“Then there is nothing left but to disband your Battalion!” proclaimed General Polovtzev.
“This very minute if you wish!” I replied.
I drove to the Institute. Knowing that the women had been ordered to return I placed ten sentries armed with rifles at the gates with instructions not to allow any one to enter, and to shoot in case of trouble. Many of the rebels came but on being threatened with the rifles they retired. They went back to Polovtzev who, for the moment at least, could do nothing for them. He reported the matter to Kerensky with a recommendation that some action should be taken to control me.
I proceeded to reorganize my Battalion. There was only a remnant of three hundred left of it, but it was a loyal remnant, and I was not upset by the diminution in numbers. Most of the remaining women were peasants like myself, illiterate but very devoted to Mother Russia. All of them but one were under thirty-five years of age. The exception was Orlova, who was forty, but of an unusually powerful constitution. We resumed the drilling with greater zeal than ever.
A day or two later Kerensky’s adjutant telephoned. He wanted me to come to the Winter Palace to see the War Minister. The ante-chamber was again crowded with many people and I was greeted by several acquaintances. At the appointed time I was shown into Kerensky’s study.
Kerensky was pacing the room vigorously as I entered. His forehead was knit in a heavy frown.
“Good morning, Minister,” I greeted him.
“Good morning,” he answered coldly, without extending his hand.
“Are you a soldier?” he asked abruptly.
“Yes,” I replied.