Evacuation of Riga – Summer 1915

“Monday began as a normal day. Although ‘normal’ was a relative term lately. Ever since April, waves of refugees had been pouring into the city of Riga from the west. The population of the city was having to learn how to absorb the thousands of Jews, Poles, Lithuanians and Latvians who had been forced to flee their homes, with German forces quickly marching east towards Russia. Along with the challenges of feeding, housing and cleaning these desperate new arrivals there were rumours that Riga itself might have to be evacuated. Of course, as a precaution, some factories and other important pieces of essential infrastructure were already in the process of leaving, which was to be expected. But now there was talk of a bigger evacuation. It was almost impossible to comprehend such a thing.

Olga’s early morning shift at the textile factory was almost over. As she was gathering her things to go home and make lunch for the family, all employees were told to await an important announcement. The whole factory was informed that the Germans were advancing on the city of Mitau. Mitau was only about 50km from the capital. This was devastating news. The Russian Minister of War had declared that all industry in Riga was to be evacuated immediately. Olga was frozen in place. What did this mean? Did she still have a job? How could an entire factory be moved? What would happen now?”

This was the situation Olga Rozenvalds and her family found themselves in during the middle of 1915. Russia had been fighting the Germans for almost a year. The previous winter had been harsh in many ways. The cold had been bitter, war and disease had hit thousands of men who had been streaming back into Riga for months – sick, wounded or dead. Olga’s brother-in-law, Žanis Zekants, had been one of these men. Heading back to Riga from the Gulf of Finland with his wife and new baby, Žanis had died of tuberculosis two months before in the middle of May. War was getting closer and Russia was nervous.

Refugees From the West

From mid-April, Riga had been receiving a steady stream of refugees from Lithuania and western Latvia as the Russian army started to retreat. The Yiddish-speaking Jewish population of the region had been given less than 24 hours to pack their things and flee, most also heading east towards Riga. Towns and villages were thrown into a state of chaos and suspicion. This chaos included looting and violence by opportunists, the welcoming of German soldiers by the Baltic German elites, anger and fear at the German military burning down homes, Russian suspicion of Jews as sympathizing with the Germans, and no one knowing who to trust. Thousands of people trudged along the main road from Mitau, which was clogged with carts, livestock, dogs and people – people carrying everything they could with them, knowing that anything left behind was destined to be looted, occupied by German soldiers or destroyed by Russian troops making sure nothing useful was left behind as the Germans advanced towards Riga. These people had no idea if they would ever see their farms again, or if they were able to come back one day, if anything would be left.

On the 2^nd of May 1915, the German army attacked the important city of Mitau (modern-day Jelgava). The advance was repelled by Russian troops; however, the Germans did manage to take the western cities of Liepāja and Kuldīga. It was evident that the ability of Germany to advance all the way to Riga was very possible. By the end of June, the government ordered the entire population of Courland (modern-day Kurzeme) to leave. It was in July 1915, that the famous Latvian Riflemen were established to help defend Riga along the River Daugava.

This all meant that by the middle of summer, as many as 500,000 people had packed into the city of Riga seeking safety and refuge. The city itself, along with various charities and aid organizations, faced a tremendous challenge. Many of these refugees were sick and malnourished, so food and clean water was a priority. Different language, religious and ethnic groups started settling in enclaves within the city: Jews here, Catholics there, Lithuanians, Latvians, Poles etc. and volunteers did everything they could to help clothe and feed them.

Industrial Evacuation

As these thousands of people were evacuating east, and as the enemy crept ever closer, officials in Riga had to seriously start thinking about what to do. Russia had adopted a ‘scorched earth’ policy across Courland, to make sure the Germans could not benefit from any infrastructure, goods or resources as they advanced. But what to do about Riga? Riga was one of the richest and most industrialized cities in the Empire and its stocks of processed goods, raw materials, skilled workers and industrial machinery could not be handed over to the enemy but could not be ‘scorched’ like the countryside.

The start of June saw hundreds of train cars loaded with finished goods such as art works, cash, alcohol, precious metals, toys, furniture and monuments, including the great bronze statue of Peter the Great that the Tsar himself had unveiled exactly five years before in 1910. These evacuations were not looked upon favourably by Riga industrialists and business owners however. They were not happy to spend the time and money to dismantle their entire livelihoods and try to reconstruct them in Russian cities like Moscow, St. Petersburg and Lugansk. The Russian city governments and industrialists, on the other hand, were happy to see these changes taking place and were eager to get their hands on lucrative Rigan industry. This situation created two sides battling against each other, each looking after their own interests, but at the same time supposedly uniting against the same enemy, Germany. As evacuation became more and more imminent, some factory owners requested permission to operate until the last minute and then destroy their facilities rather than relocate. Many of these industrialists were Baltic Germans themselves in secret were not opposed to a possible German takeover of the city.

In the middle of June, it had mainly been finished products that had been shipped out and factory owners declared that to relocate their facilities was impossible. The governor of Riga, Governor General Kurlov, was caught between his city’s economic leaders and the Russian Imperial government’s demands. The decision was finally made for him however, when he was dismissed from his position and accused of intentionally delaying the evacuation of Riga’s factories. With the appointment of Major General Anatolii Zaliubovskii to oversee the process, the evacuation was no longer in the hands of the city. The evacuation forged ahead and Riga could do nothing but comply. Even with a new Russian leader at the helm of the evacuation, Riga’s business elites made every effort to delay the inevitable but to no avail.

Western countries, aligned with Russia and Great Britain, read about the evacuation of Riga with much interest and trepidation. On the 18^th of August, 1915, an article in The Mercury newspaper in far distant Hobert, Tasmania read:

EVACUATION OF RIGA.
TOWN STRIPPED OF PEOPLE AND PROPERTY.
COPENHAGEN, August 17 – The evacuation of Riga continues. All the businesses, including the banks, have been removed to Moscow, and
most of the inhabitants have gone away into the interior. Little property of any military value remains in the city.

By September, over 400 factories had left for Russian cities to the east. These industries included: metalworking, leatherworking, shoemaking, chemical factories, photography, newspapers and printing, educational institutions, banks and many more. A large number of these factories, more than 70% by some counts, once set up in their new locations, could not sustain production and folded. Some entities returned to Riga in some form or another after the war, but many found Russia their permanent home.

An example of one of these factories was the Russo-Balt company which was based in Riga and is considered one of the first car and aircraft manufacturers in Russia. It was founded in 1874 and moved into new facilities on Valmieras street in 1913. The factory was evacuated in 1915, along with hundreds of workers to Moscow, but it never made it back to Latvia. At least three different companies today trace their origins to the 1915 relocation of the original Riga factory: the Russo-Balt trailer factory, the luxury armoured SUV producer Dartz and the modern Khrunichev State Research and Production Space Centre in Moscow.

Workers Head East

Alongside the factories’ raw materials and machinery was the evacuation of skilled workers. Production could not happen without the know-how and the skills of the already trained management, administrators and labourers. How was this to look? Which workers would be sent with the industries and which would remain in Riga? It was messy and ad hoc and time was not on their side.

By government order, there were three kinds of worker evacuations:

1) highly qualified specialists who would accompany their current employers

2) skilled workers who would be sent to specific regions based on their trades

3) workers who would make their own way, basically becoming ‘refugees’

Many of these workers also took their families with them. For the highly qualified workers, a government stipend was promised along with travel expenses. Everything seemed to be in order on paper and the evacuation of workers began in July. But after several days things started to break down under the stress of hastily made plans, high levels of fear, anxiety and confusion and the shear volume of people who needed to leave.

It is likely that Olga Rozentals was one of these workers. She had been working at the largest textile factory in Riga for some years. She was young and fit, 20 years old, with no children or spouse of her own to worry about. Along with thousands of other workers, she probably ended up spending days waiting for a spot on an east-bound train, sleeping on the streets, scrounging for food and wondering how much longer it would be. Those promised money never got it. And when a spot on a train finally opened up, the conditions were unhealthy and uncomfortable to say the least. Here is my description of what Olga’s experience may have been like:

“Olga made her way to Riga’s main train station and was overwhelmed by the vast numbers of other people doing the same thing. The evacuation was in chaos. Every possible train car was being loaded with machinery, goods and other cargo. If there were places left over, only 20 to 30 people were able to squeeze into the few remaining empty spaces. Olga realized it might be days before she was able to find a place on one of the freight cars. Just as thousands of refugees were flowing into Riga from the west, thousands of workers were evacuating east.

Several days went by as Olga inched her way forward, closer to the outgoing trains. Getting a hold of a newspaper one afternoon, she read that a German submarine had sunk a ship called ‘Serbino’ just outside the Gulf of Riga as it was heading up the coast to St. Petersburg. On board this ship had been placed the great bronze statue of Peter the Great from the centre of Riga. The very same statue that had been unveiled with such excitement and pride exactly five years before. Olga felt an overwhelming sense of despair as she read about the attack. Was it some kind of omen? She remembered how she felt that day, standing there in awe of the statue of Tsar Peter, the great architect of modern Russia. It made her heart sink to know that he now laid unceremoniously at the bottom of the Baltic Sea.

Olga had to wait almost a week at the station to finally find a place to wedge herself on a train heading east. As she tried her best to carve out a little comfort for the long journey ahead, she silently took out the two photos she had brought with her. A beautiful portrait of her parents, when they were young and vibrant; and the souvenir card of the Tsarevitch Alexei she had bought during the Tsar’s visit. She wasn’t sure what was in store for the future and she was afraid. She lightly kissed each photo before tucking them safely out of sight. As she looked around her, at several other families packing into the already hot and fetid train car, she knew she would need every ounce of strength to survive.”

Aftermath

By the end of 1915, Riga had been transformed. No longer could be heard the sounds of streetcars and trains. Factory buildings stood deserted or had been converted into refugee housing. Schools were no longer operational and the buildings had been taken over for military use. Much of the population had moved to the west bank of the river. The prominent Riga Polytechnikum Institute, the Riga City Craftsmen School and the Valdemārs Sailing Schools had all been evacuated. There were no working newspapers or printing presses. Alcohol was hard to come by. Even church bells had been sent to Russia to be melted down while most of the Russian Orthodox clergy had left the city completely.

By 1917, when a census was taken, Riga’s population had decreased by 40% and at least 25% of that number were refugees from outside Riga. Half of Riga’s original population along with almost all of its industry, skilled workers, infrastructure and money had been scattered across the Russian continent, much of it never to return. Olga’s parents and other family members left behind in Riga were now facing the hardest challenge of their lives. There was no way to know if any of them would survive the next few years living on the front lines of war.

It would take Olga six years to finally make it back to the land of her birth and be reunited with her surviving family members, arriving in Riga on the 12^th of August 1921.

Sources

Much of the information for this post was taken from the incredibly valuable and well researched book ‘Riga at War 1914-1919: War and Wartime Experience in a Multi-ethnic Metropolis’ by Mark Hatlie. This book is one of the single most important resources that I have used in my years of research on Riga during WWI. Here is a short paper explaining the larger book: Riga at War

There are WWI refugee lists from 1916 on the Internet Archive website. I was able to find a family member, Ernst Pudze, the husband of Lizette Zekants, in this book. The lists are alphabetical and in Russian and are not comprehensive of everyone who evacuated Courland. It lists dependants travelling together, where the refugee was from in Latvia and where they had evacuated to by 1916. It might be possible to find someone you are looking for on this list. In this link you can see the three books in the list on the left-hand side that are for Latvia:

Refugee Address Lists (Список Адресов Беженцев) WWI