“It is the Soviet, Kerensky and its other leading spirits, who have the decision in such matters,” he said. “They are shaping the policy of the country. I have urged them not to delay, but to order a general attack immediately.”
Chairman Orlov then presented me to Rodzianko with a little speech in which he recounted my record since the beginning of the war. The President of the Duma was greatly surprised and moved.
“I want to bend the knee to this woman,” he said, shaking my hand warmly. He then asked what was my feeling about conditions at the front. I gave vent to the bitterness that was in my heart.
“I can’t stand this new order of things. The soldiers don’t fight the Germans any more. My object in joining the army was to defend the country. Now, it is impossible to do so. There is nothing left for me, therefore, but to go away.”
“But where shall you go?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I suppose I shall go home. My father is old, and my mother is ailing, and they are almost reduced to begging for bread.”
Rodzianko patted me on the shoulder.
“Come to me in Petrograd, little heroine, and I will see what I can do for you.”
I joyfully accepted the invitation, and told my comrades that I should be leaving soon. I was provided with a new outfit and one hundred roubles by the Commander. The news spread that Yashka was going away and about a thousand soldiers, many of whose lives I had saved in battle, presented me with a testimonial.
A thousand signatures! They were all the names of dear comrades who were attached to me by ties of fire and blood. There was a record, on that long scroll, of every battle which we had fought and of every episode of life-saving and self-sacrifice in which I had taken part. It made my heart beat with joy and my eyes fill with tears, while deep in my soul something ached and yearned.