The Winter War

The Russo-finnish Conflict, 1939-1940

Eloise Engle, Lauri Paananen, Eloise Engle Paananen

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781000612516
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Histoire
• Subtopic: Histoire du monde

This book offers an introduction to the Winter War, as the Russo-Finnish Conflict of 1939-1940 is called. It discusses the Finnish resistance to the Russian take-over of their country and the Red Army in action; a campaign that perhaps changed the pattern of World War II.

1 "It Is Not Possible for You [In Finland] to Remain Neutral"

Cold wind swept across the wooded, snow-covered fields of the Karelian Isthmus. It stung the men's exposed faces with little needles of icy spray that blew from the ground and from the trees. But the Russian soldiers, singing around their campfires, playing accordians and balalaikas and warming their chilled bodies with liberal rations of vodka, were lighthearted and gay. In a few days they would liberate Finland from the evils of capitalism; they would be heroes as soon as they crossed the border and made their purposes known.

General Meretskov, forty-two-year-old commander of the Russian 7th, 8th, 9th, and 14th Armies, was pleased with his inspection tour of that afternoon. As he emerged from his staff car, however, he was thankful for his fur-lined cape which smartly covered his olive brown tunic of lightweight material. The troops, with their summer uniforms, seemed quite comfortable at the moment. Overcoats would not be needed, since the campaign was scheduled to last only a few days.

Hundreds of tanks lined the network of roads that led into Finnish Karelia. Because of the cold snap, engines were periodically run so they would be kept warm. The tanks were ready to lead the massive infantry forces when Meretskov gave the order to move. Unfortunately the short hours of daylight at this time of year would prevent extensive air operations in support of his initial attacks, but there was sufficient time for Soviet planes to paralyze the cities on bombing runs from Estonian bases. Soviet bombers and fighters numbered 3,000, to neutralize the Finnish air force of 162 antiquated biplanes and Fokkers. Also, the air arm had done a splendid job of reconnaissance these past few weeks. Roads, ports, industrial areas and fortifications had been duly photographed in spite of Finnish protests against overflying. Intelligence reports had indicated that the Finns had only a few old light-weight tanks and probably fewer than 100 small-caliber anti-panzer guns.

It was the night of November 25, 1939, and although war had not formally been declared and in fact never would be by the Russians, it was only a matter of waiting for final word that plans had proceeded as scheduled.¹ The awaited "incident" should take place the next day, and four days later the mighty Red armies under Meretskov's command would swarm into Finland. At the Karelian Isthmus alone more than 250,000 soldiers were overflowing the local barracks. There were Red troops as far as the eye could see along the 90-mile front. This was almost as many combatants as the entire country of Finland could muster, even if old men and boys were included. In spite of the fact that troops marching toward the border in the north were experiencing casualties from frostbite and cold, the general anticipated no real difficulties with the Finnish campaign. A quick victory would insure the plaudits of Stalin, Molotov, and Communist Party members all over the world.

General Meretskov had come a long way from his peasant origin. A factory worker in Moscow, he had entered the Party in May, 1917, as a member of the Red Guard. The following year he had become a political commissar in the Red Army. Steadily he had worked his way through the hierarchy of the system and by 1938 had become commander of the Leningrad Military District.

On this important evening he studied the wall map that hung in his headquarters. The only serious fortification that he would have to combat along the entire 800-mile Russo-Finnish border lay in the 90-mile front on the Karelian Isthmus between the Gulf of Finland and Lake Ladoga. The strength and fortifications of this Mannerheim Line were somewhat uncertain in Meretskov's mind but the challenge of breaching it was an intriguing one. The press likened it to the Maginot Line in France and would certainly call attention to his victories there. The 600-mile front north of Lake Ladoga to the Arctic Ocean would be virtually defenseless against the twenty powerful divisions he placed in those key areas.

The Karelian Isthmus would be strongly defended, but with the fall of Viipuri, Finland's second largest city, the Russian timetable of conquest would be nearly complete. There would be easy access to Helsinki, the capital, and from then on it would be all over. Orders were that a screeching halt must be made once the Swedish border was reached. There was to be no violation of that country's steadfast neutrality.

Yes, the isthmus would have to be taken as quickly as possible. There were many points in Meretskov's favor. The weather, for instance, had frozen the ground hard, but as yet there was very little snow. The lakes and rivers were beginning to freeze and soon the ice would be strong enough to support the Soviet heavy equipment. The network of roads on the isthmus was gaining in firmness and it would be a simple matter to construct new roads as long as the snow cover remained thin. The Karelian Isthmus itself was considered the Finn's Thermopylae because its narrowest part was only 45 miles wide. Lakes and marshes divided the terrain into what amounted to passes but the lack of rock foundation made it unsuitable for permanent fortifications. It would be good going for tanks because there were few hills of any size; frozen potato and wheat fields would make excellent battle areas for heavy artillery and armored vehicles.

General Meretskov had no way of knowing that the weather he was enjoying that evening would soon change, and that the Finnish winter of 1939 would be the second coldest since the year 1828. His Red armies were about to plunge into a frozen hell.

Across the border the people of Finland had just about dug in for the winter. November had turned the skies to gray. For weeks the low heavy damp clouds had chilled the countryside as the people eagerly awaited the snowfall which would blanket the entire land until spring. Elk and red squirrels, whose homes were almost on the doorsteps of city and village dwellings, prepared for the long season. In the north and east, lynx, marten, bear, wolf, and wolverine had retreated to their dens. The season would last until sometime in April with temperatures remaining well below zero. There would be only a few hours of daylight during the long winter months but the people were accustomed to that. Their forests of pine, spruce, and birch would soon be heavily ladened with snow; their 60,000 lakes would be hard frozen to great depths; along the southern coastline, where numberless narrow, rocky and tree-clad promontories were washed by the Finnish Gulf, ice would become as strong as granite.

In November, 1939, Finns were not concerned about the coming winter. They were, however, deeply worried about what the Russians were up to. After twenty-one years of precarious independence, relations with their mammoth neighbor had deteriorated to a frustrating war of nerves. The Russians were irritated that Finland had rejected communism in favor of association with the other Scandinavian countries of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark in the Oslo Group, and that with them she had proclaimed her neutrality. These countries were convinced that common defense measures would not be necessary, even in the face of the swift war preparations building up all around them.

There had been the rebirth of the German air force and the reintroduction of conscription by Hitler. The Italian attack on Ethiopia could have been prevented had Great Britain and France been wholehearted in their opposition and well equipped to apply sanctions. And then there was the matter of Poland. The British prime minister, Neville Chamberlain, by giving a guarantee of aid to Poland if she were attacked and then being unable to fulfill his commitment because of the sheer facts of geography, had handed Russia the key to the success of both Western and German policies. France and Britain could not aid Poland without Russian help Germany could destroy Poland with perfect security, if she had Russian consent. Whichever way Russia inclined, it could not benefit the Finns.

The nonaggression pact between Hitler and Stalin of August, 1939, was a warning so plain that it might have been written in the sky. The two countries would carve up Poland as they had intended to do ever since the Treaty of Versailles. Russia would be given license to absorb the Baltic states and Hitler could launch his first campaign undisturbed. The Western powers could neither stop nor check him.

Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania were forced to accept treaties preparing them for outright annexation by the Soviets; in September, when war broke out between Britain and Germany, the Russians set up air and naval bases in those countries. Stalin was apparently saving Finland for last because that republic might prove more difficult to deal with. For one thing, there was the ten-year nonaggression pact signed in 1934 by Russia and Finland that had five years left to run. Many Finns counted on this agreement to save them, even though Stalin announced in the autumn of 1939: "I can well understand that you in Finland wish to remain neutral but I can assure you that this is not possible. The great powers simply will not allow it."

Finnish nerves were further frayed by a barrage of insulting Russian propaganda broadcasts, newspaper stories, and speeches. Less than 200 miles east of Helsinki, A, A. Zhdanov, the commissar of Leningrad, publicly consoled his "nervous" audience: "We people of Leningrad sit at our windows looking out at the world. Right around us lie small countries, who dream of great adventures or permit great adventurers to scheme within their borders. We are not afraid of these small nations. . . . We may feel forced to open our window a bit wider. . . call upon our Red Army to defend our country. . . ."

About this time the Finns began receiving radio broadcasts from "Moscow Tiltu," a Communist Finn who had fled to Russia when the Reds lost out in the 1918 civil war. Her programs were broadcast around the clock and contained all the news from Pravda and Izvestia, as well as editorial tidbits from the Kremlin. When she wasn't talking, she played records of the Soviet army chorus singing old Russian folk songs: Kalinka," "Beryozomka," "Ei Ukhnem" and, for variety, bits of Brahms and Bach. The Finns loved the music but were disgusted when she interrupted their favorites with "friendly" announcements. Tiltu routinely referred to the "warmongering Tanncr-Manncrheim gang," meaning Vaino Tanner, Finland's finance minister (later to become foreign minister), and Field Marshal Mannerheim. Among epithets applied to Finnish Prime Minister A. K. Cajander were "clown, crowing rooster, squirming grass snake, marionette" and "small beast of prey without sharp teeth and strength, but having a cunning lust." Cajander was accused of "standing on his head, talking upside down, smearing crocodile tears over his dirty face and weeping the repulsive tears of a clown imitating a crocodile." The Finns found such vituperation against their prime minister shocking and worrisome, but typical. Of more serious concern was the editorial in Pravda on November 3 which stated: "We are going to follow our own road, regardless of where it may lead. We will see to it that the Soviet Union and its borders will be protected, breaking all obstacles, in order to reach our goal."

Negotiations between the two countries actually began on April 14, 1938, when the then foreign minister of Finland, Rudolf Holsti, was approached unofficially by Boris Yartsev, a second secretary to the Russian legation in Helsinki. Yartsev had been around town for several years and had made various contacts and some friends. He was pleasant enough when necessary and, because he was not in the position of high rank, was easy to talk with. Yartsev represented the GPU, the Soviet Secret Police, and he, along with his wife, who represented a Russian travel bureau, had gotten along unusually well in the Helsinki social world, particularly with the far left group. Nevertheless, Holsti was surprised that an official call requesting an appointment would come from a second secretary rather than the Soviet Minister.

At the secret meeting between the two men Yartsev explained that while he was in Moscow two weeks ago, he had been given the authority to discuss the matter of improving relationships between the Soviet Union and Finland. He further indicated that although the USSR wished to honor Finnish independence, the leaders in Moscow were convinced that Germany was entertaining the idea of an attack against Russia. If Germany launched her attack from Finnish territory, the Soviet Union would be extremely displeased. As later reported by Väinö Tanner in his memoirs, Yartsev made it clear that in such an event, Russia would move as far as possible into Finland and the main battle would most likely be fought on Finnish soil. "Now," said Yartsev, "if Finland were to oppose the German army, Russia would help Finland with all possible economic and military assistance."

Holsti explained politely that he was in no position to make any decisions about the matter until he received instructions from his government. He then asked, "Would the Soviet Union send military forces against Finland, should Germany attack this country?"

"Yes, if Finland were not fighting alongside Russia."

Two months went by; nothing came of the talk between Yartsev and Holsti. Later it was learned that the Russian, in spite of the implied secrecy, had discussed the same matter with other key people in Helsinki, including General Aarne Sihvo and Mrs. Hella Wuolijoki, a prominent leftist Finn. He had also approached Prime Minister Cajander several times to discuss Germany's actions toward Finland and Russia. Finally the Finnish government sent a written notice to the Soviet Union. The Finnish position was that she would not allow any foreign troops on her territory, and that Finland trusted that the Soviet Union would also respect the sovereignty of her independence.

Russia's reply to the Finns' note was a proposal. Moscow suggested that if Finland would consent to a military agreement with Russia, the Soviets would be satisfied with a written promise that Finland would oppose any attack from a foreign country. The joker here, of course, was that Finland was to accept help from Russia, should an attack occur.

Moscow also wanted to increase the military strength of the Aland Islands, offshore from Turku, for the protection of Finland and Leningrad. Russia would participate by providing arms and observers to follow the work itself. Moscow further asked Finland's permission to build air and navy bases at Suursaari, a bare 70 miles east of Helsinki.

The Finnish government's reaction to these proposals was a firm "no." It was in direct opposition to the Finnish policy of neutrality to which she, together with the other Scandinavian countries, was committed.

With this kind of rejection, the Soviet press began further heated attacks on the Finns. Moscow Tiltu found more abusive phrases to sandwich in between the Red Army band and the London Philharmonic. It was during this period that Maxim Litvinov was replaced by Vyacheslav M. Molotov as the man with whom Finnish diplomats would deal. It was Molotov who summoned the Finnish negotiators to the Kremlin for a resumption of talks on "concrete political questions."

Juho Kusti Paasikivi, at that time Finnish minister at Stockholm, was chosen to lead the delegation to Moscow. This was wise, for Paasikivi, then approaching seventy, was a man of the ripest experience. Few Finns knew Russia and the Russians as he did, having studied at St. Petersburg and negotiated the 1920 Treaty of Tartu. His objective attitude towards the Soviet Union was unclouded either by sympathy for or hatred of communism. He firmly believed that Russia's interests in Finland were strictly strategic, rather than economic or ideological. A cheerful man of immense toughness, Paasikivi could be relied upon to hold the respect of both Finns and Russians. With him on those exhausting train trips in sub-zero weather back and forth between Helsinki and Moscow were Johan Nykopp and Colonel Alaárasonen.

Paasikivi's instructions left him little leeway for maneuvering. He could not lease Suursaari. on which the Russians had set their heart, but he could suggest the exchange of three small islands for a slice of Karelia. He was to sign no pact of mutual assistance and to insist on the right to fortify Aland. He was to add that every concession would have to be ratified by a five-sixth majority in the Finnish government.

At the Kremlin to meet the Finns on October 12, 1939, were Stalin in person, the bullet-headed, bespectacled Molotov, his assistant Potemkin, who bore a name famous in Russian history, and by Derevyanski, the minister to Helsinki of whom Yartsev had been so scornful. The meeting with this formidable array of personalities was scheduled for 5:00 P.M. Journalist-diplomat Max Jakobson later remarked in his account of these meetings: "There is a permanent Finnish-Russian agenda, and it has only one item; how to reconcile the stubborn Finnish will to independence with the Great Power ambitions of Russia."

Stalin opened the discussion with various, territorial demands. He was particularly keen on Hanko, a small town on the coast west of Helsinki that he wanted to lease for thirty years as a military and naval base. He also demanded cession of certain islands in the Gulf of Finland and a frontier withdrawal of five or...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title
• Dedication
• Copyright
• Contents
• PREFACE
• ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
• INTRODUCTION
• PROLOGUE
• CHAPTER 1 "IT IS NOT POSSIBLE FOR YOU [IN FINLAND] TO REMAIN NEUTRAL"
• CHAPTER 2 NOVEMBER 30, 1939. "OUR BORDERS ARE BURNING!"
• CHAPTER 3 HELSINKI AFLAME
• CHAPTER 4 MARSHAL MANNERHEIM AND THE "BLITZ" AT THE KARELIAN ISTHMUS
• CHAPTER 5 RUSSIAN PANZERS-AND THE STATE LIQUOR BOARD—GO TO WAR
• CHAPTER 6 THE FROZEN HELL OF TALVISOTA
• CHAPTER 7 RUSSIAN BOMBS-AND THE BIG SYMPATHY WAR RAGES ABROAD
• CHAPTER 8 THE AIR WAR
• CHAPTER 9 THE FIRST MAJOR RUSSIAN OFFENSIVE IN KARELIA: ON-THE-JOB TRAINING FOR THE RED ARMY
• CHAPTER 10 THE KARELIA DEFENDERS COUNTERATTACK
• CHAPTER 11 IN THE NORTHERN WILDERNESS
• CHAPTER 12 INSIDE THE PINCER CLAWS
• CHAPTER 13 THE MOTTI BATTLES
• CHAPTER 14 TIMOSHENKO'S OFFENSIVE
• CHAPTER 15 THE TERRIBLE DECISION
• CHAPTER 16 THE MIRACLE OF KOLLAA
• CHAPTER 17 FINLAND IN MOURNING
• EPILOGUE: SNOW COVERS THE TRACKS
• BIBLIOGRAPHY
• INDEX