At the end of the two days my Company joined me in the reserve. Strange things were occurring in our midst. In subdued voices the men repeated dark rumours about Rasputin’s death. Wild stories about his connections with the Court and Germany were communicated from mouth to mouth. The spirit of insubordination was growing among the soldiers, though at that time it was still kept within bounds. The men were weary, terribly weary of the war. “How long shall we continue this fighting?” and “What are we fighting for?” were on the lips of everybody. It was the fourth winter and still there was no end in sight.
Our men were genuinely anxious to solve the great puzzle that the war had become to them. Hadn’t it been proved again and again that the officers at Headquarters were selling them to the enemy? Hadn’t a multitude of reports reached them that the Court was pro-German? Hadn’t they heard of the War Minister placed under arrest and charged with being a traitor? Wasn’t it clear, therefore, that the Government, the official class, was in league with the enemy? Then, why continue this carnage indefinitely? If the Government was in alliance with Germany, what prevented it from concluding peace? Was it the desire to have millions more of them slaughtered?
This was the riddle that forced itself upon the peasant mind. It was complicated by a hundred other suggestions that were injected into his brain from various channels. Depressed in spirit, discouraged and sullen in appearance was the Russian soldier in February, 1917.
We returned to our positions and took up the heavy burden. It was not long before an attack was organized against the German line. Our artillery again displayed little effectiveness and again we climbed out of the trenches and swept across No Man’s Land while the enemy’s wire defences were intact. It was not the first wave of Russian breasts that had beaten itself in vain against that deadly barrier, to be hurled back with grave losses without even coming to grips with the foe. But each of those waves had left its drop of bitterness in the hearts of the survivors. And it was a particularly strong draught of bitterness that this last futile attack had left in the souls of the soldiers upon our sector.
Nevertheless, in February, 1917, the front was unprepared for the eruption that was soon to shake the world. The front maintained its fierce hatred for the Germans and could not conceive of a righteous peace save through the efficient organization of a gigantic offensive against the enemy. The obstacle in the way of such an offensive was the traitorous Government. Against this Government were directed the indignation and suppressed discontent of the rank and file. But so old, so stable, so deep-rooted was the institution of Tsarism that, with all their secret contempt for the Court, with all their secret hatred for the officials of the Government, the armies at the front were not ripe yet for a conscious and deliberate rising.
Part Three
REVOLUTION
CHAPTER X
THE REVOLUTION AT THE FRONT
The first warning of the approaching storm reached us through a soldier from our Company who had returned from leave at Petrograd.
“Oh, heaven!” he said. “If you but knew what is going on behind your backs! Revolution! Everywhere they talk of overthrowing the Tsar. The capital is flaming with revolution.”
These words spread like wildfire among the men. They gathered in knots and discussed the significance of the report. Would it mean peace? Would they get land and freedom? Or would it mean another huge offensive before the end of the war? The arguments, of course, took place in whispers, behind the backs of the officers. The consensus of opinion seemed to be that revolution meant preparation for a general attack against the Germans in order to win a victory before the conclusion of peace.