“We went to the Bolshevist offices and told them of our hunger, and they advised us to enlist in the Red Guard.”
“It is impossible to find work, all the factories are shut down or disorganized.”
These and similar sentiments were expressed on every side. Underlying them all was a greater hatred for the Germans than ever. There was no doubt in my mind that those men were ready to follow any trusted leader, with arms and food, against the Germans.
At Tcheliabinsk the train stopped for a couple of hours. There were two regiments stationed there, and there were several hundred soldiers on the express. A meeting was quickly organized quite near the station, within a short distance of the place where I had been thrown off the train some three months ago. But how different was the mood of the masses now! There were thousands at the meetings. A refugee addressed the crowd. He made a stirring, sarcastic speech.
“Every one of us,” he began, “has something at stake in Russia. We all want to defend our country. We have all made our sacrifices. For three years I fought in this war. Then I was set free to return home. But I found my home in the hands of the Germans. I could not return. I lost my parents, my wife, my sisters! What do I now get for all my sacrifices?
“Liberty! I came to Petrograd. For three days I went hungry. I was not alone. There were many other soldiers who suffered the same fate. They gave us no bread. What have we gained?
“Liberty!
“I went to see the chief of the Government in Petrograd. But I was not admitted to him. I was nearly beaten to death and thrown out of the building. Why?
“Liberty!
“The Germans are taking everything they can lay hands on, and at the same time the Red Guard is being strengthened in order to fight—whom, the Germans?—no, the so-called bourgeoisie! But are they not our own brethren, our own blood? In whose name are we urged to slaughter our own people while the Germans ravish our land?