AN ERRAND FROM KERENSKY TO KORNILOV
In the dusk of July the 7th we made our last preparations before going
into the trenches. The Battalion was provided with a detachment of
eight machine guns and a crew to man them. I was also furnished with a
wagonload of small ammunition.
I addressed my girls, telling them that the whole regiment would take
part in an offensive the coming night.
“Don’t be cowards! Don’t be traitors! Remember that you volunteered to
set an example to the laggards of the army. I know that you are of the
stuff to win glory. The country is watching for you to set an example
for the entire front. Place your trust in God, and He will help us save
the Motherland.”
To the men who were standing by I spoke of the necessity of
co-operation. As Kerensky had just completed a tour of this section,
the soldiers were still under the influence of his passionate appeals
to defend the country and freedom. The men responded to my call,
promising to join us in the coming attack.
Darkness settled over the earth, broken now and then by the flare of
explosions. This was to be the night of nights. The artillery roared
louder than ever as we stealthily entered a communication trench and
filed singly into the front line. The rest of the regiment was pouring
in the same direction through other communication trenches. There were
casualties during the operation. Some soldiers were killed, and many
were wounded, among the latter being several of my girls.
The order from General Valuyev, Commander of the Tenth Army, was for
our whole corps to go over the top at 3 a.m., July 8th. The Battalion
occupied a section of the front trench, flanked on both sides by
other companies. I was at the extreme right of the line held by
the Battalion. At the extreme left was Captain Petrov, one of the
instructors. My adjutant, Lieutenant Filippov, was in the centre of
the line. Between him and myself two officers were stationed among
the girls at equal distances. Between him and Captain Petrov another
two officers occupied similar positions. We waited for the signal to
advance.
The night was passed in great tension. As the hour fixed for the
beginning of the attack approached, strange reports reached me. The
officers were uneasy. They noted a certain restlessness among the men
and began to wonder if they would advance after all.
The hour struck three. The Colonel gave the signal. But the men on my
right and to the left of Captain Petrov would not move. They replied to
the Colonel’s order with questions and expressions of doubt as to the
wisdom of advancing. The cowards!
“Why should we die?” asked some.
“What’s the use of advancing?” remarked others.
“Perhaps it would be better not to attack,” expressed the hesitation of
many more.
“Yes, let us see first if an offensive is necessary,” debated the
remaining companies.
The Colonel, the Company Commanders and some of the braver soldiers
tried to persuade the regiment to go over the top. Meanwhile, day
was breaking. Time did not wait. The other regiments of the corps
were also hesitating. The men, raised to a high pitch of courage by
Kerensky’s oratory, lost heart when the advance became imminent. My
Battalion was kept in the trench by the cowardly behaviour of the men
on both flanks. It was an intolerable situation, unthinkable, grotesque.
The sun crept out in the East, only to shine down upon the
extraordinary spectacle of an entire corps debating upon their
Commander’s order to advance. It was four o’clock. The debate still
continued heatedly. The sun rose higher. The morning mist had almost
vanished. The artillery fire was slackening. Still the debate
continued. It was five o’clock. The Germans were wondering what in the
world had become of the expected Russian offensive. All the spirit
accumulated in the Battalion during the night was waning, giving way
under the physical strain which we were enduring. And the soldiers were
still discussing the advisability of attacking!
Every second was precious. “If they would only decide in the
affirmative, even now it might not be too late to strike,” I thought.
But minutes grew into hours, and there was no sign of a decision. It
struck six, and then seven. The day was lost. Perhaps all was lost.
One’s blood boiled with indignation at the absurdity, the futility of
the whole thing. The weak-kneed hypocrites! They feigned concern as to
the advisability on general principles of starting an offensive, as if
they hadn’t talked for weeks about it to their hearts’ content. They
were nothing but cowards, concealing their fear in floods of idle talk.
Orders were given to the artillery to continue the bombardment. All day
the cannon boomed while the men argued. The shame, the humiliation of
it! These very men had given their words of honour to attack! Now fear
for the safety of their skins had taken possession of their minds and
souls. The hour of noon still found them in the midst of the debate!
There were meetings and speeches in the immediate rear. Nothing more
stupid, more empty of meaning could be imagined than the arguments
of the men. They were repeating in stumbling speech those old, vague
phrases that had been proved false again and again, to the complete
satisfaction of their own minds. And yet they lingered, drawn by their
faint souls towards doubt and vacillation.
The day declined. The men had arrived at no final resolution. Then,
about seventy-five officers, led by Lieutenant-Colonel Ivanov, came
to me to ask permission to enter the ranks of the Battalion for a
joint advance. They were followed by about three hundred of the most
intelligent and gallant soldiers in the regiment. Altogether, the
Battalion’s ranks had swollen to about a thousand. I offered the
command to Lieutenant-Colonel Ivanov as to a superior, but he declined.
Every officer was provided with a rifle. The line was so arranged
that men and women alternated, a girl being flanked by two men. The
officers, now numbering about a hundred, were stationed at equal
distances throughout the line.
We decided to advance in order to shame the men, having arrived at
the conclusion that they would not let us perish in No Man’s Land. We
all felt the gravity of the decision. We had nothing to justify our
belief that the men would not abandon us to our fate, except a feeling
that such a monstrosity could not happen. Besides, something had to
be done. An offensive had to be launched soon. The front was rapidly
deteriorating to a state of impotence.
Colonel Ivanov communicated to the Commander by telephone the decision
of the Battalion. It was a desperate gamble, and every one of us
realized the grimness of the moment. The men on our flanks were joking
and deriding us.
“Ha, ha! The women and officers will fight!” they jeered.
“They are pretending. Who ever saw officers go over the top like
soldiers, with rifles in hand?”
“Just watch those women run!” joked a fellow, amid a chorus of
merriment.
We clenched our teeth in fury but did not reply. Our hope was still in
these men. We clung to the belief that they would follow us over the
top and, therefore, avoided giving them cause for offence.
At last the signal was given. We crossed ourselves and, hugging our
rifles, leaped out of the trenches, every one of our lives dedicated to
“the country and freedom.” We moved forward under a devastating fire
from machine guns and artillery, my brave girls, encouraged by the
presence of men at their sides, marching steadily against the hail of
bullets.
Every moment brought death with it. There was but one thought in every
mind: “Will they follow?” Each fleeting instant seemed like an age that
lurid morning. Already several of us were struck down, and yet no one
came after us. We turned our heads every now and then, piercing the
darkness in vain for support. Many heads were raised above the trenches
in our rear. The laggards were wondering if we were in earnest. No,
they decided that it was all a trick. How could a bare thousand women
and officers attack after a two-days’ bombardment on a front of several
miles? It seemed incredible, impossible.
But, dauntless of heart and firm of step, we moved forward. Our losses
were increasing, but our line was unbroken. As we advanced further
and further into No Man’s Land, the shadows finally swallowing us
completely, with only the fire of explosions revealing our figures at
times to the eyes of our men in the rear, their hearts were touched.
Through the din and crash of the bombardment we suddenly caught the
sound of a great commotion in the rear. Was it a feeling of shame that
stirred them from their lethargy? Or was it the sight of this handful
of intrepid souls that aroused their spirit? Anyhow, they were roused
at last. Numbers had already climbed over the top and were running
forward with shouts, and in a few moments the front to the right and
left of us became a swaying mass of soldiers. First our regiment poured
out and then, on both sides, the contagion spread and unit after unit
joined in the advance, so that the entire corps was on the move.
We swept forward and overwhelmed the first German line, and then the
second. Our regiment alone captured two thousand prisoners. But there
was poison awaiting us in that second line of trenches. Vodka and beer
were in abundance. Half of our force got drunk forthwith, throwing
themselves ravenously on the alcohol. My girls did splendid work here,
destroying the stores of liquor at my orders. But for that, the whole
regiment would have been drunk. I rushed about appealing to the men to
stop drinking.
“Are you mad?” I pleaded. “We must take the third line yet, and then
the Ninth Corps will come to relieve us and keep up the push.”
I realized that the opportunity was too precious to be lost. “We must
take the third line and make a breach in their defences,” I thought,
“so as to turn this blow into a general offensive.”
But the men were succumbing one by one to the terrible curse. And
there were the wounded to be taken care of. Some of my girls were
killed outright, many were wounded. The latter almost all behaved
like Stoics. I can see, even now, the face of Klipatskaya, one of my
soldiers, lying in a pool of blood. I ran up to her and tried to help
her, but it was too late. She had twelve wounds, from bullets and
shrapnel. Smiling faintly her last smile, she said:
“My dear, it’s no matter.”
The Germans organized a counter-attack at this moment. It was a
critical time, but we met the shock of the attack with our bayonets.
As usual in such cases, the enemy turned and fled. We pursued them and
swept them out of their third line, driving them into the woods ahead
of us.
We had hardly occupied the enemy’s third line when orders came by
field telephone from the Commander to keep up the pursuit so as not
to allow the Germans to entrench themselves, with a promise that the
supporting corps would start out immediately. We cautiously sent some
patrols into the woods to find out the strength of the enemy. I led one
such scouting party, and was able to detect that the German force was
being slowly but steadily augmented. It was then decided that we should
immediately advance into the forest and occupy positions there till
reinforcements arrived enabling us to resume the advance.
It was early dawn. The Germans being in the thick of the woods had the
advantage of observing every movement we made, while we could not see
them at all. We were met by such a violent and effective fire that our
soldiers lost heart and took to their heels by the hundred, reducing
our force to about eight hundred, two hundred and fifty of whom were
those of my girls who had escaped death or injury.
Our situation rapidly became critical. The line running through the
forest was long. Our numerical strength was wholly inadequate for
it. Our flanks were unprotected. Our ammunition was running low.
Fortunately, we turned on the enemy several of his own abandoned
machine guns. We stripped the dead of rifles and bullets. And we
reported to the Commander that we had been deserted under fire by the
men and were in imminent danger of capture. The Commander begged us to
hold out till three o’clock when the Ninth Corps would come up to our
succour.
Had the Germans had any idea of the size of our force we should not
have remained there more than a few minutes. We dreaded every moment
that we should be outflanked and surrounded. Our line was stretched
out so that each soldier held a considerable number of feet, our force
altogether covering a distance of two miles. The Germans organized an
attack on the left flank. Aid was despatched from the right flank,
which was left almost without machine guns, and the attack was
repulsed. In this engagement Lieutenant-Colonel Ivanov was wounded.
There were many other wounded officers and men lying about. We could
not spare the hands necessary to carry them to the first-aid dressing
stations far away in our rear.
Three o’clock came, and the expected reinforcements were not yet in
sight. The Germans made an attack on the right flank. My adjutant,
Lieutenant Filippov, was now commanding there. As our line was curved,
he ordered the machine guns on the left flank to direct a slanting fire
at the advancing enemy. At the same time our artillery was instructed
to let down a barrage in the same section, and the attack was repulsed.
At my request the Commander sent out about a hundred stretcher-bearers
to collect the dead and wounded scattered between our former line and
the captured German third line. About fifty of my girls were dead and
more than a hundred wounded.
Meanwhile the sun had risen and time was passing. Our condition grew
desperate. We sent an urgent appeal for help to Headquarters. From the
other end of the wire came the appalling answer:
“The Ninth Corps has been holding a meeting. It arrived from the
reserve billets and went forward till it came to the trenches we had
held before the attack. There it stopped, wavered, and began to debate
whether to advance or not.”
We were struck by the news as if by some terrific blow. It was
crushing, unimaginable, unbelievable.
Here we were, a few hundred women, officers, men--all on the brink of
a precipice, in imminent danger of being surrounded and wiped out of
existence. And there, within a mile or two, were they, thousands of
them, with the fate of our lives, the fate of this whole movement,
nay, the fate, perhaps, of all Russia, in their hands. And they were
debating!
Where was justice? Where was brotherhood? Where was manhood and decency?
“How can you leave your comrades and those brave women to certain
destruction?” the Commander appealed to them. “Where is your sense of
honour and justice and comradeship?”
The officers begged and implored their men to go forward as our calls
for help grew more and more insistent. There was no response. The men
said they would defend their positions in case of a German attack, but
would not take part in any offensive.
It was in these desperate circumstances, as I was rushing about from
position to position, exposing myself to bullets in the hope that
I might be struck dead rather than see the collapse of the whole
enterprise, that I came across a couple hiding behind a trunk of a
tree. One of the pair was a girl belonging to the Battalion, the other
a soldier. They were making love!
This was even more overpowering than the deliberations of the Ninth
Corps, which were sentencing us to annihilation. I was almost out of
my senses. My mind failed to grasp that such a thing could be really
happening at a moment when we were trapped like rats at the enemy’s
mercy. My heart turned into a raging caldron. In an instant I flung
myself upon the couple.
I ran my bayonet through the girl. The man took to his heels before I
could strike him, and escaped.
There being no immediate prospect of a conclusion of the debate in the
Ninth Corps, the Commander ordered us to save ourselves by retreat.
The difficulty was to extricate ourselves without being detected by
the Germans. I ordered first one group to go back some distance and
stop, and then another and then a third group to do the same till we
reached almost the fringe of the forest. It was a slow and perilous
undertaking, full of anxious moments during the shiftings of the line,
but everything went smoothly and our hopes were raised.
Our line was drawn in, and we were preparing for the final retreat when
terrific shouts of “Hurrah!” suddenly rang out, almost simultaneously,
on both flanks. We were half surrounded! Another quarter of an hour and
the net would have completely surrounded us. There was no time to lose.
I ordered a helter-skelter retreat.
The German artillery increased in violence, and the enemy’s rifles
played havoc with us from both sides. I ran for all I was worth several
hundred feet, till knocked unconscious by the terrific concussion of
a shell that landed near me. My adjutant, Lieutenant Filippov, saw
me fall, picked me up and dashed through the devastating fire, the
German trench system, the open space that was No Man’s Land before the
offensive, and into the Russian trenches.
There the Ninth Corps was still debating. But it was already too late.
As the breathless survivors of the Battalion, bespattered with mud and
blood, made their way one by one into our trenches, it became obvious
that there was no use in any further deliberations. The offensive had
been all to no purpose. The Germans re-occupied, without opposition,
all the ground and trenches we had won at such terrible cost. There
were only two hundred women left in the ranks of my Battalion.
I regained consciousness at a hospital in the rear. I was suffering
from shell-shock. My hearing was affected and, while I could understand
what was said to me, I was unable to talk. I was sent to Petrograd and
was met at the station by a distinguished gathering, including many of
my patronesses and some distinguished army officers. Kerensky sent his
adjutant. General Vasilkovsky, successor to Polovtzev as Commander of
the Petrograd Military District, was also present. I was deluged with
flowers and kisses. But to all the congratulations I could make not a
sound in reply, lying motionless on the stretcher.
I was taken to a hospital and given a large, beautiful room. Kerensky
came to see me, kissed me on the forehead, and presented me with a
handsome bouquet. He made a little speech, apologizing for the trouble
he had given me in the controversy about introducing the committee
system in the Battalion, praising me for my bravery, and declaring that
I had set a wonderful example to the men all over the front. He invited
me to call on him as soon as I got well.
President Rodzianko visited me the following day. He was very depressed
and pessimistic over the condition of the country.
“Russia is perishing,” he said, “and there is no salvation in prospect
for her. Kerensky relies too much on his own power, and is blind to
what is going on around him. General Kornilov requested that Kerensky
should grant him the necessary authority to restore discipline in the
army, but Kerensky refused, saying that he was able to accomplish it
himself in his own fashion.”
While I was in the hospital a delegate from the front brought me a
testimonial from my Corps Committee! It appeared that two days after I
was wounded the Committee, which usually comprised the more intelligent
soldiers, met in session and discussed all night how they could best
reward my conduct. A resolution was passed in which praise and thanks
were expressed to me for brave leadership in an attack which resulted
in the capture of two thousand prisoners. The testimonial was a record
of the resolution, signed by the members of the Corps Committee.
Later, the men would have done anything to revoke their signatures, as
they deeply regretted this tribute to me, an implacable enemy of the
Germans, from the entire corps, which was infected even then with the
Bolshevist spirit.
I learned that Lieutenant Filippov had taken charge of the Battalion,
gathering the survivors from all the units with which they identified
themselves during and after the retreat. However, he did not remain
with the Battalion, resigning in order to join an aviation detachment
in the south, after he had organized the remnant of my unit. It was
also reported to me that the Commander of the Corps had recommended me
for a cross.
Another week passed before I recovered my speech and my normal
condition, although the effects of the shock did not disappear
completely for some weeks. A woman friend of mine told me that Kornilov
was expected to arrive in Petrograd the next day, and that his
relations with Kerensky were strained, on account of their different
views as to the restoration of discipline at the front. I telephoned to
the Winter Palace for an appointment, and the War Minister’s adjutant
reported my request to Kerensky, who said that he could receive me
immediately, even sending his car for me.
Kerensky welcomed me heartily, expressing his gladness at my recovery.
He asked me what was the reason why the soldiers would not fight. In
reply I told him in detail the story of my fruitless offensive, how
the men had called meetings and debated for hours and days whether to
advance or not. I told only the facts, as narrated above, and Kerensky
was deeply impressed. In conclusion I said:
“You can see for yourself that the committees stand for talk, endless
talk. An army that talks is not a fighting army. In order to save the
front it is necessary to abolish the committees and introduce strict
discipline. General Kornilov seems to be the man to accomplish this.
I believe he can do it. All is not yet lost. With an iron hand the
Russian Army can be restored. Kornilov has such a hand. Why not give
him the right to use it?”
Kerensky agreed with me generally. “But,” he said, “Kornilov wants to
restore the old régime. He may take the power into his own hands and
put back the Tsar on the throne.”
This I could not believe, and I said so to Kerensky. He replied
that he had grounds for believing that Kornilov wanted the monarchy
re-established.
“If you are not convinced,” Kerensky continued, “go over to General
Headquarters, have a talk with Kornilov, find out all you can about his
intentions, and come back to report to me.”
I realized immediately that Kerensky was asking me to act for him in
the rôle of a secret agent, but I was interested. The thought occurred
to me again and again:
“What if Kerensky is right, and Kornilov really wants the Tsar back?”
My country was in a bad state, but I dreaded to think of a return of
Tsarism. If Kornilov was for the old régime, then he was an enemy of
the people, and Kerensky was right in hesitating to invest the General
with supreme authority. I therefore accepted his proposal.
I was, however, uneasy at the thought of the errand I had undertaken
and resolved to go to Rodzianko, whom I look upon as my best friend,
and make a clean breast of it. When I told him of my conversation with
Kerensky he said:
“This is Kerensky’s old game--suspecting everybody of being for
the old régime. I don’t believe it of Kornilov. He is an honest,
straightforward man. Still, if you feel in doubt about it yourself,
come, let us go over together to Headquarters. Do not go as a spy, but
tell Kornilov the truth to his face.”
We took a train for General Headquarters and were admitted to Kornilov
soon after our arrival. I told him frankly what had passed between
Kerensky and myself a couple of days before. Kornilov reddened. He
jumped up and began to pace the room in a rage.
“The scoundrel! The upstart! I swear by the honour of an old soldier
that I do not want Tsarism restored. I love the Russian moujik as much
as any man in the country. We have fought together and understand
one another. If I were only given authority, I would soon restore
discipline by punishing, if necessary, a few regiments. I could
organize an offensive in a few weeks, beat the Germans and have peace
this year even now. He is driving the country to perdition, the rascal!”
Kornilov’s words were like sword-thrusts. There was no question but
that the man spoke from the depth of his soul. His agitation was real
beyond a doubt. He continued to walk the room fiercely, talking of the
certain collapse of the front if measures were not taken without delay.
“The idiot! He cannot see that his days are numbered. Bolshevism is
spreading rapidly in the army, and it will not be long before the tide
swamps him. To-day he allows Lenin to carry on his propaganda in the
army without hindrance. To-morrow Lenin will have got the upper hand,
and everything will be wrecked.”
We left Kornilov, and I had to decide whether to make a report to
Kerensky or not. I must confess to a feeling of shame when I thought
of how I had carried out the errand. I therefore asked Rodzianko to
tell Kerensky of Kornilov’s attitude toward Tsarism and I boarded a
train for Moscow, where I had been invited to review the local Women’s
Battalion, organized in imitation of mine. There were many such
battalions formed all over Russia.
When I arrived at the barracks and was taken before the fifteen hundred
girls who had enlisted in the Moscow unit, I nearly fainted at the
sight of them. They were nearly all rouged, they were wearing slippers
and fancy stockings, they were wantonly dressed and very casual in
their bearing. There were a good many soldiers about, and their
behaviour with the girls was revolting.
“What is this, a house of shame?” I cried out in my grief. “You are a
disgrace to the army! I would have you disbanded at once, and I shall
do my best to see that you are not sent to the front!”
A storm of protest broke loose.
“What is all this, the old régime or what?” shouted some indignant
voices.
“What’s that? Discipline? How dare she talk in that fashion?” cried
others.
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 moujik 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 ante-chamber. 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:
“Botchkareva 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 ante-room. 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 re-established, 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 country from an immense
disaster.
Kerensky replied that Kornilov’s suggestions were impracticable, that
all that could be done was for the officers to submit the various
complications arising at the front to the Regimental, Corps and Army
Committees for solution. Kornilov retorted that the committees had
already, again and again, been confronted with such problems, had
them investigated and confirmed, passed resolutions of censure and
obtained pledges from the men that they would not repeat the offences,
but like weak children the soldiers would immediately resume drinking
and fraternizing. Only rigid discipline, he insisted, could make the
Russian Army a force to be reckoned with.
However, Kerensky was obstinate. He would not consent to put Kornilov’s
recommendation into practice. A deadlock was reached which aroused
Kornilov’s temper. He blurted out:
“You are driving the country to destruction. You know that the Allies
already regard us with contempt. Should our front collapse they would
consider Russia a traitor. You are under the delusion that the rank and
file still believe in you. But almost all of them are Bolsheviks now.
Only a little while, and you will find yourself overthrown, and your
name will go down in history as the destroyer of the country. All your
life you fought Tsarism. Now you are even worse than the Tsar was. Here
you sit in the Winter Palace, unwilling to leave, too jealous to hand
over the power to some one else. Although I knew the Tsar well, your
distrust of me and belief that I am in favour of Tsarism now is utterly
unfounded. How can I be in favour of a Tsar when I love my country and
the moujik? My whole aspiration is to build up a strong democratic
nation, by means of a Constituent Assembly and a chosen leader. I want
Russia to be powerful and progressive. Give me a free hand in the army
and our Motherland will be saved.”
Kerensky heatedly rejected Kornilov’s request.
“You will have to resign,” he exclaimed, “and I will appoint Alexeiev
in your place, and use force against you in the event of your failure
to obey me!”
“Scoundrel!” exclaimed Kornilov, and he left Kerensky’s study.
During lunch Kornilov told Rodzianko that if Kerensky carried out his
threat he would lead the Savage Division, consisting of tribesmen
loyal to him, against Kerensky. Rodzianko pleaded against such action,
begging Kornilov not to war against the Government, as that would
divide the country into several factions and lead to civil war. After
a long, private conversation Kornilov was induced by the President of
the Duma to stick to his post as Commander-in-Chief for the sake of the
peace of the nation.
At the table I also learned that General Alexeiev had more than once
been offered the Chief Command, but had declined to take it unless he
had authority to exercise a free hand. It also appeared that Kerensky
was growing more and more autocratic and irritable, and was reluctant
to see people and accept advice.
I parted from Rodzianko and Kornilov. The latter kissed me and pledged
his friendship to me for my efforts to maintain discipline. I returned
to the front, while they went to Moscow to attend the Assembly.
My heart was heavy with sorrow. It was five months since freedom was
born, only five months. But what a nightmare it had become! We were at
war, but playing with the enemy. We were free, but disorder was on the
increase. Our best men were happy and united five months ago. Now, they
were divided and quarrelling among themselves. The people were divided,
too. When the revolution first broke all had rejoiced together, the
soldier, the townsman, the peasant, the workman, the merchant. All
were glad. All hoped for good and happiness. Now, there had sprung up
a number of parties that were setting one group of the people against
the other. Each of them claimed to have the truth. All of them promised
a blissful era, but what was good to one was evil to the other. They
talked, argued, fought among themselves. And the minds of the people
grew confused and their hearts divided. In the face of such a terrible
foe as the Germans, how long could a disunited country endure? I prayed
to God for Russia.