He telephoned to the Commander of my regiment to inquire into my record and told him where and why I was detained. A titter ran through the offices when they learned of Yashka’s adventure. The soldiers already knew from their comrades of the night’s escapade, and with great difficulty suppressed their merriment, not wanting to attract the attention of the officers. But now there was a general outburst of laughter. When I arrived it reached such a pitch that men were actually rolling on the floor, holding their sides. I was punished by two hours at attention, the third and last time during my training. For a week afterwards the regiment talked about nothing but Yashka’s adventure, nearly every soldier making a point of accosting me with the question: “Yashka, how did you like it there?”
The date of our departure was fixed. We received complete new outfits. I was permitted to go home to spend the last night, and it was a night of tears and sobs and longings. The three months I had spent in Tomsk as a soldier were, after all, remote from war. But now that I felt so near to that great experience, it awed me. I prayed to God to give me courage for the new trials that were before me, courage to live and die like a man.
There was great excitement in the barracks the following morning. It was the last that we were to spend there. In complete marching equipment we marched to the Cathedral where we were sworn in again. There was a solemn service. The church was filled with people, and there was an enormous crowd outside. The Bishop addressed us. He spoke of how the country was attacked by an enemy who sought to destroy Russia, and appealed to us to defend gloriously the Tsar and the Motherland. He prayed for victory for our arms and blessed us.
A spiritual fervour was kindled in the men. We were all so buoyant, so happy, so forgetful of our own lives and interests. The whole city poured out to accompany us to the station, and we were cheered and greeted all along the route. I had never yet seen a body of men in such high spirits as we were that February morning. Woe to the Germans that might have encountered us that day. Such was Russia going to war in those first months of the struggle. Hundreds of regiments like our own were streaming from east, north and south to the battlefields. It was an inspiring, uplifting, unforgettable sight.
My mother felt none of the exaltation with which I was filled. She walked along the street, beside my troop, weeping, appealing to the Holy Mother and all the saints of the Church, to save her daughter.
“Wake up: Marusia,” she cried, “What are you doing?” But it was too late. The ardour of war possessed me entirely. Somewhere deep in my heart my beloved mother’s wailings found an echo, but my eyes were dimmed with tears of joy. It was only when I bade my mother goodbye, hugging and kissing her for what she felt was the last time, and boarded the train, leaving her on the platform prostrate and frantic with grief, that my heart sank and I trembled from head to foot. My resolution was on the point of giving way when the train moved out of the station.
I was going to war.
VII
My First Experience of No Man’s Land
Our train was composed of a number of vans and one passenger-car. These vans, in which the soldiers sleep, have two bunks on each side, and are called teplushkas. There are no windows in a teplushka, as it is really only a converted luggage van. The passenger-car was occupied by the four officers of our regiment, including our new Company Commander, Grishaninov. He was a short, jolly fellow and soon won his men’s love and loyalty.
There was plenty of room to spare in the passenger-car and the officers took it into their heads to invite me to share it with them. When the invitation came the soldiers all shook their heads in disapproval. They suspected the motives of the officers and thought that Yashka would fare as well among them as among their superiors.
“Bochkareva,” said Commander Grishaninov, when I entered his car, “would you prefer to be stationed in this carriage? There is plenty of room.”
“No, your Excellency,” I replied, saluting. “I am a plain soldier, and it is my duty to travel as a soldier.”
“Very well,” declared the commander, chagrined. And I returned to my teplushka.
“Yashka is back: Good fellow, Yashka!” the men welcomed me enthusiastically, bestowing some strong epithets on the officers. They were immensely pleased at the idea that Yashka preferred their company in a teplushka to that of the officers in a spacious passenger coach, and made a comfortable place for me in a corner.
We were assigned to the Second Army then commanded by General Gurko, with headquarters at Polotsk. It took us two weeks to get there from Tomsk. General Gurko reviewed us at Army Headquarters and complimented the commander upon the regiment’s fitness. We were then assigned to the Fifth Corps. Before we started, the news spread that there was a woman in our regiment. Curiosity was at once aroused. Knots of soldiers gathered about my teplushka, peeping through the door and cracks in the sides to verify with their own eyes the incredible news. Then they would swear, emphasizing their words by spitting, to having witnessed the inexplicable phenomenon of a baba going to the trenches. The attention of some officers was attracted by the crowd, and they came up to find out what the excitement was about. They reported me to the Commandant of the station, who immediately sent for Colonel Grishaninov,
