Although Jew historical works record it, Jonas Budrys was the chief engineer of one of Lithuania\u2019s proudest moments: 1923 suprising in the Klaip\u0117da Territory.<\/strong><\/p>\n History is like as sieve , a great filter of facts. The smaller, less significant data falls through and is forgotten. The more significant information remains, in writing and in people\u2019s memories. Thus, we learn the gist of the incident from a number of history books. On 9 January 1923, a thousand armed Lithuanians marched into an area of Lithuania Minor designated the Klaip\u0117da Territory. Within a week, the officially independent group seized control of the district for Lithuania from a French supervisory force representing the League of Nations. The takeover was an event of global import. Newborn Lithuania, for its part, cheerfully accepted the 1100 square mile parcel along the Baltic Sea. The powerful nations of the League\u2014 -predecessor of the United Nations\u2014 would grudgingly give their official blessing a month later.<\/p>\n The how and why were more complicated, of course, but comprehensible with written help. There\u2019s a problem here, however, with the scholarly historical accounts; it\u2019s as if our sieve had developed a tear in the screen. A few books outline the political complexities involved, and a few admire the timing and organization of the Lithuanian action. But who were the men most responsible? They\u2019re seldom identified by name.<\/p>\n Many could easily dismiss the oversight, but Algis Budrys is more inclined to want to credit where due. Contacting him on other business last year (\u201cScience Fiction\u2019s Shining Star\u201d, May\/June \u201999), Lithuanian Heritage inquired about the family. A journalistic formality usually. But not this time. The noted author related the story with which the reader is now passingly familiar\u2014 placing his father Jonas at the head of the insurgent force. \u201cThe Klaip\u0117da Liberator\u201d Algis said the Lithuanian people called him. We muttered something noncommittal then\u2014 like \u201cWow!\u201d\u2014 and headed straight to the public library.<\/p>\n There we found the reference situation as described. There\u2019s enough out there to back up Algis\u2019 claims, and move Jonas from the masses of historical unknowns. But no further than into the ranks of the definitely obscure.<\/p>\n Encyclopedia Lituanica does its best to help, in the dry manner of all reference books. Born 1889 in Kaunas, it says of the elder Budrys. Received only a high school education there. Served during World War I with the Russian T sar\u2019s army as a military counter intelligence officer. Returned home four years after the T sar\u2019s empire toppled to assume a series of important Lithuanian governmental positions. Died 1964 in New York City, after functioning as Consul General for his last twentyeight years. His shining hour in Klaip\u0117da, as usual with encyclopedias, is noted but given no particular emphasis.<\/p>\n Lituanica implies that Jonas was a Kaunas city boy; Algis notes instead that his father was raised on a nearby farm. Due to prevailing cultural attitudes and perhaps the delicate nature of Jonas\u2019 work, Algis wasn\u2019t told much else about his father\u2019s family. In addition to Jonas, there were at least two girls and a boy. The father\u2019s father\u2014 whose name Algis never learned\u2014 was another Russian military intelligence man. Consequently, history would be repeating itself much later with Jonas frequently absenting himself from his own family, making a m onstrous 110 mile commute between New York City and a chicken farm he\u2019d bought in New Jersey. But that trip must have seemed trivial compared to his post-Russian army travels, which started in Vladivostok almost five thousand miles from home, after the Russian Revolution cost him his job.<\/p>\n Unintentionally or not, Lituanica is mum about those 1917-1921 days, which is rather a touchy subject. Algis, who is nothing if not candid, easily refers to them as his father\u2019s freebooter period. There were, in the father\u2019s defense, no trains, planes, or autos to speed the trip, and the safest of travel arrangements over ungoverned land would have been with a gun and a similarly equipped group. Surviving a bout with typhoid fever along the way, Jonas walked mountains, forests, and prairies. How he acquired a fistful of wound scars during this era, the sensitive might not wish to hear.<\/p>\n Jonas and countrymen had some cause for optimism as the 1920s dawned. World War I and the independence wars were over. Previously, Lithuanians had declared for themselves an independent state in February 1918, with Vilnius as capital. The declaration was primarily symbolic at the time, considering the German occupation. But with Germany\u2019s defeat and the November 1918 armistice, Lithuania had set about building political, social, and economic infrastructures unopposed. Concerned for a lasting peace, the Western Allies mean while aimed to construct a buffer zone between Germany and Russia, alleviating the chronically unstable situation in central and eastern Europe caused by Russo-German friction. The Allies could help their buffer, it seemed obvious, by bolstering former Tsarist possessions Poland and Lithuania. On the face of it, therefore, official western recognition and aid for Lithuania appeared definite possibilities.<\/p>\n Unfortunately for Lithuania\u2019s development and everyone\u2019s mentalease, Lithuania and Poland were not getting on well. Especially over Vilnius. In late 1920 the Polish army occupied Vilnius and environs (see map) on a subterfuge, following engagements with Lithuanian troops. Each country had a case for possession dating back to at least the Lithuanian\/Polish Com m onwealth; the dispute would defy resolution throughout the between-wars period. Only in 1994 would there be a bilateral agreement between the two, granting Lithuania sovereignty. Back in the early twenties, sadly, the tense situation threatened another war. Lithuanian government moved to Kaunas.<\/p>\n Without the Vilnius question, there might have been a less heated debate involving Klaip\u0117da, and no uprising at all. Under the Versailles peace treaty terms, the territory had been detached from defeated Germany and placed under the League\u2019s wing, pending clarification of the Baltic situation. The French supervisory force entered the port city in February 1920. They should have been short-term guardians for the Lithuanians if not the Germans, by rights. The district\u2019s populace was split between the two groups, the latter dominating the city itself, Lithuanians the countryside. As it was, Germany held little hope of getting a favorable ruling, Poland staked a claim, and the West held Klaip\u0117da as a bargaining chip with Lithuania in the obstinate Vilnius affair. Over the eighteen months following the Polish invasion of Vilnius, the Allies packaged a number of proposals. One called for a Lithuanian-Polish federation. Another essentially ran \u201cRenounce Vilnius, receive Klaip\u0117da\u201d<\/p>\n Kaunas declined all offers. The Allies had disappointed them; after the Poles attacked Vilnius, Western nations had stood aside, and then totally failed to appreciate the cultural significance of the loss to Lithuanians. Furthermore, to Lithuania\u2019s west the Klaip\u0117da port occupation was dragging into its third year, blocking Lithuania\u2019s only window to lucrative Baltic Sea trade.<\/p>\n Not surprisingly, then, by early 1922 Lithuanians had begun to consider the use of force to address their problems. Under public pressure to act, leaders deliberated. Headto-head confrontation with the Poles over Vilnius was ruled out; the Polish population o utnum bered Lithuania\u2019s ten to one and, moreover, was receiving preferential Western treatment in one o f Europe\u2019s hottest disputes. Lithuanians had had enough painful recent experience with Germany and Soviet Russia to discount an anti-Polish alliance with either of them, even if it meant bypassing an attempt to regain Vilnius. Trying for all of Lithuania Minor at Germany\u2019s expense was desirable, but would totally alienate Berlin and run a decided risk of Western intervention. A solo takeover of Klaip\u0117da, on the other hand, appeared reasonable.<\/p>\n Ernestas Galvanauskas, prime minister and de facto<\/em> government head, came up with a top secret plan. For lieutenants he enlisted Jonas Budrys\u2014 who\u2019d been named chief of Lithuanian counterintelligence after returning home \u2014 and newly appointed Klaip\u0117da Territory Consul Jonas \u017dilius. Although essentially an aggressive act, the plan would involve more finesse than muscle. It would take both time and The Klaip\u0117da Territory (crosshatched area on the map\u2019s left) constituted only a sm all part of Lithuania Minor, a region inhabited since antiquity by the Lithuanians and their kinsfolk the Prussians. The region was conquered and colonized by the Teutonic Knights in the 13th century who named it Prussia after its original inhabitants. It later became part of the German empire with the name of East Prussia. Lithuania Minor was the center of Lithuanian language and culture. It was here that the first books in the Lithuanian language were printed, and it was from here that the 19th century Lithuanian national renaissance em anated and extended into Lithuania Major. During World War II the region was devastated and occupied by the Soviet Union who colonized it and turned it into a naval and military stronghold with the name of Kaliningrad O blast. The attachment of Lithuanians to Lithuania Minor was just as deep as it was to Vilnius. The Vilnius region, shaded area on the map\u2019s right, was under Polish occupation between 1920 -1939. money to set up.<\/p>\n Each of the trio was a staunch Lithuanian who\u2019d lived abroad, but on the whole they seemed an odd set. \u017dilius at 51 was the oldest, a portly ex-priest and a capable writer. He would handle a local propaganda campaign to soften the public to the idea of non-German rule, and set up a handful of Lithuanian government fronts. One of which would in due time appeal to Lithuanian patriots to free them from the French. Galvanauskas was an electrical engineer by training who had fallen into politics during the days of the 1905 revolt. The slender forty-year-old would tend to the international diplomacy, gauging and manipulating foreign opinion. Budrys, who at 33 still looked very like the solid 225 pound farm boy he had once been, would lead the march itself and be responsible for all military aspects.<\/p>\n While Lithuania verbally clashed with the Poles, Germany and Russia scarcely got along with them better. Capitalizing on all three animosities, the preliminary work went well. Lithuanian government and LithuanianAmerican funds were used to gain control of the local press. \u017dilius consequently published much anti-Polish material, which claimed that the Poles had imminent designs on the territory. Local Lithuanians didn\u2019t have to be reminded of Vilnius to worry about the prospect. Both Germany and Russia pledged to Galvanauskas in meetings through 1922 not to interfere with any disturbances; given the choice of Lithuanian or Polish control o f Klaip\u0117da, both preferred Lithuanian. As for the territory\u2019s populace overall, data gathered by Budrys late in the year indicated that 60% favored Lithuanian rule, 30% had no opinion, and 10% favored a free state.<\/p>\n With winter \u201922\u2014\u201923 approaching, and a mid-January report due from the French expected to be critical of Lithuania\u2019s readiness-to-rule, the project looked like ago. On 20 November after a night-long meeting, the Galvanauskas cabinet decided to proceed in early January.<\/p>\n Just that suddenly, after months of preparation, insider attention shifted from the other two principals to Budrys. From a military standpoint, the intelligence work and the march itself were not formidable: a small, stationary adversary of limited armament in front of him, a force behind him no more sophisticated and not much bigger. In the spring, Lithuanian army commander Silvestras \u017dukauskas had estimated that his troops could do the takeover within 24 hours. Budrys, though, was emphatically \u00a0NOT the Lithuanian army, but for diplomacy\u2019s sake the head of a freelance group of rabble-rousers. Should things go very badly despite all the groundwork, they would be on their own in a dangerous spot.<\/p>\n To help prevent this, Budrys\u2019 main task in the weeks beforehand would be to impress on his volunteers\u2014 many in fact Lithuanian soldiers, destined transatlantic flyer Stephen Darius among them\u2014 that their job was to encourage the French to exit alive, not dead. Echoing the peaceable sentiments in a report to his superiors, he wrote, \u201cThere is no enemy, but we can create one by our own misguided conduct\u201d. Whether he or anyone else actually appraised matters exactly that way is doubtful. It was common knowledge that France, to-the-wall Polish supporters since Napoleon and a principal power in the West, had effectively given the Poles a free hand in their squabbles with Lithuania. National feelings ran high, and whether Budrys\u2019 band would put their orders above their emotions was a cause for concern.<\/p>\n He needn\u2019t have worried, as it turned out. A group called the Supreme Com m ittee for the Salvation of Lithuania M inor was formed on 6 January, and as arranged placed its distress call. Budrys and a thousand men accordingly marched from Kaunas, heading for Klaip\u0117da 120 miles away. They were joined at the territory border by 300 local volunteers, swelling their num \u00ad bers to perhaps 1400. German residents, on instructions from Berlin, offered no resistance. The force moved on to confront French com m ander G abriel Petisne in the port city, wherein a diplomatic committee was just then completing its report deeming Lithuania unfit to assume control of Klaip\u0117da Territory. Elsewhere in the world, by sheer luck, French troops were being deployed in Germany\u2019s Ruhr district to address another difficulty.<\/p>\n Little is written of the battle in the port city on 13 January. Easily out doing most existing accounts, Lituanicas Lithuanian language version notes that Petisne\u2014 outnumbered two to one\u2014 surrendered only after a full scale assault claimed twenty-three lives, including twenty Lithuanians. On the heels of \u00a0World War I, the totals evidently have failed to impress the historians; books tend to label French resistance \u201ctoken\u201d, \u201chalfhearted\u201d, or \u201csymbolic\u201d. But in any case, the engagement climaxed the campaign and achieved the goal: the French were out.<\/p>\n All Lithuania held its breath waiting for the Allies to react. No one in the West was sure how closely Galvanauskas had drawn Lithuanian-Russian ties in 1922, or how the Soviets would respond to any Allied retaliation in Klaip\u0117da. The French, additionally, were distracted by the Ruhr crisis. Ultimately, no one among the French, British or Poles judged the district as worth the risk of a confrontation with Russia. A League of Nations commission to Klaip\u0117da found no signs of disruption on the 17th. The rebels ignored a directive to vacate on the 27th. Three weeks later, a conference of ambassadors approved the takeover. Paperwork would require over a year, but effectively 17 February marked the end of the anxious days.<\/p>\n Success brought Budrys a generally pleasant notoriety. He was appointed first Governor (\u017dilius would become the second) of the territory. From among three principals and 1400-odd lesser possibilities, Lithuanians dubbed him \u201cThe Klaip\u0117da Liberator\u201d. This was understandable; he had taken the most significant personal risk, apparent to even those who were unaware of the affair\u2019s subtleties. Then too, his rural upbringing and limited education made him easier to relate to than the college-educated Galvanauskas and \u017dilius. Working in his father\u2019s New York offices much later, Algis witnessed the great respect, sometimes even awe, Jonas inspired in Lithuanian visitors. This effect would be seen less and less as the generations familiar with his exploits died off; the Western or Soviet-educated knew nothing of his past.<\/p>\n The Nazis remembered, however, and practically forced his departure from the Baltic area in 1936. Largely reversing the earlier propaganda process, Hitler encouraged the region\u2019s Germans to clamor for a reattachment to the German state. Algis recalls bricks starting to come through closed windows of the home he shared with Jonas and his mother Regina in Konigsberg (Kaliningrad city today). It was a bewildering situation for the five year old son, too young to understand either hate or politics. The father grimly requested a transfer, turning away from, among many less tangible things, a production farm he\u2019d bought and built up on the side. Comfortably ahead of the 1939-45 occupation of Klaip\u0117da by Hitler, he moved his family to New York city.<\/p>\n The surroundings changed drastically for the three of them, but Jonas remained in the embattled state\u2019s employ for another twenty-eight years. Discussing the aborted financing of his college education, Algis observes that Jonas would never make more than $5,000 a year at any point. That was ordinarily a good wage in 1950s America, but not for carrying an extended household which included numerous relatives arrived after the war, as Jonas did. Algis ticks off the names of ten maternal and paternal kin beholden to his father. A noble and expensive proposition, everyone realized. Substituting Lithuania for the lost ladylove, we imagine the soul of Jonas\u2014 wherever it is almost forty years after his passing\u2014 voicing the same commitment.<\/p>\n \u201c(Jonas) had no hobbies. He was totally devoted to his work, doing it ten or twelve hours a day, seven days a week, until his death. He was a very tough man, physically.\u201d \u00a0\u2014 Algis Budrys<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" BY TOM GREGG (GRIGONIS) ‘The Klaip\u0117da Liberator’ Although Jew historical works record it, Jonas Budrys was the chief engineer of one of Lithuania\u2019s proudest moments: 1923 suprising in the Klaip\u0117da Territory. History is like as sieve , a great filter of facts. The smaller, less significant data falls through and is forgotten. The more significant …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":3070,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[135,70,64],"tags":[146,78],"class_list":["post-3052","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","","category-geography-regions","category-history-1900","category-politics","tag-greeg-t","tag-lith-heritage"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.draugas.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3052","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.draugas.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.draugas.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.draugas.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.draugas.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3052"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.draugas.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3052\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.draugas.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3070"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.draugas.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3052"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.draugas.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3052"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.draugas.org\/news\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3052"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"2000-05-15-LHERITAGE](\"https:\/\/www.draugas.org\/news\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/02\/2000-05-15-LHERITAGE-2-300x248.jpg\")
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\nBut a patriot\u2019s life seldom revolves around money. We think of an Arthur Conan Doyle short story, \u201cHow Brigadier Gerard Lost His Ear\u201d in which the French title character defends his endangered Italian sweetheart. Circumstances soon after part them forever. In one of the most gallant closing lines in all literature, the lonely old soldier reflects, \u201cYouth is past and passion is gone, but the soul of the gentleman can never change, and still Etienne Gerard would very gladly lose his other ear if he might do her a service\u201d.<\/p>\n