“How dare you leave your barracks?” he thundered at me, “and frequent such places so late at night, I shall order you to the military prison for the night.” And he commanded me to report there immediately.
It was my first acquaintance with the military gaol. It is not a very comfortable place to spend a night in. In the morning I was called before the prison commandant, who questioned me sternly. Finally, I could contain myself no longer and broke out into laughter.
“It was all a mistake, your Excellency,” I said.
“A mistake, eh? What the devil do you mean, a mistake? I have a report here,” he cried out angrily.
“I am a woman, your Excellency,” I laughed.
“A woman!” he roared, opening his eyes wide, and surveying me. In an instant he recognized the truth of my words. “What the devil!” he muttered. “A woman indeed: A woman in a soldier’s uniform!”
“I am Maria Botchkareva, of the Fifth Regiment,” I explained. He had heard of me.
“But what were you, a woman, doing in that place?” he inquired.
“I am a soldier, your Excellency, and I went along with some of my comrades to investigate for myself the places where the soldiers pass their time.”
He telephoned to the Commander of my regiment to inquire into my record and told him where and why I was detained. A titter ran through the offices when they learned of Yashka’s adventure. The soldiers already knew from their comrades of the night’s escapade, and with great difficulty suppressed their merriment, not wanting to attract the attention of the officers. But now there was a general outburst of laughter. When I arrived it reached such a pitch that men were actually rolling on the floor, holding their sides. I was punished by two hours at attention, the third and last time during my training. For a week afterwards the regiment talked about nothing but Yashka’s adventure, nearly every soldier making a point of accosting me with the question: “Yashka, how did you like it there?”