Several volunteered to get some timber and make one.
“How about a grave? We must bury him with full military honours,” I went on. Some soldiers offered their services as gravediggers.
An officer went to look for a priest. I sent a soldier to the woods to make a wreath. Then I turned and asked:
“Now, will you go to the trenches to relieve your comrades?”
“Yes,” the men answered meekly.
It was an unforgettable scene. These five thousand men, all so docile and humble, some with tears still fresh on their cheeks, were like a forlorn flock of sheep that had lost its shepherd. It seemed impossible to believe that these men were capable of murder. You could curse them now, you could even strike them, and they would bear it without protest. They were conscious, deeply conscious of a great crime. Quietly they stood, from time to time, uttering a word of regret, engrossed in mourning. And yet these same lambs were ferocious beasts two hours ago. All the gentleness now mirrored in their faces was then extinguished by a hurricane of savage passion. These obedient children had actually been inhuman a short time ago. It was incredible, and still it was the truth.
Such is the character of the Russian people.
The coffin, an oblong box of unshaven boards, draped inside and out with a white sheet, was brought at four o’clock. The body had been washed, but it was impossible to restore the face to its normal appearance. It was disfigured beyond recognition. With the help of some of the men, I wrapped the body in canvas and placed it in the coffin. Instead of one there were four green wreaths made. The priest began to read the service but could not control himself and burst into sobs. The General, the Staff, and I, with candles in our hands, were sobbing too. Immediately behind the coffin, as the procession started, the dead officer’s orderly wailed in heartrending tones, recalling aloud the virtues of his master. Behind us marched almost the whole Corps, including the Regiment commanded by the dead man. The weeping was so general and so increased with every step that by the time the procession reached the grave the wailing could be heard for miles around. As the body was laid to rest everybody dropped a handful of sand into the grave. The lips of all were moving in prayer.
The order was given that by seven o’clock the Corps should be moved to relieve the soldiers at the fighting line. I went to my girls and gave the word for them to be ready too. They had heard of the disturbance and had passed some anxious moments, and therefore they gave me a hearty welcome. The General had telephoned to the front line that the Corps was a few hours late and asked the soldiers there to remain in the trenches for the night. The distance that we had to cover was about ten miles, and we arrived at the front before dawn.
The Battalion, now consisting of only some two hundred women, occupied a small sector to itself, opposite the town of Kreva. There was no sign of actual warfare at the fighting line. Neither the Germans nor the Russians used their arms. Fraternization was general. There was a virtual, if not formal, truce. The men met every day, indulged in long arguments and drank beer brought by the Germans.
I could not tolerate such war and ordered my women to conduct themselves as if everything were as usual. The men became very irritated by our militant attitude toward the enemy. A group of them, with the Chairman of the Regimental Committee, came over to our trench to discuss the matter.
“Who are our enemies?” began the Chairman. “Surely, not the Germans who want peace. It’s the bourgeoisie, the ruling class, that is the real enemy of the people. It’s against them that we ought to wage war, for they would not listen to the German peace proposals. Why does not Kerensky obtain peace for us? Because the Allies will not let him. Well, we will very soon drive Kerensky out of his office!”
“But I am not of the ruling class. I am a plain peasant woman,” I objected. “I have been a soldier since the beginning of the war and have fought in many battles. Don’t agitate here against officers.”
“Oh, I don’t mean you,” he replied; trying to win me over to the pacificist idea. Several German soldiers joined the Russian group. The discussion became heated. They repeated the old argument that the Germans had asked for peace and that the Allies had not accepted it. I replied that the Germans could have peace with Russia if they withdrew from the invaded parts of our country. So long as they kept our land, it was the duty of every Russian to fight and drive them out.
Thus life dragged on. Nights and days passed in discussions. Kerensky had almost entirely lost his hold on the men, who were drifting more and more toward Bolshevism. Finally, the feud between Kerensky and Kornilov reached a crisis. Kerensky asked the Commander-in-Chief by telephone to send some loyal troops to Petrograd, apparently realizing that his days were numbered. Kornilov replied with a message through Alexeiev, requesting a written certificate from Kerensky, investing the Commander-in-Chief with full authority to restore discipline in the army. It would seem that Kornilov was willing to save Kerensky, provided the latter allowed him to save the front.
But Kerensky evidently saw in this an opportunity of restoring his fallen prestige and securing his position. He therefore turned against Kornilov, publicly declaring that the latter was aiming at supreme power and he appealed to the workmen and soldiers to rise against the Commander of the army. The result was the brief encounter between the revolutionary masses and Kornilov’s Savage Division. Kornilov was defeated. Kerensky triumphed, and for the moment it looked as if he had attained his object. All the radical forces
