Grandmother, too, was clever at hand work. She could repair her own exquisite handkerchiefs so perfectly one would never know they had been mended. Grandmother could knit well, too; during the war she made fine woolen gloves for the soldiers and sent some to Father. Marie and I concentrated on socks, gloves, and caps, and received our war news while we were knitting in the evening. War and our mutual problems became the greatest teachers of responsibility. When I became the honorary chief of a regiment, the 148th Caspian Infantry, the monthly reports I received of my regiment brought to me news of the losses in dead and wounded. These reports were frightening and I ran to Olga to find what could be done to ease the situation. She said; “Hundreds of wounded are coming every day and it is horrible the way they suffer.” I heard that the German losses were even greater.
Once again I wanted to be a doctor when I grew up. Soon after this, Mother allowed Marie and me to visit our own hospital more often. As we entered the building they were carrying a wounded man with bloody bandages. He was taken directly to the operating room; a moment later they carried him right out again. The doctors had found he was already dead when he was brought to the operating room. I had a dizzy spell. I was ill. No, I never could be a doctor. The sight of that poor boy could never be erased from my mind. For weeks I could smell blood. Red became a haunting color with its reminder of the horror of that picture. Even red medicine made me ill all over again.
Day after day Olga and Tatiana worked beside Mother at the hospital. They got up at seven, attended lectures, and then again resumed their hospital work. In the evening, they read while knitting. I could not understand how they endured it all. It was comforting, however, to learn that Olga, like me, could not bear to see suffering. Tatiana was like Mother in her ability to see beyond the suffering to the relief she was able to give. Doctors were scarce, and Mother assisted in many operations. Each day before going to the hospital she stopped at the Znamensky Sobor, the little church she had restored, to pray that her hands might be blessed with the power to do things right. She felt so obligated to each wounded soldier, she wanted to nurse him with her own hands to relieve his suffering. At the sight of each new patient she prayed anew for the war to end. She spent all day at the hospital and came home exhausted and would lie on her sofa for a short rest.
With tragedy on all sides Father ordered strict economy. Every possible kopeck must be saved to benefit the soldiers. Mother reduced our staff of servants. Our meals became simpler. Father insisted that the Court, without exception, must observe all the restrictions. These economies were not too difficult for us children, since we had not been brought up to expect extravagant luxuries. Mother had always preached to us against wastefulness, and against idleness. These ideals were now more necessary. We accepted whatever we received with appreciation. We had very few dresses. I wore the ones handed down from my sisters. Being much smaller than they, the fit was not perfect and required alterations. A few tucks here and there made me happy in them. When we did get a new dress we were so careful with it that we could hardly bear to sit down. Each of us had definite duties to perform.
Olga and Tatiana continued their studies and carried on with their hospital work and also made out schedules for us younger sisters for the next day. In addition they checked supplies for the hospitals, attended meetings for charitable organizations, and supervised the raising of money through concerts and plays. Many of the leading artists donated their services and large sums were raised for the expanding hospitals and other charities. Our friend Madame Plevitskaya proved most helpful by generously donating her time and her talent to the war effort. Mother eagerly awaited reports showing the financial account of these benefits.
Marie and I selected gramophone records to be sent to the convalescent wards, also books which the soldiers might like to read. We ordered fruit, candies, cakes, games, stationery, soap and pencils. Box after box was taken to the hospitals. Sometimes we played dominoes with the men, or watched those who could play croquet, or wrote letters to their families.
Our playrooms were now deserted. Alexei’s electric automobile had been stored under the slide. His special duties kept him occupied, as did his class work. When he did go for a ride, with a friend or with one of his cousins, he made it appear as if they were engaged in an important war project.
With the beginning of war most gaiety ceased. Benefits became the social functions; anyone not helping was out of fashion. Everyone worked together to make each benefit a successful affair. To raise money, photographs of the Imperial family were sold. There were name days set aside when one member of the family was played up throughout Russia; the newspapers helped in the competition. It was exciting to see whose photographs sold best. Tatiana proved a great favorite with the people.
Many relatives and friends turned their homes into hospitals, often paying the expenses themselves. In addition, they devoted all their time to the wounded. Some had as many as seventy patients in their residences. Olga designed an attractive calendar, each page gave the historical event of that day. It became a favorite and was ordered by the thousand. Aunt Olga, Father’s sister, made drawings and paintings which brought large sums to charities. Moreover there were outright gifts in large amounts. A banker named Yaroshinsky donated over a quarter of a million rubles. Yaroshinsky was assistant manager of Mother’s own hospital train. He reappears later in my memories of Tobolsk and Ekaterinburg.
In 1915, before Father took over the Supreme Command of the Russian Armies in the Field, there were occasional officers’ balls. Father and Mother attended these affairs but stayed only long enough to show their interest in them, always having in mind that it might be their last gaiety. Marie and I were too young to attend any of these functions at this time, but Olga and Tatiana went. When they were dressed to leave they came to show themselves to Marie and me that we might have a little touch of festivity. Their joy in being gowned in evening clothes instead of the customary nurse’s uniform made them radiantly happy.