STORIES FROM EASTERN BATTLEFIELDS.
In this chapter I shall tell you some stories illustrating the fierce fighting which took place in the Eastern theatre of war during the first three months of the year 1915. I have already told you that Russian women frequently disguised themselves as men and fought with great heroism in the ranks. A Russian girl named Alexandra Lagereva was awarded a commission early in the year for fine soldierly conduct in the field. During one of the battles fought near Suwalki her detachment was surrounded by the Germans, and forced to surrender. Alexandra noticed, from the way in which her captors looked at her, that they had guessed her secret. Perhaps for this reason they did not go through her pockets, in which she carried a watch and a compass.
The prisoners were locked up in a church, and a sentry was placed at the door. At night, when all was quiet, Alexandra formed a plan of escape. A window was broken, and the girl crept through it. She stealthily approached the sentry, whom she felled with a stone. Then several of her comrades clambered out of the window, recovered their horses, and, along with her, made off. Soon, however, a force of eighteen Uhlans barred their way; but Alexandra and her comrades managed to capture them. When the German lieutenant learned that his eighteen men had been overpowered by a girl and six Russians, he tore his hair in rage. He was found to be carrying important papers, and these Alexandra took to the nearest Russian commander, whose report on her gallant conduct led to her promotion. She was described as of middle height, slender and graceful, and by no means of that masculine character which her deeds would lead one to suppose.
Mr. Washburn, who has already been mentioned in these pages, tells us that the Russian officer looks upon his men as his children, and that they call him "father." "It is a strange relation," he says, "that one sees between them. I recall seeing a grizzled old colonel marching his much-cut-up regiment past him on the plains of Poland after an action. As each company passed the old hero called out in his deep bass voice, 'I am pleased with you, my children; you have done well,' And each company replied in unison, 'Thank you, father; we are willing to do as much again.' And then they all marched back to the trenches and took up the burden of the campaign once more."
You have already heard much about the Cossacks, who used to be considered demons of cruelty, but are now known to be much like other Russians—easy-going, kindly, and good-natured. One of the Cossack regiments is described as being clad in baggy greatcoats of undressed sheepskin dyed a deep claret colour, while other regiments sport similar garments of a bright orange hue. All wear on their heads hairy busbies about the size of a bushel measure. Each man owns his horse, and grooms it until it looks like a racing thoroughbred. The Germans go in terror of the Cossacks. A story is told that when a German soldier was captured in Poland he looked uneasily about him. On being asked what worried him, he said, "The Cossacks." He then went on to say that he and his comrades believed that the Cossacks could not be trusted alone even by the Russians. They were, he said, brought to the front in huge vans, and when an action began the vans were turned towards the enemy, and the doors were thrown open, when out leaped the Cossacks, sword in hand, and dashed upon the foe. When the fight was over, so he told his captors, the Cossacks were rounded up and coaxed back into their cages, where they were kept in confinement until the next battle!
An American doctor who offered his services to Russia because "Russia stuck to us during the Civil War," tells us that though the Germans are better rifle shots than the Russians, they cannot compare with the Tsar's soldiers when it comes to the bayonet. "When these moujiks,"[25] said the doctor, "climb out of their trenches and begin to sing their national songs they just go crazy, and they aren't scared of anything; and believe me, when the Germans see them coming across the fields bellowing these songs of theirs, they just don't wait one minute, but dig right out across the landscape as fast as they can tear. I don't think there's a soldier in the world that has anything on the Russian private for bravery. They are a stubborn lot, too, and will sit in trenches in all weathers, and be just as cheerful under one condition as another. One big advantage over here, as I regard it, is the good relations between the soldiers and their officers."
Mr. Washburn tells us[26] how the colonel of a Russian battery "had a great laugh on the enemy. What happened was this. A German Taube flew over the line several times, and it kept coming back so frequently, and hovering over the battery, that the officers who were watching it became suspicious that they had been 'spotted.' When darkness fell the men of the battery became extremely busy, and by working like bees moved their guns perhaps 600 yards to the south, and by daylight had them in the new positions and fairly well masked. Shortly after sunrise back came the aeroplane, and when over the old position it gave a signal to its own lines and then flew back. Almost instantly shells fell fast and thick on the abandoned spot. Six hundred yards away the men of the battery watched the shells falling, and laughed their sides out at the way they had fooled the Germans. . . . From glancing at the field torn up with shell fire one begins to realize what observation means to the enemy. With modern methods a single signal from an aeroplane may mean the wiping out in a few minutes of an unsuspecting battery that has been safely hidden for months."