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[00:00] Welcome to Noble Blood, a production of iHeartRadio and Grim & Mild from Erin Manke. Listener discretion advised. This is the second part of our two-part episode on Roman von Ungern-Sternberg. So if you haven't listened to part one yet, please start there. Why Roman von Ungern-Sternberg went to Mongolia in October of 1920, remains a mystery. Historians now call his eight-month stint in the area his Mongolian campaign, but even that label is controversial. Willard Sunderland suggests that using the word campaign implies that Roman had, quote, a reason for being there. Instead, the decision was haphazard. Roman had originally intended to move west, rather than east, to cut off the Red Army advancing on Cheetah, according to his military orders. But when he found out that the Reds had already taken the city, he had to change his plans. So he went rogue, leading what remained of the Asiatic division of the White Army south, across the Mongolian border. His forces included about 800 men trailed by horses and a train of carts, covered wagons and pack animals. He would later tell the Reds that his plan was, quote, a product of happenstance and fate. It wasn't totally out of the question for him to go to Mongolia, since the Whites had an established military presence there. But what Roman did next had more to do with his own personal politics. He decided to conquer Urga, the capital of Mongolia. He concocted this plan in the heat of the moment, after learning that the Chinese commander in Urga had arrested a group of White officers. Roman saw Urga as a, quote, red town according to an account from Roman's aide-de-camp. Because most of the Russians that lived there were Bolshevik sympathizers. Moreover, in 1919, Chinese Republicans had invaded, holding the city under military occupation and putting the Bogdakan under house arrest. To Roman, the Bolsheviks and Chinese Republicans were one and the same. He described the Chinese Republican leader Sun Yat-sen as, quote, that famous revolutionary Bolshevik. Even though Russia and China were often at odds, Roman saw his fight against socialist revolution as a personal crusade that disregarded borders and nations. He was going to take matters into his own hands and he didn't care how much force he would need to use. I'm Dana Schwartz and this is Noble Blood. Roman tried to take over the Mongolian capital Urga three times. The first two times in October and November of 1920, his army was defeated by the Chinese. Then he took a few months over the winter to regroup, stocking up guns and other supplies from Manchuria and recruiting additional soldiers. There were many disaffected Mongolians who were sympathetic to Roman's cause, lamas and nobles who wanted to free the Bogda, nationalists that wanted to kick the Chinese out of the country. There were even some stray White officers and Tsarist officials around the area who were willing to join Roman's forces. And I should be clear, when I say White in this case, I mean the White Army as opposed to the Red Bolshevik Army, the White anti-Bolshevik forces, not with any respect to race or nationality. In February 1921, with 5,000 men, Roman descended on Urga. In broad daylight, he rescued the Bogda from house arrest and occupied the city. By the end of the month, the Chinese had withdrawn entirely. Urga was his. Roman reinstalled the Bogda as the national ruler, and in return, the Bogda gave him the title of Great Hero General, Builder of the State, and the privilege of wearing a three-eyed peacock plume in his Manchu-style velvet cap, a symbol of the highest nobility. You have taken Urga, one Mongol leader wrote to Roman not long after his titling ceremony. Your good deed shall shine across the world like the rays of the sun. Tacitly working under the Bogda, Roman's men repaired roads and bridges, reopening the printing press and electric plant. Roman seized gold and valuables from Russian and Chinese banks, and confiscated cars, cannons, rifles, and machine guns to shore up his army. But he didn't stop there. Upon taking over Urga, Roman launched a pogrom, giving his men three days to eliminate any Jews and Reds they found in Urga. The Whites already had lists of Jewish families, and others they determined to be Bolshevik, quote, sympathizers. While some Jewish people managed to hide or escape the city, over 300 people were killed during Roman's three-day rampage. One person who managed to escape Urga gave an interview to a Bolshevik newspaper, describing how Roman's men hunted down entire Jewish households, slaughtering even their farm animals. By the end of Roman's campaign, Urga's tiny Jewish community essentially ceased to exist. Roman's anti-Semitism was deeply rooted in his time in the Russian army, going back to his teenage years when he witnessed the Estonian riots of 1905. Aristocrats dismissed the legitimate grievances that fueled various early 20th century rebellions by blaming them on Jewish manipulation. In 1903, a tract called The Protocols of the Elders of Zion was published in Imperial Russia before spreading throughout Europe in the 1920s and 30s. The pamphlet is a fabricated document that purported to lay out a Jewish plot for world domination by steering hapless peasants toward revolution. Roman believed this conspiracy wholeheartedly. Like other anti-Semites in white military leadership, he saw socialists and Jews as one and the same. When asked later why he hated Jewish people so much, he replied simply, they caused the revolution. He wrote that, quote, In their hearts, the people remained loyal to the czar, faith, and fatherland, but the Jewish menace had led them astray. Roman's reign of terror continued beyond that three-day rampage. He set up a security office to find, quote, unreliables, and eventually executed them at what was considered one of the worst white torture chambers in the Russian Empire, which James Palmer wrote, quote, was a considerable achievement in the brutal environment of the Civil War. This reputation attracted more sadistic officers, as Roman tacitly allowed his men to murder whoever they wanted without reproach. One official bludgeoned and drowned 31 hostages in Lake Baikal, and later earned the nickname, quote, The Strangler of Trans Baikalia. Roman enforced military discipline with the utmost brutality. For minor infractions, the most common punishment was a beating with a bamboo lash, and for serious infractions, he sentenced his men to the death penalty. Roman imagined himself as a new Genghis Khan. He wanted to unite the ethnic and religious groups of the region into a quote, central Mongolian state, one that would stretch over most of the steppe region of central Eurasia, from roughly the western edges of Manchuria to the Caspian Sea. This had almost nothing to do with Russia. In 1915, the Russians had agreed to leave Mongolia alone, and the newly ascendant Bolsheviks had other priorities. Instead, this idea seemed like a relic from Roman's childhood, where he believed that native Estonians and Germans, like his own family, should submit to the ideals of whoever showed the strongest force, which just so happened to be Russia. But curiously, diverging from the rest of the White Army, he also felt that those on the outskirts of the empire were superior to the Russians themselves. Roman believed that people like him, who had grown up on the imperial frontier, whether they were Mongols, Cossacks, or members of the nomadic Step Societies, preserved a strength and purity that the center of Russia had lost. He figured that while Mongolia would be a mostly politically independent state, Russia would serve as a kind of feudal overlord, like a king ruling over his vassals. It's hard to imagine how this plan would have actually worked in practice, but that was no problem for Roman. Most of his plans were pretty fuzzy and abstract anyway. Nevertheless, Roman wanted to extend his territory by invading Khiakta, a strategically placed town, en route back to Siberia, creating a white stronghold in the region. He told a Chinese ally, quote, All my efforts are directed to the north, where I shall move to break through to Russia as soon as possible. He distributed a formal manifesto known as Order Number 15, in which he expressed his desire to destroy communism and restore the Russian monarchy by appointing Tsar Nicholas II's brother, the Grand Duke Michael, as the new ruler of the empire. A campaign against Siberia also made sense because Roman was vulnerable to attack in Urga, either by the Reds or the Chinese. Cocky from his victory in Urga, Roman thought that his next steps would be easy. He believed that anti-Bolshevik sentiment in Siberia remained strong, and that his invasion could inspire other uprisings across the area. Later, he said that his impending attack on the Reds would ignite a quote, powder keg of popular resentment in Siberia that would gather the scattered White units still operating there into a single, unstoppable force. But by 1921, the Red Army was much stronger than he had anticipated. The Whites had lost control of the Trans-Siberian Railway and dispersed east. Only a few stragglers remained. Roman's monarchist ambitions and sadistic reputation did not land well with the Russians still living in Siberia. Meanwhile, after Roman took over Urga, at least 8,000 Chinese soldiers and refugees had fled to Kyakta, meaning he had even more opponents there than just the Russians. The Kalkas, the largest Mongolian subgroup, refused to work with Roman. Even the nobles of Urga feared Roman's threats to their privileges, and were not entirely committed to his cause. Roman was aware of these obstacles. The daughter of a former Tsarist official recalled how her father tried to dissuade him from going to Kyakta by saying, quote, here you have fodder for the horses, everything, whereas out there they will destroy you. But despite the warning, Roman went anyway. He had internalized his role in World War I, where the best soldiers went into battle, even when the odds were stacked against them. His attack on Kyakta in May 1921 failed. His force was too small and poorly organized, and he couldn't get very far without local support. Roman spent the next three months on the road with his regiment wandering aimlessly through Siberia and Mongolia. Even worse, the Red Army was closing in on him. They partnered with an army of Mongols and took over Urga while Roman was away. The rest of Roman's men had already fled the capital by the time the Reds had arrived. With no pushback, the invaders established a pro-communist government while keeping the Bogdakan on as a figurehead. As one Red Army writer put it, Roman wanted to move against us, but the opposite occurred. We moved against him. By August, Roman's army was still wearily marching through Siberia. Resentments had been building as Roman's plan seemed harder and harder to grasp, let alone execute. Roman's brutality towards his own army, including regular beatings and executions, no longer inspired the same fear and discipline that it had back in Urga. Finally, one night, a few of Roman's officers snuck into his camp. They fired shots and tossed grenades at what they believed was his tent, but they had picked the wrong one and killed one of his orderlies instead. Hearing the commotion, Roman managed to escape. He hopped on his horse and rode into the woods. By morning, he had run into his Mongol unit, and together they began marching west. But it turns out the Mongols were in on the assassination plan. After they lulled him into a false sense of security, they jumped him and tied him up. One Mongol soldier, perhaps exaggerating his role in deposing Roman, said that he distracted Roman by asking him for a light as they were riding. While Roman looked for a match, the soldier says he tackled Roman off his horse. In any case, Roman's once loyal army turned on him, capturing him and turning him in to the Reds. Roman expected that he would be executed. Rather than submit to the same kind of torture he perpetrated on his political enemies, he tried to take his own life multiple times while in captivity. He tried to drink the poison he always kept in his uniform pocket, but it fell to the ground out of his reach before he could grab it. He later tried to hang himself with a pair of horses reins, but they were too thick to budge. The Bolsheviks did not immediately call for Roman's execution. Instead, they brought him back to the western Siberian city of Novosibirsk for a trial. There was no doubt that he would be found guilty, and he had already admitted his guilt in their initial interrogation. His death seemed so inevitable that, citing a Soviet news bulletin, the New York Times reported his execution four days before his trial. Still, the Soviet government wanted to use Roman, who represented the most extreme version of the white cause, as an example. Thousands of onlookers filled the Summer Pine Theater on September 15th, 1921 to watch his trial. He arrived on stage in an embellished yellow caftan, the same one he had worn when he had first invaded Mongolia. Because he had already admitted guilt, the prosecution did not spend much time grilling him about his military career. Instead, they attacked him personally. The prosecution asked if his family owned large estates in the Baltic, to which Roman responded, Probably not anymore. He then asked how long Roman's family had held its noble status, and Roman replied, A thousand years. The prosecutor's closing argument extended this line of questioning. He said to the crowd, This trial of former Baron Ungern is not only a trial of the person of Baron Ungern, but a trial of an entire class of society that is accustomed to ruling and would not give up its power even if it were to mean the destruction of half of humanity. Baron Ungern, who sits here on the defendant's bench, is the main inspiration of countless others who are tearing to pieces not only the body of the Russian people, but of the peoples of the whole world. He ended his speech with his preferred verdict, the death penalty. Quote, this verdict must resound as a verdict of death on all noblemen who try to raise their hands against the power of the workers and peasants, said the prosecutor. In the face of such an impassioned political speech, and given that Roman already pled guilty to the charges, the defense didn't have much to work with. They mounted a flimsy attempt to plead Roman's insanity, which Roman himself denied. Changing tactics, the defense suggested that Roman had never been a great danger to Soviet power in the first place. His attorney dismissed Roman's ambitions as, chaos, the products of a sick imagination. But even the defense was resigned to Roman's execution, saying it would be the easiest way to end his sufferings, resembling the sympathy that we would show for a sick animal. End quote. The judge gave Roman the last word before the verdict would be announced. He stated simply, I cannot say anything more. Roman was sentenced to death by firing squad, and he was shot the next morning. Although both the prosecution and defense were ostensibly positioned against each other, their accounts of Roman's life work well together. Historians broadly agree with the defense's portrait of Roman as, to put it mildly, a chaotic person. His poorly thought out plan in Mongolia was doomed from the start. He was neither a particularly dangerous threat to Bolshevik Soviets, nor an asset to the Tsar. He was never a great tactician, a great leader or even a great soldier. The only quality that his officers commended him for was his willingness to dive headfirst into seemingly fruitless missions, which overall didn't bode well for a long-term military career. In the face of his apparent mediocrity, Roman clutched onto his aristocratic lineage for meaning. In every battle he fought in, from World War I to his disastrous campaign in Mongolia, he believed that he was defending the monarchy. In his mind, hierarchy was the only thing preventing the world from devolving into utter disorder. This was certainly true for Roman himself. He had spent his entire life coasting on his elite status, refusing to do anything that seemed beneath him, even elementary school homework. Any political ideology or religion he entertained worked downstream from his fundamental belief in his own superiority. Fitting, then, that the prosecution convicted him not for his actions as an individual, but as a symbol of his class. Ironically, the very thing that animated his life, his devotion to representing and defending his noble status, ultimately ended it. That's the story of the brutal Roman Ungern von Sternberg, but stick around to hear how Roman may have used fortune tellers to guide his military decisions. Roman Ungern-Sternberg was by all accounts a superstitious person. A number of memoirs from his orderlies and contemporaries tell anecdotes about drawing, playing cards, and meeting with psychics in order to determine his next moves. He was even said to have included a number of fortune tellers and profits in his retinue during his Mongolian campaign. Polish writer Ferdinand Oszandowski, who traveled with Roman throughout Mongolia, wrote that Roman left Urga for Siberia in 1921, in part because of the interference of fortune tellers. Oszandowski apparently accompanied Roman to see one fortune teller in Urga. According to him, quote, the fortune teller was a little woman of middle years who squatted down eastern style before the brazier, bowed low and began to stare at Baron Ungern. She drew a small bag very slowly from her girdle and took from it some small bird bones and a handful of dry grass. She began whispering at intervals, unintelligible words as she threw occasional handfuls of grass into the fire, which gradually filled the tent with a soft fragrance. After the fortune teller had burned all of her grass, she placed the bird bones on the charcoal and turned them over again and again with a small pair of bronze pincers. As the bones blackened, she began to examine them and then suddenly, her face took on an expression of fear and pain. She said in fragments, Quote, I see, I see the god of war. His life runs out. And it was at that point that she fainted and was carried out by two of her assistants. A long silence followed. Apparently, Roman got up and paced around the tent, saying to himself, quote, I shall die, I shall die. But no matter, no matter, the cause has been launched and will not die. Nobody will extinguish the fire in the heart of the Mongols. Finally, apparently, Roman raised his hand above his head, shouting, My time has come. In a little while, I shall leave Urga. With that, he exited the tent, slamming the yurt door, and Osindowska wrote that he never saw Roman again. It's hard to know what to make of this story. The memoir that we're citing is a dubious source full of sensational details and exaggerations. Historian James Palmer adds further ambiguity, floating the idea that the fortune-teller in Osindowska's story may have been purposefully trying to manipulate Roman. He wrote, quote, It's possible that the Mongolians played Ungern's own suspicions against him. Eager to see the city rid of his men, it would have been relatively simple, and with some precedent, to influence the oracles, to push him in a certain direction, end quote. Regardless of whether the story is true, or whether the fortune-teller was purposefully manipulating him, the story aligns with how Roman viewed his military ambitions in extreme, almost religious terms. He believed he was fighting a holy war on behalf of the Tsar, describing himself as someone who, quote, strongly trusts in destiny. Noble Blood is a production of iHeart Radio and Grim & Mild from Erin Manke. Noble Blood is hosted by me, Dana Schwartz. Writers for Noble Blood are Hannah Johnston, Hannah Zwick, Paul Jaffe, Natasha Lasky, and me, Dana Schwartz. The show is edited and produced by Jesse Funk and Gnomes Grippen, with supervising producer Rima Ilkayali, and executive producers Erin Manke, Trevor Young, and Matt Frederick. 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