In a moment I was surrounded by a mob of indignant men who drew closer and closer, threatening to kill me. The officer who accompanied me apparently knew the temper of the crowd and realized the danger I had brought upon myself. He sent an urgent call to General Verkhovsky, Commander of the Moscow Military District, who was very popular with all the troops.
Meanwhile my escort was doing his best to calm the raging throng which soon grew to about one thousand. Closer and closer the circle drew in about me, and I was ready to say my last prayers. One man tripped me by the foot, and I fell. Another brought down the heel of his boot on my back. Only another minute and I should have been lynched. But God was with me. Verkhovsky arrived not an instant too soon and dashed into the crowd, which separated to make way for him. He addressed a few words to the men. They had a magic effect. I was saved.
From Moscow I went to the front, and when my girls saw me arrive there was general jubilation. “The Commander has come back!” they shouted, as they danced about. They had had a hard time in my absence, but unfortunately I did not remain long. In the evening of the day of my arrival a telegram came from General Kornilov, requesting my immediate presence. I left without delay for Army Headquarters, and there met the Commander-in-Chief and Rodzianko. The three of us went to Petrograd to see Kerensky. It was on the eve of the great Moscow Assembly, which met on the 28th of July.
During this journey Kornilov talked of his childhood. He was born in Mongolia, the son of a Russian father and a Mongolian mother. The conditions of life some fifty years ago in the Far East were such as to inure one to any hardships. Thence it was that Kornilov derived his contempt for danger and his spirit of adventure. He was given a good education by his father, who, I believe, was a frontier trader of peasant stock, but rose to his high position by sheer ability and doggedness. He learned to speak a dozen languages and dialects, more from mixing with all kinds of people than from books. In short, Kornilov was not of an aristocratic family or brought up in select surroundings. His knowledge of men and affairs was gained at first hand. He had enjoyed close contact with the Russian muzhik and workman. Himself of reckless valour, he came to love the Russian peasant-soldier for his contempt of death.
Upon our arrival at Petrograd we all went together to the Winter Palace. Kornilov entered Kerensky’s study first, leaving us to wait in the antechamber. It was a long wait for Rodzianko and myself. Kornilov remained locked up with Kerensky for two whole hours, and our ears bore witness to the stormy nature of the interview inside. When the Commander-in-Chief finally emerged from the office his face was flushed.
Rodzianko and I were admitted next. Kerensky was visibly agitated. He said that he had not expected me to carry out his errand in such a manner. I had not acted rightly, he declared.
“Perhaps I am guilty towards you, Minister,” I replied. “But I acted according to my conscience, and did what I felt was my duty to the country.”
Rodzianko then addressed Kerensky in some such manner as the following:
“Bochkareva reports from the front that you are rapidly losing favour with both men and officers; the officers because of the decay of discipline, the men because of their desire to go home. Now, consider what is happening to the army. It is going to pieces. The fact that the soldiers could allow a group of women and officers to perish is proof that the situation is critical. Something must be done immediately. Give absolute authority in the army to Kornilov, and he will save the front. And do you remain at the head of the Government, to save us from Bolshevism.”
I joined Rodzianko in his plea. “We are rapidly nearing an abyss,” I urged, “and it will soon be too late. Kornilov is an honourable man, I am convinced of it. Let him save the army now, so that people shall not say afterwards that Kerensky destroyed the country!”
“That will never happen!” he cried, banging his fist on the table. “I know what I am doing!”
“You are destroying Russia!” exclaimed Rodzianko, angered by Kerensky’s arrogance. “The blood of the country will be on your head.”
Kerensky turned red, then white as a corpse. His appearance frightened me. I thought he would fall down dead.
“Go!” he shrieked, beside himself, pointing toward the door. “Leave this room!”
Rodzianko and I moved to the exit. At the door Rodzianko stopped for a moment, turned his head and flung a few biting words at the Minister.
Kornilov was waiting for us in the anteroom. We drove to Rodzianko’s house for luncheon. There, Kornilov related to us the substance of his conference with Kerensky. He had told him that the soldiers were deserting the front in droves and that those who remained were useless, as they visited the German trenches every night and came back drunk in the morning. The fraternization had extended to the entire front. A whole Austrian regiment, well provided with liquor, came over to our trenches at one point and a debauch followed. Kornilov described the experience of my Battalion as related in official reports that had reached him and declared that numerous messages from officers asking for instructions were coming to him daily. But what instructions could he give? He had to seek instructions himself from Kerensky.
At this point the Minister asked him what was to be done, and he replied that capital punishment must be reestablished, that the committees must be abolished, that the Commander-in-Chief must be given full authority to disband units and execute agitators and rebels, if the front was to be saved from collapse and the
