The next day we stopped at Riegitza, where the Czar wished to review some troops which had been withdrawn from the front and were billeted in the neighbourhood. All these regiments had taken part in the exhausting campaigns in Galicia and the Carpathians, and their establishment had been almost entirely renewed two or three times over. But in spite of the terrible losses they had suffered, they marched past the Czar with a proud and defiant bearing. Of course, they had been resting behind the line for several weeks, and had had time to recover from their weariness and privations. It was the first time that the Czar had passed any of his troops in review since he had taken over the Command. They now looked upon him both as their Emperor and Generalissimo. After the ceremony he mixed with the men and conversed personally with several of them, asking questions about the severe engagements in which they had taken part. Alexis Nicolaïevitch was at his father’s heels, listening intently to the stories of these men, who had so often stared death in the face. His features, which were always expressive, became quite strained in the effort not to lose a single word of what the men were saying. His presence at the Czar’s side greatly interested the soldiers, and when he had gone they were heard exchanging in a whisper their ideas about his age, size, looks, etc. But the point that made the greatest impression upon them was the fact that the Czarevitch was wearing the uniform of a private soldier, which had nothing to distinguish it from that of a boy in the service.
On October 16th we arrived at Mohileff, a little White Russian town of a highly provincial appearance to which the Grand-Duke Nicholas had transferred G.H.Q. during the great German offensive two months before. The Czar occupied the house of the Governor, which was situated on the summit of the steep left bank of the Dnieper. He was on the first floor in two fairly large rooms, one of which was his study and the other his bedroom. He had decided that his son should share his room. Alexis Nicolaïevitch’s camp-bed was accordingly placed next to his father’s. I myself and some members of the Czar’s military suite were lodged in the local court-house, which had been converted for use by G.H.Q.
Our time was spent much as follows. Every morning at half-past nine the Czar called on the General Staff. He usually stayed there until one o’clock, and I took advantage of his absence to work with Alexis Nicolaïevitch in his study, which we had been obliged to make our workroom owing to lack of space. We then took lunch in the main room of the Governor’s house. Every day there were some thirty guests, which included General Alexeieff, his principal assistants, the heads of all the military missions of the Allies, the suite, and a few officers who were passing through Mohileff. After lunch the Czar dealt with urgent business and then about three we went for a drive in a car.
When we had proceeded a certain distance from the town we stopped and went for a walk in the neighbourhood for an hour. One of our favourite haunts was the pretty pine-wood in the heart of which is the little village of Saltanovka, where the army of Marshal Davout met the troops of General Raievsky on July 29th, 1912.[39] On our return the Czar resumed work while Alexis Nicolaïevitch prepared the lessons for the next day in his father’s study. One day when I was there as usual the Czar turned towards me, pen in hand, and interrupted me in my reading to remark abruptly:
“If anyone had told me that I should one day sign a declaration of war on Bulgaria I should have called him a lunatic. Yet that day has come. But I am signing against my will, as I am certain that the Bulgarian people have been deceived by their king and the partisans of Austria, and that the majority remain friendly to Russia. Race feeling will soon revive and they will realise their mistake, but it will be too late then.”
The incident shows what a simple life we led at G.H.Q., and the intimacy which was the result of the extraordinary circumstances under which I was working.
As the Czar was anxious to visit the troops with the Czarevitch, we left for the front on October 24th. The next day we arrived at Berditcheff, where General Ivanoff, commanding the South-Western Front, joined our train. A few hours later we were at Rovno. It was in this town that General Brussiloff had established his headquarters, and we were to accompany him to the place where the troops had been assembled. We went by car, as we had more than twelve miles to cover. As we left the town a squadron of aeroplanes joined us and escorted us until we saw the long grey lines of the units massed behind a forest. A minute later we were among them. The Czar walked down the front of the troops with his son, and then each unit defiled in turn before him. He then had the officers and men on whom decorations were to be bestowed called out of the ranks and gave them the St. George’s Cross.
It was dark before the ceremony was over. On our return the Czar, having heard from General Ivanoff that there was a casualty station quite near, decided to visit it at once. We entered a dark forest and soon perceived a small building feebly lit by the red flames of torches. The Czar and Alexis Nicolaïevitch entered the house, and the Czar went up to all the wounded and questioned them in a kindly way. His unexpected arrival at so late an hour at a spot so close to the front was the cause of the general astonishment which could be read on every face. One private soldier, who had just been bandaged and put back in bed, gazed fixedly at the Czar, and when the latter bent over him he raised his only sound hand to touch his sovereign’s clothes and satisfy himself that it was really the Czar who stood before him and not a ghost. Close behind his father stood Alexis Nicolaïevitch, who was deeply moved by the groaning he heard and the suffering he felt all around him.
We rejoined our train and immediately left for the south. When we woke next morning we were in Galicia. During the night we had crossed the former Austrian frontier. The Czar was anxious to congratulate the troops, whose prodigies of valour had enabled them to remain on hostile soil notwithstanding the dearth of arms and ammunition. We left the railway at Bogdanovka and gradually mounted the plateau on which units from all the regiments of General Tcherbatcheff’s army had been assembled. When the review was over the Czar disregarded the objections of his suite and visited the Perchersky Regiment, three miles from the front lines, at a place which enemy artillery fire could have reached. We then returned to our cars, which we had left in a forest, and went to General Lechitzsky’s army, which was some thirty miles away. We were overtaken by darkness on our way back. A thick mist covered the countryside; we lost our way and twice had to go back. But after many wanderings we at length struck the railway again, though we were sixteen miles from the place where we had left our train! Two hours later we left for G.H.Q.
The Czar brought away a most encouraging impression from his tour of inspection. It was the first time that he had been in really close contact with the troops, and he was glad that he had been able to see with his own eyes, practically in the firing-line, the fine condition of the regiments and the splendid spirit with which they were inspired.