Without revealing to the Consul the true purpose of my journey, I explained to him that my journey to London was undertaken not merely as a social visit to Mrs. Pankhurst, but as an escape from the terror of Bolshevism, which made life perilous for me anywhere in Russia. He advised me to go to the local Soviet, tell them of my desire to go to Mrs. Pankhurst, of whom the Bolsheviks had certainly heard, and ask for passports. The Consul thought that the Soviet could not find anything suspicious about my journey to his country, and would allow me to proceed unmolested. I replied with an account of some of the things I had endured at the hands of Lenin’s government and said that I was certain that my formal application for a passport would be the end of my adventure. He then telephoned to the American Consul at Vladivostok, informed him of my arrival and my plight, and enlisted his interest.
I returned to the hotel, with three hundred roubles in my purse, given me by the Consul. The place was dirty and without conveniences, but it was almost impossible to obtain decent accommodation in the city. However, the proprietor of the inn was very helpful and later saved me from trouble.
The following day the Consul told me that all efforts to win the goodwill of the Soviet toward me had not only failed but had been met with threats. The Bolsheviks might even send me back, I learned. I renewed my entreaties to the Consul to send me away, even without the Soviet’s passport. He would not promise to do so, but under the pressure of my appeals finally showed an inclination to consider the matter.
Upon leaving the Consulate I was stopped in the street by a soldier.
“Bochkareva?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Why did you come here to tramp the streets?” was the next question.
“I came to visit my relatives, but found that they had moved, so I am going back soon.”
He let me go my way. As soon as I arrived at the inn, the proprietor took me aside to tell me that representatives of the Soviet had called in my absence, and inquired as to my doings and my plans. He had informed them that I had come to visit some relatives, but was unable to find where they were living. They had left with the threat that they would return to arrest me. I did not intend to wait for their arrival and allow myself to be detained and sent back. I telephoned to the Consul and told him of the latest development. Fortunately he had some good news for me. An American transport was to touch at Vladivostok two days later!
Nadia and I hurried to the Consulate. The Consul declared that the Bolsheviks had threatened him if he should be found aiding me to get away. Meanwhile he proceeded to have all the necessary foreign passports prepared for us, and we were photographed for that purpose. The difficulty of leaving Vladivostok without a pass from the Soviet still confronted us. The harbour was under strict supervision, and the boats that were used to ferry passengers from the shore to the steamships were manned and inspected by Bolsheviks.
For nearly two days I remained in my room, in constant dread of the appearance of Red Guards to arrest me. They did not come, however, apparently convinced that I could not escape them anyway. They had ample reason afterwards to change their minds about this. I then went to the Consul again. The American transport Sheridan was due that night, he said, but he was not sure yet if the Captain would be willing to take me on board.
Meanwhile we sought a means to elude the inspectors at the port. A large travelling basket was tried, and I managed to pack myself into it, but the Consul decided that I might be suffocated in case the basket should be left at the pier for a couple of hours. So I got out of the basket.
The transport arrived in the evening, and the Captain expressed his willingness to carry me across the Pacific. At the request of the Consul I remained in his house, while my sister, accompanied by an officer, went to the inn to get my things, and with them left for the vessel. Two hours later I called up the inn to find out whether Nadia had been there with the officer. The proprietor informed me that about fifty Red Guards had just been there looking for me, and had been disagreeably surprised to learn that I had departed already.
“Where did she go?” they asked the proprietor.
“To the railway station, to take a train,” he lied.
“What train?” they shouted indignantly. “There are no trains leaving tonight.” With that they went away, presumably to search for me.
I communicated to the Consul what I had learned, and he hid me in a closet. Shortly afterwards several Red Guards arrived, asking for Bochkareva. The Consul denied knowledge of my whereabouts, declared that I had come to him only once, as a result of which he had applied to the Soviet for a passport for me, but since he was refused he washed his hands of my case. The Red Guards said that I had been observed entering the Consulate, but had not been seen to leave it. They glanced about for me and then left, after the Consul’s denial of my visit.
The old Colonel returned, after taking Nadia aboard the transport, with the news that I should have company on the way, as eight Russian officers were to be passengers on the same vessel. Hundreds of Russian officers had arrived in Vladivostok in the belief that they could join the British army there and be transported to France. Unfortunately the Allies would not accept their services and they found themselves in difficult circumstances, without means to return to European Russia and
