The Russian Turmoil; Memoirs: Military, Social, and Political

by Anton Ivanovich Denikin

“For there is no liberty in the Revolutionary torture-chamber.

“There is no righteousness in misrepresenting the voice of the people.

“There is no equality in the hounding down of classes.

“And there is no strength in that insane rout where all around seek to grasp all that they possibly can, at the expense of their suffering country, where thousands of greedy hands are stretched out towards power, breaking down the foundations of that country....”

Then the sessions of the Congress began. Whoever was present has carried away, probably for the rest of his life, an indelible impression produced by the story of the sufferings of the officers. It could never be written, as it was told with chilling restraint by these, Captain Bouravin and Lieutenant Albov, who touched upon their most intimate and painful experiences. They had suffered till they could suffer no more; in their hearts there were neither tears nor complaints.

I looked at the boxes, where the “younger comrades” sat who had been sent to watch for “counter-Revolution.” I wanted to read in their faces the impression produced by all that they had heard. And it seemed to me that I saw the blush of shame. Probably it only seemed so to me, for they soon made a stormy protest, demanded the right of voting at the Congress, and—five roubles per day “officer’s allowance.”

At thirteen general meetings the Congress passed a series of resolutions.

Among all the classes, castes, professions and trades which exhibited a general elemental desire to get from the weak Government all that was possible, in their own private interests, the officers were the only Corporation which never asked anything for itself personally.

The officers requested and demanded authority—over themselves and over the Army. A firm, single, national authority—“commanding, not appealing.” The authority of a Government leaning on the trust of the nation, not on irresponsible organisations. Such an authority the officers were prepared wholeheartedly and unreservedly to obey, quite irrespective of differences of political opinions. I affirm, moreover, that all the inner social class conflict which was blazing up more and more throughout the country did not affect the officers at the Front, who were immersed in their work and in their sorrows; it did not touch them deeply; the conflict attracted the attention of the officers only when its results obviously endangered the very existence of the country, and of the Army in particular. Of course, I am speaking of the mass of the officers; individual leanings towards reaction undoubtedly existed, but they were in no respect characteristic of the Officers’ Corps in 1917.

One of the finest representatives of the Officers’ Class, General Markov, a thoroughly educated man, wrote to Kerensky, condemning his system of slighting the Command: “Being a soldier by nature, birth and education, I can judge and speak only of my own military profession. All other reforms and alterations in the constitution of our country interest me only as an ordinary citizen. But I know the Army; I have devoted to it the best days of my life; I have paid for its successes with the blood of those who were near to me, and have myself come out of action steeped in blood.” This the Revolutionary Democracy had not understood or taken into consideration.