I ORGANIZE THE BATTALION OF DEATH
The journey to Petrograd was uneventful. The train was crowded to
overflowing with returning soldiers who engaged in arguments day and
night. I was drawn into one such debate. Peace was the subject of all
discussion, immediate peace.
“But how can you have peace while the Germans are occupying parts of
Russia?” I broke in. “We must win a victory first or our country will
be lost.”
“Ah, she is for the old regime. She wants the Tsar back,” murmured some
soldiers threateningly.
The delegate accompanying me here advised me to keep silence if I
wanted to arrive safely in Petrograd. I followed his advice. He left me
at the station when we got to the capital. It was in the afternoon, and
I had never been in Petrograd before. With the address of Rodzianko on
my lips I went about making inquiries how to go there. I was directed
to take a tram, the first I had ever ridden in.
About five in the afternoon I found myself in front of a big house. For
a moment I lost courage. “What if he has forgotten me? He may not be
at home and nobody will know anything about me.” I wanted to retreat,
but where could I go? I knew no one in the city. Plucking up courage,
I rang the bell and awaited the opening of the door with a trembling
heart. A servant came out and I gave my name, with the information
that I had just arrived from the front to see Rodzianko. I was taken up
in a lift, a new experience to me, and was met by the secretary of the
President. He greeted me warmly, saying that he had expected me, and
invited me to make myself at home.
President Rodzianko then appeared, exclaiming cordially:
“My little heroine! I am glad you have come,” and he kissed me on the
cheek. He then presented me to his wife as his little heroine, pointing
to my military decorations. She was very cordial and generous in her
praise. “You have come just in time for dinner,” she said, leading me
into her dressing-room to remove the dust of the journey. This warm
reception cheered me greatly.
At the table the conversation turned on the state of affairs at the
front. Asked to tell of the latest developments, I said, as nearly as I
can remember:
“The agitation to leave the trenches and go home is growing. If there
is not an immediate offensive, all is lost. The soldiers will disperse.
It is also an urgent necessity to send back to the fighting line the
troops now scattered in the rear.”
Rodzianko answered as nearly as I can remember as follows:
“Orders have been given to many units in the rear to go to the front.
All have not obeyed, however. There have been demonstrations and
protests on the part of several troops, due to Bolshevist propaganda.”
That was the first time I ever heard of the Bolsheviks. It was May,
1917.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“They are a group led by one Lenin, who has just returned from abroad
by way of Germany, and Trotzky, Kolontai and other political exiles.
They attend the meetings of the Soviet at the Taurida Palace, in which
the Duma meets, stir up class-bitterness and demand immediate peace.”
I was further asked how Kerensky then stood with the soldiers, being
informed that he had just left for a tour of the front.
“Kerensky is very popular. In fact, the most popular man with the men
at the front. The men will do anything for him,” I replied.
Rodzianko then related an incident which made us all laugh. There was
an old porter in the Government offices who had served many Ministers
of the Tsar. Kerensky, it appeared, made it a habit to shake hands
with everybody. So that whenever he entered his office he shook hands
with the old porter, thus quickly becoming the laughing-stock of the
servants.
“Now, what kind of a Minister is it,” the old porter was overheard
complaining to a fellow-servant, “who shakes hands with me?”
After dinner Rodzianko took me to the Taurida Palace, where he
introduced me to a gathering of soldiers’ delegates, then in session.
I was warmly welcomed and given a prominent seat. The speakers gave
descriptions of conditions at various sections of the front that
tallied exactly with my own observations. Discipline was gone,
fraternization was on the increase, the agitation to leave the trenches
was gaining strength. Something must be done quickly, they argued. How
could the men be kept up to the mark till the moment when an offensive
should be ordered? That was the problem.
Rodzianko arose and proposed that I should be asked to suggest a
solution. He told them that I was a peasant who had volunteered early
in the war and fought and suffered with the men. Therefore, he thought,
I ought to know what was the right thing to do. Naturally, I was very
much embarrassed. I was totally unprepared to make any suggestions and,
therefore, begged to be excused until I had thought the matter over.
The session continued, while I sank deep into thought. For half an hour
I racked my brain in vain. Then suddenly an idea dawned upon me. It was
the idea of a Women’s Battalion of Death.
“You have heard of what I have done and endured as a soldier,” I said,
rising to my feet and turning to the audience. “Now, how would it do to
organize three hundred women like myself to serve as an example to the
army and lead the men into battle?”
Rodzianko approved of my idea. “Provided,” he added, “we could find
hundreds more like Maria Botchkareva, which I greatly doubt.”
To this objection I replied that numbers were immaterial, that what
was important was to shame the men, and that a few women at one place
could serve as an example to the entire front. “It would be necessary
that the women’s organization should have no committees and be run
on the regular army basis in order to enable it to help towards the
restoration of discipline,” I further explained.
Rodzianko thought my suggestion splendid and dwelt upon the enthusiasm
that would inevitably be kindled among the men if women should occupy
some of the trenches and take the lead in an offensive.
There were objections, however, from the audience. One delegate got up
and said:
“None of us can take exception to a soldier like Botchkareva. The
men at the front know her and have heard of her deeds. But who will
guarantee that the other women will be as decent as she and will not
dishonour the army?”
Another delegate remarked:
“Who will guarantee that the presence of women soldiers at the front
will not lead to the birth there of little soldiers?”
There was a general uproar at this criticism. I replied:
“If I take up the organization of a women’s battalion, I will hold
myself responsible for every member of it. I will introduce rigid
discipline and will allow no speech-making and no loitering in the
streets. When Mother Russia is drowning it is not a time to run an
army by committees. I am a common peasant myself, and I know that
only discipline can save the Russian Army. In the proposed battalion
I should exercise absolute authority and insist upon obedience.
Otherwise, there would be no use in organizing it.”
There were no objections to the conditions which I outlined as
preliminary to the establishment of such a unit. Still, I never
expected that the Government would consider the matter seriously and
permit me to carry out the idea, although I was informed that it would
be submitted to Kerensky upon his return from the front.
President Rodzianko took a deep interest in the project. He introduced
me to Captain Dementiev, Commandant of the Home for Invalids, asking
him to place a room or two at my disposal and generally take care of
me. I went home with the Captain, who presented me to his wife, a dear
and patriotic woman who soon became very much attached to me.
The following morning Rodzianko telephoned, suggesting that before the
matter was broached to the War Minister, Kerensky, it would be wise to
take it up with the Commander-in-Chief, General Brusilov, who could
judge it from the point of view of the army. If he approved of it, it
would be easier to obtain Kerensky’s permission.
General Headquarters were then at Moghilev and there we went, Captain
Dementiev and I, to obtain an audience with the Commander-in-Chief.
We were received by his Adjutant on the 14th of May. He announced our
arrival and purpose to General Brusilov, who ordered that we should be
shown in.
Hardly a week had elapsed since I left the front, and here I was again,
this time not in the trenches, however, but in the presence of the
Commander-in-Chief. It was a very sudden metamorphosis and I could not
help wondering, deep in my soul, over the strange ways of fortune.
Brusilov shook hands with us cordially. He was interested in the idea,
he said. Wouldn’t we sit down? We did. Wouldn’t I tell him about myself
and my ideas concerning the scheme?
I told him about my soldiering and my leaving the front because I
could not reconcile myself to the prevailing conditions. I explained
that the purpose of the plan would be to shame the men in the
trenches by letting them see the women go over the top first. The
Commander-in-Chief then discussed the matter from various points of
view with Captain Dementiev and approved of my idea. He bade us adieu,
expressing his hope for the success of my enterprise, and, in a happy
frame of mine, I left for Petrograd.
Kerensky had returned from the front. We called on Rodzianko and told
him of the result of our mission. He informed us that he had already
asked for an audience with Kerensky and that the latter wanted to see
him at seven o’clock the following morning, when he would broach the
subject to him. After his call on Kerensky, Rodzianko telephoned to
tell us that he had arranged for an audience for me with Kerensky at
the Winter Palace at noon the next day.
Captain Dementiev drove me to the Winter Palace, and a few minutes
before twelve I was in the ante-chamber of the War Minister. I was
surprised to find General Brusilov there, and he asked me if I had come
to see Kerensky about the scheme I had discussed with him. I replied
that I had. He offered to support my idea with the War Minister, and
introduced me to General Polovtzev, Commander of the Petrograd Military
District, who was with him.
Suddenly the door swung open and a young face, with eyes inflamed from
sleeplessness, beckoned to me to come in. It was Kerensky, at that
moment the idol of the masses. One of his arms was in a sling. With the
other he shook my hand. He walked about nervously and talked briefly
and dryly. He told me that he had heard about me and was interested in
my idea. I then outlined to him the purpose of the project, saying that
there would be no committees, but regular discipline in the battalion
of women.
Kerensky listened impatiently. He had evidently made up his mind on the
subject. There was only one point of which he was not sure. Would I be
able to maintain a high standard of morality in the organization? He
would allow me to recruit it immediately if I made myself answerable
for the conduct and reputation of the women. I pledged myself to do so.
And it was all settled. I was granted the authority there and then to
form a unit under the name of The First Russian Women’s Battalion of
Death.
It seemed unbelievable. A few days ago it had dawned upon me as a mere
fancy. Now the dream was adopted as a practical policy by the highest
in authority. I was in ecstasy. As Kerensky showed me out his eyes
fell on General Polovtzev. He asked him to give me all necessary help.
I was overwhelmed with happiness.
A brief consultation took place immediately between Captain Dementiev
and General Polovtzev, who made the following suggestion:
“Why not start at the meeting to be held to-morrow night in the
Mariynski Theatre for the benefit of the Home? Kerensky, Rodzianko,
Tchkheidze, and others will speak there. Let us put Botchkareva between
Rodzianko and Kerensky on the programme.”
I was seized with nervousness and objected strenuously that I could
never appear in public and that I should not know what to talk about.
“You will tell them just what you told Rodzianko, Brusilov and
Kerensky. Just tell them how you feel about the front and the country,”
they said, making light of my objections.
Before I had time to realize it I was already in a photographer’s
studio, and there had my portrait taken. The following day this
picture appeared at the head of big posters pasted all over the city,
announcing my appearance at the Mariynski Theatre for the purpose of
organizing a Women’s Battalion of Death.
I did not close an eye during the entire night preceding the evening
fixed for the meeting. It all seemed a fantastic dream. How could I
take my place between two such great men as Rodzianko and Kerensky?
How could I ever face an assembly of educated people, I, an illiterate
peasant woman? And what could I say? My tongue had never been trained
to elegant speech. My eyes had never beheld a place like the Mariynski
Theatre, formerly frequented by the Tsar and the Imperial family. I
tossed in bed in a state of fever.
“Holy Father,” I prayed, my eyes streaming with tears, “show Thy
humble servant the path to truth. I am afraid; instil courage into my
heart. I can feel my knees give way; steady them with Thy strength. My
mind is groping in the dark; illumine it with Thy light. My speech is
but the common talk of an ignorant _baba_; make it flow with Thy wisdom
and penetrate the hearts of my hearers. Do all this, not for the sake
of Thy humble Maria, but for the sake of Mother Russia, my unhappy
country.”
My eyes were red with inflammation when I arose in the morning. I was
nervous all day. Captain Dementiev suggested that I should commit my
speech to memory. I refused his suggestion with the remark:
“I have placed my trust in God and rely on Him to put the right words
into my mouth.”
It was the evening of May 21, 1917. I was driven to the Mariynski
Theatre and escorted by Captain Dementiev and his wife into the former
Imperial box. The house was packed, the receipts of the ticket office
amounting to thirty thousand roubles. Everybody seemed to be pointing
at me, and it was with great difficulty that I controlled my nerves.
Kerensky appeared and was given a tremendous reception. He spoke only
about ten minutes. Next on the programme was Madame Kerensky, and I
was to follow her. Madame Kerensky, however, broke down as soon as
she found herself confronted by the audience. That did not add to my
courage. I was led forward as if in a trance.
“Men and women citizens!” I heard my voice say. “Our mother is
perishing. Our mother is Russia. I want to help to save her. I want
women whose hearts are loyal, whose souls are pure, whose aims are
high. With such women setting an example of self-sacrifice, you men
will realize your duty in this grave hour!”
Then I stopped and could not proceed. Sobs choked the words in me,
tremors shook me, my legs grew weak. I was caught under the arm and led
away amid a thunderous outburst of applause.
Registration of volunteers for the Battalion from among those present
took place the same evening, there and then. So great was the
enthusiasm that fifteen hundred women applied for enlistment. It was
necessary to put quarters at my immediate disposal and it was decided
to let me have the building and grounds of the Kolomensk Women’s
Institute, and I directed the women to come there on the morrow, when
they would be examined and officially enlisted.
The newspapers contained accounts of the meeting and the publicity
which it gained helped to swell the number of women who volunteered to
join the Battalion of Death to two thousand. They were gathered in the
garden of the Institute, all in a state of jubilation. I arrived with
Staff-Captain Kuzmin, assistant to General Polovtzev, Captain Dementiev
and General Anosov, who was introduced to me as a man very interested
in my idea. He looked about fifty years of age and was of impressive
appearance. He wanted to help me, he explained. In addition, there was
about a score of journalists. I mounted a table in the centre of the
garden and addressed the women in the following manner:
“Women, do you know what I have called you here for? Do you realize
clearly the task lying ahead of you? Do you know what war is? War! Look
into your hearts, examine your souls and see if you can stand the great
test.
“At a time when our country is perishing it is the duty of all of us to
rise to its succour. The morale of our men has fallen low, and it is
for us women to serve as an inspiration to them. But only such women as
have entirely sacrificed their own personal interests and affairs can
do this.
“Woman is naturally light-hearted. But if she can purge herself for
sacrifice, then through a kindly word, a loving heart and an example of
heroism she can save the Motherland. We are physically weak, but if we
be strong morally and spiritually we shall accomplish more than a large
force.
“I will have no committees in the Battalion. There will be strict
discipline, and any offence will be severely punished. There will be
punishment for even slight acts of disobedience. No flirtations will
be allowed, and any attempts at them will be punished by expulsion
and sending home under arrest. It is the purpose of this Battalion to
restore discipline in the army. It must, therefore, be irreproachable
in character. Now, are you willing to enlist under such conditions?”
“Yes, we are! we are! we are!” the women responded in a chorus.
“I will now ask those of you who accept my terms to sign a pledge,
binding you to obey any order of Botchkareva. I warn you that I am
stern by nature, that I shall personally punish any misdemeanour, that
I shall demand absolute obedience. Those of you who hesitate had better
not sign the pledge. There will now be a medical examination.”
There were nearly two thousand signed pledges. They included names
of members of some of the most illustrious families in the country,
as well as those of common peasant girls and domestic servants. The
physical examination, conducted by ten doctors, some of whom were
women, was not ruled by the same standard as that in the case of the
men. There were, naturally, very few perfect specimens of health among
the women. But we rejected only those suffering from serious ailments.
Altogether there were about thirty rejections. Those accepted were
allowed to go home with instructions to return on the following day
when they would be quartered permanently in the Institute and begin
training.
It was necessary to obtain outfits, and I applied for these to
General Polovtzev, Commander of the Military District of Petrograd.
The same evening two thousand complete outfits were delivered at my
headquarters. I also asked General Polovtzev for twenty-five men
instructors, who should be well disciplined, able to maintain good
order and acquainted with every detail of military training, so as to
be able to complete the course of instruction in two weeks. He sent me
twenty-five officers of all grades from the Volynski Regiment.
Then there was the question of supplies. Were we to have our own
kitchen? It was found more expedient not to establish one of our own
but to make use of the kitchen of a guard regiment, stationed not far
from our quarters. The ration was that of regular troops, consisting
of two pounds of bread, cabbage soup, _kasha_ (gruel), sugar and tea.
I would send a company at a time, provided with pails, to fetch their
meals.
On the morning of May 26 all the recruits gathered in the grounds
of the Institute. I had them placed in rows, so as to arrange them
according to their height, and divided the whole body into two
battalions of approximately one thousand each. Each battalion was
divided into four companies, and each company subdivided into four
platoons. There was a man instructor in command of every platoon, and
in addition there was an officer in command of every company, so that
altogether I had to increase the number of men instructors to forty.
I addressed the women again, informing them that from the moment that
they entered upon their duties they were no longer women, but soldiers.
I told them that they would not be allowed to leave the grounds, and
that only between six and eight in the evening would they be permitted
to receive relatives and friends. From among the more intelligent
recruits--and there were many university graduates in the ranks--I
selected a number for promotion to platoon and company officers, their
duties being limited to the domestic supervision of the troop, since
the men commanders were purely instructors, returning to their barracks
at the end of the day’s work.
Next I marched the recruits to four barbers’ shops, where from five
in the morning to twelve at noon a number of barbers cut short the
hair of one woman after another. Crowds outside the shops watched this
unaccustomed proceeding, greeting with jeers each woman as she emerged,
with hair close cropped and perhaps with an aching heart, from the
barber’s saloon.
The same afternoon my soldiers received their first lessons in the
large garden. A recruit was detailed to stand guard at the gate and
not to admit anybody without the permission of the officer in charge.
The watch was changed every two hours. A high fence surrounded the
grounds, and the drilling went on without interference. Giggling was
strictly forbidden, and I kept a sharp watch over the women. I had
about thirty of them dismissed without ceremony the first day. Some
were expelled for too much laughing, others for frivolities. Several of
them threw themselves at my feet, begging for mercy. However, I made up
my mind that without severity I might just as well give up my project
at the beginning. If my word was to carry weight, it must be final and
unalterable, I decided. How could one otherwise expect to manage two
thousand women? As soon as one of them disobeyed an order I quickly
removed her uniform and sent her away. In this work it was quality and
not quantity that counted, and I determined if necessary to dismiss
without scruple several hundreds of the recruits.
We received five hundred rifles for training purposes, sufficient only
for a quarter of the force. This necessitated the elaboration of a
method whereby the supply of rifles could be made use of by the entire
body. It was thought well that the members of the Battalion of Death
should be distinguished by special insignia. We, therefore, devised new
epaulets: white, with a red and black stripe. A red and black arrowhead
was to be attached to the right arm. I ordered two thousand such
insignia.
When evening came and the hour for going to bed arrived, the women
ignored the order to turn in for the night at ten o’clock and continued
chatting and laughing. I reproved the officer in charge, threatening
to place her at attention for six hours in the event of the soldiers
keeping awake after ten. Fifty of the women I punished forthwith by
ordering them to remain at attention for two hours. To the rest I said:
“Every one of you to bed this instant! I want you to be so quiet that I
could hear a fly buzz. To-morrow you will be up at five o’clock.”
I spent a sleepless night. There were many things to think about and
many difficulties to overcome.
At five only the officer in charge was up. Not a soul stirred in the
barrack. The officer reported to me that she had twice ordered the
women to get up, but none of them moved. I came out and in a voice of
thunder ordered:
“Vstavai!”[3]
[3] Get up.
Frightened and sleepy, my recruits left their beds. As soon as they had
finished dressing and washing there was a summons to prayer. I made
praying a daily duty. Breakfast followed, consisting of tea and bread.
At eight I had issued an order that the companies should all be formed
into ranks ready for review in fifteen minutes. I came out, passed each
company, greeting it. The company would answer in a chorus:
“Good health to you, Commander.”
Training was resumed, and I continued the combing-out process. As
soon as I observed a girl making eyes at an instructor, behaving
frivolously, and generally neglecting her work, I quickly ordered
her to take off her uniform and go home. In this manner I weeded out
about fifty on the second day. I could not insist too strongly on the
burden of responsibility I carried. I constantly appealed to the women
for the utmost seriousness in facing the task that lay before us. The
Battalion must either be a success or I must become the laughing-stock
of the country, at the same time bringing disgrace upon those who
had supported my idea. I admitted no new applicants, because rapid
completion of the course of training so as to be able to dispatch the
Battalion to the front was of the greatest importance.
For several days the drilling went on, and the women mastered the
rudiments of a soldier’s training. On several occasions I resorted to
slapping as punishment for misbehaviour.
One day the sentry reported to the officer in charge that two women,
one a famous Englishwoman, wanted to see me. I ordered the Battalion to
remain at attention while I received the two callers, who were Emmeline
Pankhurst and Princess Kikuatova, the latter of whom I knew.
Mrs. Pankhurst was introduced to me, and I ordered the Battalion
to salute “the eminent visitor who had done much for women and her
country.” Mrs. Pankhurst became a frequent visitor of the Battalion,
watching it with deep interest as it grew into a well-disciplined
military unit. We became very much attached to each other. Mrs.
Pankhurst invited me to a dinner at the Astoria, the leading hotel in
Petrograd, at which Kerensky and the various Allied representatives in
the capital were to be present.
Meanwhile, the Battalion was making rapid progress. At first we
suffered little annoyance. The Bolshevik agitators did not take the
project seriously, expecting it to come to a speedy end. At the
beginning I received only about thirty threatening letters. Gradually,
however, it became known that I maintained the strictest discipline,
commanding without a committee; and the propagandists began to regard
me as a danger, and sought a means for the frustration of my scheme.
On the evening appointed for the dinner I went to the Astoria. There
Kerensky was very cordial to me. He told me that the Bolsheviks were
preparing a demonstration against the Provisional Government and
that at first the Petrograd garrison had consented to organize a
demonstration in favour of the Government. Later, however, the garrison
had decided not to march. The War Minister then asked me if I would
march with the Battalion in support of the Provisional Government.
I gladly accepted the invitation. Kerensky told me that the Women’s
Battalion had already exerted a beneficial influence, that several
bodies of troops had expressed a willingness to leave for the front,
that many of the wounded had organized themselves for the purpose of
going to the fighting line, declaring that if women could fight, then
they--the cripples--would do so, too. Finally he expressed his belief
that the announcement of the marching of the Battalion of Death would
stimulate the garrison to follow suit.
It was a pleasant evening that I spent at the Astoria. Upon leaving,
an acquaintance who was going in the same direction offered to drive me
to the Institute. I accepted the invitation, alighting, however, at a
little distance from headquarters, as I did not wish him to drive out
of his way. It was about eleven o’clock when I approached the temporary
barrack. There was a small crowd at the gate, about thirty-five men,
of all descriptions, soldiers, roughs, vagrants, and even some decent
looking fellows.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” I questioned sharply.
“Commander,” cried the sentry, “they are waiting for you. They have
been here more than an hour; they broke through the gate and have been
searching the grounds and the house for you. When they became convinced
that you were away they decided to wait here for your return.”
“Well, what do you want?” I demanded of the group as they surrounded me.
“What do we want, eh? We want you to disband the Battalion. We have had
enough of this discipline. Enough blood has been shed. We don’t want
any more armies and militarism. You are only creating new troubles for
the common people. Disband your Battalion and we will leave you alone.”
“I will not disband!” was my answer.
Several of them pulled out revolvers and threatened to kill me. The
sentry raised an alarm and all the women appeared at the windows, many
of them with their rifles ready.
“Listen,” a couple of them argued again, “you are of the people and we
only want the weal of the common man. We want peace, not war. And you
are inciting to war again. We have had enough war, too much war. We now
understand the uselessness of war. Surely you don’t like to see the
poor people slaughtered for the sake of the few rich. Come, join our
side, and let us all work for peace.”
“You are scoundrels!” I shouted with all my strength. “You are idiots!
I myself am for peace, but we shall never have peace till we have
driven the Germans out of Russia. They will make slaves of us and ruin
our country and our freedom. You are traitors!”
Suddenly I was kicked violently in the back. Some one dealt me a second
blow from the side.
“Fire!” I shouted to my girls at the windows as I was knocked down,
mindful that I had instructed them always to shoot in the air first as
a warning.
Several hundred rifles rang out in a volley. My assailants quickly
dispersed, and I was safe. However, they returned during the night and
stoned the windows, breaking every pane of glass fronting the street.