A Lessons Learned or Case Study of

Museum Survival During Wartime

 

Derived from the book

“The State Hermitage Museum in Leningrad, the Soviet Union,

During World War II (The Great Patriotic War)”

 

 

            [No one, especially a cultural institution manager or its staff, wishes to admit before or during an armed conflict that worse conditions and will occur. Nor can many cultural institutions physically or psychologically prepare beforehand, when it would be easier to prepare for "the unthinkable." Every cultural institution manager and designated protection chief should be obligated to think about it in advance and prepare contingency plans, as good risk management business practice.

 

            This is a lessons learned or case study of museum survival, to introduce the reader to "some" wartime conditions such as bombardment and siege, which occurred at the State Hermitage Museum, which will occur again in other places, perhaps in slight variations. This document is written to give the reader the feeling and the facts of one situation, for the reader to apply and "role play" in new situations. Let us all learn from each other's experiences.

 

            Since the war of the European continent of the 1940's, "war" has become more varied and complex, and combatant leaders justify destroying their opponent's culture as well, including treasures, records, and symbols, in government buildings, museums, archives, monuments and libraries. During wartime operations, opposing forces will usually if not regularly attempt to purposely destroy institutions that represent the opponent's culture. Please consider what we can do to save not only our own culture, but ALL cultures. David Liston, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC]

 

 

On 22 June 1941 the German Government's Third Reich invaded the Soviet Union, war was declared, and the Soviet Government instructed the State Hermitage staff to prepare for collection evacuation "soon." Hermitage keepers, curators, researchers, librarians, restorers, watchmen, attendants and cleaners responded at once to the call from Moscow to prepare immediately for evacuation. "Hermitage staff listed as air raid wardens were henceforth to stay in the museum round the clock." Contingency plans pre-existed and many supplies were already on site. Evacuation packing inventories matched cases already stencilled with similar numbers.

 

On 23 June 1941 air raid sirens started over Leningrad and for six days and nights the amplified Hermitage staff removed over a million objects from exhibit, brought up from storage crates and packing materials for them, and packed objects, as Stage I collection evacuation, primarily objects from exhibit.

 

Large paintings were taken down, removed from frames, and packed flat in frames. Pictures of small and medium format were packed in cases with divided slots. Pastels were left in their glass frames, had paper glued to the glass cover, and packed against plywood pieces. Drawings and engravings were wrapped in tissue and packed in cardboard boxes. Small items were embedded individually in cotton wool and pads of shavings, deposited in boxes, and laid in shavings in crates. The coin collection that was already laid out on cloth‑lined trays in cabinets were inventoried, surrounded in tissue paper that was twisted around it, wrapped in cotton wool, and put into envelopes of stiff paper. They were assisted by the Hermitage guide staff. Special cases and packing were required: Rembrandt's "Return of the Prodigal Son" had a special case. The 1.5-ton sarcophagus of Alexander Nevsky was one of the heaviest. Michelangelo's "the Crouching Boy" was fitted into a double‑walled crate. The Chertomlyk amphora had first to be filled by hand with bits of cork.  Houdon's statue of Voltaire required special handling because of its weight.

 

On 1 July 1941 about midnight trucks loaded up at the Hermitage and left under armed escort, to take Stage I collection materials to a special train at the Leningrad railway shipping depot. The train included pullman and freight cars, a car for Hermitage staff, one for the armed escort, and open platforms at either end of the train for anti‑aircraft and machine‑guns. Two engines pulled the train and a third engine went ahead to clear the tracks.

 

On 6 July 1941 in the morning the Stage I Hermitage Evacuation train arrived at the Sverdlovsk railway station after five days of travel, with unloading at once and with the steel‑plated freight car to take priority. The collections were trucked to three buildings specially assigned: the local picture gallery, the building of a former Catholic church and the Museum of Atheism, which were filled to the ceiling high with the crates and boxes from Leningrad.

 

On 20 July 1941 the Stage II collection evacuation began, primarily as objects from reserves\storage. The shipment was seven hundred thousand Hermitage works of art, which left in four hundred and twenty‑two crates on twenty‑three trucks. The second evacuation included everything possible to move because of the worsening war situation at the fighting fronts. The two stages of evacuation cleared 1.5 million well-packed collection objects from Leningrad and used fifty tons of wood shavings, three tons of cotton wool and sixteen kilometers of oil-cloth.

 

On 21 July 1941 the first bombs fell on Leningrad. Air raids required blackout lighting conditions and regular retreats to air raid shelters in the cellars. Bombing and artillery shell hits required building inspections, removal of damaged or threatened collection objects, and building repair whenever possible, especially closure to adverse weather.

 

On 30 August 1941 the Stage III collection evacuation of three hundred and fifty-one crates was canceled because Nazi forces cut the last open railway line the day before. There was planking but no carpenters. Packaging materials were already consumed, which forced Hermitage staff to solicit boxes of wood, cardboard and other materials for packaging from local food stores and shops. The crated Stage III Hermitage collection did not leave but remained packed in their cases on the ground floor for the remainder of the war.

 

On 4 September 1941 the first long-range artillery hit the city. On 6 September 1941 the first bombs fell from airplanes. On 21 September 1941 all Leningrad citizens were called to volunteer to defend the city. On 7 October 1941 Hitler vowed to completely destroy the city.

 

During 1941, Army experts made a structural evaluation of the Hermitage and determined that the vaulting and walls of the ground floor and of the palace basements were massive enough to withstand the destructive power of the biggest blockbuster bomb and the largest artillery shell. The museum staff worked as movers and riggers to move from the upper floors to safer places thousands of items that were in the museum reserves/storage and remained unpacked. Unique pieces not removed because of their fragility or excessive weight were moved to first‑floor rooms or protected in place with planking and sandbags. Heavy marble and bronze objects and elegant pieces of furniture that could be dismantled were taken apart and brought down to the ground floor piece by piece. Everything not evacuated was carried to ground‑floor rooms and cellars, including tabletops, torches and massive vases. Porcelain that were left behind was carried to the cellar and half covered with sand on the stone floor.

 

For building fire fighting and object blast protection, a large quantity of sand was brought by barge up the Neva River, through the Winter Canal, piled in one of the Hermitage's inner courtyards, and moved by hand to all floors and attics of the palace, the highest being twenty‑eight meters. Glass windows were glued with tape and broken ones replaced with plywood, as long as plywood remained available.

 

Every Hermitage staff member was recruited to work for city defence and for Hermitage museum emergency teams in order to protect the country, the city, the buildings and the collections which were not evacuated. Air alerts were announced over the radio, and Hermitage air raid wardens (ARP teams) hurried each time to "take their posts in the halls, on the rooftops and by the doors and gates. "During the autumn and winter of 1941‑42 there used to be as many as ten to twelve air‑raid alerts sounded daily." Fire‑fighting teams, many recruited from researchers, did a fine job contributing significantly to save its buildings. The Museum was on the priority list of the city's fire brigade. As soon as the war began, the number of fire‑warden posts at the Hermitage was greatly increased. Crash rescue teams performed emergency building repair and restoration work. They "speedily and with surprising dexterity and skill undertook to make good the breakdowns and damage caused to the buildings by the shelling and bombardment." The young and fit museum staff volunteered or was asked to serve in military service and defense forces. Hermitage staff who were not well physically fit for such service stayed to work on collection evacuation, stand air raid watches, serve in emergency response teams, work in the Hermitage convalescent center when it was open, and volunteer to defend the city digging trenches and putting up anti‑tank barriers.

 

Hermitage staff regularly packed and moved museum objects around inside the museum during the war. At first the staff prepared the three stages of collection evacuation. Then they consolidated collection objects to safer locations, rescued objects from damaged parts of the building, and served on emergency teams. There was little time for fear or despair. Winter brought severe cold to people and snow and ice to the building, especially where the building was left open to damage from the weather. The Soviet Academy of Sciences and the Hermitage's Solianoi Pereulok Building evacuated their collections into the Hermitage. Staff continued to move valuable collections to safer and drier premises, to check on collection conservation conditions, to protect objects including rugs, carpets, tapestries, textiles from deterioration from moths and mold, and metallic objects from corrosion and tin plague.

 

Through October 1941 Hermitage staff continued their academic research and writing whenever there was time and opportunity, "pulling out drawers... of unfinished studies and treatises..." In October Hermitage staff celebrated the 800th anniversary of the Azerbaijanian poet and thinker Nizami of Gianja, and the following year the 500th anniversary of the Uzbek poet Alisher Navoi, which continued for three days.

 

In November and December of 1941, living conditions were dark, cold, and quiet, without much electricity or heating, under blackout conditions. A bulletin board inside the staff door was the most universal means of notice and communication. It posted war news of museum staff (including deaths), staff schedules, and duties, which varied seasonally according to wartime activities, threats to the building and collections, and available daylight. Air raid wardens were assigned to posts in the building day and night in every season and weather condition. Between wartime actions, the Hermitage echoed with the sounds of carpentry, crate moving, and the human efforts to move materials up and down stairs and across the five buildings of the museum. Staff was regularly scheduled and busy to make building repairs and cleaning. During wartime action, air raids and sirens, ack-ack, airplane engines, tracers and flares at night, aerial and artillery bombardment near and far, explosion impacts, emergency sirens, human shouts measured the time, and the lingering smells of smoke and cordite. In the neighborhood, military vehicles moved up and down the streets, especially along the embankment. One saw barrage balloons by day and searchlights by night. Loudspeaker announcements broadcast from moving vehicles. Ack-ack and machine guns were mounted, tested and shot from rooftops. Tank barriers were built at street corners. People's volunteers drilled in the streets. In the winter, very little could be seen from outside except the rare smoke from a stove. In the summer, staff and families ventured out to dry objects in the direct sunlight, tend vegetable gardens of carrots, cabbage and onions, and "enjoy the sun."

 

In the autumn and winter of 1941 some two thousand people lived in the Hermitage's cellars, which were converted into twelve air‑raid shelters when the war broke out. This included Hermitage staff, families, and noted people in science and the arts. With the carpenters and masons gone to the front, researchers bricked up the basement windows, reinforced the doors with iron plating, knocked together crude sleeping benches and brought down tables and chairs. They offered fairly reliable protection for the occupants when shells and bombs burst overhead.

 

On 8 November 1941 supply lines across Lake Ladoga closed, with daily bread rations for factory workers cut to 300 grams a day, then 250 grams, and half those amounts for children under twelve. It had become "the Road of Life."

 

From December 1941 to Spring 1942 the Ship "Poliarnaya Zvezda" or "Pole Star" provided Hermitage electricity when the city electrical grid died that fall. The ship was tied up on the Neva River next to the Hermitage and supplied limited electricity to a few rooms in the building. The boat was the former pleasure yacht of the imperial family, now an auxiliary vessel for the submarine squadron, whose commander was recognized on the walls of the Hermitage and repaid his recognition with electricity.

 

During the winters of 1941 through 1944, siege conditions depreciated the quality of life to starvation, illness or injury and freezing death for tens of thousands of Leningrad citizens per month. Heating for other than cooking was a rare luxury. Food shortages created incredible specialty foods such as "joiner's glue jelly" and "drying oil fritters," made from the frying of discarded potato peelings.

 

In January 1942 water pipes burst in the cellars, unseen, and streams of water gushed in, to flood all the porcelain buried in the sand. "We descended into the dark cellars in rubber waders into water up to our knees. Placing each foot down carefully, so as not to step on these fragile objects, we felt around to pluck out object after object. Some of the dishes and plates floated on the surface. Though the necks of some of the taller vases jutted out above the water, most of the items, which were clogged up with sand and filth, had settled on the floor. Feeling the way with feet only, we could hardly believe it." The unglazed white china had absorbed the water and yellowed. Many items that were restored came apart. The huge cut‑glass chandeliers had also been inundated, even though ropes to trestles slung them up for the purpose. Objects came from the water without their respective inventory labels, with hundreds floating around, causing terrible confusion. Staff left the porcelain to dry out in the yard in the spring sunshine on top of sacking or right out on the green grass. A company of army school cadets were assigned to assist the Hermitage salvage work, who had recently moved into Leningrad across Lake Ladoga to go through a course of officer training.

 

In January 1942 the "Road of Life" reopened across Lake Ladoga, which increased bread rations and improved living conditions. In February 1942 museum staff were asked to evacuate in order to "mothball" the museum until the end of the war. During the winters across Lake Ladoga a "Road of Life" permitted some breaks in the 900-day siege. During the winter, excessive deaths turned air raid shelters in the cellars into morgues for 46 bodies and staff moved upstairs to live. As corpses could be moved, they were taken to common graves on what was once the fringe of the city. Corpses were stacked in the winter for burial later, in the spring.

 

In January 1942 Leningrad City Government opened a convalescent center in the Hermitage, and in four other museums. In one week a hundred cots were set up, with Hermitage keepers and curators appointed to tend the sick. The center continued until May 1.

 

From January to April 1942 enemy shelling was heavy. On 18 March six shells exploded on the grounds. One large caliber shell hit the walls facing the Kitchen Yard which destroyed part of the wall, completely shattering 3 000 windowpanes, including the large Main Staircase windows.

 

In the Spring of 1942 winter's effects and war destruction were reversed. Because the streets were buried in snow drifts, long icicles drooped from the eaves, pavements completely frozen over, with piles of filth lay everywhere, garbage which cluttered courtyards, and roads strewn with rubble, the city undertook a massive city spring cleaning. Day after day three hundred thousand Leningraders worked from dawn till dusk to clear away the snow, ice, muck and rubble, handling picks, shovels and brooms and keeping the roadways such as the Palace Embankment free for army traffic, since they were right behind the front lines. Hermitage staff did their job, too, to clear the entire sprawling grounds of the Hermitage buildings of the ice and the snow, the muck and the rubbish, scouring cluttered‑up yards, attics and cellars, sewage pipes, and every nook or cranny where there might be filth, where the rays of the spring sun could develop them into breeding grounds of contagion and disease. After exhausting labors, one could walk along the broad streets and splendid embankments that seemed swept clean "as if by one gigantic broom."

 

In the Spring of 1942 snow on the rooftops melted away releasing water that dripped through the fragment‑riddled roofs. From the attics the water ran down further into the rooms themselves, to splotch the ceilings and their painted panels with dark and ugly stains. Pails and basins that were strategically placed in the attics did not help much, whic were filled to overflowing almost before they were set in place. Everything humanly possible was done to patch the roofs with burlap and sacking, but the moment one hole was plugged up, another would appear somewhere else. Water from rooms with large skylights flooded down upon the parquet flooring of the central rooms, combined with building debris and sand, to create one watery sea of rubble. Elderly lady curators climbed up onto the roofs and tried to lash plywood boards to the skylight frames with wire. But each sharp gust of wind would dislodge the boards and again the melting snow was dripped down to warp, buckle and swell the parquet floors inside.

 

Painted ceiling panels darkened and moisture accumulated on the walls, mirrors and columns. After squeezing water into pails with soaking rags which they used to take up the moisture, the little old ladies then went outside to help clear the yards.

 

The antique furniture in the former palace mews deteriorated. The walls exuded dampness that filled the air and was soaked up by the wood. The furniture oozed moisture and the upholstery was covered with mildew. They made use of every sunny day to drag out all the upholstered furniture into the courtyard to be dried in the sun. Upholstery on the couches and chairs was covered with a thick, furry layer of revolting, hideous yellow‑green mildew, which, when sundried and brushed off, created clouds of dust and the acrid fumes of sulphide that affected clothes, eyes, noses and throats.

 

By May of 1942 most supplies dwindled away, except for a supply of vitamins from Moscow. Trains ran for a while, then trams ran for a while, then persons depended on military vehicles with petrol. Then there were only horse drawn civilian vehicles, and a lot of walking, with sledding in the winters.

 

In May and June 1942 shelling became heavy again. On 8 May 1942 a member of the fire‑fighting team was killed on the spot during one of the regular air raids. Nazi long‑range artillery bombarded the Winter Palace and tossed a shell into a place where mildewed furniture was being cleaned, where a fire-fighting team member was posted. On 12 May 1942 a shall exploded outside the Main Entrance to the Palace Embankment and one into the depository of antique coaches, with a 70 mm caliber shell which hit the same place again on 18 June.

 

In the summer of 1942 good weather permitted the staff to take better stock of the building's condition. Broken cornices, peeling stucco and heavily pocked masonry, scarred towering palace buildings. Drying in the inner courtyards were antique pieces of furniture ringed the by that mountain of sand which had piled in a Hermitage courtyard on the Winter Canal. On top of the sand sat elderly ladies from the museum guard, stretching out their  "scurvy‑swollen black‑splotched legs, enjoying the warmth, and listening to the distant explosions of bursting shells."

 

From autumn 1942 until the restoration of city electricity, the Icebreaker "Yermak" provided limited electricity to the Hermitage. Museum electrical power was limited to one room and battery power for safety light bulb devices scattered throughout the museums.

 

From January to March of 1943 the Hermitage staff manually removed from the buildings eighty tons of broken glass and snow, including tons of ice, chipped not from streets or courtyards but from the floors, walls and even ceilings of rooms.

 

The warm moisture of early spring 1943 affected the building very badly. Water oozed from the frozen walls, saturated the inside air and settled, more intensively than during the spring of 1942, on the cold marble, the mirrors, the bronze mountings and the stone vases. Molding cracked off the ceiling and the cornices, and the gilding of the Main Staircase lost its glitter and peeled. Paint hung suspended in ragged tufts from the denuded, rusting metal beneath.

 

The spring of 1943 was a long exhausting battle against dampness. Everything humanly possible was done to repel and resist the attacking moisture to protect the building and its collections from corrosion and the tin plague, from the mildew and the furniture beetle, and from the swelling and peeling of paint.

 

Roots of the trees in the Hanging Garden penetrated the lead plating beneath and damaged the waterproofing. Downspout pipes from the Hanging Garden into the drains clogged up with refuse and ice, which re-routed water and muck into the story below, then into the palace mews as an unending deluge.

 

In June 1943 Mrs. Tatyana Tess wrote a newspaper article on conditions at the Hermitage. This noted Soviet newspaperwoman and special correspondent represented the Moscow newspaper "Izvestia." Many readers wanted to know that the Hermitage had survived, and read about its faithful museum staff.

 

During the autumn of 1943, the Government opened a school to train highly‑skilled craft specialists including builders, house‑painters, painters, molders, stained‑glass artists, marble cutters, mosaicists, woodcarvers, gilders, goldsmiths, and cabinet‑makers. In the spring and summer of 1944 this municipal trade school recruited its first trainees for molder, mason and gilder. These specialists eventually carried out restoration and other work at the Hermitage.

 

On 20 January 1944 the Hermitage blockade supply list was very sparse: fifteen litres of kerosene oil, five boxes of matches and fifteen candles. The local supply request asked for five and a half cubic meters of plywood.

 

In the summer of 1944 the Hermitage staff cleaned and repaired everything possible. They removed the piles of sand and rubbish, cleaning the Pavilion Hall and the Galleries by autumn. They tore down weather‑warped plywood from the boarded‑up windows, reglazed the windows themselves, cleaned and rehung chandeliers, waxed and polished 1 500 square meters of wood parquet floors in the exhibition rooms. House‑painters, glaziers, plumbers, masons, roofers and plasterers, cabinet‑makers, modellers, upholsterers, gilders, and workers in mosaic and marble put up scaffolding everywhere both outside and inside.

 

On 24 August 1944 Hermitage Director Iosif Orbeli in Moscow was advised to prepare a detailed plan for the capital repair of the Hermitage Museum buildings, the return of the evacuated collections, and the restoration of the main exhibition rooms and depositories. He ordered: sixty‑five tons of gypsum plaster, eighty tons of alabaster, one hundred tons of cement, two tons of joiner's glue, forty tons of chalk plaster, thirty tons of chipped chalk, one hundred tons of asphalt mastic, thirty tons of ground pigments, twenty tons of dry pigments, ten tons of white lead, twenty tons of linseed oil, four thousand square meters of plate glass, four thousand square meters of Bohemian glass of treble hardness, eight thousand square meters of similar glass of double hardness, two thousand square meters of extra‑fine glass, two thousand square meters of assorted canvas, thirty thousand square meters of decorative fabrics, two tons of casting bronze, two tons of sheet bronze and six kilograms of gold leaf.

 

On 8 Nov 1944 wartime Hermitage exhibition opened in a small area, representing all Hermitage Museum departments. The opening centrepiece was a bust of the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius which partisans brought to the Hermitage in 1944 after finding it next to a derailed a Nazi freight train which carried metal scrap back to Germany.

 

On 9 May 1945 everyone celebrated the end of the war, with crowds in Palace Square outside the Hermitage. Among those returning were Hermitage staff, family and friends who had gone out to the fighting fronts and who were evacuated throughout the distant hinterland.

 

Days afterwards, the Soviet Government issued an order to move evacuated State Hermitage Museum collections back to Leningrad. A month later, Hermitage Director Orbeli cabled Sverdlovsk that everything was ready.

 

On 7 October 1945 at daybreak two special‑purpose freight trains left the Sverdlovsk freight depot, the second one an hour after the first. The two trains carried the entire evacuated inventory of the Hermitage.

 

On 10 October 1945 the evacuated Hermitage collections arrived safely in Leningrad. A convoy of trucks loaded with sealed boxes and crates returned the collection to the museum from the railway station to the museum. With the Hermitage still covered by scaffolding and just newly repainted, the staff directed the trucks to unload on the embankment side where the scaffolding was already removed.

                                               

On 11 October 1945 Leningrad newspapers announced the safe return of the Hermitage collections, which had occurred on the preceding day.

 

On 13 October 1945 the evacuated collections were unloaded between 8:30 a.m. and 1 p.m. Curators stood in much the same manner as four years earlier, inventorying the lettering and figures stencilled on the boxes and crates against the corresponding letters and figures in the way bills and travel documents. "... no breakdowns, unfortunate occurrences or discrepancies during the evacuation return..." they reported to the State Committee for Art Affairs in Moscow.

 

On 4 November 1945 staff began to re-hang the artwork. Crates were carried in and deposited on the floor of the sixty‑eight rooms that were repaired and tidied, and curators unpacked them, leaving piles of shavings, clumps of cotton wool, wrinkled paper and oil‑cloth litter again. Collections were returned to where they had stood, hung or lain before the war in order to reassure Leningrad's art loving population that everything was back to normal and would be as it was before.

 

On 14 November 1945, the first sixty‑eight of the Hermitage rooms and halls reopened to the public through doors to the Palace Square, in similar splendour to that of the pre-war Hermitage four years prior. With the celebration of the twenty‑eighth anniversary of the October Revolution, Leningrad was decorated with red bunting for the festive event. The elderly little ladies serving as room attendants [re]took their places in the gilt plush chairs on the different floors. Visitors and guests invited for the opening gathered on the ceremonial staircase of the New Hermitage: those who had worked there, officers and men of the victorious armed forces, factory workers and engineers, building workers who had restored the museum, professors and students of Leningrad University, Academy of Arts and Conservatory, and city and government representatives. They were welcomed by the Hermitage staff: those who had stood guard there during the 900‑days of siege, those who had protected the collections in Sverdlosk, and Hermitage Director Iosif Orbeli who simply raised his hand and declared "The Hermitage is open!"

 

On 25 November 1945 the Main Entrance on the Palace Embankment side was reopened. Years later, after full restoration work, three hundred and forty‑five rooms were opened for display, and the Hermitage continued on with other improvements.