Yashka · Part III · Chapter 13 (3/3)

“Magnificent!” he said enthusiastically at the conclusion of the test, congratulating me and shaking my hand, “I would not have believed it possible for men, let alone women, to master the training in four weeks so well. Why, we have had recruits here who had undergone three months’ drilling, and they could not compare with your girls.”

He then spoke a few words of praise to the women themselves, and my soldiers were immensely pleased. I proceeded with the General and his suite to Headquarters, where luncheon was awaiting us. He nearly kissed me when he learned that there were no committees in my Battalion, so genuine was his delight.

“Since the committees were instituted in the army, everything has changed,” he said. “I love the soldiers and they always loved me. But now all is changed. There is endless trouble. Every day, almost every hour, there come some impossible demands from the ranks. The front has lost almost all of its former strength. It is a farce, not war.”

We had not had time to begin the luncheon when a telegram arrived from Molodechno, notifying the Staff of Kerensky’s arrival there for luncheon and requesting the General’s and my attendance. Losing no time, the General ordered his car and we drove to Molodechno at top speed.

There were about twenty persons present at the luncheon at Army Headquarters. Kerensky sat at the head of the table. The Commander of my Corps was on my right and another General on the left. During the meal the conversation was about conditions at the front and the state of preparedness for a general offensive. I took practically no part in the discussion. At the end of the meal, when all arose, Kerensky walked up to the Commander of my Corps and delivered himself unexpectedly of the following peremptory speech:

“You must see to it that a committee is formed immediately in the Battalion of Death, and that she,” pointing at me, “ceases to punish the women!”

I was thunderstruck. All the officers in the room strained their ears. There was a tense moment. I felt my blood rush to my head like a flame. I was furious.

With two violent jerks I tore off my epaulets and threw them into the face of the War Minister.

“I refuse to serve under you!” I exclaimed. “Today you are one way, tomorrow, the opposite. You allowed me once to run the Battalion without a committee. I shall not form any committees! I am going home.”

I flung these words at Kerensky, who had turned very red, before anyone in the room had recovered from the shock, ran out of the house, threw myself into the Corps Commander’s motor and ordered his chauffeur to drive to Redki instantly.

A friend of the Chief of Staff, Kostiayev, told me later that there was a great commotion as soon as I left the room. Kerensky was furious at first.

“Shoot her!” he ordered in a fury.

“Minister,” said General Valuyev, the Commander of the Tenth Army, in my defence, “I have known Bochkareva for three years. She first tasted war as a member of my Corps. She suffered more than any other soldier at the front, because she suffered both as a woman and as a soldier. She was always the first to volunteer for any enterprise, thus serving as an example. She is a plain soldier and a word is a pledge to her. If she had been promised the command of the Battalion without the aid of a committee, she would never understand a violation of the pledge.”

The Commander of my Corps and other officers also spoke up for me. Finally some remembered that Kerensky had abolished capital punishment.

“Capital punishment has been abolished, Minister,” they said. “If Bochkareva is to be shot, then why not let us shoot some of those fifteen hundred deserters who are raising the devil here?”

Kerensky then abandoned the thought of shooting me, but insisted before departing from Molodechno that I should be tried and punished. The trial never took place.

The Corps Commander was very agitated when he discovered that I had disappeared with his car. He had to borrow one to get to Redki, and although pleased in his heart with my outburst he decided to give me a scolding and remind me of discipline. I was too excited and nervous to do anything when I returned from Molodechno, and so lay down in my barrack, trying to picture what would now become of the Battalion. I knew I had committed a serious breach of discipline and reproached myself for it.

I was called before the Commander late in the afternoon, and he reprimanded me for my unmilitary conduct. The General’s rebuff was severe. I acknowledged every point of it without argument, recognizing that my behaviour was unpardonable.

The hour for dinner came, and I went to Headquarters. The scene at the table was one of suppressed merriment. Everybody knew of what had happened at Molodechno. The officers winked knowingly and exchanged smiles. I was the hero of the secret rejoicing. Nobody dared to laugh out loud, for the General at the head of the table had assumed a grave expression, as if struggling not to sanction by an incautious smile the clandestine mirth of the Staff over my treatment of Kerensky. Finally the General could not preserve his gravity any longer and joined in the laughter. The restraint was removed.

“Bravo, Bochkareva!” one of the men exclaimed.

“That’s the way to treat him,” said another.

“As if there weren’t enough committees in the army, he wants still more!” spoke a third.

“He himself abolished capital punishment, and now he orders her to be shot!” laughed a fourth.

The officers were plainly hostile toward Kerensky. Why? Because they saw that Kerensky did not understand the temper of the Russian soldier. His flying excursions to the front perhaps left Kerensky and the world with the impression that the army was a living, powerful, intelligent organism. The officers who were with the soldiers day and night knew that the same crowd which had given an enthusiastic welcome to Kerensky an hour before would accord a similar reception to a Bolshevist or Anarchist agitator. Above all, it was Kerensky’s development of the committee system in the army that had undermined his reputation with officers.

After dinner I applied to the General for seven officers and twelve men instructors to accompany the Battalion to the trenches. One of the officers, a young Lieutenant named Leonid Grigorievitch Filippov, was recommended to me for the post of adjutant in battle. Filippov was known as a brave fellow, as he had escaped from a German prison camp. I addressed to the group of instructors a warning to the effect that if any of them were unable to consider my soldiers as men it would be better for them not to join the Battalion, and thus avoid unpleasantness in the future.

The Battalion was assigned to the 172nd Division, situated within four miles of Redki, in the village of Beloye. We were met by the units in reserve, who were drawn up to welcome us, with great enthusiasm.

It was a sunny day in midsummer. We spent little time at Division Headquarters. After lunching we resumed our march, having been further assigned to the 525th Kuriag-Daryiuski Regiment, about a mile from Beloye and a little over a mile from the fighting line. We arrived at Senki, the Regimental Headquarters, after sunset and were met by a “shock battalion,” formed of volunteer soldiers for offensive warfare. There were many such battalions scattered throughout the army, comprising in their ranks the best elements of the Russian forces.

Two barns were placed at the disposal of the Battalion and one dugout for the officers. Another dugout was occupied by the instructors and members of the supply detachment. However, as the men in the place began to manifest a certain amount of curiosity in regard to my women, I decided to sleep in one barn and let Tatuyeva take charge of the second. At night a crowd of soldiers surrounded the barns and would not let us sleep. They were inoffensive. They made no threats. They were simply curious, intensely curious.

“We merely want to see. It is something new,” they replied to the remonstrances of the sentinel: “babas in breeches! And soldiers, as well! Isn’t it extraordinary enough to attract attention?”

In the end I had to go out and talk with the soldiers. I sat down and argued it out. Didn’t they think it right for the women to want a rest after a day of marching? Yes, they did. Wouldn’t they admit that rest was necessary before taking the offensive? Yes, they would. Then why not suppress their curiosity and give the exhausted women a chance to gather new strength? The men agreed and dispersed.

The girls were in high spirits the following day. The Russian artillery had got to work early and poured a stream of fire into the enemy positions. Of course, that meant an offensive. The Commander of the Regiment came out to review us and made a cordial speech to the Battalion, calling me their mother and expressing his hope that the girls would love me as such. The firing increased in violence as the 6th of July, 1917, was drawing to a close. The German artillery did not remain silent long. Shells began to fall round about us.

The night was passed in the same barns at Semki. How many of the girls slept, I do not know. Certainly most of them must have been awed in the actual presence of War. The guns were booming incessantly, but my brave little soldiers, whatever they felt in their hearts, behaved with fortitude. Were not they going to lead in a general attack against the foe that would set the entire Russian front ablaze? Were not they sacrificing their lives for beloved Russia, who would surely remember with pride this gallant group of three hundred women? Death was dreadful. But a hundred times more dreadful was the ruin of Mother Russia. Besides, their Commander would lead them over the top, and with her they would go anywhere.

And what was the Commander thinking about? I had a vision. I saw millions of Russian soldiers rise in an invincible advance after I and my three hundred women had disappeared in No Man’s Land on the way to the German trenches. Surely, the men would be shamed at the sight of their sisters going into battle. Surely, the front would awake and rush forward like one man, to be followed by the powerful armies of the rear. No force on earth could withstand the irresistible onrush of fourteen million Russian soldiers. Then there would be peace.⁠ ⁠…