“What if I should go to America to ask there for help?” I ventured.
My companions all burst out laughing. America is so remote and so unreal to the Russian peasant. It did not sound like a practical proposition to the soldiers. But they raised only one objection.
“How would you ever get there? The Bolsheviks and Red Guards will never let you out of the country,” they said.
“But if I did get there and to the other Allies,” I insisted, “and came back with an army and equipment, would you join me then, and would you persuade all your friends to come with you?”
“Yes, we would! Yes! We know that you could not be bought. You are one of us!” they shouted.
“In that event, I will go to America!” I announced resolutely, there and then making up my mind to go. The soldiers would not believe me. When we reached Petrograd, and I parted from them affectionately, with their blessings following me, I did not forget to warn them to remember their pledge upon hearing of my return from foreign lands with troops.
I spent only a few hours in Petrograd and did not go to see General X. I got my war decorations from the woman friend with whom I had left them, and saw only a few of my acquaintances. I told all of them of the great change in the state of mind of the soldiers, and they were delighted.
“Thank God!” they exclaimed. “If the soldiers are waking up, then Russia will yet be saved.”
After dinner I took a train back to Moscow. As usual, soldiers formed the bulk of the passengers. I listened to their discussions attentively, although this time I took no part in them, as there were a few Bolsheviks among the men, and I did not wish to divulge my plans. I heard many curse Lenin and Trotzky, and all expressed their willingness to go to fight the Germans. One fellow asked:
“How could you fight them, without leaders and organization?”