Mme. Butchkareff is of peasant origin. Vera Butchkareff, or simply
Yashka, as she has been christened by the men of the regiment to which
she belonged, got much of her warlike spirit from her father, who
fought through the whole of the Turkish war and was left a cripple for
life. Her mother was a hard-working woman, with five children, of whom
Yashka was the eldest, and she had to go out washing and cooking to
earn enough to clothe and feed this flock.
At the age of five Yashka was sent out as nurse to a baby of three. And
from that time she has never stopped working. She looks none the worse
for it. Finely yet strongly built, with broad shoulders and healthy
complexion, she can lift 200 pounds with the greatest of ease. She has
never known what fear is.
Not long ago she remarked that during the last two years she had lived
through so much that there remained but one danger yet to experience,
that of flying. Just as she was saying that an aviator came up and
offered to take her for a flight, and before the day was out she had
exhausted her list of perils.
When she was sixteen years old her parents seized the first opportunity
of getting her married. She never knew the man, but luckily as time
wore on they grew very fond of each other, and were very happy. At
first they both served in a shop, and thanks to their perseverance and
frugality they were soon able to open a small shop of their own. But
just as they began to prosper the war broke out, and he was one of the
first to be called up.
She was very keen on accompanying him as a soldier, but he begged her
to stay behind and work for her parents, whom they had been keeping.
She was always ready for any daring venture, and it was with great
reluctance that she stayed at home in compliance with her husband's
wish. Time passed, and after long waiting she got the news that he had
been killed in action on May 28, 1915. At once she went to her parents,
and said: "I have decided to go to the front, and you will either hear
of my death or I shall return to you in honor and glory. I trust in
God." And no persuasions were of any use.
For two years she has lived in the trenches and fought like a man. She
has been wounded three times--in her arm, leg, and back. In the Lake
Naroch battles there was a time when all the officers were killed and
the men lost courage and lay down, too frightened to attack. Then she
rose up and dashed forward calling on them to follow her. Every one
obeyed her.
(Many are the tales that will be told of these women soldiers in the
"New Russia," but this is sufficient to prove that womanhood the world
over always rises to the emergency when home or country are in danger.)