The Bolsheviks needed all the uniforms they could get, and this was such an inexpensive way of obtaining them.
Tears streamed down my cheeks all the time. The old General was near me.
“Don’t cry!” he urged me. “We will die together.”
Not all the prisoners were in our group. Those remaining kissed me farewell. The partings between the men were alone sufficient to rend one’s heart.
“Well, we shall follow you in an hour or two,” those who were left behind said bravely.
After I had taken off my boots, I removed the icon from my neck and fell before it on my knees.
“Why should I die such a death?” I cried. “For three years I have suffered for my country. Is this shameful end to be my reward? Have mercy, Holy Mother! If not for the sake of humble Maria, then for the sake of my destitute old mother and my aged father! Have mercy!”
Here I collapsed completely and became hysterical.
After a few moments an officer approached me, put his hand on my shoulder, and said:
“You are a Russian officer. We are dying for a righteous cause. Be strong and die as it befits an officer to die!”