XIV
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 cooperation. 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 counterattack 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 cauldron. 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 regime. 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 reestablished.
“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 role 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 regime, 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 regime. 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 muzhik 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. Today he allows Lenin to carry on his propaganda in the army without hindrance. Tomorrow 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 regime 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 muzhik 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 antechamber. 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:
“Bochkareva 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 anteroom. 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 reestablished, 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 someone 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 muzhik? 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.