Semyon Krivoshein wasn't a name you might have expected to hear blasting out of Western propaganda speakers during World War II, but maybe he should’ve been. Krivoshein was a Soviet tank commander born in February 1899 in what is now Belarus. Trained and tempered in military discipline, Krivoshein became a central figure in his nation's armored warfare strategy. While known to some fans of World War II history, the mainstream discourse overlooks him—especially given his role in some of the most significant tank battles on Russian soil and beyond.
Krivoshein's claim to fame came as the Soviet Union grappled with the growing threat of Nazi Germany. He was crucial in the Battle of Kursk in 1943, a turning point that put the Soviet forces on favorable toes against Hitler’s Army. As the commander of the 3rd Mechanized Corps, his strategy helped Soviet forces become victorious in one of the largest tank battles in history. Now let’s get this straight: Krivoshein was no saint, but he was a committed hero that Western narratives often sweep under the rug, like that spare sock from the laundry.
What's fascinating is that Krivoshein's strategic mind was not just reserved for his exploits in combat but was formed during the pivotal pre-war years. He even shared a platform with Nazi Major-General Heinz Guderian during the infamous Brest-Litovsk Parade in 1939, showcasing Soviet-German cooperation before it predictably disintegrated. Talk about walking a diplomatic tightrope!
In stark contrast to the picture painted, Krivoshein was more than a Soviet yes-man. His earlier endeavors included the Spanish Civil War, where he supported the Republican government, which some see as a contradiction. But geopolitics isn't a clean playing field of heroes versus villains. It’s a chess board. Krivoshein held firm lines that crossed both international and ideological borders. After all, your enemy's enemy might just be your temporary friend.
You might be wondering why Western sources have given him a blind eye. Maybe it’s because he was better on the battlefield than in the bookshelves, or maybe it’s due to the political convenience to paint the entire Soviet apparatus in hues of villainy. Ironically, American history prefers to lavish all attention on Patton and Montgomery while conveniently "forgetting" about the man whose tactical brilliance was acknowledged even by those across the Iron Curtain.
Another twist in the plot: Krivoshein was Jewish—an identity buried amidst his Soviet military medals. In a regime notoriously unfriendly to religion, his ethnicity adds a layer of complexity to his narrative. Here was a Jewish man commanding hundreds of tanks in a land that had its notorious anti-Semitic episodes. It gets even thicker when you consider the Soviet regime's own history on ethnic minorities. A contradiction wrapped in a dilemma? Absolutely. But that's hardly unique in the theatre of war.
Even after the war, Krivoshein's life was a diplomatic chess game. He had to navigate the shifting allegiances within the Soviet military apparatus, eventually becoming the deputy commander of armored troops in the Belarusian Military District. He was awarded the prestigious title of Hero of the Soviet Union, but his legacy didn’t stop there. His life spanned through the darkest and brightest days in Soviet military history; his commitment to the tank formations he commanded was unwavering.
His memoirs, "Through Three Wars," offer a firsthand account of his experiences and retell the valor that never received the Hollywood treatment it deserved. Not shocking since the historical lens is often manipulated to fit a narrative, one that dismisses any admirable Soviet contributions to defeating fascism. Double standards are just part of the narrative gymnastics some prefer.
Semyon Krivoshein was a man of his time, navigating the tangled web of 20th-century geopolitics with skill, bravery, and, let's admit it, some audacity. Maybe the reason Krivoshein doesn’t make it into liberal-friendly history lessons has more to do with the inconvenient fact that heroes can be found even in places and roles that don’t align with today's sterile ideological battles.