He then came in and smilingly approached my bed and kissed me.
“My little heroine, I am very glad that you escaped serious injury. There were many alarming reports about you. It was a brave act to march straight into the midst of the Bolsheviks. Nevertheless, it was foolish of you and the wounded men to oppose such tremendous odds. I have heard of your victory in the fight against the introduction of the committee system in the Battalion. Well done! I wanted to call and congratulate you earlier, but I have been very busy.”
I sat up in bed to show my visitor that I was quite well. He told me of the appointment of General Kornilov to the command of the southwestern front, and of a luncheon to be given the following day at the Winter Palace, at which Kornilov would be present. Rodzianko inquired if I should be strong enough to attend it, and the physician thought that I probably should. Rodzianko then took his leave, assuring me of his readiness to help me at all times and wishing me a speedy recovery.
The following morning I spent at the window, with my head bandaged, watching my women drill. I felt strong enough to go with Rodzianko to the luncheon. He called before noon and drove me to the Winter Palace. In the reception-room there I was introduced by the President of the Duma to General Kornilov.
Middle-aged, with a spare, manly, vigorous frame, a keen face, grey moustache, Mongol eyes, semi-Mongol cheekbones: this was Kornilov. He spoke little, but every word he uttered rang out clearly. One felt instinctively that here was a man of powerful character and of dogged perseverance.
“I am very glad to meet you,” he said, shaking my hand. “I congratulate you on your determined fight against the committees.”
“General,” I replied, “I was determined because my heart told me that I was in the right.”
“Always follow the advice of your heart,” he said, “and you will do right.”
At this moment Kerensky appeared. We rose to greet him. He shook hands with Kornilov, Rodzianko and me. The War Minister was in a good humour and smiled benignly at me.
“Here is an obstinate little person. I never saw her like,” Kerensky said, pointing at me. “She took it into her head not to form a committee, and nothing could break her will. One must do her justice. She is a diehard, holding out all alone against us all. She foolishly persisted in maintaining that no such law existed.”
“Well,” said Rodzianko in my defence, “she isn’t such a fool. She is perhaps wiser than you and me together.”
We were then asked into the dining-room. Kerensky was seated at the head of the table, I at its opposite end. Rodzianko was on Kerensky’s right, Kornilov was on my right. There were also three Allied Generals present. One was on my left, and the other two were between Kerensky and Kornilov.
The conversation was carried on mostly in a foreign tongue and I understood nothing. Besides, I had my troubles with the dishes and table etiquette. I did not know how to deal with the unfamiliar dishes, and blushed deeply several times, while I watched my neighbours from the corners of my eyes.
Now and then I engaged in conversation with Kornilov. He approved my decided views about the necessity of discipline in the army, and declared that if discipline were not restored, then Russia was lost. The burden of Kerensky’s conversation at the table was, that in spite of the considerable disintegration that was thinning the ranks of the army, it was not too late as yet. He was contemplating a trip to the front, feeling certain that it would lead to our troops taking the offensive.
Finally Kerensky got up, and the luncheon was over. He told me before leaving that there would be a solemn presentation to me of the two standards and icons sent by the soldiers from the front. I replied that I did not deserve such honours, but hoped to be able to justify his trust in me.
Kornilov parted from me cordially, inviting me to call on him at his headquarters when I arrived at the front. Rodzianko then escorted me home and asked me to come to see him before leaving for the front.
The time remaining before the date fixed by Kerensky for the dedication of the Battalion’s battle flag was spent in intensive training and rifle practice. The women were almost ready to go to the front and awaited June 25 with impatience.
Finally that day arrived. The women were in high spirits. My heart was filled with expectation. The Battalion arose early. Every soldier had a new uniform. The rifles were spick and span. There was a holiday-feeling in the air. We were all cheerful, though nervous under the weight of responsibility which the day was to bring.
At nine in the morning two bands arrived at our gates. They were followed by Captain Kuzmin, assistant Commander of the Petrograd Military District, with instructions for the Battalion to be at the St. Isaac’s Cathedral at ten o’clock in full military array. We started out almost immediately, led by the two military bands.
The throng of people moving in the direction of the Cathedral was enormous. The entire neighbourhood was lined up with units of the garrison. There were troops of all kinds. There was even a body of Cossacks, with flags on the points of their spears. A group of distinguished citizens and officers stood on the steps leading to the entrance of the church. It included Kerensky, Rodzianko, Milyukov, Kornilov, Polovtzev and others. The Battalion saluted as we
