom I was permanently taken care of by a series ofGovernesses French, Swiss and English, all of whose names I do not remember,and who had constant clashes with my Grand-Mother Ekaterina Leonidovna, (myMother's mother who adored me, and who would insist that I was badly treated bythese Governesses, and insist on their constant dismissal.

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EarlyChildhood

Early childhood memories ofpeaceful, happy, and prosperous life, in Pre-World War One andPre-Revolutionary Russia, remain distant fragments through a veil of hazeretreating into darkness of more than fifty years of turbulent times of troublethat came thereafter.

I find it impossible to establish the exact sequence of events;therefore, it seems easiest to divide them by the place where they occurred,thus:

Our apartment in St.Petersburg

The Palace at Tsarskoie Selo

Summer at my Grandmother'sEstate in the Ukraine etc

Reval, Estonia.

One of the first memories, as always, which leaves a vivid impressionwas an accident, whereby a bodily injury resulted.

My Father had a favourite Dachshound dog called Jimmy.I was runningafter Jimmy in the apartment, slipped against a door, and cut my lower lipopen, against a protruding lock latchet.Outcome was a visit by a Doctor, whostitched up my lip.Later poor Jimmy was run-over in the street, by a horsedrawn carriage, and died in my Mother's arms, which was a sad incident, whichwas never forgotten.

Then there were the walks on clear sunny winter mornings with myGovernesses in the Nicholsky Sad, and snowball games in glistening snow, andthe making of "Snow Men,” with brooms in their hands, and sliding insledges.Also long walks along the water front of the Neva River, along aBoulevard called the Naberejnaya and coming home to drink tea with WildStrawberry cake, from the Cake and Pastry shop Ivanoff, next to the MarinskyTheater, which was the home of the famous Imperial Ballet.

 When teeth were falling out,Grandmother would always suggest that one tie a string to the loose tooth, andthen tie the other end to a door handle, so that the tooth be pulled out whensomebody opened the door, which would have been a dreadful operation, but, wellrecompensed because Grand-Mother would always give one a l0 Ruble Gold coin,every time one would allow a tooth, to be pulled out.

Once there was a New Year's Eve, when Grandmother came and woke me atmid-night, and gave me a sip of Champagne, after which I had dreadful dreams ofa Lion chasing, and this "horror", I have never been able to forget.

Christmas Eve was always a special event because towards the eveningtwo special Couriers sent by the Empress from the Palace would arrive with ahuge carton about 6 foot long, and 4 foot high, containing presents for me.Iremember particularly a large mechanical music box, a Balalaika, toy soldiers,and lots of clothing, such as sailors suits, etc., which had belonged to theHeir to the Throne Grand Duke Alexis, who was my playmate, and who was 4 yearsolder then I, and who had grown out of these clothes which I would inherit.

Probably my first Birthday which I remember was one, when I receivedamongst other presents a silver goblet, with three handles, and our Coat ofArms engraved on it, and the year 1912 (I was then 4 years old), from my Uncleand God Father, my Father's Brother uncle August.

On one occasion I had to have my first operation a small inoffensivetumour had to be cut out from the inside of my nose.After the operation I wasprofusely treated to masses of Ice Cream, which made up for the littlesuffering caused.

 At another occasion a bad colddeveloped into Diphtheria, with high fever and violent throat ache.The Empresshearing of my ailment sent the famous "Miracle Man", Rasputin to ourhouse to cure me, and this is an incident I have never forgot, I must have beenterrified to see a tall bearded man with long black hair and a dark frock coatcome into my bedroom.He knelt next to my bed, took my head, into both his handsand looked deeply into my eyes, with a piercing look of his steel blue eyes,whereupon I fell asleep, and according to what my Mother later told me, I wokeup next morning completely cured of my illness.

Easter was a wonderful Joyous event.On Palm Sunday there was a bigPublic Fair, in St. Petersburg, where they would sell bunches of Eatkins,coloured paper flowers, painted Easter Eggs, and what thrilled me most littleglass tubes fill with Alcohol.On holding the bottom of the tube, in the palm ofones hand, the body temperature would warm the Alcohol, and a little figure ofa Devil in the tube, would start rising and jumping up and down.

Father was most of the time away in his Naval Service, and on returningfrom his foreign trips, he would bring back all kinds of foreign specialties,and delicacies.In our Dinning Room, there was always an old Oak Barrelcontaining Malaga Wine, which was tapped into glasses, through a wooden Tap.Alsobefore each meal Vladimir Father’s orderly, would make small balls of butter,with two small wooden spades, and I loved picking these small rolls of butterwith my finger tips and putting them in my mouth.

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I do not remember in which year it was, but, it must have been between1911 and 1913, the Doctor had declared that I had a distended stomach throughdrinking too much water, and that the cure for that to go to a"Kurort" in the Caucasus, at the foot of Mount Elbrus, calledEssentuki, and drink Mineral Water called Borjom.

One summer my Mother proceeded with me to that place, and I rememberliving in a Sanatorium, drinking Borjom, and receiving body frictions with SaltWater, and afterwards lying naked in the sun, on a Roof Terrace of theSanatorium.Once when Mother was sitting on a Bench, in the Garden of theSanatorium, and a Gardener, who had been watering the Lawn with a hose left, itlying with water turned on spouting out, I picked up the hose, and turned it onmy poor Mother who was sitting in a white dress, with a large fashionable haton, which had - one can well imagine the expected effect and result.

Another time, and that is all I remember of my Grand-Father's Estate,Selimbek in Yalta, was walking in a fruit orchard, and admiring the ripeningPears, Apples and Peaches, on the trees, every individual fruit being wrappedup in small white Tissue Paper bags, to protect it from being eaten by Wasps.

All kinds of odd stories come back from tales heard from my Mother, andGrandmother.

Mother as a child had oncebeen bitten by a Centipede (Scolopander), almost 6 inches long, while playing inthe Garden of the Villa in Yalta.Her arm swelled to double its normal size, andher life was in Grave danger.

Grandmother had once had a strong attack of Appendicitis, and wasforbidden to eat anything.She had a strong craving for Peaches, and when leftfor a moment alone, ate several of these succulent, delicious fruit.Whereuponher ailment improved rapidly, and she was again all right in a few days.

 My Great-grandmother MariaHorvath, born Pilar v. Pilchau, had a Sister called "Tante Lizine.”Shecould not stand the heat of the summers of Crimea, and when she would have togo driving in Horse Carriages, she would have a large Watermelon cut in twohalves, and would sit on the cool, damp half of the Melon, to keep her fresh andcool.“Tante Lizine” married an Italian, Count Ruchelai, from Florence,descended from the family of MichaelAngelo’s mother, and her descendants survive today in Italy.

Another sister, “Tante Nina,” was lady-in-waiting to the, at that time,Empress of Romania.Unfortunate, "Tante Nina” had a tragic end.She was oncewith the Empress in Geneva, riding a Carriage, when the horses took fright andcareered, finally wrecking the Carriage.At the moment of the accident,"Tante Nina” threw herself in front of the Empress to protect her with herbody, and was badly hit in the Breast; this caused a Breast Cancer from whichshe later died.

 My Grand-Father General Smolskialso owned a Villa in the town of Balaover-looking the Bay.Mother as a child loved the place, and spent many summersthere.She had a small rowing boat, and would go alone rowing in it, in the p Bay of Balaklava.The place was notfar from the Port of Sebastopol, where Grandfather, was Chief Engineer in theArmy, reconstructing the Port and Fortress (which was again destroyed by theGermans, in the Second World War.)He would frequently drive in a Horse Carriagefrom Balaklava to Sebastopol, to his assignment of rebuilding the Militaryinstallations, which had been destroyed during the Crimean War in 1856.One ofhis assignments was to build the Museum of Sebastopol, and I remember seeingpictures of it.Maybe that Building still exists today.

 In 1905, at the Estate of myGrandfather in Yalta Autka, - Selimbek -, digging a trench for a VinePlantation, the foundations of an Ancient Heathen, discovered in 1905.Although,Mother, and Grandfather said it was a Temple of the Greek Goddess of PlentyCeres.The Soviet Russian book "Gorny Krym", published in 1965, by theAcademy of Sciences of the Ukraine, in Kiev, and written by A.M. Leskov, onpage 186 (book in my Library), states that this a Taurean Heathen Temple, inthe woods of the Goddess Deva, as proved by the Archeologist A.L. B-Delagarda, who worked there.Hundredsof Greek, Roman, and Bosphorus silver and bronze coins were found there.Manyhuman and animal figures were also unearthed, some of fine Greek Art.A smallfigure in Bronze of a Greek Horseman is now in Athens Museum.The majority ofthe figures were locally made; of a primitive 15 cms high made of terracotta,representing a female figure, the Goddess, and made by the local Taureanpopulation.

 One of my Grandmother's Sisterswas married to General Piotr Yanoff, who was Director General of the Emperor'sPalaces in Livadia, near Yalta, where the Historically famous Yalta Conferencetook place in 1945.His daughter Marie Dellinborn Yahoff, is our "Tante Mimi", here in Caracas, and, Mother ofAndre D Her sister, "TanteNina" likewise here in Caracas, was married to an Ayvazowsky, as theGrand-son of the famous Russian Painter Ayvazowsky, in the 19-th century, andfamous to all Russians - even up to now for his Sea Pictures (Ma Paintings), of the Black sea."TanteNina's children, Marina, and Peter Ayvazowsky are likewise here with us inCaracas.

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 Talking of Archeology, I alsoclearly remember hearing from my Grandmother that in her Estate Beletskovka,near Krementchug, on the Dnieper river, in the Ukraine, two enormous skeletonshad been dug out, with Bronze Bracelets round their wrists and ankles, andtwo-handed swords made of Bronze, which were so heavy that a normal man couldhardly lift.The Skeletons were of men more than two meters tall.They wereprobably Scythe Warriors.

Estates in the Ukraine

The Horvaths Estates, my Mother's family on the Maternal side, havealready been mentioned before, but, I will now describe the two Estates which Iknew - my Great-Grandmother's estate, Revovka, near the small townNovo-Georgievsk, an my Grandmother's Estate, Beletskovka, where I spent many ahappy summer in my childhood.

My Great-Grand Father Leonid Horvath, who married my Great-GrandmotherMaria Pilar von Pilchau, had led an easy going frivolous life, and hadsquandered his fortune, bringing the family to ruin, and when he died inLondon, England, he left his widow penniless, with five children, who were keptand helped by the rest of the family.

The eldest son, who became later General Dimitry Horvath, and GeneralGovernour of Manchuria in Harbin, and Chief Engineer, constructing theTrans-Siberian Railway, which is the longest Railway in the World(Moscow-Vladivostok almost 10,000 kilometers)- when he had made his fortune,bought back the family Estate Revovka, where my Mother was born in 1884, whichhe gave for life to his Mother, my Great Grand-Mother Maria Horvath, so thatshe and her children would have a home.

Revovka, as I remember it lay in low lying country, surrounded bymeadows and wheat fields, with an old typical old fashioned Russian Farm EstateHouse, the type described by Chekov, in the midst of a Park of old Wall-Nuttrees.In Autumn when the leaves would fall from the trees, all the Alleys inthe Park, would have knee deep carpets, of dried Wall-Nut Tree leaves, and onewould wade through these leaves, enjoying the sound of the cracking crispnessof the dry leaves under ones feet.

Once, when walking with my Mother in the Park, I saw a little frogjumping ahead of me, and ran after it, stamping it to death.My Mother on seeingthis gave me a good thrashing, and up to now, I remember the bitter tears Ished for the poor little frog which I had killed, and this is one of the littlechildhood tragedies that one never forgets.

I also remember Mother telling me that when she was a little girl, sheonce walked alone, in this same Park, and at the end of an Alley, she saw alarge gray dog, that looked like an Alsatian.On reporting what she had seen,people went to the spot, and saw footprints, in the wet earth, which wereproved to be footprints of a wild wolf.

My Grandmother, Catherine born Horvath, had married in her secondmarriage a Colonel Michael Zaharovitch Veletskli who was Commanding Colonel of anInfantry Regiment, stationed in the small town of Novogeorgievsk, near Revovka.

I remember a Birthday, probably in 1913, when we, I and my Mother wokeup early in the morning, hearing the sounds of a Military Band, playing aMartial March outside our bed-room window, very early in the morning.This wasthe Band of Colonel Veletski's Regiment, whom he had ordered, to honour ourBirthday (Since mine and Mother's were on the same day the 27th of July, oldRussian style, and the 9th of August now) - by playing March Music outside ofour window on that morning.

I loved my "adopted" Grand-father Colonel Valets dearly.Hewas a middle s strong man, with alarge dark beard, and bright blue eyes, who was killed during the First WorldWar, Commanding his Regiment, near Brest Litovsk, on the border of presentPoland, and the Soviet Union (Polish - Brzesc nad Bugiem", by some tragiccoincidence, precisely, on this same date of our Birthday in 1915.

I remember, him probably in the summer of 1913, already in the Estateof my Grandmother Beletskovka, which he administered, when he would teach me tounderstand how to tell the time from a watch, and how he would take me ridingwith him in the fields.He would always have with him a Thermos bottle, full ofdelicious cold tea with lemon, with which we would quench our thirst brought onby the heat of the sweltering Ukrainian midsummers.

We happened to be in Beletskovka, on the day of his death in 1915, andI remember, the despair of my Grandmother on receiving the Telegram with thesad news, and supposedly, on the night when he was killed, the seventeen dogswhich belonged, to the Estate, had kept everybody awake howling.Later hiseffects were sent back from the front, with two dogs captured by the Russiantroops from the Germans, who were large brown Boxers.Grandmother, went to thearea behind the front, trying to recover his body, and to bring it, back forburial in Beletskovka, but, neither the body nor the grave were ever found, andthe Germans moved forward and the search had to be abandoned.

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To come back to Revovka, the last thing I remember was that in theCourt Yard of the Farm Estate, there was a very old large Masonry Buildingserving as a Store House, called in Russian the "Kladovaya"-(Treasure House).

My Great-Grandmother Maria Karlovna, whom we all used to call"Babushka Bielenkaya,” (The Little White Grandmother), was a distinguishedtall stiff old Lady with snow-white hair, who would always walk with a slightlimp, and a walking stick (a thrombosis after-effect from one of herchild-births).She had brilliant corn bloom blue eyes, and would always weartight light grey long to her ankles dresses, with a white blouse, and lacefrill around her neck.She had greatly contributed to the bringing up of myMother, who adored her, as my Mother's parents were divorced, when Mother was11 years old.I might add for the sake of reference that Maria Karlovna was theGreat-Grand daughter of Field Marshal Prince Michael IlarionovitchGolenishtcheff- Kutuzov, who commanded the Russian Armies, which liberatedRussia from the Napoleonic Invasion, in 1812.

Her Hobby was Folk Lore embroideries, tapestries, and lace work.Thementioned "Kladovaya", was precisely the store house, full ofcoffers, of the most beautiful woven, and embroidered cloths, and tapestries,which were occasionally brought out for exhibition, or to be given as rarepresents to some favoured person, and then aired, and put back in naphthalene,the smell of which I still remember, back to their treasure house, which wascertainly either burned or looted later during the Revolution of 1917-18.

 This just about drains mymemory Revovka, and I will now proceed describing the beautiful romantic estateBeletskovka.

Beletskovka Estate/

This was one of the Horvath Estates which had been lost by LeonidHorvath, and which my Grandmother Catherina Leonidovna, had managed togetherwith her Second Husband Colonel Veletski, to re-acquire sometime between 1910and 1912.

The Estate was situated some 10 miles NNE of the small town of Kruikov,a suburb of the town of Krementchug, on the river Dniepr, lying on the Westernshores of the Dniepr.The Estate had some 7,000 - 8,000 Hectares (or RussianDziesiatyns).Several miles of the Dniepr cut through its Eastern limits, andthere were Islands in the Dniepr, which belonged to the Estate.

The area was most picturesque.The Estate itself occupied a Hill Toparea about 3/4 of a tulle long, by about 1/4 of a mile wide.The slopes of thehill were covered by high trees, which on the Eastern side grew wild, andslopped down to humid meadows, covered with small ponds, and Bull Rushes whichstretched out of the East, and ended on the shores of the Dniepr, some twomiles away, with a very distant view of the town of Krementchug, to the SW.

 The Western side of the hillwas covered by fruit trees, and ended in a wooden fence, which faced a ruralroad.Crossing the road, on its other side was a large abandoned Park, withcentury old trees, and weeds growing up to six feet, and three over-grownAlleys, through which one had almost to cut ones way through.This old park wassurrounded by meadows, and at its extreme right end, there was little stream,on the shores of which, and on the edge of the park, grew several gnarled oldWillow trees, at the foot of which grew clumps of wild Irises, shooting theirgolden yellow blooms, out of the scabbards of the sword like leaves.Theundergrowth of the Park was full of stinging nettles, brambles, occasionalclumps of Hazel nut bushes, here and there a Crab Apple tree, and whole hedgesof white and mauve Lilacs, perfuming the Park with their scent in Spring, andwith the humming sound of pollen and honey laden Bees.

 On one occasion I was thrilled,when a small village Boy told me that a Wild Duck, had her nest in one of thestumps of the old Willow trees.We climbed the trunk some six feet, to a largehole in the heart of the club shaped trunk, and there saw lying on the saw dustof small fragments of rotten bits of wood, three or four large marble like,olive coloured Wild Duck eggs, which we took to lay under a brooding hen.UnfortunatelyI do not remember seeing the Ducklings when they came out.

 Coming down from the Hill, tothe old Park, and following the road to the left, it came out in the village ofBeletskovka.A typical Ukrainian village of only one main street of peasantfarmhouses, white washed, with thatched roofs, and brightly painted windowframes, green, yellow, red, or blue.Invariably in front of each house, therewere small flowerbeds, with long stalks of the red or white Malven flowers,adding colour and charm to the picturesque scene.In the middle of the village,and in the center of the main street, there was – as always in Ukrainianvillages, a deep well, encased, in hewn tree trunks, drinking troughs forhorses and cattle, and a long tree trunk, hinged on supports, and shooting outat an angle into the sky, acting as a crane, lowering a long thin pole into thewell, to which was attached a wooden bucket, used to bring the fresh, pure, icecold water out of the depth of the well.

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 Another road forking to theright from the main street of the village led up the Hill, to the main gates ofthe Estate house and Park, and to the area, of the stables, cow sheds, storehouses, and a large steam mill building.

The Main Gate to the residential and Park area, was as usual a somewhatmonumental structure, of the type seen leading to Estates throughout EasternEurope.

The old house of the Estate was a simple old fashioned, one floor,ground level structure, with some 10 rooms.My Grandmother, whose main hobbyseemed to be in some way connected with always building something new, decidedwith her Husband to build something of a palatial mansion, and this buildingwas completed just at the time when World War 1, started, and a year later in1915, her husband was killed.

So coming in from the main drive-in gate, following the crest of thehilltop in a South-North direction came the new house, with the front facingeast.This in a straight line, was followed by the structure of the old house,and the hill top ended, with a small Greek Orthodox Church, built in the 19thCentury, white washed, with blue onion shaped, spires, surmounted by the doublebarred Greek-Orthodox Crosses.(All the Horvath family was Greek Orthodox).Justfollowing the Church, and at the end of the hill, my grandmother had built anew family Mausoleum, a small Chapel, with an underground vault for severalcoffins, and although this was built and new, fate so willed it that none of usor our family were ever buried there, because of the upheaval which followedand ended in the Revolution in Russia, and Communism, and our whole familybecoming dispersed throughout the World.

 The new house, founded on aspacious basement, ample living room halls, on the main floor, and a bedroomarea on the first floor, had something like 15 rooms.The main Drawing room inthe center of the ground floor, was faced by the entry hall, which led out onto the main terrace, facing West, and the terrace was embellished by fourGrecian Columns, which supported the roof of the terrace, the later leadingdown through widely spread steps, to the main drive-in.The back of the maindrawing room, led out, to a back terrace, that seemed to be partly suspendedover the declining hill to, and through the tall trees of which one had adistant glimpse of the river Dniepr.On the terrace, during spring and summer,were large wooden barrel like flowerpots, containing flowering Azalea trees.

The whole house outside was painted white, and everything smelt offresh paint and mortar, like all new houses do.Grandmother, in all her tragedyand despair of the death of her Husband, and the disaster, which followed, ofthe Revolution, would always repeat and old Russian superstition, that oneshould never build for oneself a new house, and live in it, as it brings badluck.

The happy months of my childhood, during summer visits there were madedoubly happy, by the lovely presents showered upon me.I was given a smallchildren’s coach drawn by two ponies, to drive around in, and also a small PonyStallion, who was a real Devil, since he had belonged to a Circus, and had beentrained to do all sorts of odd stunts, one of which was to throw the rider, andgallop off to his stable.

Once I was thrown this way in the Park, and, fell up to my neck, in aDuck Pond full of green slime, and mud, an had quite an effort to extricatemyself, from ignobly drowning in the mud.At another occasion, my mount tried toget rid of me, standing on his hind legs, neighing, and bucking its, back, andwhen this did not succeed, took off at a gallop, which I could not control,straight to the stable, and passing the open gate of the same, I hit my head,against the cross post and narrowly escaped getting killed.

Below the house, at the foot of the hill, towards the Dniepr, there wasa damp meadow with small ponds, and rivulets, covered with aquatic vegetationand masses of white water lilies, with their flat, glistening, green leaveslike pan-cakes, floating on the surface of the water.There was a tale amongstthe village folk that during the Mongol invasion, the village population wouldflee to these meadows, and would submerge in the ponds hiding under theseleaves, sticking the tips of their noses under the leaves, to be able tobreathe.

 Often the village fishermen,would go down to these ponds with drag nets, and would come back with largebaskets full of fish, Pike, Roach, Wild Carp, and a delicious small round andflat silvery fish called "Karas", which was delicious fried in butterand sour cream.Once they came in with a giant Carp, which three men had tocarry, and it must have been at least four feet long, and had the weight ofsome 30 to 40 kilos.Wild Carp apparently grew to that size in those ponds.

North of the Estate there was a large wooded area of age-old oak trees,which belonged to the property, some two or three thousand Hectares large.Inspring the foot of the forest was covered by a mass of small woodland irises,of a deep blue colour, and in Autumn the forest was a favourite Mushroomcollecting ground.

Once towards the evening when we were sitting, on the main terrace ofthe house we suddenly noticed a wonder on the horizon floating in the air, lowover the meadows a ball of fire, that would touch the grass, bounce off, driftagain in the evening breeze, and again come down and singe the grass, leavingtraces of smoke trailing behind it.

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 Grandmother, immediately calleda workman, and told him to saddle a horse, and go out and see, what thisapparition was, and he galloped out and returned shortly, shivering from frightsaying that it was a "Zshmiy", in Ukrainian a Serpent, which meantaccording to a local belief, that a "Zshmiy", was the spirit of a manwho had died, and who would come at night to the peasant house where his widowlived to visit her.Later naturally we found out that this Fire Ball, was aconcentration of electro-magnetic swamp sparks which is a well-known Phenomenonof Nature.

In late summer, there was also the harvest of Water Melons.Whole carloads, of these enormous green globes, were being delivered to the nearestrailway station, to be sent to Petersburg, and Moscow, and I can see thestrange, comic appearance of a field covered by hundreds of these Water Melons,before the were harvested.

Talking of Water Melons, I remember we had a man cook called Nikanor,who was big, strong, and fat, and had an enormous belly.He was very proud thatbefore he came to us he had worked for the Princes Yusupoff.I would always saythat Nikanor’s big belly was because he had swallowed a Water Melon.

 Once, I saw a peasant womanwalking in the yard, with a huge swollen belly, she was obviously pregnant,but, at my youthful age I knew nothing of pregnancy, or such matters, andappalled at her appearance came running to my Grandmother, saying that I hadjust seen a woman walking in the yard, who had swallowed a Water Melon.

 In the Farm Yard, there was akitchen where food was prepared for the workers - Sour Cabbage soup, Buck WheatGroats, and my favourite dish, which I say has remained my favourite for life"Vareniki", triangular Ravioli like cookies, filled with cottagecheese, thrown in boiling water, and served with masses of melted hot butterand sour cream.I could and can eat about two-dozen of them in one session, and analternative dish, as a desert is to fill the "Vareniki,” with sourblack-red cherries, and serve and eat them the same way with hot butter andsour cream.I would wait impatiently when "Vareniki,” would be served inthe Worker's Kitchen, and eat my fill, until I could hardly walk back home.

Every evening the milk maids would come to my Grandmother from theDairy farm, and bring big dishes, with enormous balls, about the size of largewater melons of butter, which had been made that day, and pails of sweet cream,which could then be deposited for storage in the Ice Cellar.

 These Ice Cellars, common toall country households throughout Eastern Europe were underground basements,with steps leading down to them, and nothing but a roof showing on the surfaceof the ground.During late winter, workmen would chop large cubical blocks ofice out of the river, and bring large quantities of these blocks, and depositthem in the Ice Cellar.It was hardly believable, but the Ice held fastthroughout the whole of summer, keeping food and vegetables fresh and producingthe Ice for the making of Ice Cream, during the hot summer days.There wasalways a smell of Pickled Cucumbers in these Ice Cellars, as they storedamongst other things many barrels of pickled cucumbers, always very delicioustaken out of their brine spiced with Dill, Laurel leaves, peppers and salt, andmany other mysterious ingredients such as Oak leaves etc.

 Talking of food, one ofNikanor’s specialties was a desert made out of half a Water Melon filled with adelicious jelly.And pieces of other fruit served ice cold.Or little basketsmade out of half an orange skin, filled with Orange flavour Jelly, which wasalso very good.

 One of the unusual situationswhich would occur every spring in Beletskovka, were the folds of the low lyingfields and meadows, through the melting of the snows, and the overflowing ofthe Dniepr, which created a fast sea of floods from Horizon to Horizon onlyleaving Islands, of elevated ground, and hill tops, like the hill where thehouses of Beletskovka were built, and the villages on dry ground and isolatedfrom the rest of the land for several weeks.Communication during such periodswas possible only by boat.My Grandmother arid her staff, during such periodswhen they had to go to town to Kriukov, and Krementchug, would use a largewooden raft, on which would mount a horse drawn carriage, with the coachman andits passengers, and then several men with poles, would ferry the raft along,the flooded fields and meadows for several hours, until they got to town, andthen came back naturally the same way.

Another character, which I must mention, was an old frock-coatedorthodox Jew, called Gehmann.This character had a large family of children andlived in the depth of poverty.Once my Grandmother, held an open bid, for thesale of milk and butter produced in the Estate, and although, Gehmann's offerwas not one of the best, she decided to award him the contract, taking pity onhis poverty and children.Gehmann never forgot this and his gratitude wasseveral years later demonstrated during the Revolution, which matter I willdescribe later, when I come to that period.

This about drains my memory of life in pre-Revolutionary Beletskovka,and this place has remained one of the happiest places, of joyous childhooddays, in beautiful in a way unique surroundings, and a dearly beloved formermaid of my Mother's from Revovka, who then became my Nurse when I was born,Nadia, whom I even mentioned in my Babyhood prayer, before going to sleep inthose days.

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And a final incident vivid in my memories of those days, of a bigshaggy village dog, which had been almost stoned to death by village urchins,and thrown into the swampy stream at the back of our house, with a heavy stonetied to its neck with the intention of drowning it.

Someone from our household found the dog half-dead before it haddrowned, and brought it up, and it lay on the floor of a basement on some oldsackcloth with a gapping wound in its head, oozing brain matter.My Mother dideverything possible with bandages, and iodine in an effort to save the pooranimal, who would only give a sign of life by occasionally lapping a little bitof milk, and thankfully looking deep into the eyes of the person tending it.

All to no avail, - in a day or two the dog was dead, and this - as ifan omen of the cruel years to come, and which at the time no one in the leastsuspected, has remained in my mind as a warning of the bestial cruelty alreadyimplanted in the minds of children capable of such an act, and multipliedmanifold in acts of "man's cruelty to man" demonstrated in history tofollow.

Ekaterinaskiy Dvoretz(Catherine Palace) Tsarskoe Selo

Early Childhood at the RoyalPalace

 I was frequently brought witherby my Mother when she was visiting the Empress, who was my Godmother, and leftto play with Grand Duke Alexis at the Catherine Palace in Tsarskoe Selo.

On other occasions when Mother was away on distant travels, either sentby the Empress to Siberia, with Anna Virubova, a Lady-In-Waiting to theEmpress, to visit Grigoriy Rasputin, in his village Pokrovskoye near Tobolsk,or on a trip to Japan, to visit my Father who was stationed for a short whilein Yokohama, I was left to live with my Governess, in the Apartment of AnnaVirubova, in Tsarkoe Selo, and was almost daily brought to the Palace to playwith the Grand Duke.

The earliest event remembered connected with the Royal family, happenedas told by my Mother, not in Tsarskoe Selo, but at the Livadia Palace in Yalta,one summer.

As a small child I was playing in a Drawing Room of the Palace, in thepresence of my Mother, and the Grand Duchess Anastasia, who was some 6 yearsolder than I.I suddenly picked up from a table, a valuable Saxon Porcelainfigure and ran with it in my hands, whereby there was imminent danger that itwould fall out of my hands and break on the floor.

My Mother ran after me, wanting to save the figure: whereupon the youngPrincess Anastasia cried after Mother, - "Leave him alone, let him playwith it, - it does not matter if it breaks, it’s not ours, its governmentproperty.”

During my visits to the Palace in Tsarskoe Selo, we would always playwith Alexis, chasing each other, round the spacious Reception Halls& andDrawing Rooms, playing "Hide and Seek", or sliding down a TobogganChute, constructed out of wood, with a highly polished Parquet Floor, slidingChannel, on which one would slide down, sitting on small squares of speciallymade small carpets, used for the purpose.This shute was built at the time ofCatherine the Great for her children.

On one occasion, in the private Drawing Room of the Empress, which hadat one end a Mezzanine, in the form of a balcony, connected with the main roomby a wooden staircase, we ran up to the Mezzanine chasing each other.Up thereAlexis stumbled, and pushed over, a large mirror, which was standing on thefloor in a Mahogany Frame.The Mirror came crashing down, narrowly missingAlexis, who could have been badly hurt.Naturally, this incident was cause formuch discussion, as the Grand Duke Alexis suffered from Hemophilia, andexposure to any wound or accident, was a permanent menace to his health, if notvery life.

At the doors of all the Halls in the palace were posted permanentGuards, mostly young officers from the Guards Regiment on duty at the Palace.Everytime one of the young Grand Duchesses, or the Grand Duke would walk or run by,the Guards would stand at attention and salute.

On one occasion I complained to the Empress, asking why when I wentalone no one would salute me, and the Empress laughed heartily.

Five o'clock in the afternoon was "Tea Time,” of the Royal family.Tea,cakes, and hot buttered scones were served.There was always fruit for thechildren.Strawberries and cream in winter time, when snow and frost wereglistening out of the windows, and I do not know why, always plates of coldcurded sour milk which was profusely sprayed with sugar, and cinnamon powder,and eaten by the children.

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One day, when I was running alone through the Halls of the Palace, anofficer on duty came running after me, who asked me to pass on a message thathad come through by telephone from St. Petersburg, to the Empress or to one ofthe Grand Duchesses.He said "Please tell Her Majesty, or one of the RoyalHighnesses, that Dr. Karovine, called saying that he is now at the houseVoznesenskaya Street No. 25.”(Karova in Russian means Cow, and Voznesenskayameans Resuscitation.)I ran to the Empress and said "Auntie Baby theResuscitated Cow No. 25, has just telephoned you" (Voznesenskaya Karova No25 has just telephoned you.)This was cause for much merriment, and was oftenmentioned thereafter, associated with my person.

Note: "Auntie Baby", was the name with which I always calledthe "Empress" which arose from the fact that when I was a Baby, andwas always addressed by the Empress as "The Baby", I made out of itthe name "Auntie baby", which staid on thereafter.My knick-name inthe family was "Titi", derived from the French "Le Petit",and the "Empress" later frequently used the name "Tili" inher correspondence with my Mother, which meant "Titi-Lily" -"Lily" being my Mother's name.

 Another combination of namesfrequently used by the Grand Duchesses was

"O T M A'", which was a combined code of the first letters oftheir four names 0lga, Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia.

In the Palace Park in winter, sledging, skiing, skating and buildingmounds of Snow and Snowmen was practiced.I remember many times building snowmenwith the Royal children, big, fat snowmen, with a Black Hat, a Carrot for anose, and a broom in their hands.Also many times, the Emperor, coming inthrough the Garden Terrace, leading to the private Drawing Room of the Empress,with Rosie cheeks, from the outside cold, and snow crystals on his beard, witha smile and a teasing joke, walking past me.

One important occasion, when I was some 6 or 7 years old was myconversion from Lutheran to the Greek-Orthodox religion, at the Cathedral ofTsarskoe Selo.

I had originally been Baptized, Lutheran at birth, the religion of myFathers and the Empress as stated had been my Godmother, and my Uncle August myGodfather.

 The fervently believingEmpress, who was also deeply Russian patriotic, insisted, obviously because ofmy family's close association with the Royal family, and my friendship with theGrand Duke Alexis, that I be converted to the Greek Orthodox faith (whichanyway was the religion of my Mother, and the official religion of the RussianEmpire.)

 I clearly remember thisceremony, and the religious service which took place at the Cathedral ofTsarskoe Selo, and which was attended by the Empress, and her daughters, andwho was again for the second time my God-Mother, and who blessed me after theService, with a large Holy Image (Ikon), of Alexander Panteleymon, my PatronSaint, which was given to me by the Empress, and later lost with everythingelse in the Revolution.Also she gave me a fairly large, massive Golden Cross,on a chain, with her initials, which I used to wear as a child, and which waslikewise lost.

At one occasion when sleeping, in the Bedroom of Anna Virubova, in herhouse at Tsarskoe Selo, I believe at the time when Rasputin was assassinated inDecember 1916, I was terrified, when I went to bed, and the lights were put outin that bedroom, to see a luminous crucifix, hanging over my head, behind me onthe wall.I screamed from fright, and called my Governess, who came in put onthe light, and explained to me that the crucifix was painted withphosphorescent paint,

 Up to the age of 8, as was thecustom in those times, I would run around with long hair, as may be seen onphotographs in my possession, and in July 1916 when my Mother went to Japan tovisit my Father, and I was visiting the Palace, the Empress decided that it wastime, and I was old enough to have my hair cut.

 I was taken by the GrandDuchess Olga, and her sister Tatiana, to their Bedroom, on the first floor ofthe Palace, seated in front of a mirror on their Dressing Table, my shoulderswere covered by a white sheet, and the Court Hair-Dresser was called, whorapidly cropped my head, giving me at last the boyish manly appearance whichwas considerably overdue, and much to the merriment of the Grand-Duchesses.Asan outcome a Telegram was sent to my Mother, Informing her of this importantevent.The Telegram reached her at a wayside station in Siberia on her way to Japan,and I have it in my possession together with other letters and documents,treasured Souvenirs of the Royal family inherited from my Mother, and in mypossession.

Today I greatly regret that only these are the view memories which haveremained with me of those long ago days with the Royal family, and in theirPalace.As an eight year old child, which was my age when I was last with them,what knowledge could one have that they and the whole World which theyrepresented was about to crumble, and have cognizance of the fact that everylittle fragment of what took place around one, should be grasped and retainedin the soul and memory, hidden away in the depth of ones heart a cherishedtreasure, for the rest of ones life.

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ChildhoodDays in Estonia

 A cousin of my Mother's (twiceremoved) Alexandra von Harpe, born Baronesse Pilar von Pilchau, daughter of aBrother of my Great Grand Mother Maria Karlovna Horvath, born Pilar vonPilchau, had an Estate some 20 miles from Reval called Hark, where she livedwith her husband, and three children Roland (Bob), Marcel, and Alix (Lixi.)

Alexandra von Harpe (Nick-named in the family "Bibka"), alsohad a Sister Marion Pilar von Pilchau, who remained unmarried, and is stillalive today and lives in Hamburg, Germany, with her niece Alix (Lixi.)They alsohad a Brother Dimitri, who was married to a Danish Lady called "Jenny.”Hewas killed in a car accident in Estonia just before the Second World War, andAlexandra von Harpe, died in Hamburg on 8 October 1952, strangely enough on thesame date as my Mother, who died 11 years later on 8 October 1963.She was myMother's favourite, loved Cousin, and was married to Herman von Harpe, a cousinof my Father.

Their Father Baron Pilar yon Pilchau, married a Countess Alix Kotzebue,who was their Mother and known as "Tante Alix", who died in Poznan,Poland in 1943, at the age of 94.

Since Alix Kotzebue, was the last of her name, and on marrying Pilarvon Pilchau, the name of Kotzebue, would have become extinct, by special Decreeof the Tsar, the title of Count Kotzebue, was transferred to Baron Pilar vonPilchau who on his marriage became Count Kotzebue, Baron Pilar von Pilchau hisson Dimitri (who anyway died childless) inheriting the title of Count Kotzebue,whereas the daughters, Alexandra and Marion were Baronesses Pilar von Pilchau.

In the 1870-ties, their Father Count Kotzebue, etc., wasGovernor-General of Russian Poland, with official residence in the Royal Castleof the Polish Kings, in Warsaw, Poland, where his daughter Alexandra was bornin 1877.During times of the pre-World War 1, Russian occupation of Poland,which lasted more than 100 years, there was even a street in Warsaw, calledCount Kotzebue Street.

The old Countess Kotzebue, when I knew her in Poznan, during the last 2years of her life, would spend most of her time in a Wheel-Chair, and wouldtell me of her reminiscences as the wife of Governor General of Poland,describing State Balls, at the “Zamek” (Royal Castle) in Warsaw.She also knewpersonally, the great Pianist and Composer Franz Liszt, who would come toWarsaw during that period, and give concerts at the Residence of the GovernorGeneral, to which all contemporary Polish Aristocracy was invited.

My wife Inge, as a young girl, living in Reval, was presented to theCountess Kotzebue, who in the 1930-ties in Reval, appears to have maintained aremnant of tradition of Baltic German Nobility, whereby at her house, once ayear a Ball was held, at which were presented to her, growing up young girls ofrecognized families who had to courtesy in front of the old Countess, and kissher hand.A custom similar to the coming out of "Debutants,” practiced evenstill today in England and the United States.She obviously was in those days inReval by Rank and Age the First Lady, of the Baltic German Society, ruined,expropriated, and decimated as they already were in those days in Estonia, weretrying to keep up old traditions for the young generation.

 When my Mother went to Japan in1915, to visit my Father who was taking over the Russian Imperial Cruiser"Variag", from the Japanese Government in Yokohama, (a story which Iwill later tell when I come to that period), she left me in summer to stay withher Cousin Alexandra yon Harpe, and her children in the Hark, - Estates.

 Hark was a beautiful oldEstate, with an ancient old house, surrounded by a spacious Park of old trees.Inthis house in Hark the Russian Emperor Peter the Great, had signed a PeaceTreaty with Charles XII of Sweden, in l718 (P), although this was said, I havenot been able to confirm the fact historically.

 There was also a family Ghostin the old house.It was said that every New Year's Eve, exactly at Midnight, ahorse drawn carriage, with a lot of noise would stop in front of the frontdoor.A footman would run to open the entrance, and would return saying that"There was nobody there", although all the invited guests and hosts,had heard the carriage arriving.My Mother and I as a, small child, werewitnesses of this mystery, during a New Year's Eve reception, of 1915 or 1916.The"Mystery,” was never clarified.

 During that particular summerof 1916, when I stayed in Hark, my young Cousin

"Lixi" was bitten by a Copperhead snake in the Park.She wasabout to pick-up, what she thought to be the feather of a Pheasant, and itturned out to be a snake, which bit her in her hand.As young as she was, shewas profusely treated to Vodka, which was in those times believed to be thebest cure for snakebite, and to which she was treated in quantity, withcomplete disregard of her young age.Apparently neither the Vodka, nor the snakevenom had any really bad after effects on the patient.

 One day at the villageBlacksmiths, of Hark, I saw another copper snake, held, in Iron Pincers, whileits head was being burned out with a red-hot iron.Afterward the dead snake wasthrown in a nearby pond, which was probably the proper kind of castigationadministered by the village Folk to their mortal enemy - the copper head snake.

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A permanent mischief-maker in the household was a monkey called"Jako.”This creature would constantly break-out of his cage, and on oneoccasion when my Mother arrived from Petersburg with a large box of Chocolates,which was left on a table in the drawing room, the Monkey broke loose, grabbedthe box, climbed up on the cornice of a column, high up under the ceiling, andate the Chocolates, one by one, throwing the papers down, at the faces of thedisgusted guests in the house who had gathered down below to witness thisoutrageous act.

At another occasion the Monkey appeared in front of a gathering ofdistinguished guests, with, a Rubber Syringe under his arm, stolen from an oldmaid Governess who chronically suffered from constipation.The Governess wasalmost hysterical, crying, "Give it back, you villain Jako.”Amidst laudapplause of the gathered guests

Jako bit the bulb of the Syringe to pieces, spitting down pieces of it,at the people down below, from his vantage point on top of the Column.

After many more - even more disastrous performances, I was told that"Jako,” was put away in safe keeping in a Zoological garden.

 There was also the case of aHedgehog, found in the Park, and of an evening introduced into the bed, of aparticularly obnoxious visitor, who was spending the night in Hark.Shortlybefore retiring for the night, somebody controlled the bed to see if theHedge-Hog was still there, and found that the little, and very prickly animalhad disappeared, but, had left as a visiting card, the bed sheets covered byprofuse quantities Diarrhea, obviously brought on by its state of nervousness.Hardlyany time was left to change the bed sheets, to avoid a scandalous episode.

 Thus were spent the carefreedays in lovely Hark, of which remains a group photo of myself with "AuntBibka", and her children Bob, Marcel and Lixi, taken in the Drawing Room,which was the stage of "Jako's" performances.

During the summer of' 1915, or the first year of World War 1, my Fatherwas stationed with a squadron of six Imperial Russian Destroyers, in the Portof Reval and the squadron would constantly go into action against the GermanNavy.Father commanded the Destroyer "Voyskovoy"(Russian name for"Warrior".)

Every time Father ship would go into action, I remember my Mothersaying "Good-bye", to him with bitter tears, as all soldiers wives doin such circumstances, when they think they may never see their beloved husbandagain.The in the evenings after leave taking, Mother would take me down to theSea Front Boulevard, and in the light of a full moon, appearing anddisappearing behind fast flying clouds, we would see in the distance thesquadron of Destroyers, steaming out to Sea, in search of contact with theenemy.

On one occasion, and it was my Birthday, and just before my Father wasdue to leave on another expedition on saying "Good-bye" he gave me asmall Golden Medal, oval in size on a chain, with the figure of St. George andthe Dragon, on it, and the inscription in Russian on its back "Spasi iSahrani” – “Papa i Mama” and the date of my Birthday 27 July 1915 (Old style.)(Spasi i Sahrani means "Save and Protect").During the Second WorldWar, I lost this medal, already when I was 32 years old, during a Tank Battle,with the Soviet Army, near Rozana, Eastern Poland, which incident I will laterdescribe, when I come to that period of my life.

 On another occasion, my Fatherand his Destroyer, was called out to Board and take prisoner the officers andcrew of a German Cruiser the “Magdeburg,” which ran aground on a Sand Bank, inthe Baltic somewhere in the vicinity of Pilau.A historically important eventdeveloped from this incident.Father claimed that he was one of the firstRussian officers to go on board the "Magdeburg,” to claim the surrender ofthe Cruiser and its crew.The first thing done, was a search instituted for thesecret codebook of the German Navy.This book was nowhere to be found.Suspectingthat it may have been thrown overboard, a Diver was submerged to search thebottom of the Sea, in the vicinity of the stranded Cruiser.This provedeffective.The body of a German Seaman was found, lying drowned and grasping inits arms, pressed to its chest the important Code Book.

This Code was then passed on to the Allies, and the British Navy, andapparently the High German Naval Command, up to the end of the War neversuspected that their Code, was in the hands of the Allies, their enemies.Thuswhen the Battle of Jutland (in German, the "Skaggerack Schlacht")took place the British Navy being in possession of the Decyphered German Code,knew all about the movements of the German Battleships.When Father came backfrom this expedition, he brought with him Souvenires from the "Magdeburg,”some of which I received.German Sailors' Caps ribbons, with the name“Magdeburg,” on them, and German Naval Officers Daggers.

 While in Reval, we lived in asmall rented house, many Centuries old at the foot of the "DomeKirche" (The Reval Cathedral).The old house was sunk in the ground severalfeet, through age.One went down several steps to come to the entrance.Once inthe street in front of the house a strange animal appeared.It had the head of acat and the hind body of a Rabbit, with a Rabbit’s tail.Supposedly, it was ahybrid between a cat and a Rabbit.

The last memory of Reval of those times was lying in a bed, and seeingthrough the window, a light high up in the tower of the “Dome Kirche”, hearingthe sounds of the Organ player, practicing late into the night.

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 The "Ritter undDomkirche" in Reval had, and is still believed to have its inside wallsdecorated with seventy four Coats of Arms, of the 74 Noble families of the"Baltische Ritterschaften" or Baltic German Nobles in Estonia,amongst which is also our Coat of Arms.Apparently the older the families thehigher near the ceiling; the Coats of Arms were installed.The old Church datesfrom the XIII Century

This seems to bring to an end my early childhood memories of my shortstays in Estonia.I do not remember my Grandparents Joachim and Ida von Dehn,who both died in 1910 and 1911, respectively.Grandfather spent the last yearsof his life living in Reval, where he died and was buried in Mehheküll, nr.Wesenberg(Rakvere or possibly the Koppel Cemetery nr.Reval, and Grandmother is buried inher Estate Nömküll, likewise nr.Wesenberg.I was at that time 2 and 3 years old,and my Mother said we would visit the Grandparents, but, naturally I do notremember them at that, my early age.

To wind up the memories of this early age of my childhood, I see agallery of persons drifting through my mind.Anna Virubova, close friend of theEmpress and my Mother, whom I loved dearly and from whom I still receiveletters today from Helsinki, Finland, where she lives in a Russian monasteryand is more than 80 years old (1965).My cousin Boris (Robert) von Dehn, who asa young Lieutenant of the Guards of the Navy, would come to our apartment inSt. Petersburg, very frequently and play with me, throwing me up to the ceilingand catching me, until once he bumped my head badly against the ceiling.

My Grandfather General Alexander Smolski, who was always very loving,but, a very strict, and his orderly Vasili, who was killed in the first WorldWar.My Father's orderly and valet Vladimir Loshak, who was a sailor, and alwaysmy Great Friend, and who married my Mother's maid Anna, who took care of me sowell during the Revolution of 1917, and through her loving care, probably savedmy life, by not letting me die of hunger, during the dreadful months inPetersburg, when thousands were dying of hunger, and my Mother was at thePalace under arrest with the Imperial family, and then later a prisoner at thePeter and Paul fortress in St. Petersburg, which events I will deal with moreclosely, when I come to describe this period.

My Grandmother Ekaterina Leonidovna, is always vivid and clear in mymind.I would frequently travel with her, and my Governess, by train from St.Petersburg, to her Estate Beletskovka, nr.Krementshug, a journey of two and ahalf days.We would always have a large supply of food with us, and mainlydozens of little cutlets (risoles), made from chicken meat, and covered withbread crumbs, each one wrapped up in tissue paper, and which always tasteddeliciously.Grandmother, as was the habit in those times’ would never use apublic W.C., in trains, Hotels or elsewhere, she would always travel with aChamber pot, hidden away, in a roundtraveling wooden hat box, which was alsofor my use, when the necessity arose.

On the way down by train, to the Ukraine, the train would always stopfor a couple of hours, at the station of the city of Kharkov, and I wouldalways look forward to that with great anticipation, because one would alwaysget in Knarkov, bags of delicious sweets, in the form of round sweet colouredballs, the size of marbles, which I do not remember ever seeing anywhere elsebut in Kharkov.

 Talking of sweets, there wasalso in Reval a famous candy manufacturer called “Stude" who was famousfor making landscapes of Reval, out of Marsepan (ground almonde mixed withsugar), and also animal and human figures made out of the same almond and sugarpaste.That, together with "Rahat-Lukum" (Turkish Delight), Pastilla,Toffey-like sweets, called "Tianushki", "Marmelad" sweets,were all Russian and Oriental specialties, which also included, of course, thefamous "Halva", and which are almost unknown in the Western World,but, which were the delight of all children in old Russia of those times.

Also native to the Crimea, was a delicious Liqueur, called"Massandra,” ruby red, with a fragrant flavour, which was so delicate andalcoholically weak, that we children were allowed to drink it.At myGrandfather's  E~state5Sellimbek, near Ya]lta there was aplantation of special Crimean grapes called "Damskiye Paltshiki", orLadies Fingers, narrow, long oval succulent lightly rose-tinted grapes that hadquite a special flavour.

My Grandmother, as most Ladies of that period, had always the habit ofbeing late, to whatever visit, or departure when traveling, etc.I rememberclearly the

excitement, and "Reise Fieber," going on around thehousehold, when we were getting

ready to go traveling.

In Beletskovka, it wan an established habit, since one was always lateto catch a train, to send a horseman galloping to the nearest Railway station,well ahead of the coach with horses, in which we were going to the station.The missionof this horseman, was to tell the Station Master, and the Locomotive driver, tohold up the train, so that we would not miss it, as "Her Ladyship"and her family were on the way to the Station to catch the train.Such a wishwas always respectfully carried out, and we would triumphantly arrive some 15or 20 minutes late of the normal departure time, and with all dignity go aboardthe waiting train, with a locomotive impatiently firing blasts of steam in alldirections, and the Station Master, standing at attention and saluting myGrandmother and the departing train as it slowly moved out of the station, onits long journey North to St. Petersburg.

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The Russian Revolution of1917 and the Fall of Imperial Russia

            In February 1917, while the First World War was in fullprogress, the Russian Revolution broke-out in St. Petersburg, when I was 9years old.

Shortly before its outbreak,in December 1916, Gregory Rasputin, was assassinated by Prince Felix Yusupoff,and I remember the anxiety and excitement caused by this event and how upset myMother was, and spending several nights at the house of Anna Vyrubova inTsarskoe Selo, as Mother wanted to be near the Empress and the Palace.

Father came with his Cruiserthe "Variag", which he commanded from England, in convoy service fromEngland, to Murmansk and Archangel, White Sea ports, through which Ports,enormous deliveries of armament were taking place from England and the UnitedStates, for the Russian Armies, as a massive spring offensive against Germanywas being planned for the Spring of 1917, and on January 11, he and Mother, haddinner with the Emperor at the Palace, as mentioned by the latter in hisDiaries.

The "Variag", a6.500 ton displacement Cruiser was built for the Russian Government by Wm.Cramp and Son, Shipyards of Philadelphia, U.S.A., and delivered to Runnia in1899.

She served in the Far East,in 1904 - 1905 during the Russian Japanese War, Commanded by a Captain Rudniev,and at the time when my Father Commanded the Russian Submarine “Som,” based on"Vladivostok” - Early in 1905, at the outbreak of the Russian-JapaneseWar, the “Variag,” and a Destroyer the “Koreyete,” were sunk by the JapaneseNavy in August 1904, in the Bay of Chemulpo, in Korea near Port Arthur.“TheVariag,” had put up a heroic fight before being sunk, and was considered ahistoric epic incident in the Russian Navy.

During World War 1, theRussian Navies were blockaded by the Germans and their Allies, in the Balticand the Black Sea, whereby, only a few small units, which were stationed in theFar East, were outside the blockade.

            Of the many ships sunkby the Japanese Navy, during the Russian-Japanese War, several were raised bythe Japanese, and put into service in their own Navy.Amongst these was the Battleship"Peresviet,” a Cruiser called the "Ashold,” and the Cruiser “Variag.”Duringthe summer of 1916 my Father was Commandeered to go to Yokohama, Japan, withCrews of Sailors, to man and take over, Command, of the "Variag.”TheRussian Government anxious, to have some Warships outside the blockade hadnegotiated with the Japanese Government to purchase the three raised andreconditioned Warships mentioned above , and to use this small fleet for,convoy service based in , England.Thus Father and other officers and crews weresent to Japan, took over these Warships and sailed with them from Yokohama,through the Indian Ocean and Suez, the Mediterranean to England.In the IndianOcean, this small fleet had an encounter, with the German "Pirate"cruiser "Emden" which made a get away from them, having higher speed,and another unpleasant incident occurred in Colombo, Ceylon, where they spent afew days.

            A number of Russiansailors, 17 in all deserted the “Variag,” in Ceylon, and were recaptured by thePolice, and returned to the ship.Since it was War-time, they

had to be court-martialed, and by Military Law were condemned to death.Fathersent

an appeal to the Admiralty in Petrograd, asking permission for alighter sentence,

and this appeal was refused, and the condemned men had to be executedon board the

ship, by shooting.The incident caused a lot of restlessness amongst thecrew, and

later resulted in a lot of unpleasantness, after the Revoltuion hadbroken out in Russia, and the “Variag,” was docked in Glasgow, and resulted ina kind of mutiny in Winter 1917.

From Ceylon, the shipsproceeded through the Suez Canal, and warning had been given that the watersoutside the Canal on the Mediterranean side had been heavily mined by enemysubmarines, and strict orders were given to sail through lanes, which hadsupposedly been cleared of mines.

Father disobeyed orders, feeling that at the exit of those lanes enemysubmarines may be lurking, and he was right, the "Variag", takinganother course, and coming out safely, whereas the “Peresviet,” on coming outof the "lane", struck a mine, or was torpedoed, and sunk.The“Askold,” also came out alright.

Further, when sailingthrough the Bay of Biscay, the ships ran into a heavy

storm, coal in the bunks of the "Variag" shifted to one side,and the ship leered dangerously, over to one side, finding itself in anemergency condition.There was apparently no other course left, but, to put thecrew to work to throw coal overboard, and when the ship finally righted itself,and sailed out of the storm there was not enough coal left in the bunks, tomake a port.With the greatest of effort, and burning every available piece ofwood on board, including the piano from the Officers Mess, they managed to makeport, in Southern Ireland.

While Father was in Japan, Mother took the opportunity of joining himthere and she came back, full of stories of the beauties of Japan, and thestrange customs there, and brought back with her many presents, including twoJapanese dogs, one of which a small black and white pug-nosed lithe dog called"Chinny", was with us throughout the whole Revolution.

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On that particular January1917, the last month of Imperial Russia, and when my Father came down from Murmansk,where his ship the "Variag", had arrived with a Convoy, and he hadseveral days leave, and came down to Petrograd, on his way down by train, thefollowing small incident occurred, which was indicative of the"atmosphere" around the Court in Russia at the time.

The train stopped at a wayside station and met another train going upto Murmansk, by which the Grand Duke Cyril, Supreme Commander of the ImperialNavy, and Cousin of the Tsar, was going to Murmansk.Father went up to him, topresent himself, and the Grand Duke told him."I am tired and worn out, andneed a vacation, Dehn - you will certainly be seeing the Tsar, so do me afavour and ask him to grant me a vacation".As absurd as this statementseems, it indicates what a weak position the High Commander of the Navy, andCousin of the Emperor had with the Tsar, and how favoured by the Tsar, Fatherwas, a simple Captain of the Navy, when his Chief asked him to intervene in hisfavour, in such a small matter as a vacation.The whole matter seems absurd,but, so it was, and the mere fact that Father was honoured, by an invitation tolunch with the Tsar, indicates how favoured Father and Mother were by theImperial family, a fact known to the Grand Duke and others.

Shortly thereafter, Fatherreturned to Murmansk, and to his ship, and sailed again for England, throughheavy seas, and an arctic cold in the White sea, with waves breaking over thedecks of the ship, and forming masses of ice on the guns and cables on board,and through weight creating grave problems in maneuvering the ship.

The fact that Fatheractually did sail away from Russia, at that moment probably meant that thissaved his life and that of his officers.Very shortly thereafter, the Revolutionbroke out in Petersburg, and hundreds of Officers were massacred by their ownsailors and soldiers, and this would have certainly been the fate of my Father,had not fate mercifully led him away from the shores of Russia back to England,on his Convoy assignment.

            When news of the Revolutionarrived in England in February 1917.The "Variag", I believe wasanchored in G1asgow or Liverpool, and the crew mutinied and demanded to beimmediately returned to Russia.The situation got out of control, and threatswere made by the sailors, that they would murder their own officers, even whilein England.Finally, the British Military Police had to be called on board the"Variag", and the mutinied sailors were segregated, in two groups,one who wanted to be sent back to revolutionary Russia, and the other mainlyofficers, who wanted to stay in England.With the group who went back to Russia,was Father's

orderly Vladimir Loshak, of whom I had always been so very fond of as achild, and who was married to my Mother's maid Anna.Vladimir went back notbecause he hated Father, and was also a revolutionary, but, because he wantedto get back to his wife.Several years latter he wrote to Father in England fromMurmansk, saying how sorry he was that he had left him in England, and howdifficult his life was in revolutionary Russia at that time.

To come back to theRevolution itself, as I was 9 years old, and it was 50 years ago that it tookplace.I see glimpses of it in my memory such as mobs of civilians and soldiersrunning up and down the streets of Petrograd, as the former St. Petersburg, andthe present Leningrad, was at that time called.A profuse small arm shooting wasconstantly heard, and bullets came through the windows of our apartment, andlodged in walls and furniture.

My parents had an apartmentallotted to them in the Officers Apartment Building of the Guard Marines, ormore precisely on the second floor of the building Targovays Ulitsa (Ulitsa -means Street in Russian.)No.4. This building stood across the Street from alarge Prison Building, called the “Litovski Zamok” (meaning "LithuanianCastle".)I remember the fear that struck my heart, when theRevolutionaries set fire to the Prison, and let out the thieves and prisonerswho were confined there, and who swarmed out in their striped pyjama clothingworn by convicts.We would look out of the windows of our apartment throughclouds of smoke and flying debris, thrown in the air by the flames, and trembleat the sight of the criminals, imagining that at any moment they would enterour apartment, and rob and murder us.

            While all this wasgoing on I was alone in our apartment with my Mother’s maid Anna, and latersome days or weeks later my Grandfather General Smolski, arrived and stayedwith us.My Mother was with the Imperial family at the Palace in Tsarskoye Selo,where she was later arrested with Anna Vyrubova on the 4^th of April(22 March old style), by orders of Alexander Kerensky, the at that time PrimeMinister of the Revolutionary Government.Both Mother and Vyrubova were movedout of the Palace under arrest, to the Peter and Paul Fortress in Petrograd,where they were prisoners for some days or weeks, and were interrogated andthen liberated by orders of the same Kerensky.These events are thoroughlydescribed in the Memoires written by my Mother in her book “The Real Tsaritsa,”and the Memoires of Anna Vyrubova “Souvenirs da Ma Vie,” – Payot, Paris, 1927.

            In the meantime acutehunger set in, in the city of Petrograd, and our maid Anna had more than aproblem to find food for herself and to keep me alive.In fact things got sobad, that I remember waking up in the mornings, and being so weak that ongetting out of bed, the room would go around in circles, and I would fall backon the bed in a half faint.

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Lack of heating materialbecame likewise acute, and as it was still Winter, we were literally freezingin the apartment.To keep warm at night the good Anna, would sleep with me inone bed, to keep me warm.

As mentioned the only foodavailable seemed to be rotten potatoes and turnips, and mouldy black bread, ourhouse and apartment was constantly searched by bands of drunken soldiers andsailors, climaxing they were looking for hiding officers, and arms, and at thesame time stealing whatever odds and ends they could lay their hands on.

Shooting in the streets wenton day and night, and to add gruesomeness to the scene, mobs with red flags,and screeching Military Bands, would parade the street and hold meetings inopen places and street corners, with yelling politicians holding meetings, andaddressing discourses to these starving throngs.

One such parade remainedclearly in my mind.A fairly large group of civilians marching with a large redbanner on which was inscribed the following text.

            “We have given youyour God, and now we are giving to you Communist Freedom.”This banner wassigned “The Jewish Bund.”

One day late in the eveningin April, I was overjoyed to hear the voice of my dear Mother, at the entranceto our apartment.

She had just been freed fromPrison, and came running home to fetch me, and take me and herself away, tosome place of relative safety.The next day a few things were packed in a hurry,and we left for a small place across the border in Finland, yet still veryclose to Petrograd, called Keliomiaki, near Terioki and lying on the coast ofthe Bay of Petrograd, between Wiborg, and Petrograd.From the Beach there was ahazy view of the Island of Kronstadt, the important Naval Base, and we spent agreat part of the summer of 1917 there.I remember how hot the sand on the beachwould get in the mid-summer heat of July, whereby it was said that one couldeven make hard-boiled eggs by burying them for a few minutes in the hot sand ofthe beach.

Over there existed the sameproblem of surviving and finding food.The area teemed with roaming starvingbands of soldiers and workers, who looted and murdered.A neighboring family wholived in a Villa, were all one night stabbed to death by one of these bands.

 My Mother did not want to moveaway from the area, always hoping, she would be able to get back to her belovedEmpress, and the Imperial family, but, when in August 1917, by order ofKerensky, and the Provisional Government, the imperial family were transportedto Tobolsk, in Siberia, there was no longer any object for Mother to remain inPetrograd, or any other area close to Tsarskoye Selo where the Palace was, andMother decided - in view of the dangers and hardships of life in the Petrogradarea, to go with me to her Mother's estate in the Ukraine, near Krementchug,Beletskovka.

To get on a train in thosetimes, was in itself a major feat.I remember spending hours, in the dirtywaiting room and platform at the Petrograd Station, then storming in a madrush, and together with a wild crowd of passengers, to climb into a coach ofthe train, and try and get a seat, and finally traveling several days andnights South, through Charkow, and Poltava, until we got to Krementchug, andGrandmother, and Beletskovka, a temporary quiet haven of refuge.This must havebeen in September/October 1917.

Here we stayed up to the endof November 1918, and I will now describe in detail this stormy stage of mychildhood life.

When we arrived fromPetrograd to what appeared to be peaceful serenity, after the infernal turmoilsof Revolutionary Petrograd, we found Beletskovka, and the surrounding countryoccupied by German troops, and an independent Ukrainian Government set-up inKiev with German support, headed up by Hetman Skoropadzki and General CountKeller.

I as a young boy of 9,immediately got very friendly with the German officers and soldiers, who werestationed in the Estate, amongst which were several men of Polish origin, fromthe Poznan (Posen) area of Poland, which at that time still was an integralpart of Germany, having become so during the partition of Poland at the end ofthe 18^th Century.Amongst these officers we made special friends oftwo, one a Captain Sztukowski, and another Captain Cieslinski.In 1918 whenPoland became independent, and the German armies disintegrated at the end ofthe lost by Germany first World War 1, these officers joined the newly createdPolish Army, and later in the 1930’s when my family lived in Poland, we againmet Sztukowski, and maintained friendly relations with him, when he was anofficer of a Polish Uhlan Regiment stationed in Wilno.

            The officers of the German regiment took a special likingto me, and they would mount me saddled on a large cavalry horse, and take mewith them riding in the fields and the woods of the Estate.At first I was veryfrightened of the large horse, because I had before that been always accustomedto my small ponies, but, after a short while I became accustomed to the Germanhunter, and the officers and I enjoyed these trips very much.

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            Towards the end of summer 1918, the Germans who werelosing the War, began to withdraw their troops from the Ukraine.Just about thattime I had a rather serious accident.I loved to climb on the roof of our bigcountry estate house, by means of a big tree with a lot of dried branches whichgrew at the back of the house overlooking the steep slope, which led down tothe marshes and the damp meadows leading down to the river Dniepr.

One day when I was climbing thistree to get on the roof, a branch broke under me and I came falling down some 8feet, and hit my head badly on some stones that were lying down below.A largegash, bleeding profusely had cut the back of my head and I was brought into thehouse partly conscious.A sergeant of the German Medical unit, stationed in theEstate was called in who quickly shaved the back of my head and stitched up thewound, and bandaged the head.A photo of myself and the Sergeant was taken onthe terrace of the house to record this little incident.

With the withdrawal of theGerman troops, the whole of Southern Russia was thrown in the strife of civilwar.From the North advanced Bolshevik troops who were attempting to capture theUkraine.They were being fought and resisted by independent Ukrainian units,which were fighting to protect the "independence" of the Ukraine.Againfrom the Crimea and the Don area, large units of white Russian troops commandedby the Generals Denikin, and Wrangel, were marching to fight the Reds, while inbetween large bands, of armed bandits and brigands operated in various areas,murdering land-owners, burning Estates and looting.In our area operated a bandled by a bandit called Machno, and the Beletskovka and Krementchug area wasconstantly fought over by Ukrainian troops, and bandits, and was more and morethreatened by the advancing Bolshevik troops from the North, and repeatedlychanging hands.

In this chaos, andthroughout the summer, my Mother was in constant contact, and was a link of asmall insignificant Monarchist organization, which was sending couriers toTobolsk in Siberia, trying to communicate with the Imperial family who wereheld prisoners there, and attempting to organize a rescue operation, which weakunderground movement had its headquarters in Petrograd and was organized by acertain Markoff, Anna Vyrubova, a young officer called Sedov, who was ason-in-law of Rasputin, General Count Keller, Commander of Troops in Kiev, myMother Julia von Dehn, and several other young army officers who had remainedloyal to the Imperial family, amongst whom was a certain Serge Markoff, (Norelative of the Markoff in Petrograd.).

During early spring 1918,Serge Markoff left Beletskovka, as a secret courier of the organization andmade his way in disguise to Tobolsk, and managed to establish some indirectcontact with the imprisoned Royal family.He many years later when resident ofVienna, Austria, where he worked as conductor of Railway sleeping cars, wrotehis memoirs, in which he dedicates considerable space to his stay inBeletskovka, and his expedition to Siberia, and my Mother.His book is called"How we tried to save the Tsaritsa,” written by Sergei VladimirovitchMarkov, and published by G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1929.

            I remember Sergei verywell; he was a close friend of mine.He used to make forts, and fortificationsout of gypsum, paper, and wire, and play toy soldiers with me for hours.I alsoremember him arriving from some long journey disguised as a woman, as officerswere everywhere being hunted down, tortured and shot whenever uncovered.

When the Germans withdrewthey left a lot of Army rifles and Ammunition, and I remember Sergei, and otherofficers spending a whole night, wrapping up these rifles and ammunition, andsinking them in a cesspool, of a garden W.C., with the hope of preserving them,and being able to use them in fighting the Reds.   

Then towards the end of July1918, the dreadful news was received that all the Imperial family had beenassassinated, and at first none of our group of people believed this tragicnews to be true, and hoped against hope that they had escaped and had beensaved.Also around this time a local Newspaper printed a report that my Father’sship the "Variag," had been torpedoed and had sunk with all the Crew.Onecan imagine the desperation of my Mother and Grandmother trying to keep thisnews from me.

With the withdrawal ofGerman troops complete chaos and anarchy broke out.On two occasions attemptswere made to assassinate me, a child of 10.The contention in the village wasthat if the “brat” was done away with the women would abandon the Estate andwould leave the area.

One day I was sitting in alittle house, which I had built in a tree out of an old basket, which had oncebeen used as a Baby Carriage.The tree was near a wooden fence, which separatedthe Park from the main road.Once when I was sitting in this over-sized basket,several revolver shots were fired at me from over the fence.The bullets whizzedpast me, and I tumbled out of the tree into the under-growth below, and fled.Theperson shooting at me must have thought that I had been hit.

On another occasion I wasplaying outside our main house, and saw from a distance two civilians onhorseback with rifles, riding in through the drive-in gate.I noticed themtaking their rifles down from their shoulders and aiming at me and again I fledround the corner of the house, before they had time to shoot.

The looting bands would raidone neighboring Estate after another.In one case they tied the Estate owner,his wife and three children and a governess with ropes, poured Gasoline overthem and set them on fire.

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Another neighbouring Estatecalled Skalevaya, which was owned by my Great Grandmother Maria Horvath, andwas administrated by a Manager, was raided by a Band.They found the manager'swife, in the Bathroom having a bath, and threw a hand grenade at her, tearingher to pieces in the bath.Her husband fled to the garden, and they followed himand threw another grenade after him, which exploded and tore both his legs topieces, and he also died from these wounds shortly thereafter.

I remember the funeral, whenthe two coffins arrived on horse drawn wagons, and man and wife were buried,near the little Church, which was on the Estate grounds.An adopted daughter oftheirs, who was their niece, a girl of some 16, called Pasha, was left orphan,and my Mother took her into our household, and she became my Mother's maid, andfinally fled together with us, and came with us to England in 1919, where shefinally met a Russian carpenter named Plotnikoff, who lived in London, andmarried him.

While this reign of terrorwas getting worse and worse, my Grandmother and Mother decided that it wasimpossible to stay much longer in the Estate, as we awaited any moment that wewould also be assaulted by bandits, or I would be killed.So, preparations werestarted to move to the town of Krementchug.

My Grandmother bought alarge town house, in the suburb of Krementchug, called Kriukov, from a localmerchant called Gusiev.The house apart from several apartments in the higherfloors, had a movie Theater on the ground floor.

Furthermore, shortly priorto moving, away from the Estate to live in that house, my Grandmother took outof the bank in Krementchug the money she had deposited there.Because of thefear of inflation she asked the money to be paid out in Gold Rubels, and shereceived in several sacks, more than 100,000 Rubels, which she took home toBeletskovka with her.

On that same night we wereraided by bandits, and it was seriously suggested that somebody had informedthem that Grandmother had withdrawn such a large sum of money from the Bank.

When the whole family wereseated at Dinner, and had visitors in the person of the local Greek-OrthodoxPriest and his wife, suddenly loud steps were heard in the corridor outside theDining Room and a group of armed civilians, entered the room, and with acynical smile declared “charming guests, get up and follow us" - At thepoint of pistols, we all got up and were herded down the basement into astore-room, and two men remained at the door guarding us with pistols and handgrenades pointed at us. These men declared "when we finish our workupstairs, you will all be executed.”

In the meantime upstairs,they ransacked the whole house, found the sacks with the Go1d Rubles, enteredthe bedroom of my old Great Grandmother – Maria Horvath, who was over 80 yearsold, tore down a curtain from a window, and tied pieces of it around her neck,knocked her down on the floor and tried to strangle her.

While all this was going on,my Mother later told me that I was holding her hand and told her "Motherdon’t be afraid - if God so wills - there is nothing to be afraid of."

Suddenly, we heard hushedwhispers outside the store room where we were held captives, and then the twoguards at the door withdrew, and we heard them close the door, and heard thesound of some heavy furniture being moved outside to the door, and thencomplete silence.

After a period of deadsilence, which seemed eternity, finally someone moved and tried to open thedoor.It was found that a heavy cupboard had been moved to block the door, andwhen we came out, all was still in the house, and there was no trace of theBandits.

We went immediately to thebed-room of our Great Grandmother, and found her lying on the floor, bound andgagged and half strangled by pieces of curtain, but still alive.

What had apparently happenedwas that a mounted detachment of Ukrainian cavalry, was moving past the Estatethat night, on the road down below, and one of the Bandits on Guard outside hadheard the noise of the marching unit, and had alarmed their men, who presumablyso content having found such a large sum of money, retired and fled, withouttaking the time necessary to execute us, and not wanting to alert the troopsdown below that something was taking place in the house of the Estate, if theyheard the noise of revolver fire, or the explosion of hand grenades.Verycertainly this almost miraculous appearance of the Military Unit marching pastthe Estate at night, just at the moment when we were about to be shot, savedour lives.I remember the date of this dreadful night.It was November 17, 1918.

On the following day, a closefriend of ours, a Ukranian officer called Yaroshenko, informed us that theUkranian troops in the area were too weak to be able to maintain any semblanceof law and order.Furthermore, my Grandmother was visited by a group of peasantsled by a “Commisar,” called Shkoluda, red bearded, red haired, with leeringblue eyes, who declared nothing here belongs to you anymore everything is theproperty of the people, and they started driving the cattle away from the CowSheds, and the horses from the Stables.So this was the end of our dearlybeloved Beletskovka and our stay there.

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Household effects, andpersonal belongings were packed on that same day, and with heavy hearts, and indeep sorrow, we moved to the Gusiev house in Kriukov.

We stayed there not morethan some two months.A winter of bitter cold, and heavy snowstorms arrived.Foodand fuel were short.The old Great Grandmother was ailing, and could not set outof the after effects of the shock she had sustained.I remember a dismalChristmas, with the tragedy of the death of our beloved Royal family confirmed,and the doubts as to whether my Father was still alive.The only spark of Joy, Ican find in my memory of those moments was two canaries which I kept in a cage,and who would distract me from time to time with their gentle songs.

Then the Red front movedcloser and closer from the North to Krementchug, and stories were told of theatrocities these troops were committing by mass shootings, torture of capturedofficers, to whom women commissars would burn out eyes with burning cigarettes,or have strips of' skin cut out on their shoulders, where officers had formerlyin their uniforms of Tsarist time "epaulets."Or strips of skin werecut out on the outside of their thighs and legs, where formerly staff officershad worn red stripping, on the trousers of their uniforms.In other townsofficers had been stripped naked, and herded in crudely made cages, which wereleft standing in public view in market places, and left there to die of hungerand exposure.

One day in January 1919, weheard heavy artillery gunfire coming from across the Dniepr, in the outskirtsof Krementchug, and witnessed a disorganized withdrawal of the Ukrainianforces, across the bridge into Kruikov, and to the Railroad station, wheregoods trains were being loaded.We were told that within 24 hours the town wouldbe surrendered to the Bolsheviks.

My Mother and Grandmother inpanic, began to pack and arranged for us to board a train that was shortly toleave in a Westerly direct towards the port town of Odessa, which was normallysome 10 hours train journey away.

It proved impossible to takewith us our very sick Great Grandmother, and she was left in the care of ourformer Jewish Milkman Geymann, who as we later found out cared for her for morethan three years taking her in his own household, and when she died in 1921,buried her in the local Cemetery.This all in gratitude for having received fromher the contract to buy milk from the Estate, at a lower price than others hadoffered, because he had a family of seven children, and they lived in profoundpoverty, in times before the Revolution.

The train that was standingat the Railroad siding, was composed of Box Cars and was heavily armed withmachine guns, and loaded with Ukrainian troops and arms, who were fleeing in apanic.It was also said that on the way to Odessa, there were town and stationsoccupied, by Bands of Machno, or Bolshevik troops, and we would have to breakthrough these towns, at high speed or fight the way through.The cold wasintense, and heavy snowdrifts were lying all over the countryside.

My Grandmothers greatpassion was her stud of pure blood Hannover horses, and she had a team of fourstallions, which just before the War she had imported from Germany withexcellent pedigree.She would not be separated from these horses and room wasfound in one of the Box Cars for the horses, sacks of oats for them, oureffects, and ourselves.Boxes of food supplies were also taken with us, amongstwhich were quantities of roasted hens.My dear canneries had to be left with theGreat Grandmother, as they would have never survived the cold.

So when the transport wasfinally loaded, and the gun fire from across the river was drawing closer andcloser, the train started moving out of the Station, and we were on our way.

Fortunately part of the Armystores were evacuated from Kruikov before we left, and amongst these storeswere quantities of winter army uniforms with padded Jackets, well wadded with cottonto protect from the intense cold.I had one of these Jackets on me, and othercrude peasant passengers with us in the Box Car, who were soldiers of thesetroops, had bottles of "Moonshine" vodka with them, and they weredrunk most of the time, executing Cossack dances on the floor of the Box carplaying an Accordion, and singing obscene soldiers songs.

During the night, sleepingon the floor, and leaning against a sack of oats, when I woke up next morning,I found that a crust of ice had formed between my back and a sack of oats, andI was firmly stuck to that sack, and had difficulty in extricating myself fromthat Icy Predicament.

When we started havingbreakfast we found that the roasted chicken had crusts of ice covering thetasty meat, and it was quite a problem biting through it.

And so that Exodusproceeded.The train was about to pass a station called Znamenka, and we werewarned that the place was occupied by Bands of Machno, and that we would haveto break through the station at full speed with the hope that the line aheadwas clear.We flew through the station at full speed with all machine guns andrifles firing, and we lying on the floor, behind the aforementioned sacks ofoats.The enemy likewise opened fire on the carriering train, and it was evenshelled by a gun that opened fire.Several bullets entered our Box Car, but,providence was with us, and there were no casualties, and we managed to getthrough.

At another station where westopped called Razdzielnaya, which was in the hands of Polish troops, to thedespair of my       

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(April 16, 1966.)

Grandmother, her belovedhorses were confiscated from her, which fact almost broke her heart.

After 11 days, instead ofthe normal 10 hours, our train finally arrived on Odessa, finding us in anextreme state of exhaustion, and suffering from acute Diarrhea.Odessa was fullof thousands of refugees, and it was almost impossible to find living quarters.

The town was occupied bytroops of the French General Franché Desperais, and it was full of anxiety,rumours, speculation, crime, and communist subversive agents.Food waseverywhere a major problem.My grandmother who was always very active and had astrongly developed sense of business, managed somewhere to find a source of asweet product called Halva, which was packed in tin pails, and was a paste madeof ground Walnuts, and Sugar.

I would spend hours, on thelocal market place, selling Halva by Table-spoon-full, to raise some money tobe able to buy some bread, potatoes, or other staple food, which was everywhereat a premium.This must have been my first experience in business.

Children of distinguishedRussian families were being kidnapped; and held for ransoms, in undergroundcaves, which were profusely distributed in the area of Odessa.

Then the vogue of the periodwas a Russian singer called Alexander Wertysnai, whose songs were hummed, andwhistled by everybody in the town.One of his songs called “Your Fingers Smellof Incense,” was composed for a famous film star called Vera Halodnaya, who hadapparently been killed in Odessa, because she had been acting as a Bolshevikspy.

Shortly before theoccupation of Odessa by the French Expeditionary force, the town had been inthe hands of the Bolsheviks, and mass atrocities as usual had been committed.

An incident occurred, whenthe French sent a Diver down to the bottom of the Port.The man came back in astate of collapse.He reported that the bottom of the Port was covered in humancorpses of men and women, who had been thrown into the sea, by the Bolsheviks,with weights tied to their legs.The standing up corpses were swaying in theunder-currents of the sea, and women with their long hair floating from theirheads in the water, had made a shockingly appalling impression on the Diver.

Our stay in Odessa waslimited to a few weeks.Without warning or notice, and day the French started inall haste to evacuate the city, and it was rumoured that they were about todeliver it back to the Bolsheviks.

My Mother and Grandmother ina panic, made every possible effort to obtain passage on a ship, which wasabout to leave for Constantinopel (Istambul,) in Turkey.The ship was a trooptransporter belonging to the Russian Merchant Marine the “Kherson,” but,.it wascontrolled and in the hands of the French.After great effort, and by bribingFrench officials, with some of their last jewelry, they obtained a “First ClassPassage,” but, when we got on board the ship, there was hardly enough space forus on the open deck to lie down.

After a few hours, the shipsailed, but, some five miles outside the Port stopped and anchored.This wasnight, and on the following morning, when the sun rose, we had the wholepanorama of the city of Odessa in front of us, with a view of the surroundingcountryside.We were also anchored in the vicinity of a Cruiser of the UnitedStates Navy, I believe the “Richmond” (?.)

In a short while, we watcheda highway leading into the city over some cliffs from the East, and we sawmotorized columns of Bolshevik troops moving into the city.At that moment theAmerican Battleship opened artillery fire, and from a distance of some fivemiles, we saw the impact of American shells, blowing up clods of Earth, andshelling the moving Bolshevik columns.The reason for this action was never madeclear, but, one may well appreciate the enthusiasm we experienced at thissight, and the hope that rose in our hearts that perhaps some definite actionwas about to be taken to stem the invading flood of communism at that momenttaking over the remnants of free Russian territory.This action of the AmericanWarship, to my knowledge has as yet nowhere been recorded.

Shortly after this incidentthe “Kherson” raises anchor and sailed for Turkey.Of the few reminiscences ofthis journey, remain the mixed feelings my Mother and I had on seeing thedisappearing shores of Russia, which she was never more in her life to see.Tome at my early age of 10, all this was all a great adventure, and on boardship, I met three boys, distant relatives of Princes Obolensky, and we all hada grand time together.After a while we got mixed up with French sailors intheir Mess, and they treated us to quantities of Bordeaux wine, whereupon, wereturned on deck in such high spirits, that none of our parents couldunderstand, where we had got our strength and energy from, when some heavywooden crates had to be moved on deck, and some men were strugglingunsuccessfully with them, we youngsters pushed these crates around, as if wewere adult athletes.

Here ends the first periodof my life, up to the age of 10, when I left forever the home country of myancestors Russia, in March 1919, and which I was again to see for three shortmonths during the Second World War in 1941.

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May 6/7, 1966

(Barbara’sBirthday)

Journey fromRussia to England via Turkey and Greece – 1919

So with a thousand or morerefugees, my Grandmother Ekaterina Leonidovna, my Mother and myself, we were onboard the "S/S Kherson", fleeing from probable death or persecutionby the Red Bolshevik Communist hoards, that were taking over our home country.

After some hours at anchorseveral miles out at sea the ship finally sailed taking a course forConstantinople - now Istanbul, which at that time was the capital of Turkey.

The ship was manned by aFrench crew, she was heavily overloaded, and people were lying everywhere ondeck.There was sadness and disorder everywhere.The shores of Russia inconvulsions of chaos, blood and revolution disappeared in the distance slowlybehind a curtain of sea mist, and after some two days sailing, our ship enteredthe Bosphorus, and slowly moved through its emerald-blue waters to its Westernoutlet into the Sea of Marmara, on which shores wan spread the sprawling cityof Constantinople, with its Sultan's Palaces, and hundreds of Minarets shinningin the morning sun, as we approached the city, through the narrow, windingchannel of the Bosphorus. The shores of the channel were covered on theNorthern side by sumptuous Villas and Residences of the Turkish Nobles, withthe tall thin spires of Cypress trees adding beauty to the landscape of thegardens of these residences, which sloped down to the water's of the Bosphorus.

We anchored in the Fort ofthe city called the Golden Horn, and left of us we saw the panorama of thisglorious Oriental Metropolis, with the massive structure of "AyaSophia", (St. Sophia) the great former Byzantine Christian Cathedral,converted to a Mahometan Mosque since the Turkish conquest in past centuries,with its four Minarets shooting into the sky.To our right we had a view of anelevated part of the city, covered with houses, and on top of the building ofthe Sultan’s Palace, and the one large European Hotel, the “Pera Palace,” thisbeing the center ofthe town.

In the Bay of the"Golden Horn,” were many ships at anchor and a constant traffic of smallboats, and several warships, amongst which the most impressive was the BritishDreadnaught the "Iron Duke.”

The Turkish Government hadnot granted permit to disembark the refugees, and there was talk, that we wouldbe taken to refugee camps in French Morocco, and with this end in view we wereall taken off the "Kherson", and loaded on board a luxurious Linercaptured from the Germans by the Allies, the S/S "Corcovado," which Ibelieve belonged to the Hamburg America Line, or the German Lloyd.This wasindeed a fabulous ship, of some 15,000 tons, with luxurious staterooms, a realswimming Palace, which was a wonderful change after our miserable conditions onboard the “Kherson.”

Our stay on the"Corcovado," however, was not to be long.After prolonged and heatednegotiations, between Allied authorities and the Turkish Government, it wasdecided to allow us to disembark and find accommodation on Turkish territory,in a refugee center which was about to be created on the Princes Islands, ofthe Sea of Marmara, some hours by boat from Constantinople.This is a group offour small Islands, of which two are uninhabited, and the two larger onesHalki, and Prinkipo have small towns, and Prinkipo is the site of the NavalAcademy of the Turkish Navy.

A night or two before wewere removed from the "Corcovado," and transferred in small boats tothe Princes Islands, on incident occurred on board the "Corcovado."Wewere told that amongst the refugees there were found Communist agents, who werediscovered to be in possession of explosive material, and were about to blow-upthe whole ship with the refugees on board, with the intention of destroying thelives of some important anti-communist individuals who were amongst therefugees.All I remember, that on a certain night, in a cabin underneath the onewe occupied, at a lower deck level, there was apparently a Court Martialproceeding going on, as for many hours during that night we heard heateddiscussions, and groans and cries, of the men being tried, who it was said werefinally condemned to Death.What actually happened to them afterwards, I do notknow.

As stated we weretransported to the Princes Islands, by small passenger boats, and unloaded onthe Island of Halki, which was a picturesque jewel island about 3 or 4 squaremiles in circumference, covered in luscious vegetation, and flowering trees andcreepers, amongst which predominated Camellias, and Magnolias.It seemed to bereal paradise after the Hell we had gone through in Russia.

The local population of theIsland were Greeks, and we were allotted quarters in a small wooden house,owned by some old women, very close to an old and beautiful Greek OrthodoxMonastery.The whole little town did not have more than some 30 or 40 smallhouses, and which-ever way one looked one had a view of the placid turquoiseblue waters of the Sea or Marmara, and the warm breath of the Sea Wind of Aprilspring time of this warm temperate region, brought hope of life and happiness,back to the homeless refugees, amongst whom we found ourselves.

Some 3 or 4 miles away fromthe Island of Halki, looking East to the right we had a view of the largerIsland Prinkipo, with its large buildings of the Naval College, and small boatsand Yachts, anchored on the waterside near the white buildings.

            We were taken care of and fed by the American ReliefAssociation, the “A.R.A.” headed up by Herbert Hoover, who later in the late1920’s became President of the United States

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Life on Halki, was quiet anduneventful.Poverty of the local population and primitive customs were strangeto us.I remember a house next door to us, inhabited by a Greek family.Theground floor was nothing but a shed, with a wooden stepladder leading up to thetop floor, where the people lived.The Rooms upstairs had no furniture whatever,and the room usedas a bedroom, had all the floor covered with the wool ofsheep, about two feet thick, on which the people slept.All the house swarmedwith bedbugs, which would keep one awake at night.

Once there was muchexcitement in the main street of the town, and people rushed about closingtheir doors and windows, while a procession moved down the street.When thisreached the level of our house, I saw the corpse of a dead man tied to a chair,which was being carried by four men followed by the procession of mourners.Thiswas a burial taking place, and it was the custom on the island that theuncovered corpse was carried three times round the Island, before it was put torest as a symbolic leave taking of its home.Thereafter the body was buried forfive

years, and then there was a final ceremony of exhumation, whereby theremnants were removed from the grave, and the bones broken up, and put in anurn, which was deposited in a family "Niche,” in the local Church.Thereason for closing doors and windows of houses passed by a funeral procession,was to prevent the spirit of death from entering the houses of the living.

Playing with local boys inthe street I quickly picked up some Greek and Turkish and, at times having somesurplus of American food in the form of canned goods, or cheese, I wouldexchange this with the boys for some primitive toys or gadgets made locally.

My Grandmother, who wouldnever sit still, and was very active, immediately rented some small place, withfour or six tables, and opened a Restaurant.The whole enterprise failed veryshortly, since bread, salt and mustard, were served free on every table, thelocal visitors would come and eat these without paying, and not order any foodfrom the “Menu.”Nevertheless, I remember Grandmother, Mother and me, at timessitting many hours, with an earthenware bowl on our lap, turning yolks of eggs,with olive oil, and lemon juice for hours to make Mayonnaise, the taste ofwhich I still remember was most delicious, and much better than the one we buytoday, made by "Kraft’s."

On one occasion myGrandfather General Alexander Smolski, came from the Crimea, which was stillfree and in the hands of White troops, and he visited us for several days,before going back to his property in Yalta, from where he had to finally fleeto Poland in 1920, when the Crimea was lost to the Reds.This was the last timeI saw my Grandfather alive, as later he died in 1925 in his Estate in Poland,when we lived in England.

Since my Mother was the wifeof a Russian Naval Officer, we soon made friends with British Naval Officersfrom the Warships anchored in Constantinople, who would come and visit the TurkishNaval Academy, and the Islands, and through them we got to know the TurkishNavel Officers.

The Director of the NavalAcademy, a Turkish Naval Officer of a Noble family named Sbevkhed Bey, was mostattentive, and he would at times come in a Sailing Yacht to the Island ofHalki, and take us on board for a sailing trip on the Sea of Marmara.Once whenwe were about to board the Yacht from a Dhingy, I fell overboard and scrapedthe skin of my ribs rather badly, which painful incident remains vivid in mymind.Also on one occasion, when we sailed past the two small uninhabitedIslands of the Princes Island group, Shevkhed Bey told us, that one of them wascalled the "Dogs Island", because hundreds of stray dogs, roaming thestreets of Constantinople, were cleared by sanitary squads, and brought out andlet loose to starve on that Island.

The Sea of Marmara teemedwith Fish arid Spiny Lobsters, and Sea Horses, and the beaches were coveredwith lovely shells.A especially delicious fish called the Sultan fish (Sultankain Russian), abounded, and it was Pink-Red in colour, and resembled very muchthe Red Snapper, or "Pargo Real," which we have here in theCaribbean, of the shores ofVenezuela.

The wish of my Mother, wasto try to get to England as soon as possible, to find out if my Father wasstill alive, as up to that moment we had had no news from him, and during thevisit of my Grandfather he had left Mother enough money to pay our passage toEngland.After considerable time and trouble, my Mother succeeded in getting usa passage to England, and the travel documents required.Also I must add that wehad with us Mother’s maid, Pasha, the unfortunate orphan whom we had saved withus from Russia, and it was Mother’s wish to take her along with us to England.

Grandmother, who was mostunhappy having left her own Mother in Krementchug when we had fled from there,always hoped that that town would be re-captured by White troops, and that shewould be able to go backto Crimea, still in the hands of White troops, withthat hope in her mind.So she took leave of us and went back on that sad andunsuccessful journey, which ended up in her finally getting through toManchuria to her Brother General Dimitri Horvath, where she lived the rest ofher life and died later in Peking, in 1937.This was also the last time I saw mydear Grandmother alive.

So very late in May 1919, weobtained passage to England on a Cunard Line Cargo boat the S/S"Verencia", and sailed for England via the Dardanelles, and Greece, ajourney of three weeks, calling in Athens, and the small port of Patras, in theCorinth Canal, in Greece on the way with hopes in our hearts of finding my dearFather in England.Before we left Constantinople, my Mother sent a telegram tothe still existing Russian Imperial Embassy in London, asking them to try andtrace my Father, if he was still alive, and to inform him that his wife and sonwere on their way to England.

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Journey fromTurkey to England – May/June 1919.

With the whirlwind ofRevolution left behind in Russia, bathed in a bath of blood of Civil War, massassassinations, and total anarchy, and with broken hearts having for the lasttime in our lives taken leave, of my dear Grandmother, Ekaterina LeonidovnaBeletski, and my Grandfather General Alexander Adamovich Smolski, whom we werenever again to see alive in this world, and who had gone back to Russia, asalready mentioned before, we found ourselves on our way to England, on boardthe S/S "Varencia".

The boat was a cargo steamerof some 8,000 tons, with a few cabins for passengers.These were my Mother,myself, my Mother's servant Pasha, also a Polish refugee girl Ada Yanowska.AlsoI believe a man who was a Russian refugee, whose name I do not remember.

We sailed serenely throughthe placid sea of Marmara, to the Dardanelles, which we passed cautiously,through the wrecks of sunken ships, whose funnels and masts were sticking outof the water, a sad reminder of the gigantic struggle which had so recentlytaken place here during the War, when the Allies, in an attempt, to land here,sacrificed thousands of lives of their soldiers fighting the Turks, who wereunder command of Kemal Pasha, and who heroically defended themselves, and wonthe battle.

We had a comfortable cabin,and the poor simple Pasha., not accustomed to anything like a sea Journey, wasviolently sea-sick for many days, moaning and groaning on her bunk, andconstantly demanding fresh tomatoes, and cucumbers, such delicacies, naturallybeing, completely absent in the stores of the ship those days.

The next port of call wasPireus, the port of Athens in Greece, where we docked for a couple of days.MyMother took the opportunity of taking me with her to visit the city of Athens,and in the middle of the night we went up the mountain which is in the centerof the city, on which are spread the magnificent ruins of the temple ofAcropolis.It was a full-moon night, and the ghosts of the past in the shadowsof the ruined temple, in moonlight, and the lights of the city down below, wasa sight which I have never forgotten, and have always wished to go back toAthens some day.

When we went back to Pireus,and our boat, we found a Russian submarine anchored in the port, which had fledfrom the red take-over of Crimea.The Captain of the submarine was a friend ofmy Father's, and we spent several pleasant hours with him, visiting thesubmarine.

We then sailed through theCorinth Canal, which cuts Greece in two and anchored in the small port ofPatras, on the outside of the Canal, where we loaded many tons of Raisins insacks.

A tragic accident happenedwhile we were in Patras.The ship was being cleaned and painted on her way backto her port in England, and one of the young sailors, who was painting a mastsuspended by ropes on a board high up the mast lost his balance and fell tenmeters down hitting a deck house, with his body and, falling on the deck.Thepoor fellow with multiple fractures, and many bones broken, died several hourslater in the sick-bay of the ship, and when we sailed from Patras, we had aburial at sea..He was not more than twenty years old, and had his parents andSweetheart waiting for him in England.Such sad incidents impress a youngchild’s mind, and bring a sadness which one never forgets.

The quiet rolling of theship.The blue waters of the Mediterranean, and sailing past Malta, in clearview from deck.Then one morning the monumental rock of Gibraltar, illuminatedby the rising sun.The rough seas in the Bay of Biscay, and the every daydrawing nearer hope of seeing my Father, if we found him alive in England, andthe desperate fear of what then!If he had gone down with his ship the Cruiser“Variag,” as the papers had said, in Revolutionary Russia, were all mingledhopes and frustrations in our mind, as we were drawing closer and closer toEngland, which was to become a new life in a new World, and a never forgottenperiod of my youth, and which has thereafter left a dear love for England in myheart.

Our destination was the portof Tilbury, in the Thames estuary, on the outskirts of London.We arrived thereon June 19, passing through the English channel, and admiring a never forgottensight, the “White Cliffs” of Dover, on the way.

The “Varencia,” moved inslowly, and dropped anchor in Tilbury.There was on all sides a movement ofships, tugs, and small riverboats, and suddenly a motor launch, was headed forus and came alongside, and a tall blond man, in a grey civilian suit, climbedup the ladder, and came on board.The Captain of the “Varencia” greeted him, andcame up to us, who were naturally standing on the deck fascinated by thedistant sight of London, and the activities in the Port.The two men came up tome and my Mother, and the Captain of the “Varencia” said “Mrs. Dehn – yourHusband, Captain Dehn.”My Mother must have nearly fainted from joy, as neitherof us had recognized in the clear shaven civilian, my Father, whom we had lastseen in Russian Naval Uniform, with a large blond mustache.The greeting was amixture of laughter and tears, and in the excitement of the moment, when I randown a gangway to go to our cabin, I fell down several steps and cut my leftknee open, and my leg smothered in blood, was then dressed by my Father withplaster and Iodine, lying on my bunk in the Cabin.I have a scar as a reminderof this touching meeting on my left leg up to this day.

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Father had one evening inJune been playing bridge at the still existing remnants of the Imperial RussianEmbassy, when suddenly a telegram was delivered to him.This was the message myMother had sent from Constantinople informing him of our arrival on the chancethat it would reach him if he was alive in England.

That is how it came aboutthat he came to meet us when we arrived in Tilbury Docks, on that day.So thenwe proceeded to disembark, went on shore passed the Customs and Passportcontrols, took a taxi, and drove a radiantly happy family to London, to theKnightsbridge Hotel, on Knightsbridge, (which is now known as the"Normandy," and which I visited again in 1955, when I went toLondon.) where Father had reserved rooms for us.

Driving through London wenoticed great excitement in the street, and groups of people looking up to thesky.On that day June 19, 1919, the British Airship the "R-34" hadcome back on its flight there and back across the Atlantic from the UnitedStates, and was flying circling over London, as we drove to our Hotel.

We lived in theKnightsbridge Hotel some 7 weeks, until Father rented a house in the vicinity,a small Mansion at No. 8 Walton Place, at the back of the Harrods Departmentstore.One of those small narrow old-fashioned London Houses, with a groundfloor, and two higher floors, with three rows of windows, on each floor facingthe street, and painted yellow front.

Before we moved into thehouse from the Hotel, we celebrated my eleventh birthday, and Father took me toHarrods Toy Department, and told me “choose whatever you want."So Inaturally chose the most exciting thing one could in those days, a wonderful modelMilitary Tank, 1918 vintage, with clockwork mechanism, caterpillar drive, and acannon that actually could shoot pellets.