My days and evenings were spent advising people on the installation, siting or repair of machinery. For these services I was paid in a variety of ways. Sometimes they were direct cash transactions. Sometimes shares or bonds. I was able to invest money in France, Switzerland, England and, of course, Germany. Without even possessing an office, living entirely out of the hotel, I was becoming a man of means. I knew this could not last forever. I had still not received decisive backing for my main projects. The political climate remained too unsettled for anyone to consider serious investment in Ukraine. There was, as well, a certain amount of ‘pogromchik’ activity in Kiev and outlying regions. This made the German financial people nervous. Many of them had Jewish connections of their own: Jewish masters to whom they were liable. I considered travelling to Berlin, but my mother’s health stopped me from coming to a proper decision.
As the evenings grew darker and colder, we began to hear rumours of heavy German defeats, of revolutionary activity similar to the kind which had sparked the Petrograd risings. It was obvious that my German acquaintances were wondering if they themselves would have a country to which they could safely return. In the meantime Ataman Petlyura was gaining strength. His Cossack cavalry and his Sich riflemen were joined by many irregulars and it seemed he represented a more popular and stronger force than Skoropadskya’s. The Germans were thinking they had backed the wrong man.
The Hetman should at least have made some pretence of deferring to peasant demands, but he was too honourable to do anything save obey his own conscience and God’s will. And so he fell. Winter drew down upon Kiev and my hopes were dashed. Almost overnight, my German colleagues left, my Hetmanate contacts deserted me, and the politicians drove me again from The Yevropyaskaya hotel. Germany’s Hindenburg Line had been breached. The German Chancellor proposed to accept an armistice plan drawn up by the Americans. The British refused to consider the idea. They wanted blood. By November a Communist Soviet was established in Bavaria and revolution broke out in Berlin itself. The Kaiser abdicated. Prince Max of Baden, the Chancellor, relinquished his position to a socialist. Germany became a Republic and was no longer an ally against Bolshevism. Maps were taken out and lines were re-drawn. We had lost our Crimean territories to Tatars. In spite of the treaty signed with the Don and Kuban Cossacks we had not gained a real ally against the socialists. Just before Christmas, 1918, Petlyura was back in full command promising, in Ukrainian, a secure national future. Not only Russians found his posturing dangerous; a good many Ukrainians decided it would be wiser to give up the struggle. Half the industrialists vanished. During the festive season I again entertained my family at a good hotel; again I spoke of my plans for my engineering business. But it seemed I had achieved little beyond making some money, most of which I should probably never be able to claim. Even my work was likely to be curtailed by the socialists. I had no Special Diploma. I had no career worth speaking of. There was hardly any working industry in Ukraine. I was unable to read most of the newspapers because they were suddenly in an alien language. I had trouble filling in simple forms. I was insulted if I did not ask for my tram-fare in Ukrainian. I had again become some sort of second-class citizen. I thought of going to Odessa where at least now it would be possible to book passage on a ship. But I would bide my time for a little while, until the Greens settled in. I moved back to my mother’s flat. She was cheerful and well again. This was a relief. But her moods remain a mystery to me to this day.
