In the funds of the National Archives, in the former Archive of the C.C. of the P.C.R., there is kept a document entitled Memories of General Dr Iulian Popişteanu, chief physician of the 11th Division Ambulance, during the 1916-1918 campaign. It is dated „Bucharest, March 2, 1938”.
I found very little information about the author. It does not appear in the Army Yearbook of 1926-1927 and 1927-1928. I assumed he was a lifelong reserve officer. The only yearbooks in which reserve officers appear are those from before the Great War. In the Army Yearbook of 1915, on page 874, the reserved doctor Iulian Em. Popişteanu, from the Territorial Command, was born on July 8/20, 1875, having seniority in rank from May 10/23, 1913. From document no. 19/1928, of December 21, kept in the Fund of the Royal House, Official Documents, we find out that the general doctor Iulian Popişteanu was administrator of the National Office I.O.V.R. and left us a Numerical Table of war invalids, lower ranks admitted as large mutilated by the Central Review Commission for granting the pension increase decided by the Journal of the Council of Ministers No. 712/1928.
We reproduce excerpts from this document below. I enclosed in square brackets a series of clarifications.
Sorin Cristescu
On the endless stream of time, they have been unravelling year after year, at number 20 since then, since Division 11, under the command of the late General Emest Broşteanu (Historical Magazine, no. 1-3 / 2018), located on the Marasesti front, was ordered to cross the Prut and occupy the northern and middle part of Bessarabia.
I was the chief doctor of the Ambulance of that division and on January 4, 1918, I also received the order to leave with the medical team I commanded in Păuneşti, county. I was also able to march the very next morning to the city of Huşi, to which the headquarters of the division had gone.
At that time a strange rumour had spread among the soldiers - launched by no one - that the Romanian army would take the road to Mesopotamia [the idea of the Romanian army leaving through the Caucasus to Mesopotamia, to avoid the effects of a separate peace with the Central Powers, was supported in the then crown councils by Take Ionescu] and serfdom.
But when I explained to the band under my command - 800 people, grads and soldiers - that we were crossing the Prut to unite with our Moldavian brothers from Bessarabia, enslaved by muscle for over 100 years, and thus grow our country, any trace of doubt, worry, sadness and hesitation have disappeared as if by magic; a formidable "hatred" covered my last words, and an indescribable joy gripped all hearts.
From Huşi I was ordered to follow the right bank of the Prut to the north to the village of Scopoşeni, where it was decided to cross this river and enter Bessarabia to follow our path to Chisinau. From Huşi, the divisional ambulance also lined up with the headquarters of the division […]. On January 8, we arrived in the locality where we had to go to Bessarabia.
On the left bank of the Prut, the village of Nemteni was connected to Scoposeni by a bridge of vessels. Several Romanian officers from the Ambulance and the Quarter, mostly doctors and pharmacists - including the undersigned and Major Bălțeanu. The commander of the Cuarier, completely unarmed, we crossed the Prut alone and without any troops, to visit, a moment earlier, a locality of our Bessarabian brothers.
It never occurred to us that there was a Bolshevik nest there, which gave us a welcome that could not be more tragic. Threatened to be arrested by them and killed, we hurriedly retreated across the Prut before the saloon caught the news and we were surrounded by the Bolsheviks. Anyone can imagine what would have been chosen by our poor band left without leaders.
The moment we set foot on the bridge, so that we could cross over to us, the 12 gendarmes from the Quarter Guard, announced I don't know by whom of the danger we were in, came running to our aid.
Faced with this incident, the crossing of the Prut through this point became impossible and dangerous, because we carried with us the treasury of the division - in whose cashier allied more than 3,500,000 lei, an amount that at that time was a significant value - and as a troop defence I had only the 12 gendarmes and 70 weapons model 1877, to my soldiers, the rest being composed only of paramedics and stretchers, armed with stretchers and bags with bandages, together with Major Bălteanu we found it appropriate to go to the telegraph office from Răducăneni, were to announce in Iaşi what happened.
Also by telegraphic wire, the Grand Quarter ordered us to follow our path on the Romanian bank of the Prut to Ungheni, where we could cross into Bessarabia, after an infantry company with machine guns would arrive there, to serve as our defense against any possible Bolshevik attack.
Indeed, arriving at Ungheni, I found the promised company, under the command of a keen captain, whose name I regret not to remember.
On the morning of January 10, we crossed the Prut, in the enthusiastic cheers of the troops under our command, heading to the village of Pârliţa, where we were ordered to do the noon stage. On the heights that dominate from the northwest, this locality had taken place in the morning of that day a fair, a fair. From us in the valley we could see on the ridge of the hill a significant number of people, who were bustling from place to place.
As soon as this world saw our troops stationed on the side of the road and ready to take their lunch, a gust of wind rushed down the valley, heading towards us. In front of them was a strong man, quite young, with a large, blond mustache, dressed half civilian, half military, with a white turkey of sheep, of the Russian model, civilian jacket, red trousers of a Russian knight and boots with spurs. He comes even closer to ours and, with his hands in his trouser pockets and a provocative attitude, addresses us the following words:
- What are you doing here? Who called you and what do you want?
- We were called by our Bessarabian brethren, he replied.
- Bessarabians, brothers with you, some gypsies!?! - Our man dared to say. We will call Bălţi immediately - he continues - and you will like what you will suffer!
But our mighty Bolshevik did not finish his speech well - for he was, unfortunately, a Bessarabian Romanian - and the captain, the commander of our infantry company, who had approached him at this time, suddenly burned a pair of healthy palms. , from Oltenia, who lay the strong man on the ground with his head down and his legs pushed up!
At the same time, the brave captain ordered:
- Machine guns in place!
I don't even know when my Bolshevik friend got up from the ground and broke it on the hill, followed by all the people at the fair - which numbered several hundred people - and who took much less time to reach the top of the hill. and from thence to be seen more than he had gone down from the hill to the valley!
After this small and funny incident and after the stop, we headed, following the road that borders the Ungheni Chisinau railway, to the latter locality and, after three night stops - the first in Comeşli station, where, right in front of the station, I saw the fresh graves of two Russian senior officers, killed by their Bolshevik soldiers; the second in the Călăraşi market, so clean and well-paved, that I had to use my riding horse to get from my host to the mess, otherwise being threatened to drown in the mud on the road, and the last in the train station Straseni -, in the afternoon of January 13, we appeared on the heights that dominate from the southwest the beautiful capital of Bessarabia.
From Ungheni to Chisinau, the varied road through the undulations of the terrain, which delight the traveller's gaze and make him forget the lack of communication routes in good condition, suddenly stops on these heights of Chisinau, so that in front of the hiker to unfolds a panoramic view.
We slowly descend the slope of the hill and in the evening we are at the gates of Chisinau.
We are encamped in the monumental building of the Diocesan School for Girls, which had been evacuated for our reception. together with a battalion of the infantry regiment commanded by Colonel Pomponius.
The next morning's visit to the city left us all with one of the most pleasant impressions. especially the cathedral, where we attended the religious service and where we admired the greatness of the divine service and the beauty of the Bessarabian choir, led by Father Berzowski, left us a memory that will never be erased. I'm not talking about the beauty of the schools and the care put into their hygiene and comfort, which left nothing to be desired. I will not forget the white marble baths, sumptuous and bright for cleaning, from the Diocesan School for Girls. But the high schools!… But the hospital, endowed with everything it needed for the surgical service, to cope with any kind of intervention!
I liked the orthopedics and prosthesis workshop attached to this service, where any kind of prosthesis needed by the patients operated in the hospital was made with a lot of art and care.
A good and beautiful impression left on me the building then called "Serafimovski Dom", built, as I was informed, only from the contribution of the Bessarabian priests.
I will be reminded of an evening spent in this building on the occasion of the meeting of the school committee of the Diocesan School for Girls, to which I had been invited to receive the material in the building of that school, which now served as our neighborhood.
As I left, a choir of angels, as if coming from Heaven, caught my eye. It was a prayer Our Father, sung only by girls, in four voices. Unimaginably beautiful!… Great, wonderful, enchanting, as can only be heard in the choirs of Bessarabia. It was explained to me that it was the choir of the students from the school evacuated for us, now temporarily interned at the "Serafimovski Dom".
Also as a pleasant memory, the insane asylum hospital from Costiujeni, which I visited with all the doctors from the ambiance of the division. We were received and taken inside the hospital with great kindness by Dr. Alistar (Magazin ric, no. 3/1993), then a doctor at that hospital. A woman full of energy and initiative, Dr. Alistar, who had been part of the revolutionary movement against Russian domination, for which she had been imprisoned and threatened to be executed, had given all the necessary explanations about the hospital.
Arriving with the visit to the section of "agitated women" - where, in a rather spacious room, were hospitalized a significant number of sick bastards - who made an infernal noise - and as I knew that Dr. Alistar was a deputy in the Country Council, I I allowed myself to make a joke:
There it is. "Doctor," you said, pointing to those sick women who were screaming and fidgeting in the Chamber of Women Deputies.
To which, Dr. Alistar, without being upset, replied:
Let it be so that you men are not at peace! ”
And indeed, as the Assembly of our Post-War Deputies presented itself, if I had met with Dr. Alistar, he would have had every right to tell me:
"Well, did you see, sir, that I was right when I told you that you men are much noisier and more impulsive than women?"
Luckily, I haven't had a chance to meet her since then and so I got rid of the deserved rebuke.
However, I would like to say that then I left that hospital with the most beautiful impression, both in terms of its administration and organization, and in terms of the care of the patients hospitalized there.
January 24 - the day we celebrated the Union of the Romanian Principalities - found us under a little state of concern, because on the eve, for reasons that are not within my competence to be tried, we had lost the city of Tighina, in which, on the bridge over the Dniester, which had been left intact, the Bolsheviks of Tiraspol had entered. Two days later, however, our troops resumed Tighina and destroyed the bridge.
Despite all this concern, the day of January 24 was celebrated with much pomp and enough animation in the premises of the Casino of the nobility in Chisinau. After the necessary speeches, given by General Broşteanu and other officers of the division, a young and beautiful student, Romanian Bessarabian, from the upper course of the Diocesan School, I think, spoke and in a warm and tender speech he thanked the Romanian troops for Bessarabia escaped the Bolshevik plague. It was a moment of sublime exaltation!… Only we, who had the happiness and luck to live that moment, can realize its greatness. General Broşteanu, with tears in his eyes, hugged the beautiful student. The same gesture was made by General Vuillemin, of the French Mission, who was present. Although with our eyes bathed in tears, we, the rest of us, would have liked to kiss the kind schoolgirl! But can lust to whom!…
After the speeches, we all had a big dance in the square in front of the choir casino, attended by Generals Brosteanu and Vuillemin, all the officers present, the officials and the Bessarabian nobility, as well as the high school students who came to celebrate with us. Romanian countries ”! The enthusiasm was indescribable!
Another pleasant memory from Chisinau - but this one of a culinary and gastronomic nature - I keep from the so-called "blini". Deliciously prepared, served to us at breakfast by his pious Father Berzowski, whose reception in the family of his pious was of remarkable tenderness and delicacy. In fact, I keep the same tender memory of our receptions from the families of Herţa, Botezatu, Cerchez, Şeptilici, etc., as well as of the celebrations in our honour in the hall of the National Theater.
Finally, on March 27, 1918!
Early in the morning, the beautiful city is paved with the Romanian tricolour and a huge crowd, in festive clothes, crowded all the way from the train station to the city, are looking forward to the arrival of Alexandru Marghiloman, the Prime Minister of Romania.
At around 9.30, Marghiloman arrives at the Chisinau train station and, in a beautiful crew, preceded and followed by a squadron of redheads in full ceremonial attire, enters the city, to the endless cheers of the crowd.
In the afternoon, the solemn meeting of the Country Council, in which the union with the motherland was to be decided. From three o'clock all the officers of the Division, who were in Chisinau and a company of honour, were gathered in the courtyard of the Theological Seminary, in the building of which the garrison command was installed.
After quite heated discussions and full of ardent patriotism, in which the most distinguished Bessarabian personalities took part, among which Ion Inculeţ, Pelivan, Dr. Petre Cazacu, Pan Halippa etc. etc., towards the end of the afternoon we received the news that the union of Bessarabia with the Motherland had been voted unanimously by the deputies from the Country Council [in reality, there were 86 votes for the union, three against and 36 deputies abstained]. By the end of the day, muscle bondage was over!
Immediately we all go to the Soborului Church, where after a while the deputies of Bessarabia arrive and, later, Alexandru Marghiloman with General Broşteanu.
A Te Deum is celebrated by Archimandrite Gurie, surrounded by a council of priests.
The greatness of the moment cannot be described in words, because they could not reproduce anything from what was and what each of us felt, who took part in that unforgettable act! All I know is that everyone's eyes were filled with joy and happiness!…
After 100 years of slavery, Bessarabia had returned to her mother's womb!
On the evening of March 31, 1918, after the 11th Division had guarded the land of Bessarabia, which it had forever linked to that of the Romanian Kingdom, the 1st Hunters Division, commanded by General Ion Rascanu, left, I confess with great regret, Chisinau, with the train carrying the Division Headquarters and its Ambulance.
Spent at the train station by the entire elite of the city, General Broşteanu, in words full of feeling and enthusiasm, said goodbye, on behalf of all of us, to all those we had known and who had competed, through kindness and delicacy, to show their gratitude to us, who had saved them from the Bolsheviks.
And so three months passed as if it were three days!…
The article was written by Sorin Cristescu and published in the magazine Magazin istoric, March issue, 2020.
„”
Niciun comentariu:
Trimiteți un comentariu