“Who are they?” I asked.
“They are a group led by one Lenin, who has just returned from abroad by way of Germany, and Trotzky, Kolontai and other political exiles. They attend the meetings of the Soviet at the Taurida Palace, in which the Duma meets, stir up class-bitterness and demand immediate peace.”
I was further asked how Kerensky then stood with the soldiers, being informed that he had just left for a tour of the front.
“Kerensky is very popular. In fact, the most popular man with the men at the front. The men will do anything for him,” I replied.
Rodzianko then related an incident which made us all laugh. There was an old porter in the Government offices who had served many Ministers of the Tsar. Kerensky, it appeared, made it a habit to shake hands with everybody. So that whenever he entered his office he shook hands with the old porter, thus quickly becoming the laughing-stock of the servants.
“Now, what kind of a Minister is it,” the old porter was overheard complaining to a fellow-servant, “who shakes hands with me?”
After dinner Rodzianko took me to the Taurida Palace, where he introduced me to a gathering of soldiers’ delegates, then in session. I was warmly welcomed and given a prominent seat. The speakers gave descriptions of conditions at various sections of the front that tallied exactly with my own observations. Discipline was gone, fraternization was on the increase, the agitation to leave the trenches was gaining strength. Something must be done quickly, they argued. How could the men be kept up to the mark till the moment when an offensive should be ordered? That was the problem.
Rodzianko arose and proposed that I should be asked to suggest a solution. He told them that I was a peasant who had volunteered early in the war and fought and suffered with the men. Therefore, he thought, I ought to know what was the right thing to do. Naturally, I was very much embarrassed. I was totally unprepared to make any suggestions and, therefore, begged to be excused until I had thought the matter over.
The session continued, while I sank deep into thought. For half an hour I racked my brain in vain. Then suddenly an idea dawned upon me. It was the idea of a Women’s Battalion of Death.
“You have heard of what I have done and endured as a soldier,” I said, rising to my feet and turning to the audience. “Now, how would it do to organize three hundred women like myself to serve as an example to the army and lead the men into battle?”