B 
 
 
 CoffyiiglitS^^ 
 
 CiJRflRIGtIT DEPOSIT. 
 
THE SLAVIC TRANSLATIONS 
 BY LEO WIENER 
 
 IN THE WAR 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 V'VERESAeV 
 
IN THE WAR 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 V ' VERES AEV|iiii^ 
 
 «l 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 LEO WIENER 
 
 PROFESSOR OF SLAVIC LANGUAGES AND 
 
 LITERATURES AT HARVARD 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 ® 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 MITCHELL KENNERLEY 
 
 I917 
 
COPYRIGHT I917 BY 
 MITCHELL KENNERLEY 
 
 Pi 
 
 APR 23 1917 
 
 PRINTED IN AMERICA 
 
 'Ci,A462070 
 
K 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAFFEB PAGB 
 
 FOREWORD ' Vii 
 
 I AT HOME 1 
 
 II ON THE WAY 23 
 
 III IN MUKDEN 65 
 
 IV THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 89 
 V THE GREAT STAND: OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 131 
 
 VI THE GREAT STAND : DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 189 
 
 VII THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 232 
 
 VIII ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 267 
 
 IX WANDERING 300 
 
 X IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 329 
 
 XI PEACE 354 
 
 XII HOME AGAIN 378 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 Byelinski recognized in Gogol the founder of the 
 Natural School, which dethroned the romantic hero 
 with his extravagant and exceptional achievements, and 
 enlisted the reader's sympathy for the struggles, suffer- 
 ings and defeats of plain, every-day characters. Mili- 
 tary exploits immediately lost their favor as subjects 
 of novels, and in the portrayal of war scenes the Rus- 
 sian authors sought out the humble soldiers with their 
 passive resignation to fate, where formerly they had 
 revelled in the glorification of generals and kings. Tol- 
 stoy began his career as a romanticist, and, besides 
 his autobiographical sketches, wrote his Incursion, a 
 story of camp life in the Caucasus. This was but a 
 flash in the pan. In 1855 the Crimean War broke out, 
 and Tolstoy, in his Sevastopol sketches, described the 
 terror and uselessness of battles, in which the only 
 heroes were the patient soldiers who unflinchingly per- 
 formed their duties, while the officers vied with each 
 other in bravado, debauch, and cowardice. He returned 
 to the recital of battle scenes in War and Peace, only 
 to deny the existence of all military science, to belittle 
 the genius of Napoleon, and to extol the Christian meek- 
 ness of a peasant, Platon Karataev. 
 
 The Turco-Russian War did not produce any marked 
 literary denunciation of war, except in Garshin's Four 
 Days, in which the terrible suffering of a wounded sol- 
 dier was painfully recited. But Tolstoy's example was 
 this time followed by the great painter Vereshchagin, 
 who devoted all his energy to the reproduction of battle 
 
 vii 
 
viii FOREWORD 
 
 scenes in sucli a realistic manner that they could only 
 fill the spectator with abhorrence and hatred of war. 
 The Russian Government found it necessary to pro- 
 hibit exhibitions of his pictures as destructive of pa- 
 triotism, that is, as creating a spirit imfavorable to the 
 maintenance of military enthusiasm. 
 
 During the Russo-Japanese War, Vereshchagin once 
 more set out to study battle scenes on the spot, but lost 
 his life on one of the cruisers which was sunk by the 
 Japanese. This time, however, it fell to the lot of a 
 physician, Veresaev, to sketch the whole campaign in 
 such a way as to deprive war of the last vestige of 
 respect, and to bear out the novelist and the painter 
 in every detail of their terrible denunciations. The 
 abyss has been reached. The ignorance, incompetence, 
 negligence and brutality of the superior officers are 
 described in painful detail, and now even the soldiers 
 have lost the aureole with which Tolstoy surrounded 
 them. As a human document Veresaev's In the War 
 is of prime importance. It is the most complete analy- 
 sis of the ingloriousness of war yet obtained. The 
 present European War will hardly produce anything 
 more incisive than the works of the Russian novelist, 
 painter and physician. 
 
 The Teanslator, 
 
IN THE WAR 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 AT HOME 
 
 Japan broke off her diplomatic relations with Russia. 
 In the roadstead of Port Arthur the explosions of Jap- 
 anese mines resounded one dark night amidst the 
 peacefully-sleeping war-ships. In distant Chemulpo 
 the lonely Varydg and K or Sets perished after a titanic 
 struggle with a whole squadron. The war began. 
 
 What was this war about ? Nobody knew. For half 
 a year conversations, unintelligible to all, had been go- 
 ing on in regard to the evacuation of Manchuria by the 
 Russians. The clouds had been gathering heavier and 
 heavier, and a storm was in the air. Our statesmen 
 had been balancing the scales of war and peace with 
 provoking hesitation. Now Japan definitely cast her 
 lot on the scale of war. 
 
 The Russian patriotic newspapers began to seethe 
 with military fervor. They shouted about the hellish 
 treachery and Asiatic cunning of the Japanese, who 
 had attacked us without a declaration of war. Mani- 
 festations were taking place in all the large cities. 
 Crowds of people walked the streets with the Tsar's 
 portraits in their hands, shouting "Hurrah !" and sing- 
 ing "God save the Tsar !" According to the newspapers, 
 the audiences in the theatre persistently and unani- 
 mously demanded the singing of the national hymn. 
 The armies that went eastward struck the newspaper 
 
 1 
 
3 IN THE WAR 
 
 reporters by their fine appearance, and were anxious 
 to begin battle. It looked as though Russia, from the 
 top to the bottom, were seized by one mighty impulse 
 of enthusiasm and indignation. 
 
 Of course, the war had not been provoked by Japan, 
 and was incomprehensible on account of its useless- 
 ness ; but what of that? If each small cell of the living 
 body has its small, individual consciousness, it will not 
 ask the question why the body has suddenly leaped up, 
 why it makes an effort, why it struggles. The blood 
 corpuscles will flow through the arteries, the muscular 
 tissues will contract, each little cell will do its pre- 
 determined duty. But it is the business of the supreme 
 brain to say what the struggle is for and where the 
 blows are to fall. It is precisely this impression that 
 Russia was making: she did not need the war, she did 
 not understand it; but all her enormous organism was 
 atremble with the mighty elation which had taken pos- 
 session of her. 
 
 So it seemed from a (distance, but it looked quite dif- 
 ferently near by. The intellectuals were not at all 
 hostilely provoked against the Japanese. They were 
 not agitated by the question of the result of the war; 
 there was not a trace of ill-feeling against the Jap- 
 anese; our failures did not oppress them. On the con- 
 trary, side by side with the pain for the reckless and 
 useless sacrifices, there went a feeling almost of malice. 
 Many people went so far as to proclaim that Russia 
 would be best served by a defeat. To the occasional 
 observer, to whom the whole matter was incompre- 
 hensible, it looked as though something incredible was 
 taking place. He saw the country at war, and yet at 
 home the flower of its intelligence was following the 
 struggle with hostile impatience. Foreigners were baf- 
 fled and the "Patriots" were immeasurably provoked 
 by "the rotten, aimless, cosmopolitan Russian intelli- 
 gentsiya." But with the majority it was not at all a 
 
AT HOME S 
 
 real, broad cosmopolitanism which could say to its 
 country, "You are wrong, your enemy is right" ; nor 
 was it an innate contempt for the bloody, sanguinary 
 method of solving international quarrels. What really 
 was striking in this matter, what now glaringly met the 
 eye, was the immeasurably deep, universal hostility to- 
 wards the rulers of the country that had begun the 
 war. They, who had been leading up towards a strug- 
 gle with the enemy, were themselves the most hated 
 enemies and most foreign to the masses. 
 
 Again, the nation was experiencing something quite 
 different from what the patriotic newspapers had been 
 expecting. In the beginning there had, indeed, been 
 some enthusiasm, the unconscious enthusiasm of the un- 
 thinking cell, that was carried away by the fervor of 
 the organism aflame for the struggle. But the enthusi- 
 asm was only superficial and weak, and from the per- 
 sistently shouting figures on the stage heavy threads 
 were running behind the curtains, and the directing 
 hands were visible. 
 
 I was at that time living in Moscow. During the 
 Butter Week I happened to be in the Great Theatre, 
 to see "Rigoletto." Before the overture, several voices 
 in the pit and in the galleries demanded the national 
 hymn. The curtain rose, the chorus on the stage sang 
 the hymn, and an encore was demanded ; and they sang 
 a second and a third time. Then they passed over to 
 the opera. Before the last act, when all were already 
 in their places, single voices suddenly began to shout 
 from various parts of the house, "The Hymn, the 
 Hymn!" The curtain shot up at once. The chorus 
 stood on the stage in a semicircle, dressed in their opera 
 costumes, and they once more gave the three conven- 
 tional repetitions of the hymn. But here was a strange 
 matter. As is well known, the chorus has no part in 
 the last act of "Rigoletto." Why, then, had they not 
 changed their clothes and gone home.^^ How could they 
 
^4. IN THE WAR 
 
 have had a presentiment of the growth of the patriotic 
 enthusiasm of the public, and why had they arranged 
 themselves in time on the stage, where they had no 
 business to be? The next day the newspapers wrote: 
 "In society may be observed an ever-growing elan of 
 patriotic sentiments. Last night the audiences in all 
 the theatres persistently demanded the singing of the 
 national hymn, not only before the performance, but 
 even before the last act." 
 
 The same suspicious element might have been ob- 
 served in the street manifestations. The crowds were 
 small and consisted to a great extent of street urchins. 
 In the leaders of the manifestations people recognized 
 policemen in civilian clothes. The attitude of the 
 crowd was aggressive and insulting. They demanded 
 of passers-by that they should take off their hats. 
 Those who did not do so were beaten. When the crowd 
 increased, there arose unforeseen complications. They 
 almost demolished the "Hermitage" restaurant, and 
 on Strastnaya Square mounted policemen drove off 
 with knouts the overfervent demonstrators of patriotic 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 The Governor General issued an order. He thanked 
 the citizens for the sentiments expressed by them, and 
 proposed that they should stop their manifestations 
 and return to their peaceful occupations. Similar calls 
 were at the same time issued by the high officials of 
 other cities, and suddenly all the manifestations ceased. 
 It was touching to notice the exemplary obedience with 
 which the citizens proportioned the height of their 
 spiritual ardor with the insinuations of the warmly- 
 beloved authorities. Soon, very soon, the streets of 
 the Russian cities were. to be filled with other crowds 
 that were welded by a real, common enthusiasm, and 
 against this enthusiasm not only the paternal insinua- 
 tions of the authorities, but even knouts, sabres, and 
 bullets, remained impotent. 
 
AT HOME 5 
 
 In the show-cases of the stores were displayed cheap 
 chromos of an amazingly stupid character. On one of 
 them a gigantic Cossack, with a ferocious grin on his 
 face, was mercilessly beating with his knout a tiny, 
 frightened, howling Japanese. In another picture, 
 which portrayed "How a Russian tar did a Jap's face 
 mar," the blood streamed down the face of the Jap- 
 anese, and his teeth poured down in a heavy rain into 
 the blue waves. Small "monkeys" were squirming under 
 the enormous boots of a shaggy creature with a blood- 
 thirsty physiognomy, which personified Russia. It was 
 as though the artist could get no other inspiration than 
 from a drunken bout in a low saloon, where jaws 
 cracked and teeth flew all about. Meanwhile patriotic 
 newspapers and periodicals wrote of the deeply na- 
 tional and deeply Christian character of the war, of 
 the mighty incipient struggle of George the Victor 
 with the Dragon. 
 
 And Japanese victories followed upon victories. 
 One after another our ironclads were smashed, and the 
 Japanese proceeded farther and farther into Korea. 
 Makarov and Kuropatkin, taking with them moun- 
 tains of consecrated icons, had left for the Far East. 
 Kuropatkin pronounced his famous "Patience, pa- 
 tience, and patience." At the end of March the blindly- 
 brave Makarov, deftly baited by Admiral Togo, went 
 down with the "Petropavlovsk." The Japanese crossed 
 the river Yalu. The news of their landing at Bitszyvo 
 flashed across the country like a streak of lightning. 
 Port Arthur was cut off. 
 
 It appeared that we were attacked not by fimny 
 crowds of contemptible '^monkeys," but by well-organ- 
 ized armies of stern warriors who were insensately 
 brave and who were seized by a great spiritual ardor. 
 Their firmness of character and power of organization 
 inspired admiration. In interims between the arrival 
 of news of great Japanese victories, the despatches 
 
6 IN THE WAR 
 
 announced some spirited scouting expeditions of Cap- 
 tain K. or Lieutenant U., who had bravely cut down 
 a Japanese guard of a dozen men or so. But this did 
 not help to balance the bad impression. Confidence was 
 falling more and more. 
 
 A newspaper boy walked down the street, and some 
 artisans were sitting in front of the gate. 
 
 "The latest despatches from the theatre of war! 
 We have beaten the Japs !" 
 
 "All right. Get a move on you ! I guess they have 
 found a drunken Jap somewhere in the gutter and have 
 licked him. We're on to it!" 
 
 The battles were becoming more frequent and more 
 bloody. A sanguinary mist was covering distant Man- 
 churia. Explosions, rains of fire from the cannon, cov- 
 ered pits, and barbed-wire entanglements — corpses, 
 corpses, corpses — from a thousand miles away there 
 seemed to pass through the pages of the newspapers 
 the odor of lacerated and singed human flesh, the phan- 
 tom of some gigantic, unheard-of slaughter. 
 
 In April I left Moscow for the city of N. and 
 departed thence into the country. Everywhere they 
 eagerly read the newspapers and asked for the latest 
 news. The peasants said in sadness: "Now they are 
 going to ask for bigger taxes !" 
 
 At the end of April our Government announced a 
 mobilization. There had been dim references to it be- 
 fore, and it had been expected for three weeks ; but 
 everything was kept a great secret. Suddenly the Gov- 
 ernment was struck as if by a hurricane. They drafted 
 the men in the villages right from the fields and from 
 the ploughs. In the towns the pohce rang the bell in 
 private apartments in the dead of night, handed sum- 
 monses to the recruits, and ordered them to make their 
 appearance in the wards without delay. At the house 
 of a friend of mine, an engineer, they drafted all the 
 
AT HOME 7 
 
 servants, the lackey, the coachman, and the cook. He 
 himself happened to be away on leave of absence. The 
 police broke open his desk, got from it the passports of 
 the recruits, and carried them all oif. 
 
 There was something unfeelingly ferocious in this 
 incomprehensible haste. They tore men away from 
 the midst of their business, without giving them a 
 chance to settle or liquidate their affairs. Men were 
 carried off, and all that there was left after them were 
 senselessly-destroyed households and ruined welfare. 
 
 The next morning I happened to be in the office of 
 the Military Council. I had to report my country ad- 
 dress in case of being called with the reserve. In the 
 large yard of the office, along the fences, stood carts 
 with horses, and in the carts and on the ground sat 
 women, children, and old men. A large crowd of 
 peasants was standing around the porch of the office. 
 A soldier at the door kept driving the peasants away. 
 He shouted angrily: 
 
 "Didn't I tell you to come Monday? Get away! 
 Move along!" 
 
 "What do you mean by Monday? You took us, 
 you drove us, you told us to get here at once." 
 
 "All right. So come on Monday!" 
 
 "On Monday!" The peasants walked off, swinging 
 their arms. "They raised us in the night, they took us 
 without saying a word, they didn't give us a chance to 
 straighten out matters, they drove us here for a dis- 
 tance of thirty versts, and now they teU us 'Come Mon- 
 day !' And it is only Saturday to-day !" 
 
 "Of course, it would have been more convenient for 
 us to come on Monday. But where are we to stay now 
 until Monday?" 
 
 Weeping and lamentation filled the whole city. Here 
 and there brief dramas were enacted. One recruit from 
 a factory had a sickly wife and five children. When 
 the call to the army came, the excitement and sorrow 
 
8 IN THE WAR 
 
 caused his wife paralysis of the heart, and she died at 
 once. Her husband took a glance at the dead body 
 and at his children, and went into the barn and hanged 
 himself. 
 
 Another recruit, a widower with three children, wept 
 and cried in the Council room: 
 
 "What shall I do with my children? Instruct me 
 what to do ! They will all die from starvation without 
 me!" 
 
 He acted like a madman, shouted, and shook his fists 
 in the air. Then he suddenly grew silent, went home, 
 killed his children with an axe, and came back. 
 
 "Now take me. I've attended to my business." 
 
 He was arrested. 
 
 The despatches from the theatre of the war again 
 and again brought the news of great Japanese vic- 
 tories, and of clever scouting exploits of Ensign Ivanov, 
 or Cornet Petrov. The newspapers said that the Jap- 
 anese victories on the sea were not at all remarkable, 
 because the Japanese were born sailors, but that now, 
 since the war was transferred to the land, things would 
 go quite differently. We were informed that the Jap- 
 anese were out of money and men, and that sixteen- 
 year old boys and old men were being called to the col- 
 ors. Kuropatkin calmly and austerely announced that 
 peace would be made only at Tokio. 
 
 In May, before the army corps was sent to the Far 
 East, the reservists received a week's leave of absence. 
 I was just driving from the railway station to the 
 village as they were returning to the city. It was a 
 grey, misty, rainless evening. Soldiers w'ere walking 
 and driving along the road to the station. It was un- 
 usual to see these grown-up, bearded peasants in mili- 
 tary cloaks. Some were drunk and shouted songs ; oth- 
 ers were sober, and trudged along gloomily and sadly. 
 The women howled. A stocky soldier with a shaggy 
 beard and firmly-set lips looked at me. He said : 
 
AT HOME 9 
 
 "Give me your blessing for the Far East!" 
 
 I had a strange sensation, as though it were the voice 
 of one who was on his way to his execution. 
 
 Aleksyey Sofronychev, a plasterer from our village, 
 drove by in a cart. His cloak hung like a bag on his 
 narrow, stooping shoulders, and his eyes looked im- 
 movably at one point. His silent wife, with tearful 
 eyes, held the reins. 
 
 It was getting dark. The sky was overcast, the fields 
 looked gloomy. And in the twilight the sad figures of 
 the fated ones moved on like grey phantoms. 
 
 In the beginning of June I received in the country a 
 despatch demanding my immediate appearance at mili- 
 tary headquarters. 
 
 There I was told that I was called for active service 
 and must report in the city of S. at the Staff Office 
 of the Division of Infantry. According to law, I was 
 given two days to arrange my domestic affairs and 
 three days to get my uniform. Everything was being 
 done in haste, the uniform was being made, and all 
 kinds of things were being bought. Nobody knew how 
 the uniform was to be made, what was to be bought, 
 or how many things one could take along. It was a 
 difficult matter to get one's complete equipment in five 
 days. It was necessary to hurry the tailors and to 
 pay them three-fold for day and night work. In spite 
 of it all, the uniform was a day late, and I hurried on 
 the first train to S. 
 
 I arrived at night. All the hotels were full of newly- 
 drafted officers and surgeons, and I drove about town 
 for a long while before I found an expensive and dirty 
 room in an ill-furnished lodging-house in the outskirts 
 of the town. 
 
 In the morning I went to the Staff of the Division. 
 I felt awkward in the military uniform, and I felt awk- 
 ward, too, because the soldiers and policemen whom I 
 
10 IN THE WAR 
 
 passed saluted me. My legs got constantly entangled 
 with the sabre which dangled at my side. 
 
 The long, low-studded rooms of the Staff were filled 
 with tables, at which officers, surgeons, and soldier- 
 clerks sat and wrote. I was directed to the Assistant 
 Division Surgeon. 
 
 "What is your name.?" 
 
 I gave it to him. 
 
 "You are not mentioned here in the mobilization 
 plan," he repKed in surprise. 
 
 "I know nothing about it. I was summoned here 
 to S. with the order to appear at the office of the In- 
 fantry Division. Here is the paper." 
 
 The Assistant Division Surgeon looked through the 
 paper and shrugged his shoulders. He went away, 
 had a talk with another surgeon, and both rummaged 
 through a lot of documents. 
 
 "There is positively no reference to you in our docu- 
 ments," he announced to me. 
 
 "So I may return home?" I asked smihngly. 
 
 "Just wait a little. I'll take another look." 
 
 I waited. There were some other surgeons who had 
 been called from the reserve, some in civilian clothes, 
 others, like me, in brand new uniforms with shining 
 shoulder-straps. We made each other's acquaintance. 
 They told me of the incredible confusion which reigned 
 in the office. Nobody knew what he was about, and 
 nobody could find anything out from his neighbor. 
 
 "Arise !" A sonorous voice commandingly passed 
 through the room. 
 
 Everybody arose, hurriedly arranging his clothes. 
 An old, spectacled general sauntered into the room, 
 exclaiming jestingly: 
 
 "I wish you good health!" 
 
 A friendly din met his salutation. The general 
 passed into the next room. 
 
 The assistant approached me. 
 
AT HOME 11 
 
 "Well, at last we have found it. In the ambulance 
 corps of the field hospital there is a vacancy caused by 
 a junior surgeon whom the MiHtary Council has de- 
 clared to be unfit for service. You are to take his place. 
 By the way, here is your chief surgeon. Introduce 
 yourself to him." 
 
 A small, spare old man hurriedly entered the room. 
 His uniform was shabby, and his shoulder-straps, indi- 
 cating his rank of Collegiate Councillor, were tarnished. 
 I walked up to him and introduced myself. I asked 
 him where I was to go, and what I was to do. 
 
 "What are you to do? Why, nothing. Just leave 
 your address in the Office, that's all." 
 
 I left the Staff with a strange feeling. The stern 
 •and categorical rules of the summons demanded that 
 I should leave for the appointed place within five 
 days ; I left my personal affairs in an unfinished con- 
 dition; I flew thither as to a conflagration — and here 
 I saw that nobody needed me, that there was no sense 
 in being in a hurry. I might have arrived a week or 
 two later, and no one would even have noticed it. 
 
 Day after day passed without work. Our Corps did 
 not leave for the Far East until two months later. We, 
 the surgeons, improved our knowledge of surgery by 
 visiting the local hospital, being present at operations, 
 and working over dead bodies. 
 
 Among my companions who had been called from 
 the reserve, there were specialists in all imaginable de- 
 partments. There were among them alienists, hygien- 
 ists, children's physicians, accoucheurs. We were scat- 
 tered over hospitals, over ambulances, over armies, on 
 the basis of the mobilization records, and not at all 
 on the basis of our specialties. There were some physi- 
 cians who had long ago given up practice. One of them 
 had entered the service of the Excise Office eight years 
 before, immediately after graduating from the uni- 
 
12 IN THE WAR 
 
 versity, and had never in all his life written a single 
 prescription. 
 
 There was another physician, a grey-haired man, 
 rather bald, who was nearly sixty years old. How 
 could such an old man have been summoned to the 
 army? This is the way it happened. After grad- 
 uating as a physician, a man who is subject to military 
 duty is counted in the reserve for the next eighteen 
 years, independently of his wish, of course, whether he 
 likes it or not. It would seem that after eighteen years 
 the physician would be free. Not at all. He must then 
 make known his desire to leave the reserve, otherwise he 
 is not stricken from the records, and continues to be 
 counted in the voluntary reserves. Our old physician 
 had accomphshed the term of the reserve some twelve 
 years ago, but like a typical Russian he forgot to give 
 notice of the end of his service, and so he quite unex- 
 pectedly appeared in the "voluntary reserves." Now, 
 since the war had been declared, matters were settled, 
 and he could not leave the reserve. So the old man was 
 called, and he had to go to the war. 
 
 I was appointed to the field hospital. In war time 
 every division has two such hospitals. In the hospital 
 there is one chief surgeon, one senior assistant sur- 
 geon, and three junior assistants. The lower positions 
 were taken by physicians who had been called from 
 the reserve, the higher by military surgeons, 
 
 I seldom saw our chief surgeon. Dr. Davydov. He 
 was busy organizing the movable hospital; besides, he 
 had an extensive practice in the city, and was con- 
 stantly rushing somewhere. At the Staff I made the 
 acquaintance of the chief surgeon of the second hos- 
 pital of our division. Dr. Mutin. Previous to the 
 mobilization he had been the junior surgeon of the 
 local regiment. He was still living with his wife in the 
 regimental camp. I passed an evening with him, and 
 met there the junior surgeons of his hospital. They 
 
AT HOME IS 
 
 had all made each other's acquaintance, and a relation- 
 ship of comradery had established itself between them 
 and Miitin. They were a jolly, happy lot. I was 
 sorry for not having been appointed to their hospital, 
 and I envied them. 
 
 A few days later a despatch suddenly came from 
 Moscow to the Staff of the Division. Dr. Mutin was 
 ordered to turn over his hospital to a Dr. Sultanov, 
 and himself immediately to repair to Harbin, in order 
 to organize a reserve hospital there. The appoint- 
 ment was unexpected and incomprehensible ; Mutin had 
 already formed his hospital here, and had everything 
 in running order^ — and suddenly this transfer. Of 
 course, there was nothing to do but submit. Mutin 
 consoled himself with the thought that now he would 
 not have to go to the Far East with the echelon, and 
 that, consequently, he would get travelling expenses, 
 about a thousand rubles. But a few days later there 
 came a new telegram. Mutin was not to go to Har- 
 bin; he was again appointed junior surgeon of his regi- 
 ment, which he was to accompany to the Far East. 
 Upon arrival at Harbin with the echelon, he was to 
 organize a reserve hospital. Thus he lost the chance 
 for the travelling expenses. 
 
 It was a cruel and undeserved affront. Mutin was 
 provoked and agitated. He said that after such an 
 insult in the service there was nothing left for him to 
 do but to send a bullet through his brain. He took 
 a leave of absence, and went to Moscow to get justice. 
 He had some connections there, but he did not succeed 
 in his quest. He was given to understand in Moscow 
 that a mighty person had a hand in the matter and 
 that nothing could be done against him. 
 
 Mutin returned to his shattered nest, the regimental 
 ward, and a few days later there arrived from Moscow 
 his successor in the hospital. Dr. Sultanov. He was a 
 tall gentleman, in the forties, with a Van Dyke beard 
 
14 IN THE WAR 
 
 and greyish hair, and with a clever, smiling face. He 
 knew how to start a conversation and to talk glibly ; he 
 became everywhere the centre of attention, and in a 
 nonchalant, serious voice dropped witticisms which 
 made everybody laugh. Sultanov stayed in town a few 
 days, and then went back to Moscow. He left all the 
 responsibility for the further arrangement of the hos^ 
 pital in the hands of the senior assistant. 
 
 Soon it became known that of the four Sisters of 
 Mercy who had been invited to the hospital from the 
 local Red Cross Society, only one was left. Dr. Sul- 
 tanov announced that he would substitute the other 
 three himself. There were rumors that Sultanov was 
 a great friend of the commander of our corps, and that 
 certain Moscow ladies, good friends of the commander 
 of the corps, were going to the theatre of war, and to 
 his hospital, in the capacity of Sisters of Mercy. 
 
 The town was full of soldiers. The red lapels of the 
 generals, the gold and silver lace of the officers, and 
 the yellow and cinnamon blouses of the lower ranks 
 gleamed everywhere. The men were constantly as- 
 suming attitudes and shamming to each other. Every- 
 thing looked strange and queer. 
 
 On my uniform there were silver buttons, and on my 
 shoulders tinsel silver straps. On the basis of these, 
 every soldier was obliged to draw himself up respect- 
 fully in front of me and to use antiquated phrases, such 
 as "Precisely so, sir," "By no means, sir," "I will try, 
 sir." On the same basis I was obliged to evince a deep 
 respect for every old man if his cloak had a red hn- 
 ing and a red stripe ran down his trousers. 
 
 I learned that I had no right to smoke in the pres- 
 ence of a general, nor to sit down without his permis- 
 sion. I learned that any general could arbitrarily put 
 me under arrest for a month, while my chief surgeon 
 might lock me up for a week. And all this would hap- 
 
AT HOME 15 
 
 pen without any right of appeal, even without any 
 right on my part to ask for an explanation of my ar- 
 rest. I myself might exercise the same power over 
 the lower ranks under my command. A certain novel 
 atmosphere was created, and it was perceptible that 
 men were getting drunk from their power over other 
 men, and that their souls were tuned anew in a man- 
 ner which only provoked smiles. 
 
 This intoxicating atmosphere acted in a curious way 
 upon the feeble head of one of the physicians who had 
 been called from the reserve. This was Dr. Vasilev, 
 that same senior surgeon to whom Sultanov, upon de- 
 parting for Moscow, turned over the task of organizing 
 the hospital. Psychically unbalanced, painfuUy pufFed- 
 up by egotism, Vasilev was simply crazed by the power 
 and respect with which he suddenly found himself sur- 
 rounded. 
 
 One day he entered the office of his hospital. When 
 the chief surgeon, who enjoyed the privileges of a dis- 
 trict commander, entered the office, the supervising 
 officer generally gave the command to the sitting clerks, 
 "Arise!" When Vasilev entered, the supervisor failed 
 to do this. 
 
 Vasilev frowned, called the supervisor to one side, 
 and sternly asked him why he had not given the com- 
 mand to the clerks to arise. The supervisor shrugged 
 his shoulders. 
 
 "This is merely a manifestation of accepted polite- 
 ness which I may show you, if I am so inclined, or 
 which I may omit." 
 
 "Pardon me. So long as I perform the duties of 
 the chief surgeon, you are obliged to do it by law." 
 
 "I know no such law." 
 
 "Well, take the trouble to find out the law, and 
 meanwhile you will go under arrest for two days." 
 
 The officer turned to the Commander of the Division 
 and told him the affair. Dr. Vasilev was called in. 
 
16 IN THE WAR 
 
 The general, the commander of his staff, and two staff 
 officers took up the affair, and decided that the super- 
 visor was obliged to shout, "Arise!" He was freed 
 from arrest, but he was transferred from the hospital 
 to the line. 
 
 When the supervisor had left, the Division Com- 
 mander said to Dr. Vasilev: 
 
 "You see, I am a general. I have served nearly forty 
 years, my hair has grown grey in service, and up to 
 the present time I have never put an officer under ar- 
 rest. You have barely entered military service, and have 
 temporarily, for a few days, had authority delegated 
 to you, and you have already made haste to make use 
 of this power to its fullest extent." 
 
 In times of peace our corps did not ^xist. During 
 mobilization it was evolved out of one brigade and con- 
 sisted almost exclusively of reservists. The soldiers 
 had forgotten discipline and were oppressed by cares 
 for their families. Many of them did not even know 
 how to handle the rifles of the new pattern. They were 
 going to the war, while the youthful, fresh armies, con- 
 sisting of soldiers of the line, remained in Russia. It 
 was rumored that Minister of War Sakharov was quite 
 hostile to Kuropatkin, and was purposely sending the 
 very worst regiments to the Far East in order to hurt 
 his reputation. The rumors were persistent, and in 
 his conversations with the reporters Sakharov was 
 obliged to justify himself vehemently for his incompre- 
 hensible manner of action. 
 
 At the Staff, I made the acquaintance of the local 
 Division Surgeon. He was about to retire on account 
 of illness, and was just serving out his last days. He 
 was a very dear and kind-hearted old man, a pitiful 
 object whom life had treated cruelly. Out of curiosity 
 I went with him to the local military lazaretto to attend 
 the sitting of the Commission which examined the sol- 
 
AT HOME IT 
 
 diers who reported themselves as sick. They had mo- 
 bihzed even the reservists of the very earliest classes : 
 before our eyes passed an endless row of rheumatics, 
 emphysematics, toothless men, men afflicted with vari- 
 cose veins. The chairman of the Commission, a fine 
 major of cavalry, wrinkled his brow and complained 
 that there were too many "protesters." I, on the con- 
 trary, marvelled at the fact that the presiding sur- 
 geons were not "protesting" against so many who were 
 obviously disabled. At the end of the meeting one 
 of the surgeons of the Commission turned to my 
 friend : 
 
 "While you were away, we declared a man unfit for 
 service. Take a look at him, and see whether we ought 
 to free him. It is a bad case of varicocele." 
 
 The soldier was brought in. 
 
 "Take off your trousers !" the Division Surgeon said 
 in a peculiar, suspicious voice. "Oh ! That's it ! Non- 
 sense! No, no, we can't free him!" 
 
 "Your Excellency, I can't walk at all," the soldier 
 said in a gruff way. 
 
 The old physician flew up in a rage. 
 
 "You're a liar! You are malingering! You can 
 walk nicely! My good fellow, I have a worse caSe of 
 it than you ! That's all nonsense, indeed !" He turned 
 to my friend. "The most of them are like that. 
 Scoundrel! Son of a b !" 
 
 The soldier put on his clothes, looking superciliously 
 and with malice at the Division Surgeon. After having 
 dressed, he slowly walked towards the door with a 
 shambling gait. 
 
 "Walk decently!" yelled the old surgeon, furious- 
 ly stamping his feet. "Don't sprawl that way! 
 Walk straight ! My friend, you can't bamboozle 
 
 me I 
 
 I" 
 
 They exchanged glances full of hate. The soldier 
 walked out. , . . 
 
18 IN THE WAR 
 
 In the regiments the senior military surgeons kept 
 telhng the junior surgeons who had been summoned 
 from the reserves: 
 
 "You are unacquainted with the conditions of mili- 
 tary service. Treat the soldiers sternly, and keep in 
 mind that they are unusual patients. They are all 
 remarkable cheats and malingerers." 
 
 One soldier came to the- senior regimental surgeon 
 complaining of a pain in his feet, which made it hard 
 for him to walk. There were no external symptoms, 
 and the surgeon scolded the soldier and drove him away. 
 The junior regimental surgeon followed after the sol- 
 dier, examined him carefully, and found a typical pro- 
 nounced case of flat instep. The soldier was dis- 
 charged. A few days later the same junior surgeon 
 was present as the surgeon of the day during target 
 practice. The soldiers were returning home, and one 
 fell very much behind, and limped heavily on one foot. 
 The surgeon asked him what the matter was. 
 
 "I have a pain in my legs. Only, it is an internal 
 trouble. You can't see anything from without," the 
 soldier answered in a reserved and gloomy way. 
 
 The surgeon made an investigation. There turned 
 out to be a complete absence of knee-jerk reflexes. 
 Naturally, the soldier was discharged. 
 
 So these were the scoundrels. And they were dis- 
 charged only because the young surgeon was "unac- 
 quainted with the conditions of military service." 
 
 It goes without saying, it was a painful sensation to 
 send all this ailing, crippled mass of old men to war. 
 Besides, it really did not pay to receive them, for, after 
 they had travelled seven thousand versts to the Far 
 East, they were knocked out after the first forced 
 march. They filled the hospitals, the etapes, and the 
 companies of the disabled, and a few months later these 
 perfectly useless men, who had cost a lot of money to 
 the government, were returned to Russia. 
 
AT HOME 19 
 
 All this time the town was living in terror and agi- 
 tation. Noisy crowds of newly-drafted soldiers walked 
 about the town, robbing passers-by, and demolishing 
 the saloons of the government monopoly. They said, 
 "Let them take us to court ! We have got to die any- 
 way!" In the evening the soldiers attacked near the 
 camp fifty women who were returning from the brick- 
 yards, and violated them. The rumor spread in the 
 market-place that the reservists were planning a great 
 riot. 
 
 From the East there kept coming news of great Jap- 
 anese victories and of clever scouting exploits of Rus- 
 sian captains and lieutenants. The newspapers said 
 that the Japanese victories in the mountainous regions 
 were not surprising, for they were born mountaineers. 
 But the war was now passing over to the plains, where 
 we could deploy our cavalry, and things would go quite 
 differently. We were informed that the Japanese were 
 entirely out of money and men, and that the depleted 
 ranks of soldiers were being filled with fourteen-year 
 old boys and decrepit old men. Kuropatkin, who was 
 carrying out his totally incomprehensible plan, was re- 
 treating to the powerfully fortified Liao-yang. The 
 military observers wrote, "The bow is bent, the string 
 is tautly-drawn, and soon the death-dealing arrow will 
 fly, with terrible strength, into the very heart of the 
 enemy." 
 
 Our officers looked cheerfully into the future. They 
 said that a turning-point in the war was coming, that 
 Russian victory was certain, and that our corps would 
 hardly have to be in action. We were needed there 
 only for our forty thousand bayonets, at the signing of 
 the treaty of peace. 
 
 In the beginning of August the echelons of our corps 
 went to the Far East. Just before the departure an 
 officer shot himself in a hotel. A soldier went to the 
 bake-shop in the Old Market and bought a pound of 
 
^0 IN THE WAR 
 
 terns e-bread. Ite asked for a knife with which to cut 
 the loaf, and with it cut his throat. Another soldier 
 shot himself near the camp with a rifle. I once went 
 to the railroad station as an echelon was departing. 
 There was a big crowd of people there, among them 
 representatives of the city. The Division Commander 
 was haranguing the departing soldiers, wishing them 
 Godspeed. He said that first of all we must revere 
 God, that we had begun the war with God's aid, and 
 that we should finish it with His aid. The bell rang, 
 and people were exchanging farewells. The air was 
 filled with the weeping and lamentations of the women ; 
 drunken soldiers took their places in the cars, and the 
 public showered money, soap and cigarettes on the de- 
 parting soldiers. Near a car a junior sergeant was bid- 
 ding his wife good-bye, and weeping like a child. His 
 mustachioed, sunburnt face was drenched with tears, 
 and his lips twitched and quivered with grief. His wife, 
 too', was sunburnt, and her distorted face showed 
 prominent cheek-bones. In her arms was a suckling 
 babe in a cap made from bright-colored rags. The 
 woman swayed with her sobbing, and the infant in her 
 arms shook like a Jeaf in the wind. The husband sobbed 
 and kissed the distorted face of the woman, kissed her 
 lips and her eyes, while the babe swayed to and fro. 
 It was strange to see a man sobbing so out of love for 
 such an ugly woman; and tears came to the eyes and 
 a lump rose in the throat from hearing the lamenta- 
 tions and explosive sobs all about. The eyes hung 
 eagerly upon the cars filled with men; how many of 
 them will return.'' How many of them will He as corpses 
 in the distant, blood-drenched fields.'' 
 
 "Well, take your seats ! Get into the cars !" the ser- 
 geants shouted, hurrying the soldiers. They lifted the 
 junior sergeant by his arms into the car. He groaned 
 and struggled to reach the sobbing woman with the 
 babe swaying in her arms. 
 
AT HOME 21 
 
 •i 
 
 «i 
 
 'How can a soldier weep?" a sergeant-major said 
 in a stern, reprimanding voice. 
 
 "Oh, holy mother!" plaintively resounded some wom- 
 en's voices. 
 
 "Step aside!" the gendarmes kept repeating, pushing 
 the crowd away from the cars. But the crowd imme- 
 diately swept back, and was again driven off by the 
 gendarmes. 
 
 "What makes you so eager, mercenary souls .^^ 
 Haven't you any pity.^"' somebody in the crowd ex- 
 claimed indignantly. 
 
 "Pity-f^ Of course I have!" the gendarme replied 
 with a voice of authority. "But what are you going 
 to do with people that kill themselves and kill others.? 
 Why, they throw themselves under the wheels. We 
 have got to look out." 
 
 The train started. The lamentations of the women 
 increased in intensity. The gendarmes kept pushing 
 the crowd back. A soldier ran forward, rapidly crossed 
 the platform, and started to hand a bottle of vodka 
 to the departing men. Suddenly the commander shot 
 up as though from the earth in front of the soldier. 
 He tore the bottle out of the soldier's hands, and hit 
 it against the flagstone. The bottle broke into atoms. 
 A threatening murmur spread among the onlookers, 
 and in the slowly-moving cars. The soldier flashed up 
 with anger, and grimly bit his lips. 
 
 "You have no right to break the bottle !" he shouted 
 at the officer. 
 
 "Wha-at.?" 
 
 The commander swung back his hand and with all 
 his strength slapped the soldier's face. Immediately 
 an armed guard made its appearance and surrounded 
 the soldier. 
 
 The cars moved faster and faster, and the drunken 
 soldiers and the onlookers shouted "Hurrah!" The 
 sergeant's ugly wife swayed, and, dropping the baby 
 
22 IN THE WAR 
 
 from her arms, fell senseless to the ground. A by- 
 stander caught the child in time. 
 
 The train began to disappear in the distance. The 
 Division Commander crossed the platform towards the 
 arrested soldier. 
 
 "So you, my dear fellow, have taken it upon yourself 
 to scold the officer, eh?" he said. 
 
 The soldier stood, pale, restraining as best he could 
 the rage which agitated him. 
 
 "Your Excellency! I should have preferred that 
 he had spilled as much of my blood as he has of the 
 vodka. It is in vodka only that we live, Your Ex- 
 cellency." 
 
 The bystanders crowded about them. 
 
 "It was the officer who slapped his face. General, 
 please inform us whether there is such a law." 
 
 The Division Commander pretended not to hear. He 
 glanced at the soldier through his glasses and said, em- 
 phasizing his words: 
 
 "Have him court-martialled ! Take him to the prison 
 ward ! Have him flogged ! Take him away !" 
 
 The general walked off, repeating slowly and dis- 
 tinctly : 
 
 "Have him court-martialled ! Take him to the prison 
 ward! Have him flogged! Take him away!" 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 ON THE WAY 
 
 Our echelon departed. 
 
 The train stood far away from the platform, on the 
 reserve track. Soldiers, peasants, artisans and women 
 crowded around the cars. For the past two weeks the 
 monopoly saloons had been closed, but most of the sol- 
 diers were drunk. Through the oppressive, sad weep- 
 ing of the women were borne the lively tunes of the 
 harmonica and jests and laughter. Leaning with his 
 back towards the base of the electric lamp sat a nose- 
 less peasant in a torn gaberdine, munching a piece of 
 bread. 
 
 Our supervisor, a lieutenant who had been summoned 
 from the reserves, dressed in his new blouse and glit- 
 tering shoulder straps, walked somewhat nervously up 
 and down in front of the train. 
 
 "Take your places in the cars!" was heard his 
 haughty and commanding voice. 
 
 The crowd was at once agitated. Parting greetings 
 were exchanged. A tottering, drunken soldier pressed 
 his lips to the lips of an old woman in a black kerchief, 
 and kissed her passionately again and again. It was 
 a painful sight — it looked as though he would press 
 her teeth out. At last he tore himself away and rushed 
 to embrace a blithely smiling, broad-bearded peasant. 
 The melancholy lamentations of the women were borne 
 through the air Hke the howling of a snowstorm. Now 
 they sounded like broken, choking sobs ; now they grew 
 weaker, now stronger. 
 
 23 
 
M IN THE WAR 
 
 "Women, away from the cars!" sternly shouted the 
 lieutenant, walking up and down beside the train. 
 
 A sandy-bearded soldier looked with sober and 
 austere eyes out of the car and addressed the lieuten- 
 ant: 
 
 "Your Honor, you have no right to drive our women 
 away," he exclaimed harshly. "You have been given 
 the power over us, so shout at us ; but don't touch our 
 women." 
 
 "That's so. You have no power over the women," 
 mumbled other voices. 
 
 The supervisor blushed, but pretended that he did 
 not hear, and said in a softer voice: 
 
 "Close the doors. The train will soon start." 
 
 The conductor's whistle was heard, the train jarred, 
 and began to move. 
 
 "IHurrah!" came the thundering sounds from the 
 cars and from the bystanders. 
 
 Amidst the sobbing, helplessly swaying women who 
 were supported by the men, suddenly flashed the nose- 
 less face of the peasant in the torn gaberdine. From 
 his bloodshot eyes tears streamed down over his mu- 
 tilated countenance, and his lips twitched. 
 
 "Hurrah!" was thundered through the air, while 
 the rumble of the wheels grew louder and louder. In 
 the front car a soldier chorus started to sing inhar- 
 moniously the Lord's Prayer. Along the roadbed, at 
 some distance from the train, strutted the broad- 
 bearded peasant with a blissful, flushed face. He swung 
 his arms, and opening wide his dark red mouth, shouted 
 "Hurrah!" 
 
 Just then groups of railway workers in blue blouses 
 came towards the train from their shops. 
 
 "Good fellows, may you return in good health!" 
 shouted one. Another threw his cap high into the air. 
 
 "Hurrah!" was the answer from the cars. 
 
 The train rumbled and increased its speed. A 
 
ON THE WAY 25 
 
 drunken soldier leaned to his waist out of the high, 
 small window of the freight car and continued shouting 
 "Hurrah!" His open-mouthed profile stood out dark 
 against the background of the blue heavens. Men and 
 buildings receded. He swung his cap to the telegraph 
 poles and continued shouting "Hurrah!" 
 
 The supervisor entered our compartment. He was 
 sad and agitated. 
 
 "Have you heard this story .f^ Officers just told me 
 at the station that soldiers yesterday killed Colonel 
 Lukashov. They were drunk and started shooting 
 from the cars at a herd that was passing by. He tried 
 to stop them, and so they killed him." 
 
 "I heard it differently," I retorted. "He treated 
 the soldiers very brutally and they promised before 
 departing that they would kill him on the way." 
 
 "Yes !" The supervisor was silent for a moment, 
 and looked with wide-open eyes in front of him. "Yes, 
 one has to be more careful with them!" 
 
 In the cars of the common soldiers they kept drink- 
 ing without cessation. Nobody knew how or where the 
 soldiers got the vodka. But they had all they wanted. 
 Day and night, songs, drunken conversations, and 
 laughter could be heard in the cars. Whenever the 
 train left a station the soldiers cheered in a confused 
 and feeble manner, and the bystanders, who had become 
 accustomed to the travelling echelons, looked at them 
 in silence and with indifference. 
 
 The same feeble eff^ort could be observed in the mer- 
 riment of the soldiers. They meant to be as jolly as 
 possible and to have a continuous good time; but they 
 were not successful. They were drunk, but none the 
 less they felt lonely. Corporal Suchkov, ex-shoemaker, 
 danced with abandon at every stop, as though he were 
 performing a duty. The soldiers crowded around him. 
 
 Lean and lank Suchkov, with his chintz shirt tucked 
 
26 IN THE WAR 
 
 into his trousers, clapped his hands, bent his knees, 
 and danced to the sound of the harmonica. His mo- 
 tions were slow and provokingly sluggish, his body 
 swayed limply as though it were without bones, and his 
 legs dangled lazily forward. Then he caught the tip 
 of his boot in his hand and continued dancing on one 
 foot. His body still swayed and strangely balanced 
 on one leg, in spite of his beastly intoxication. Then 
 he suddenly leaped up and started the steps of a jig; 
 again his dangling legs flew forward, and his appar- 
 ently boneless body swayed with the same provoking, 
 sluggish movements. 
 
 Laughter was heard all around. 
 
 "Can't you step it more lively. Uncle.?" 
 
 "Say, friend, go behind the gate, have a good cry, 
 and then come back and dance!" 
 
 "He's got just one joint, and that's all he shows!" 
 said the surgeon's assistant of the company, throwing 
 up his hands and walking away. 
 
 But Suchkov himself was getting dissatisfied with 
 the sluggishness of his motions, which kept him from 
 dancing jauntily. He suddenly stopped, beat the floor 
 with his foot, and furiously struck his breast with his 
 fist. 
 
 "Well, strike your breast once more! There is a 
 fine hollow sound in it !" the sergeant-major said, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 "Stop your dancing! Leave some for to-morrow!" 
 some soldiers exclaimed sternly, as they crawled back 
 into the cars. 
 
 At times, for no particular reason, they would start 
 dancing madly at some small station. The pavement 
 resounded with the clatter of their heels, the mighty 
 bodies swayed, squatted, bounced up like balls, and 
 insanely jolly shouts and squeaks were borne over the 
 sunburnt steppes. 
 
 Our Corps Commander caught up with us on the 
 
ON THE WAY ^7 
 
 Samara-Zlatoust Road. He was travelling in a spe- 
 cial car of the express train. Everything was in a 
 flutter. The pale supervisor in agitation drew up the 
 company in front of the train, "just as they were," as 
 the Corps Commander had ordered. The most intoxi- 
 cated soldiers were put away in the back cars. 
 
 The general crossed the rails to the fourth track, 
 where our echelon stood, and reviewed the soldiers 
 standing in line. He put a few questions to some 
 of them. They answered coherently, but tried 
 not to breathe upon the general. He went back 
 silently. 
 
 Alas, not far from the car of the Corps Commander, 
 amidst a crowd of onlookers, Suchkov was dancing on 
 the platform. He was dancing and urging on a co- 
 quettish, buxom chambermaid to dance with him. 
 
 "What do you want before you will dance.? Roast 
 sausage .f^" 
 
 The chambermaid laughed and disappeared in the 
 crowd. Suchkov rushed after her. 
 
 "You vixen, look out! I've got an eye on you!" 
 
 The supervisor nearly fainted. 
 
 "Call him away!" he hissed in anger to the other 
 soldiers. 
 
 The soldiers grabbed Suchkov under the arms and 
 carried him off. Suchkov cursed, yelled, and fought. 
 The general and the Staff Commander silently threw 
 side glances at him. 
 
 A minute later the chief surgeon stood at attention 
 before the Corps Commander, with his hand to his 
 cap. The general angrily said something to him, and 
 went back with the Staff Commander to his car. 
 
 The Staff Commander came back. Striking his 
 lacquered boot with an elegant riding-crop, he turned 
 to the chief surgeon and the supervisor. 
 
 "His Excellency sternly reprimands you. We have 
 come past many an echelon, — they presented themselves 
 
28 IN THE WAR 
 
 in excellent order. But with you the whole company 
 is drunk." 
 
 "Colonel, we can't do anything with them." 
 
 "You had better give them some rehgious tracts to 
 read." 
 
 "It doesn't do any good. They read them and go on 
 drinking." 
 
 "Well, then — " the colonel swished his crop through 
 the air emphatically, and said: "Try it! It helps a 
 lot!" 
 
 This conversation took place not two weeks later 
 than the issue of the imperial manifesto for the com- 
 plete abolition of corporal punishment. 
 
 We crossed the Urals. All about us were the steppes. 
 The echelons crept slowly, one after the other, and 
 there were endless stops at the stations. We did not 
 make more than one hundred and fifty to two hundred 
 versts in twenty-four hours. 
 
 The same drunkenness was present in all the eche- 
 lons. The soldiers rioted and robbed the railway lunch- 
 counters and villages. There was little discipline, and 
 it was no easy matter to keep that up. The discipline 
 was all based on fear, but the men knew that they were 
 going to their death, so how could they be frightened.'* 
 Death would come anyway, and any other punishment 
 would be better than death. Here is the kind of scene 
 that took place. 
 
 The commander of the echelon walks over to the sol- 
 diers who are lined up in front of the train. On the 
 flank stands a sergeant, smoking a cigarette. 
 
 "What is this? You are a sergeant, and you do 
 not know that smoking is not permitted in the line!" 
 
 "Why not.? Tut, tut, why may I not smoke?" the 
 sergeant calmly asks, puffing at his cigarette. And it 
 is obvious that what he is after is to be court-martialled. 
 
 In our car, life went on monotonously and evenly. 
 
ON THE WAY 29 
 
 We four junior surgeons were travelling in adjoining 
 compartments. The four were the senior assistant sur- 
 geon Grechikhin, and the junior assistants, Selyukov, 
 Shantser, and I. They were all a fine lot of men, and 
 we became intimately acquainted. We read, discussed, 
 and played chess. 
 
 Occasionally Chief Surgeon Davydov came to us 
 from his separate compartment. He told us a great 
 deal about the conditions of service of an army surgeon, 
 and about the disorders reigning in the Department of 
 War. He told us of his conflicts with the authorities, 
 and of his noble and independent attitudes in these 
 conflicts. In his stories one felt boastfulness and a 
 desire to fall in with our views. He had little intel- 
 ligence, his jokes were cynical, and his opinions were 
 common and banal. 
 
 The supervisor, the lieutenant from the reserve, was 
 everywhere at Davydov's heels. Before the mobilization 
 he had served as a Zemstvo commander. It was ru- 
 mored that, thanks to influential protection, he man- 
 aged to escape the line, and to be appointed as super- 
 visor of the hospital. He was a well-formed, fine-look- 
 ing man of about thirty years of age. He was dull of 
 intellect, arrogant, conceited, and hopelessly lazy and 
 inefficient. His relations with the chief surgeon were 
 excellent. He looked gloomily and sadly at the future. 
 
 "I know I shall not return from the war. I drink 
 an awful lot of water, and the water is very bad, so I 
 am sure I shall catch typhoid fever or dysentery. Any- 
 way, a Hung-hutz bullet will fetch me. I do not figure 
 on getting home alive." 
 
 With us travelled an apothecary, a priest, two spe- 
 cial officials, and four Sisters of Mercy. The Sisters 
 were simple, uneducated girls. They mispronounced 
 words, felt off^ended at our harmless jokes, and con- 
 fusedly laughed at the ambiguous jests of the chief 
 surgeon and the supervisor. 
 
so IN THE WAR 
 
 At the long stops we were overtaken by the echelon 
 in which the second hospital of our Division was trav- 
 elling. From the car came handsome Dr. Sultanov, 
 with his magnificent, languid gait, and upon his arm 
 was a tall, elegantly-dressed lady. This, everybody 
 said, was his niece. And the other Sisters were also 
 dressed very fashionably and spoke French, and the 
 officers of the Staff were always hanging around them. 
 
 Sultanov was not much interested in his hospital. 
 His men and horses went hungry. One morning early, 
 during a stop, our chief surgeon drove to town, where 
 he bought hay and oats. The provender was brought 
 and deposited on a platform between our echelon and 
 that of Sultanov. Sultanov, who had just awakened, 
 looked out of the window. Davydov walked up and 
 down the platform, busy with his thoughts. Sultanov 
 triumphantly pointed to the provender. 
 
 "So here I have my oats already," he said. 
 
 "Ye-es," Davydov replied, ironically. 
 
 "You see? And the hay, too." 
 
 "And the hay? Superb! Only I will have all this 
 put at once into our cars." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 "Just so, because it is I who bought it." 
 
 "Oh, and I thought it was my supervisor." Sultanov 
 yawned lazily, and turned to his niece who stood near- 
 by : "Well, had we not better go to the station to get 
 some coffee?" 
 
 Hundreds on hundreds of versts. The country is 
 as flat as a table, and only occasionally does one see 
 small thickets. There are hardly any ploughed fields 
 — nothing but meadows. Here and there one may see 
 the green stubble of a newly-mowed clearing, and the 
 dark hayricks and mows. Most of the meadows have 
 not been mown. The brown, scorched grass waves with 
 the wind, and the seeds rattle in the dry pods. The 
 
ON THE WAY 31 
 
 chief of a local peasant commune travelled for a short 
 distance with our echelon. He told us that there were 
 no hands to be had, that all the adult men, including 
 the reservists, had been summoned to the war. The 
 meadows were being ruined, the fields remained unculti- 
 vated. 
 
 One evening, somewhere in the neighborhood of 
 Kainsk, our train suddenly began to give alarm whis- 
 tles, and abruptly stopped. An orderly came running 
 in, telling us excitedly that we had just escaped col- 
 liding with another train. Similar alarms repeated 
 themselves frequently. The railway hands were over- 
 tired and they were not permitted to leave under threat 
 of court-martial. The cars were old and worn-out; 
 now an axle got overheated, now the cars broke loose 
 from one another, now the train overshot the stop. 
 
 We left the car. In front of our train could be seen 
 another. The engines stood glaring at each other with 
 their round lights, like two enemies who have met on 
 a narrow path. At both sides of the track lay clear- 
 ings covered with tufted reed-grass. In the distance, 
 amidst some shrubs, could be seen the dark hay-ricks. 
 The other train began to back up. Our train, too, 
 started to whistle. Suddenly I saw a number of our 
 soldiers running out from the bushes and across the 
 clearing, with enormous bundles of hay in their arms. 
 
 "Oh, there, throw away the hay," I shouted. 
 
 They continued to run towards the train. From 
 the cars of the soldiers were heard shouts of encour- 
 agement. 
 
 "Not at all ! So long as they have reached the train, 
 the hay is ours !" 
 
 The chief surgeon and the supervisor looked with 
 curiosity out of the car-window. 
 
 "Throw away the hay at once! Do you hear.f"' I 
 yelled furiously. 
 
 The soldiers threw away their armfuls on the ground 
 
S2 IN THE WAR 
 
 and, growling in dissatisfaction, crawled into the mov- 
 ing train. I entered the car, greatly provoked. 
 
 "The devil take it ! You are beginning to loot right 
 here, among your own people ! And without any 
 ceremony, in the presence of everybody !" 
 
 "But the hay hasn't any value here. It is going to 
 rot in the stacks anyway," the chief surgeon answered 
 lazily. 
 
 I was amazed. 
 
 "I beg your pardon. I can't understand it. You 
 yourself heard only yesterday what the chief of the 
 village commune said. On the contrary, hay is very 
 expensive here, and there is nobody to do the mowing. 
 The commissariat department is paying forty kopeks 
 a pud. Above all, this is looting, and must not be 
 admitted in principle." 
 
 "All right. Of course. Nobody denies it," the chief 
 surgeon hastened to reply. 
 
 The conversation left a strange impression on me. 
 I had expected that the chief surgeon and the super- 
 visor would be provoked, that they would collect a 
 detachment, and would issue an emphatic command to 
 stop looting. But they looked with the deepest uncon- 
 cern upon what had taken place. The orderly, who 
 had listened to our conversation, remarked with a re- 
 served smile: 
 
 "For whom are the soldiers taking this hay? For 
 the horses. This is a gain for the government, they 
 don't have to pay for it." 
 
 Then suddenly what had surprised me three days 
 ago became clear to me: the chief surgeon had, at a 
 small station, bought up a thousand puds of oats at 
 an exceedingly low price. He returned to the car, sat- 
 isfied with himself, and beaming. 
 
 "I have just bought some oats at forty-five kopeks," 
 he informed us, triumphantly. 
 
 I wondered whether it was really true that he re- 
 
ON THE WAY 33 
 
 joiced at having saved some hundreds of rubles to 
 the treasury. Now his enthusiasm became more com- 
 prehensible to me. 
 
 At every station the soldiers grabbed anything they 
 could lay their hands on. Frequently I could not 
 make out of what good it was to them. If they ran 
 across a dog, they would seize him and place him on 
 an open freight car amidst the carriages. A few days 
 later the dog would run away, and the soldiers would 
 catch another. I once took a look at such an open 
 car. On the hay lay a red wooden bowl, a small iron 
 kettle, two axes, a stool, and a wooden pail. All this 
 was booty. At a siding I left the car to take a short 
 walk. In the mowing stood a rusty iron stove. Our 
 soldiers were suspiciously crowding about it, looking 
 at me and smiling. I went back to my car, and they 
 were all in a flutter. A few minutes later I came out 
 again. The stove was gone from the mowing, the 
 soldiers were ducking under the cars, and in one of 
 the cars something heavy was being moved. 
 
 "They'll steal and hide away a live man!" a sol- 
 dier who was sitting on the mowing said to me 
 merrily. 
 
 One evening, at the station of Khilok, I left the train 
 to ask a boy whether I could not buy some bread there. 
 
 "Up there on the hill lives a Jewish merchant, but 
 he has locked himself up." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "He is afraid." 
 
 "What is he afraid of.?" 
 
 The boy was silent. A soldier passed by with a ket- 
 tle of boiling water in his hand. 
 
 "If we grab everything in day time, we shall cer- 
 tainly carry off the shop, together with the Jew, at 
 night time," he explained to me as he ran on. 
 
 At the long stops our soldiers built big fires and 
 made soups with chickens which came God only knows 
 
S4j in the war 
 
 whence; or they singed pigs which, they claimed, had 
 been run over by the train. 
 
 Frequently they made their acquisitions in accord- 
 ance with very sly and clever plans. At one time we 
 made a long stop at a small station. A tall, lean, 
 drunken Little-Russian, by the name of Kucherenko, 
 the wit of our detachment, was acting the fool in the 
 clearing near the train. He had thrown over himself 
 a piece of matting, and was swaying to and fro as 
 though drunk. A soldier laughingly pushed him into' 
 the gutter. Kucherenko rummaged about in there for 
 a little while and then crawled back. He was bent up 
 and was laboriously dragging a rusty iron stove-pipe. 
 
 "Chentlemen, we shall haf moosic now. Blease don't 
 pother me," he announced, pretending to be a for- 
 eigner. 
 
 He was suddenly surrounded by soldiers and by 
 the inhabitants of the station village. Kucherenko, 
 with the matting on his shoulders, handled the stove- 
 pipe as a bear handles his log. He moved his hand 
 about the stove-pipe, with a majestic and serious look, 
 as though he were turning the crank of an organ, and 
 he sang out in a hoarse voice : 
 
 "Why do you, mad one, oho, ohay!" 
 
 Kucherenko represented a broken-down hurdy-gurdy 
 so well that everybody around him, the villagers, the 
 soldiers, and we, burst into guffaws. He took off his 
 cap and passed it around. 
 
 "Chentlemen, blease gif someding to a boor Italian 
 moosician for his labors." 
 
 Warrant-officer Smetannikov handed him a rock. 
 Kucherenko perplexedly shook his head over the rock 
 and whirled it at Smetannikov, who was running away. 
 
 "Get to your cars !" the command was heard. The 
 engine whistled, and the soldiers rushed headlong back 
 to the cars. 
 
ON THE WAY 85 
 
 At the next stop they cooked soup over an open 
 fire. Chickens and ducks were thick in the kettle. Two 
 of our Sisters walked up to the fire. 
 
 "Sisters, won't you have some chicken?" the soldiers 
 asked. 
 
 "Where did you get chickens from?" 
 
 The soldiers laughed slyly. 
 
 "That's what they gave to the musician for his 
 labor." 
 
 It turned out that while Kucherenko had distracted 
 the attention of the villagers, other soldiers had cleared 
 the barn-yards of the fowls. The Sisters reproached 
 them and told them that it was not right to steal. 
 
 "What is there wrong about it? We are in the 
 Tsar's service, and we have got to eat. We haven't 
 had any warm food for three days, and you can't buy 
 anything at the stations, because the bread has not 
 been baked. Are we to die of starvation?" 
 
 "We didn't do much," remarked another. "But look 
 at those from K. They have swiped two whole cows." 
 
 "Just think of it. Let us say that you have a cow 
 at home, and suddenly Orthodox people take her away. 
 Wouldn't that be a shame? It's exactly the same here. 
 It may be the peasant's last cow that they have stolen, 
 and he is killing himself with grief." 
 
 "Well!" The soldier swung his arms. "Don't our 
 people cry? They are crying everywhere." 
 
 As we approached Krasnoyarsk, news of the Liao- 
 yang battle began to reach us. At first, as usual, the 
 despatches announced an expected victory, the retreat 
 of the Japs, the capture of guns. Then came des- 
 patches with dim, ill-omened hints, and finally, the usual 
 announcement of a retreat "in good order." The men 
 eagerly grabbed the newspapers and scanned the des- 
 patches ; it was clear that we were beaten in this battle 
 also, that impregnable Liao-yang had been taken, that 
 
36 IN THE WAR 
 
 "the mortiferous arrow" with "the tautly-drawn 
 string" had impotentlj fallen to the ground, and that 
 we were in flight again. 
 
 A gloomy and oppressive spirit penetrated the 
 echelons. 
 
 One evening we sat in the small hall of an insignifi- 
 cant station and ate miserable soup that had been 
 heated up a dozen times or more. A number of eche- 
 lons happened to come together here, and the hall was 
 filled with officers. In front of us sat a tall second- 
 captain with sunken cheeks, and near him a taciturn 
 lieutenant-colonel. 
 
 The second-captain shouted at the top of his voice : 
 
 "The Japanese officers have given up their pay and 
 keep, and are sharing their rations with the soldiers. 
 The Minister of Public Instruction has entered the 
 service as a private, in order to serve his country. No 
 one considers his life, every one is ready to give it up 
 for his country. Why? Because they have an idea. 
 Because they know what they are fighting for. And 
 they are all educated, and all the soldiers can read and 
 write. Every soldier has a compass and a plan, and 
 can give an intelligent account of the task which he 
 is set to do. From the Marshal to the lowest private, 
 all are filled with the one idea of victory over the enemy. 
 And so, too, thinks the commissariat." 
 
 The second-captain talked of what everybody knew 
 from the newspapers, but he talked as though he had 
 specially studied it, while nobody around him knew 
 anything about it. An inexpressibly stout, drunken 
 captain was making a disturbance near the counter, 
 and quarrelling about something with the keeper of 
 the refreshment room. 
 
 "And how is it with us?" continued the second-cap- 
 tain. "Who of us knows what the war is for? Who 
 of us is enthusiastic? All we talk about is travelling 
 expenses. We are driven like sheep. Our generals do 
 
ON THE WAY 37 
 
 nothing but quarrel with each other. Our commissary 
 officers steal. Look at the boots of our soldiers — in 
 two months they'll be worn to shreds. And yet these 
 boots have been accepted by twenty-five commissions." 
 
 "They could not have rejected them," our chief sur- 
 geon said in support of his statement. "The leather 
 was neither acid nor rotten." 
 
 "Yes, and then the soles drop off after the first rain. 
 Tell me, can such soldiers he victorious, or not?" 
 
 He talked loudly and everybody listened to him sym- 
 pathetically. Our supervisor looked timidly about him. 
 He felt uncomfortable amidst these bold and loud re- 
 marks, and he retorted that it was all a question of 
 how the boots were made, for he himself had seen the 
 leather of the commissariat and could bear witness to 
 it that it was excellent. 
 
 "As you wish, gentlemen," the supervisor announced, 
 in his full, self-confident voice. "It isn't at all a ques- 
 tion of boots, but of the military spirit. If the spirit 
 is all right, we can beat the enemy no matter what 
 boots we have on." 
 
 "If you are barefoot and have sores on your legs, 
 you won't beat anybody," retorted the second-captain. 
 
 "But is the spirit all right .f^" the lieutenant-colonel 
 asked curiously. 
 
 "It is our own fault if it isn't all right," the super- 
 visor answered warmly. "We didn't know how to edu- 
 cate the soldiers. You see, they need an idea; I de- 
 clare, an idea! The soldiers, and we, too, are to be 
 guided by military duty and not by ideas. It is not 
 a soldier's business to talk of ideas; his business is to 
 go silently to death." 
 
 The fat captain, who had been making the disturb- 
 ance at the counter, approached the crowd. He stood 
 in silence, swayed unsteadily, and looked with bulging 
 eyes at the men who were talking. 
 
 "Gentlemen, I want to ask you a question," he in- 
 
38 IN THE WAR 
 
 terrupted. "What is going to happen if I take a 
 crater?" 
 
 He moved his arms senselessly and looked per- 
 plexedly at his enormous belly. 
 
 The steppes receded, the country was getting moun- 
 tainous. In the place of tiny gnarled birch trees there 
 towered now mighty forests. Siberian pines rustled 
 austerely and drily in the wind, and the aspens, the 
 adornment of autumn, gleamed, with their tender gold, 
 purple and crimson colors, through the dark needles 
 of the pines. At the railway bridges and at a distance 
 of every verst, guards stood, their solitary figures 
 sharply outlined in the twilight amidst the gloomy 
 foliage of the taiga. At night they frequently had 
 encounters with bears. A few days before, they had 
 found, near Krasnoyarsk, a guard dead in the em- 
 brace of a bear whom he had stabbed to death. There 
 were no end of bears. We were told that they got on 
 the tracks at night, in order to attack the trains which 
 ran over them. 
 
 We passed Krasnoyarsk, and Irkutsk, and late in the 
 night reached the Baykal station. We were met by 
 the assistant of the commandant, and we were ordered 
 to get the men and horses out of the cars immediately. 
 The open cars with the carriages were to he shifted 
 upon the ice-breakers without being unloaded. 
 
 We sat in the small station room up to three o'clock. 
 At the counter we could get nothing but tea and 
 brandy, because the kitchen was being remodelled. The 
 soldiers slept in heaps on the platform and in the bag- 
 gage-room. Another echelon arrived. It was to cross 
 on the ice-breaker with us. The echelon was very 
 large; there were some twelve hundred men in it. It 
 contained the reservists from the Governments of Ufa, 
 Kazan and Samara, with which to supplement the de- 
 pleted ranks. Among them there were Russians^ 
 
ON THE WAY 39 
 
 Tatars and Mordvinians, mostly men past middle age, 
 almost old men. 
 
 We had taken notice of this ill-fated echelon on our 
 way up. The shoulder-straps of the soldiers were of 
 a crimson color and had neither number nor mark, and 
 so we called them "the crimson detachment." The de- 
 tachment was in charge of a lieutenant. To avoid 
 providing for the soldiers, he gave them the regulation 
 twenty-one kopeks, and left it to them to feed them- 
 selves as best they could. At every station the soldiers 
 raced over the platform and through the adjoining 
 shops to buy food. But there wasn't enough food to 
 be found for such a large number of men ; not only no 
 food, but not even boiling water. When the train 
 stopped, stocky, muscular figures of men leaped hur- 
 riedly out of the cars and rushed to the booths on 
 which there were large signs with the words, "Boiling 
 Water Gratis." 
 
 "Let us have some boiling water!" 
 
 "There is none. We are just boiling it. The eche- 
 lons have used it all up." 
 
 They returned slowly, and others, with a look of con- 
 centration on their faces, stood waiting in a long 
 row. Sometimes they would get the water, but more 
 frequently they ran back with empty tea-kettles to 
 the moving trains. At the stops they sang with squeak- 
 ing, lifeless, tenor voices, and, strange to say, they 
 sang only monotonous, dull prison songs, which re- 
 flected remarkably the general impression one received 
 from them. 
 
 "In vain, yes, in vain, in the prison I bide. 
 In vain do I look at the freedom outside. 
 Forever I'm lost, forever, I fear! 
 And time goes on endlessly, year after year." 
 
 At three o'clock a long-drawn whistle resounded 
 through the dark mist of the lake, and the ice-breaker 
 
40 IN THE WAR 
 
 Bayhdl approached the shore. To reach the landing 
 we walked along the rails and over a seemingly endless 
 platform. It was cold. The "crimson detachment" 
 was drawn up in two rows along the roadhed. Carry- 
 ing their equipment, with arms at the order, the sol- 
 diers stood motionless, with gloomy, set faces. Un- 
 familiar, guttural sounds could be heard. 
 
 We walked up a gang-plank to some kind of bridge, 
 then turned to the right, then to the left, and without 
 noticing it we were on the upper deck of the steamboat. 
 One could not make out where the boat began. Elec- 
 tric lamps burned brightly on the quay, and in the dis- 
 tance could be seen the murky mist that hung over the 
 lake. Soldiers led the excited and nervously twitching 
 horses over the gang-planks, while below the engine, 
 whistling fitfully, pushed the cars upon the steamboat. 
 Then followed the soldiers. 
 
 In clumsy grey cloaks, loaded down with bags, with 
 their arms at the trail, the soldiers kept coming in 
 endless procession. At the narrow passage-way lead- 
 ing to the deck, the soldiers crowded together and 
 stopped. At one side, on an elevation, stood an en- 
 gineer who shouted at the top of his voice : 
 
 "Don't stop up the passage-way! Why are you 
 crowding so, you devil's children .^^ Go ahead, don't 
 stop !" 
 
 With bent heads, the soldiers pushed forward. There 
 followed new men and again new men — grey, gloomy 
 figures, like a flock of sheep. 
 
 Everything was loaded, and the third whistle re- 
 sounded. The steamboat jolted and began to move 
 slowly backward. An even, oval, sharply-outlined 
 form appeared in the enormous, indistinguishable slip 
 with its high scaffolding, and it immediately became 
 clear where the scaffolding ended and the body of the 
 steamboat began. Jolting in even motion, we were 
 borne into the darkness. 
 
ON THE WAY 41 
 
 The first-class saloon of the steamboat was brightly 
 illuminated, warm, and comfortable. There was an 
 odor of steam heat, and the state-rooms were cosy and 
 warm. A lieutenant in a white-bordered cap, who was 
 in charge of the "crimson detachment," stepped up to 
 me. We made each other's acquaintance. He turned 
 out to be a very pleasant gentleman. We lunched and 
 walked the deck together. The captain of the steam- 
 boat told us of the state of affairs as regards the trans- 
 ference of the armies across the Baykal. The news- 
 papers reported that the movement of the echelons was 
 much retarded by the water-transportation, and that 
 for this reason they were making haste to build the 
 Circum-Baykal Railway. The captain affirmed em- 
 phatically that there was no delay on the Bayhdl, and 
 that it was easy to transfer eight thousand men every 
 twenty- four hours. Hej explained the construction 
 of the Circum-Baykal as due to the zeal of a high per- 
 sonage who was anxious to receive a decoration for his 
 energetic activity. 
 
 We retired, some of us in the cabins, and some in 
 the dining room. At daybreak I was awakened by my 
 companion, Shantser. 
 
 "V. V ich, get up ! You won't be sorry. I had 
 
 intended to wake you long ago. It doesn't make any 
 difference now, for we shall land in twenty minutes." 
 
 I jumped up and washed myself. It was warm in 
 the dining-saloon. Through the window I could see a 
 soldier lying on the deck. He slept with his head on 
 a bag, huddled under his cloak, his face blue and 
 pinched with the cold. 
 
 We went out on deck. Day was breaking. Dark- 
 ling grey waves rose gloomily and slowly, and the 
 surface of the water looked convex. Beyond the lake 
 the distant mountains stood out in a pale blue haze. 
 Fires were still burning on the quay towards which we 
 were going, and frost-covered mountains, lonely and 
 
42 IN THE WAR 
 
 gloomy, crowded all about the shore. Snow lay in the 
 gullies and on the heights. The mountains looked as 
 though they had been blackened by smoke, and the 
 pine forests on them appeared like fluffy soot, such as 
 one sees in long-uncleaned stove-pipes. The blackness 
 was amazing. 
 
 The lieutenant gave loud expression to his enthusi- 
 asm. The soldiers sitting near the smoke-stack 
 wrapped themselves in their cloaks and maintained 
 a morose silence. The whole deck was filled with sol- 
 diers, who crowded their neighbors and huddled under 
 their cloaks. It was very cold, and the wind was keen. 
 The soldiers had been freezing all night, and they tried 
 to warm themselves against the smoke-stacks and the 
 ventilators, or by running up and down the deck. 
 
 The ice-breaker slowly approached the quay, en- 
 tered the high, oval slip, and again was welded with the 
 intricate gang-planks and ladders, so that it was once 
 more impossible to tell where the steamboat ended and 
 the bridges began. The assistant of the commandant 
 appeared, and he addressed the customary questions 
 to the officers in command of the echelons. 
 
 Hostlers led the snorting horses down the gang- 
 planks, while engines approached the lower decks and 
 took oif the cars. The detachments began to move. 
 The assistant of the commandant and the amiable lieu- 
 tenant in the white-bordered cap were again beside 
 themselves and shouted furiously at the soldiers. The 
 soldiers again pushed each other gruffly and tensely, 
 while carrying bags and ordering their arms, to which 
 the bayonets were now attached. 
 
 "Rascals! What are you pushing for.^^ Move on, 
 
 you sons-of-b ! Why do you stop? You, there, 
 
 where are you carrying the box with the cartridges? 
 Come this way with the cartridges !" 
 
 The soldiers moved fast in endless single file. Look- 
 ing intently in front of him, came a middle-aged Tatar 
 
ON THE WAY 43 
 
 with thick lips drooping at the corners ; then passed a 
 high-cheeked hearded Permian, his face pitted from 
 small-pox. They all resembled peasants, and it looked 
 very strange to see ^them carying muskets in their 
 hands. They walked and walked, their faces changed, 
 and upon all of them lay a dormant thought, as though 
 congealed by the blast of the wind. No one paid any 
 attention to the officers' shouts and curses, as though 
 these were as elemental as the icy wind that howled over 
 the lake. 
 
 It was daylight now. Heavy, leaden clouds scurried 
 across the gloomy lake. We went from the landing 
 to the station. Whistling threateningly, engines were 
 shunting along the tracks. It was bitter cold. Our 
 legs stiffened, and there was no place to get them warm. 
 The soldiers stood or sat, crowding their neighbors, 
 with the same morose, unresponsive expression on their 
 faces, as though they were prepared for any suffering. 
 I walked up and down the platform with our apothe- 
 cary, who, with his aquiline nose on his thin face and in 
 his enormous shaggy cap, did not look like a peaceful 
 drug-clerk, but like a brave Cossack. 
 
 "Where do you come from, boys.''" he asked the 
 soldiers, who were huddling against the station wall. 
 
 "We are from Kazan. Some are from Ufa and 
 Samara," a small, hght-haired soldier replied reluc- 
 tantly. An enormous temse-loaf stuck out from the 
 tent-leaf which was tied over his shoulder. 
 
 "Is anybody here from Timokhin district of the Gov- 
 ernment of Kazan ?" 
 
 The soldier brightened up. 
 
 "I am from Timokhin." 
 
 "Really.?" 
 
 "Upon my word. He is also from Timokhin." 
 
 "Do you know where Kamenka is.?" 
 
 "No . . . no, sir," the soldier said, correcting him- 
 self. 
 
44 IN THE WAR 
 
 "Do you know Levashovo?" 
 
 "Indeed, sir, that's where we go to market," the sol- 
 dier replied, in joyful surprise. 
 
 With a sentiment of friendship that united the two, 
 they began to talk of home places, mentioning one vil- 
 lage after another. And here, in a distant land, on 
 the threshold of the kingdom of blood and death, 
 they rejoiced at the names of villages they both knew, 
 and because each pronounced these names as though 
 they were familiar to him. 
 
 In the third-class waiting-room, soldiers were mak- 
 ing a noise and quarrelling with some one. The freez- 
 ing soldiers asked the caretaker to light a fire in the 
 stove. The caretaker refused to do so, saying that he 
 had no right to fetch the wood. The soldiers scolded 
 and cursed him. 
 
 "Damn your Siberia!" the soldiers said indignantly. 
 "Blindfold me, and I'll find my way home !" 
 
 "This isn't my Siberia; I am myself from Russia," 
 said the offended caretaker, in self-defence. 
 
 "Pay no attention to him! There is a lot of wood 
 here. Let us make a fire with it." 
 
 But they didn't care to take the matter into their 
 own hands. We went to the commandant to ask for 
 firewood with which to light a fire in the station, for 
 the soldiers had to stay there another five hours. It 
 turned out that it was quite impossible to obtain the 
 wood, because, according to regulations, fires are lit 
 on the first of October, while it was now only the begin- 
 ning of September. And there were mountains of fire- 
 wood all about us! 
 
 Our train came in. It was so cold in the cars that 
 our teeth chattered and our hands and feet grew numb 
 and stiff. The chief surgeon himself called on the com- 
 mandant to ask that the cars be heated. This, too, was 
 quite impossible, because the cars are supposed to be 
 heated only on and after October first. 
 
ON THE WAY 45 
 
 "Please tell me who may give the order to have the 
 cars heated now?" the chief surgeon asked indignantly. 
 
 "Wire to the Chief Commander of Transportation. 
 If he so orders, I shall have the cars heated." 
 
 "I beg your pardon. I think you have inadvertently 
 made a mistake. Would it not be necessary to wire to 
 the Minister of Roads of Communication? Perhaps it 
 would be still better to wire directly to His Imperial 
 Majesty." 
 
 "Very well, wire to His Imperial Majesty," the com- 
 mandant said, smiling gently as he turned away. 
 
 Our train started. In the chilly cars of the soldiers 
 the usual songs were not heard. Their faces were all 
 pinched with the cold, and they sat close together, 
 wrapped in their cold cloaks. Meanwhile the train 
 passed by long piles of wood, and on the sidings stood 
 long rows of winter cars, but, according to law, they 
 could not yet be put to use. 
 
 Up to the Baykal we had been travelling slowly, with 
 long stops between; now, on the Trans-Baykal Road, 
 we did more stopping than travelling. We stopped five 
 or six hours at every siding. We would be travelling 
 ten versts, and then we would stop for hours. We got 
 so used to stopping that, when the cars began to jolt 
 and the wheels to rumble, a sensation of something un- 
 common overcame us. We barely recovered from it, 
 when we stopped again. Ahead of us, near the Karym 
 Station, there were three landslides on the road, and 
 we could not proceed. 
 
 It was still cold, and the soldiers froze in the icy 
 cars. One coidd not get anything at the stations, 
 neither meat nor eggs, nor milk. It took three or four 
 days to go from one base of supplies to the next. The 
 echelons remained without food for two or three days 
 at a time. At the stations the soldiers paid out of their 
 own money as much as nine or ten kopeks for a pound 
 
46 IN THE WAR 
 
 of black bread, but not even at the larger stations 
 could enough bread be supplied. The soldiers raced 
 up and down the villages and asked the villagers, ''for 
 Christ's sake," to sell them some bread. 
 
 At one station we caught up with an echelon of sol- 
 diers who were preceding us on the way to the front. 
 In the intervening space between the two trains a crowd 
 of soldiers surrounded the lieutenant-colonel who was 
 in charge of the echelon. The lieutenant-colonel was 
 slightly pale. He evidently was trying to put on a 
 bold front, and he spoke in a loud, commanding voice. 
 In front of him stood an undersized soldier, and he was 
 also pale. 
 
 "What is your name?" the lieutenant-colonel asked 
 threateningly. 
 
 "Lebedev." 
 
 "Second company?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Very well, I'll show you ! At every station there is 
 a noise. I told you yesterday to be careful with your 
 bread, and you kept throwing out of the window what 
 was left. Whose fault is it? There is no bread, I told 
 you. Where shall I get it?" 
 
 "We understand that no bread can be obtained here," 
 replied a soldier. "But we asked Your Excellency yes- 
 terday to take enough bread for two days. We all 
 knew how long we would stop at every siding. 
 
 "Shut up!" bellowed the lieutenant-colonel. "Say 
 another word and I'll have you arrested! To your 
 cars ! March !" 
 
 He went away. The soldiers morosely climbed back 
 into the cars. 
 
 "Go starve and croak !" a soldier exclaimed merrily. 
 
 Their train started. The pale, glum, pensive faces 
 of the soldiers flickered in the distance. 
 
 The hospital trains were getting more and more fre- 
 quent. At the stops everybody surrounded the wounded 
 
ON THE WAY 47 
 
 soldiers, eagerly asking all kinds of questions. In the 
 windows one could see the dangerously wounded, with 
 waxen faces and covered with bandages, lying on cots. 
 There was a presentiment of the horror and terror that 
 was there. 
 
 I asked a wounded officer whether it was true that 
 the Japs murdered our wounded men. The officer 
 looked at me in surprise and shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Don't ours murder them? Every chance they get, 
 especially the Cossacks. Let a Jap get into their 
 hands and they will pull out his hairs, one by one." 
 
 On the steps of a soldiers' car sat a one-legged Si- 
 berian Cossack, with a St. George pinned to his cloak. 
 He had a broad, genial peasant's face. He had taken 
 part in the famous attack at Yudziatun, near Wa- 
 fang-kou, when two hundred Siberian Cossacks came 
 down like an avalanche on a Japanese detachment and 
 exterminated them with their lances. 
 
 "They have fine horses," said the Cossack, "but their 
 weapons are no good — nothing but sabres and revolv- 
 ers. When we came down on them with our lances they 
 acted as though they were unarmed and could not do 
 anything against us." 
 
 "How many did you stab.^" 
 
 "Three." 
 
 This man, with his fine, gentle face, had taken part 
 in this miraculous struggle of the Centaurs. I asked 
 him: 
 
 "Well, as you were stabbing them, did you not feel 
 anything in your soul?" 
 
 "At first I didn't feel just right. I was afraid to 
 kill a live man. But the moment I stabbed him and he 
 fell down, my soul was all afire, and it would have given 
 me pleasure to kill another dozen." 
 
 "Aren't you sorry that you are disabled? Wouldn't 
 you like to have another try at the Japs?" asked our 
 clerk, the officer pro tern. 
 
48 IN THE WAR 
 
 "No. I've got to think now how to feed my chil- 
 dren." 
 
 The peasant's face was clouded, and his eyes were 
 bloodshot and filled with tears. 
 
 At one of the following stations, as the echelon ahead 
 of us was departing, the soldiers, at the command to 
 take their seats in the cars, remained standing where 
 they were. 
 
 "To the cars ! Do you hear ?" furiously shouted the 
 officer in charge of the echelon. 
 
 The soldiers remained standing. Some of them 
 would have climbed back into the cars, but their com- 
 panions pulled them back. 
 
 "We won't go any farther! We have had enough 
 of it!" 
 
 The commandant and the chief of the echelon made 
 their appearance. At first they yelled, then they asked 
 what it was all about, why the soldiers refused to go 
 on. The soldiers had no excuse to offer, but they kept 
 repeating : 
 
 "We do not want to go on!" 
 
 The officers tried to admonish them, and spoke of 
 obedience and the authorities. The soldiers answered: 
 
 "Give us a chance and we'll fix up matters with the 
 authorities." 
 
 Eight men were arrested, and the rest went to their 
 cars and proceeded on their way. 
 
 The train passed by wild and gloomy mountains, 
 winding along a river bed. Above the train hung 
 enormous masses of rocks and shifting heaps of peb- 
 bles. You would think that a loud cough would bring 
 all that down upon the train. On a moonlit night we 
 passed an avalanche beyond the Karym Station. The 
 train travelled over a hastily constructed new road- 
 bed. It went very cautiously, almost stealthily, as 
 though it were afraid it might touch the masses of 
 
ON THE WAY 49 
 
 rocks which almost came down upon it. The old cars 
 creaked, the engine puffed spasmodically as though 
 holding its breath. To the right, in the swift, cold 
 river, towered huge boulders and heaps of talus from 
 the mountain. 
 
 It was here that the three landslides had taken place. 
 Why three, and not ten, not twenty? I looked at this 
 hastily constructed mountain roadbed, and I compared 
 it with the railways in Switzerland, in the Tyrol, in 
 Italy, and it was clear to me that there were going to 
 be another ten, nay twenty, landslides. And I thought 
 of the colossal cost of this primitive road, which looked 
 as though it had been constructed by savages. 
 
 In the evening a number of echelons again gathered 
 at a small station. I walked up and down the plat- 
 form. My mind was filled with the accounts of wounded 
 men whom I had met, and the bloody horrors which 
 had taken place there stood out vividly before me. It 
 was dark, the clouds scudded by high in the heavens, 
 and a strong, dry wind blew in gusts. Enormous firs 
 on the slope of the hill rustled in the wind, and their 
 trunks creaked. A fire was burning among the pines, 
 and its flames flickered in the darkness. 
 
 The echelons were drawn up in close array. In the 
 dim light of the lanterns could be seen the closely- 
 cropped heads of the soldiers as they moved about on 
 their cots. They were singing in the cars. From all 
 sides were borne the sounds of songs, the voices blended 
 together, and something mighty and expansive spread 
 through the air. 
 
 "My heroes dear, you're sleeping on. 
 Amidst the storm's mad, howling breath; 
 My voice will waken you anon, 
 And call you to a glorious death." 
 
 I walked up and down the platform. The long- 
 drawn, manly sounds of "Ermak" died down; they 
 
50 IN THE WAR 
 
 were drowned by a monotonous, mournful prison song 
 wafted from another car. 
 
 "I look into my bowl and glare: 
 Two cabbage-worms are swimming there, 
 And after them, in single file. 
 An army swims in perfect style." 
 
 From the detached last car came the wailing, mourn- 
 ful song: 
 
 "As I die for Holy Russia." 
 
 And the drawling prison-song went on : 
 
 "I throw away my spoon and cry. 
 And swallow down my bit of rye. 
 A prisoner, not a cur, you see. 
 Just such a man as you and he." 
 
 Two cars ahead a sound was heard as if some one 
 had received a heavy blow upon his back, and with a 
 shriek of wild joy the boisterous sounds of "The Vesti- 
 bule" burst out upon the darkness. The shouts rever- 
 berated, blending with the whoops and whistlings. 
 Through the mighty male voices, like the swift darting 
 of an adder, came a thin, reiterated, silvery tinkling — 
 somebody was accompanying on a tumbler. They were 
 beating time, and the song was borne in a madly joy- 
 ous whirlwind in the face of the harsh wind. 
 
 I went back, and again, like slowly undulating waves, 
 arose the long-drawn, mournful, majestic sounds of 
 "Ermak." A freight train, coming from the opposite 
 direction, stopped at the station. The echelon with 
 the singers moved away. Re-echoing with a muffled 
 sound in the intervening space, the song rose, mighty 
 and powerful, like a hymn. 
 
 "Siberia for the Tsar is won. 
 And not in vain we've lived and fought." 
 
ON THE WAY 51 
 
 The trains remained standing, and then suddenly 
 something seemed to give way in the mighty hymn, and 
 the song, muffled and gloomy, was wafted into the cold, 
 windy darkness. 
 
 I awoke in the morning and heard beneath the win- 
 dow of the car the childishly merry voice of a soldier 
 exclaiming : 
 
 "It is warm !" 
 
 The sky was bright, the sun was shining warm. An 
 endless steppe stretched into the dim distance, and the 
 scorched, rusty grass swayed in the warm breeze. In 
 the distance lay the gentle slopes of hills; lonely Bur- 
 yats flitted by on their horses, and flocks of sheep and 
 herds of dromedaries were everywhere. The super- 
 visor's orderly, the Bashkir Mohamedka, eagerly 
 looked out of the window, with a broad smile on his 
 flat, club-nosed face. 
 
 "Mohamed, what is the matter with you?" 
 
 "The camels!" he replied, timidly yet joyously, while 
 under the impression of familiar recollections. 
 
 It was warm — so warm it was hard to believe that 
 those gloomy, cold, disagreeable days lay behind us. 
 Everywhere merry voices were heard, everywhere songs 
 were being sung. 
 
 We passed all the landslides, but continued travelling 
 just as slowly, with just as long stops as before. Ac- 
 cording to schedule, we should have been at Har- 
 bin long ago, but we were still in the Trans-Baykal 
 region. 
 
 The Chinese border was not far off, and in our 
 memory the recollection arose of what we had read in 
 the newspapers about the Hung-hu-tziis, about their 
 cold, beastly cruelty, about the incredible tortures to 
 which they subjected the Russian prisoners. In fact, 
 ever since I had been summoned there was nothing 
 ahead of me that seemed so terrible as these Hung- 
 
52 IN THE WAR 
 
 hu-tziis. A cold shiver passed through me at the very 
 thought of them. 
 
 At one siding our train stopped for a considerable 
 time. Not far away a camp of Nomadic Buryats could 
 be seen. We went down to get a look at them. We 
 were surrounded by slant-eyed men, with flat, cinna- 
 mon-colored faces, who watched us with curiosity. 
 Naked, bronze-colored children crawled on the ground, 
 and women in quaint head-dresses were smoking long 
 pipes. A dirty white sheep with a fat stub-tail was 
 tied to a post. The chief surgeon bought this sheep 
 of the Buryats, whom he ordered to slaughter it at 
 once. 
 
 Untying the sheep, they threw it on its back, and a 
 young Buryat, with a puff^ed face and a big mouth, 
 sat down on its belly. Other Buryats stood around, 
 looking shamefacedly at us. 
 
 "What are they waiting for? Tell them to kill the 
 sheep at once, or our train will leave," said the chief 
 surgeon to the janitor of the station, who could talk 
 Buryat. 
 
 "Your Honor, they feel embarrassed. They say 
 they do not know how to slaughter in the Russian fash- 
 ion, and they feel timid about doing it in the Buryat 
 manner." 
 
 "What difference does that make to us? Let them 
 kill it any way they want to, so they do it fast." 
 
 The Buryats bestirred themselves. They held the 
 legs and the head of the sheep to the ground, while a 
 young Buryat cut open the upper part of the sheep's 
 belly and put his hand through this opening. The 
 sheep squirmed, its clear, foolish eyes began to roll, 
 and past the Buryat's hands swarmed the pufFed-up, 
 white entrails of the animal. The Buryat rummaged 
 with his hand near the ribs, the guts flapped with the 
 short breathings, the body jerked more strongly, and 
 the sheep emitted a hoarse gurgling. An old Buryat 
 
ON THE WAY 53 
 
 with an expressionless face, who was squatting on^ 
 his heels, looked awry at us, and compressed the nar- 
 row, soft mouth of the sheep with his hand. The young 
 Buryat crushed the heart through the diaphragm, the 
 sheep gave a last throb, and its rolling, bright eyes be- 
 came fixed. The Buryats hastened to flay the sheep. 
 
 These strange, flat faces were absolutely dispas- 
 sionate and indifferent, and the women looked on 
 calmly, puffing at their pipes and spitting upon the 
 ground. The thought suddenly flashed through my 
 mind: even thus the Hung-hu-tziis will slit our bellies 
 open, calmly smoking their pipes and paying not the 
 slightest attention to our sufferings. With a smile I 
 spoke of this to my companions. They all shrugged 
 their shoulders nervously, as though the same thought 
 had passed through their minds. 
 
 This absolute indifference seemed to me most ter- 
 rible. In the cruel sensuality of a Bashibuziik, who 
 gloats over a man's suffering, there is at least some- 
 thing human and comprehensible. But these tiny, half- 
 sleepy eyes, that indifferently look through their slant- 
 ing lids at your immeasurable suffering, that look and 
 do not see. . . . Brrrrr ! 
 
 At last we arrived at Manchuria Station. Here we 
 had to change cars. Our hospital was combined with 
 Sultanov's hospital into one echelon, and we proceeded 
 together. In the order of the day it was announced 
 that we ^'had crossed the border of the Russian Em- 
 pire and had entered the territory of the Chinese Em- 
 pire. ' 
 
 Before us stretched the same dry steppes, now level, 
 now undulating, covered with rusty grass. At every 
 station there was a grey brick tower with barbicans, 
 and nearby a long, straw-covered signal-post. On an 
 elevation stood a watch-tower on high posts. The 
 echelons were cautioned in regard to the Hung-hu-tziis. 
 
54 IN THE WAR 
 
 Cartridges were distributed to the detachment, and 
 guards were placed on the engine and on the platform. 
 We all took our revolvers out of our travelling-bags. 
 
 At Uhunor Station, just as we stopped there, a Mon- 
 gol came running from the steppe, crying out that 
 the Hung-hu-tziis had killed an advance post consist- 
 ing of seven soldiers. An officer galloped into the 
 steppe, accompanied by nine armed frontiersmen. 
 
 In Manchuria we were given a new schedule, and now 
 we travelled on time. The train stopped at a station 
 only the scheduled number of minutes, and then went 
 on. It was hard for us to get used to such regularity. 
 
 We now travelled together with Sultanov's hospital. 
 The surgeons and the Sisters occupied one first-class 
 car, while the attendants travelled in another. The 
 surgeons of Sultanov's hospital told us all about their 
 chief. He charmed everybody with his wit and his 
 pleasant manner, and at times he surprised them by 
 his naive and cynical frankness. He told his assistants 
 that he had but lately entered military service, at the 
 request of the commander of our corps. He was satis- 
 fied with his service because, although he was listed as 
 a junior surgeon in the regiment, he received profitable 
 special appointments for considerable periods of time. 
 An order might have been carried out in a week's time, 
 but the appointment was given for six weeks. He was 
 provided with travelling expenses, but he stayed in one 
 spot, and did not attend to business, except that in the 
 last week he carried out his orders. Then he would 
 return home, would come to the office for a few days, 
 and there would be a new appointment. Meanwhile, 
 it appeared, the other surgeons of the regiment were 
 doing his work, 
 
 Sultanov remained most of the time in his compart- 
 ment with his niece, Novitskaya, a tall, well-built, taci- 
 turn lady. She surrounded Sultanov with enthusiastic 
 attention and care, and the whole hospital, in her opin- 
 
ON THE WAY 55 
 
 ion, existed only for the purpose of attending to the 
 comfort of Aleksyey Leonidovich, to bring his coffee 
 on time, and to get the cracknels for the soup. When 
 Sultanov left his compartment, he at once monopolized 
 the conversation, speaking in an indolent, pretentious 
 manner, with a sarcastic leer in his eye, while all around 
 him laughed at his witticism and sallies. 
 
 The two remaining Sisters of Sultanov's hospital im- 
 mediately became the centres around which the men 
 gathered. One of them, Zinaida Arkadevna, was a tall, 
 fine-looking lady of some thirty years, a friend of Sul- 
 tanov's niece. She talked with a pleasing drawl about 
 Battistini, about Sobinov, about counts and barons 
 whom she knew. One could not at all understand what 
 had brought her to the war. Of the other Sister, 
 Vyera Nikolaevna, they said that she was the fiancee 
 of an officer in our Division. She kept aloof from Sul- 
 tanov's company. She was very beautiful, with the 
 eyes of a wood-fairy, and with two heavy braids of hair. 
 She was obviously used to being constantly courted, 
 and she was accustomed to make fun of her adorers — 
 you could see the little devil in her. The soldiers were 
 very fond of her, and she knew them all, and attended 
 to those who had fallen sick. Our own Sisters were 
 thrown completely into the shade by these fascinating 
 Sisters of Sultanov, whom they regarded with veiled 
 hostility. 
 
 At the stations Chinamen in blue blouses and trousers 
 appeared. They squatted in front of their baskets, 
 selling seeds, nuts, and Chinese dainties and cakes. 
 
 "Oh, capital! ! You wantee seed ?" 
 
 "Cakee.? Five kopekee a dozen. Heap sweet," 
 screamed a bronze-colored, half-naked Chinaman, roll- 
 ing his murderous eyes. 
 
 In front of the officers' cars, tiny Chinese boys were 
 dancing, now and then putting their hands to their 
 temples, in imitation of the Russian salute, bowing and 
 
56 IN THE WAR 
 
 waiting for their pennies. A crowd of Chinamen, show- 
 ing their shining teeth, looked fixedly at red-cheeked 
 Vyera Nikolaevna, 
 
 "Shango (pretty)?" we proudly asked them, point- 
 ing at the Sister, 
 
 "Oho! Heap shango! Plitty!" the Chinamen has- 
 tened to reply, nodding their heads. 
 
 Zinaida Arkadevna came up. With her coquettish, 
 charmingly-drawling voice, she smilingly began to ex- 
 plain to a Chinaman that she would like to marry their 
 Dzan-dzun. The Chinaman listened attentively, but 
 he could not make out what she said, so he only shook 
 his head politely and smiled. At last he caught her 
 meaning. 
 
 "Dzan-dzun, Dzan-dzun.? You, lady, wantee Dzan- 
 dzun.'* Not much!" 
 
 At one station I witnessed a brief but very fine scene. 
 An officer lazily sauntered up to the car which held the 
 soldiers of the line and shouted: 
 
 "Oh, there, you devils! Send me the commander of 
 the platoon !" 
 
 "We are no devils ! We are men !" a stern but calm 
 voice spoke from the inside of the car. 
 
 Then all was quiet. The officer stiffened with rage. 
 
 "Who said that.^^" he shouted furiously. 
 
 A young soldier moved out from the dimness of the 
 car. He saluted, and, looking at the officer with fear- 
 less eyes, he answered slowly and calmly: 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Your Honor. I thought that 
 it was a soldier that was cursing and not Your Honor." 
 
 The officer blushed lightly and, to keep up his pres- 
 tige, scolded the soldier. He went away, pretending 
 that he was not at all embarrassed. 
 
 One evening a lieutenant-colonel of frontiersmen en- 
 tered our car and asked for permission to travel with 
 
ON THE WAY 57 
 
 us for a few stations. We naturally allowed him to 
 do so. In the narrow compartment, in which the up- 
 per berths had been raised, the officers were sitting 
 around a small table playing cards. Others stood 
 around and looked on. 
 
 The lieutenant-colonel, too, took a seat near by and 
 watched the game. 
 
 "Tell us, please, shall we arrive at Harbin on time, 
 according to the schedule .f'" Dr. Shantser asked him. 
 
 The lieutenant-colonel raised his eyebrows in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 "On time? No, sir. You will be at least two or three 
 days late." 
 
 "Why so.^ We have been on schedule time ever since 
 we left Manchuria Station." 
 
 "Well, you will soon see for yourselves. In and 
 about Harbin thirty-seven echelons are stationed, and 
 they can't go forward. Two tracks are occupied by 
 Aleksyeev's train, and another by Flug's train. It is 
 quite impossible to shunt the trains. Besides, the 
 whistles and the rumbling of the trains disturb the 
 viceroy and no trains are allowed to pass at night. So 
 everything is at a standstill. It would be best not to 
 talk of the disorders there." 
 
 He broke off abruptly and began to roll a cigarette. 
 
 "What is happening there?" 
 
 The lieutenant-colonel was silent for a moment and 
 then drew a deep breath. 
 
 "I saw it with my own eyes the other day. In a 
 small, close waiting-room the officers and surgeons 
 were crowded together like herrings in a barrel, and the 
 tired Sisters were sleeping on their trunks. At the same 
 time nobody was admitted to the large, magnificent 
 hall of the new station, because Quartermaster-General 
 Flug was taking his customary after-dinner constitu- 
 tional there. You see, the viceroy has taken a liking 
 to the new station and he has located his own staff 
 
58 IN THE WAR 
 
 there, so that the new arrivals have to huddle together 
 in the small, dirty, stinking old station." 
 
 The lieutenant-colonel continued his story. He was 
 apparently giving vent to his pent-up anger. He told 
 of the sublime indifference of the authorities to busi- 
 ness, of the chaos which was reigning everywhere, of 
 the red tape which crushed everything living and every 
 endeavor to work. His words boiled with indignation 
 and with hatred. 
 
 "I have a friend who is a cornet in the Primorski 
 Regiment of Dragoons, a fine, brave officer, who has a 
 St. George medal for a truly heroic act. He had been 
 out for more than a month's scouting. Upon his re- 
 turn to Liao-yang he turned to the commissariat with 
 the request that he should be furnished with oats for 
 his horses. 'We can't let you have it without requisi- 
 tion papers.' Now, the requisition papers have to be 
 signed by the regimental chief. Says he: 'For the 
 Lord's sake, I haven't seen my regiment these two 
 months, and I haven't a penny with which to pay you.' 
 So they did not let him have the oats. A week later 
 Liao-yang was abandoned and this very cornet was 
 delegated, with his dragoons, to burn the enormous 
 stores of oats. ... Or again, Ta-shi-chiau. The sol- 
 diers had been starving for three days, and to all the 
 requests the commissariat had but one answer: 'We 
 have nothing.' When they retreated they opened the 
 stores and gave each soldier a box with preserves, 
 sugar, and tea to carry off. The anger of the soldiers 
 knew no bounds and the grumbhng never stopped. 
 They walked about, hungry and in rags. A friend of 
 mine, a captain, looking at his company, burst out 
 weeping. The Japs simply shouted: 'Oh, there, you 
 beggars! Skip!' It just frightens one to think what 
 it wlQ all lead to. Kuropatkin nurses the one hope that 
 China will rebel." 
 
 "China? What will bring it about.?" 
 
ON THE WAY 59 
 
 "What will do it? The idea. Gentlemen, you see, 
 the chief trouble with us is that we have no idea in 
 this war. What are we fighting for? What are we 
 fighting for? Why do we spill our blood? Neither 
 you, nor I, nor, least of all, the soldiers, know. How 
 is it possible, then, to bear all that the soldiers have 
 to bear? What if China rebels? Then everything will 
 become clear at once. They will announce that the 
 Army is turned into a body of Cossacks of the Man- 
 churian Region, and that every man will get a share 
 of land — and the soldiers will become lions. The idea 
 will make its appearance. But what is taking place 
 now? There is an absolute spiritual lethargy, whole 
 regiments are running away. And here we have an- 
 nounced in advance that we don't want Manchuria, 
 that we have no business there. We have encroached 
 upon a foreign country, nobody knows why, and we 
 act the hypocrite. So long as we have started out as 
 scoundrels, we ought to go the whole length of scoun- 
 drelism; then there will be at least some poetry in it. 
 Take, for example, the English. When they undertake 
 something, they make things hum." 
 
 A solitary candle, which was burning on the card- 
 table, lighted up the interested faces. The bushy mus- 
 tachios of the lieutenant-colonel, with their upturned 
 ends, quivered and bristled angrily. Our supervisor 
 again felt uncomfortable at these loud, bold remarks, 
 and timidly kept to one side. 
 
 "Who is victorious in the war?" continued the lieu- 
 tenant-colonel. "Gentlemen, this is fundamental: men 
 who are united and inflamed by a common idea come 
 out the victors. We have no idea, and we can't have 
 any. Meanwhile the government, on its side, has done 
 everything to destroy all solidarity. How do they 
 make up our regiments? They pick up a few officers 
 from various regiments, they get together a few hun- 
 dred soldiers, and behold, 'the military unit' is ready. 
 
60 IN THE WAR 
 
 We tried to do a bit of sleight-of-hand before the eyes 
 of Europe ; see, all the corps are in place, and a whole 
 army has just sprouted out of the ground. And the 
 way they distribute decorations ! Everything is done 
 in such a way as to kill all respect for a brave act, and 
 to evoke nothing but contempt for Russian decora- 
 tions. Wounded officers, after having passed the tor- 
 ments of a whole series of battles, are lying somewhere 
 in a hospital. The viceroy's orderly — ^he has ninety- 
 eight of them — -walks about among them, distributing 
 bed-linen. In his button-hole is a St. Vladimir with 
 the swords. He is asked: *What did you get the St. 
 Vladimir for.^^ For distributing bed-linen.'^' Gentle- 
 men, so much is certain: over there," said the lieuten- 
 ant-colonel, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb, 
 "a gigantic conspiracy is taking place against Russia, 
 and there is only one possible outcome: Kuropatkin is 
 going to declare himself a dictator; he will arrest all 
 those men, Aleksyeev, Elug, Stackelberg; will on his 
 own responsibility make peace with Japan, and will, 
 at the head of his army, move on St. Petersburg." 
 
 After the lieutenant-colonel went away, there was 
 a long silence. 
 
 "In any case, he is a character," Shantser remarked. 
 
 "Oh, Lord, how he has been fibbing!" Sultanov said, 
 with a lazy smile. "Most likely the viceroy failed to 
 give him a decoration." 
 
 "There is no doubt that he was lying," Shantser ad- 
 mitted. "Just take this: if they really have detained 
 a dozen trains at Harbin, how is it we are travelling 
 on schedule time.?" 
 
 When we awoke next morning the train was standing 
 still. How long had it been standing.'' At least four 
 hours. It was funny. Was it possible that the fron- 
 tiersman's prophecy was already coming to pass? 
 
 It did come to pass. Again there were endless stops 
 at every station and at every siding. Neither hot wa- 
 
ON THE WAY 61 
 
 ter could be procured for the men, nor cold water for 
 the horses, and there was no place to buy bread. Men 
 were starving, and the horses stood in the closed cars 
 without getting any water. When, according to the 
 schedule, we were already to have reached Harbin, we 
 had not gone as far as Tsitsikar. 
 
 I had a talk with the engineer of our train. He ex- 
 plained the delay in the same way as the frontiersman 
 had done, namely, that the viceroy's trains choked the 
 roads at Harbin, that the viceroy had ordered the 
 whistling of the trains to be stopped at night, because 
 it interfered with his sleep. The machinist spoke with 
 the same provocation and contempt of Viceroy Alek- 
 syeev. 
 
 "He lives in the new station, close to his train. His 
 train is always in readiness, so that, if anything hap- 
 pens, he may have the first chance to skip." 
 
 The days dragged on, and we crawled along slowly. 
 One evening our train stopped at a siding some sixty 
 versts from Harbin, but our engineer insisted that it 
 would be two days before we reached Harbin. It was 
 calm. The level plain, which was almost a desert, lay 
 motionless before us. The moon was slightly overcast, 
 and the sky showed a silvery sheen through the dry 
 air. Dark clouds were gathering over Harbin, and 
 now and then there were flashes of heat lightning. 
 
 All about us was a profound quiet. The men in the 
 cars were asleep. It looked as though the train itself 
 were sleeping in this dim twilight and that everything 
 was sleeping calmly and unbrokenly. And one felt like 
 saying: "How can you sleep when you are so eagerly 
 and passionately expected there.?" 
 
 I awoke several times during the night. Through 
 my sleep I now and then heard the tense jarring of the 
 car, and then all grew silent again. It was as though 
 the train were making convulsive efforts to push its 
 way ahead, without succeeding in doing so. 
 
62 IN THE WAR 
 
 Next day at noon we were still forty versts from 
 Harbin. 
 
 At last we arrived in Harbin. Our chief surgeon 
 asked the commandant how long we should stop there. 
 
 "Not more than two hours. We shall proceed to 
 Mukden without changing cars." 
 
 We had intended to make some purchases in Harbin, 
 to make inquiries about letters and telegrams, and to 
 go to the bath-house. Two hours later we were told 
 that we should leave at midnight. Then that we should 
 not get off before six o'clock next morning. We met 
 the adjutant from the Staff of our Corps. He informed 
 us that the roads were all blocked up with echelons, 
 and that we should not leave for at least two days. 
 
 All along the road the commandants acted in pre- 
 cisely the same way as at Harbin. They announced 
 in a definite and absolutely confident manner the short- 
 est stopping-time, whereas our train actually would be 
 detained for a dozen hours, or for days at a time. They 
 acted as though, being unable to manifest any regu- 
 larity in affairs, they took delight in blinding the 
 newly-arrived men with a well-turned, positive fairy- 
 tale of how well everything was arranged. 
 
 The roomy new station, painted pale-green, in mis- 
 sion style, was actually occupied by the viceroy and his 
 staff. The small, dirty old station was packed close. 
 It was difficult to make one's way through the crowd 
 of officers, surgeons, engineers and clerks. The prices 
 for everything were exorbitant, the food was wretched. 
 We wanted to get our linen washed, and to go to the 
 bath-house, but we could not find out where to go. At 
 any meeting of scientists where a thousand or more 
 men congregate, there is invariably found an informa- 
 tion bureau for the convenience of inquiring strangers. 
 But here, in the very centre of the Army's rear, where 
 half a minion men were gathered, we had to get our 
 
ON THE WAY 6S 
 
 information from station janitors, gendarmes, and 
 teamsters. 
 
 One was struck by the absence of even an elementary 
 care for this mass of men on the part of those authori- 
 ties who had brought them there. If I am not mis- 
 taken, even "the officers' etapes," which were devoid 
 of the simplest comforts, and were always overcrowded, 
 were established at a much later time. In the inns they 
 had to pay from four to five rubles a day for a miser- 
 able lumber-room, and even then it was not always 
 possible to get accommodations. They paid a ruble or 
 two for the right to sleep in the corridors. The chief 
 field office of the military medical staff was at Tieh- 
 ling. A large number of surgeons arrived there who 
 had been summoned from the reserve, "in the service of 
 the Field Military Medical Inspector." Upon arriving, 
 the surgeons reported to him, and they were left to take 
 care of themselves as best they could. They frequently 
 had to sleep on the floors of the hospitals between the 
 cots of the patients. 
 
 In Harbin I talked with many officers belonging to 
 the various divisions of the service. They spoke well 
 of Kuropatkin, who made a good impression upon them. 
 But they said that he was tied hand and foot, and that 
 he had no freedom of action. I could not understand 
 how an independent, strong man could permit himself 
 to be bound and go on attending to his business. Of 
 the viceroy they all spoke unanimously in the same in- 
 dignant manner. I never heard a good word of him. 
 Amidst the unheard-of, painful suffering of the Rus- 
 sian Army, he had but one care — his own comfort. 
 It was generally reported that he had an insuperable 
 hatred for Kuropatkin, and that he put all kinds of 
 obstacles in his way and opposed him in every way 
 imaginable. This hostility showed itself even in the 
 most insignificant details. Kuropatkin had introduced 
 khaki shirts and blouses for summer wear — the viceroy 
 
64 IN THE WAR 
 
 hated them and demanded that the officers at Harbin 
 should wear white blouses. 
 
 The greatest provocation was directed against 
 Stackelberg. There were stories about his tamest cow 
 and about the asparagus, and how, during the fight 
 near Wa-fang-kou, it became necessary to abandon a 
 mass of wounded on the field of battle, because Stack- 
 elberg had his train in the way of the hospital train. 
 During the battle two companies of soldiers were busy 
 pouring water on the canvas over the general's train, 
 because his wife, who was with him, felt hot. 
 
 "Do tell me, have we any leaders of talent?" I asked 
 the officers. 
 
 "Possibly Mishchenko. Well, no, he is a cavalryman 
 by mistake. Oh, yes, there is Stoessel ! They say he is 
 at Port Arthur, as brave as a lion." 
 
 It was rumored that a new battle was being pre- 
 pared. Harbin was filled with mad debauch. The 
 champagne flowed in rivers, the courtesans were doing 
 a splendid business. The percentage of officers fallen 
 in battle was so great that all expected certain death, 
 and so bade good-bye to life in wild orgies. 
 
 Two days later we moved further south. 
 
 All about us lay care fully- worked fields of kao-liang 
 and chumiz. They were gathering in the crops. Every- 
 where could be seen the blue forms of Chinamen at 
 work. At the cross-roads in the villages stood the 
 shrines of the idols, looking in the distance like bee- 
 hives. 
 
 In all probability we would be sent to battle directly 
 from the cars. The officers and soldiers grew more 
 serious. All seemed to hold themselves erect, and it be- 
 came easier to maintain discipline. That terror and 
 ill-omened fear, which had taken possession of our souls 
 at a distance, now stood before us ; hence it was less 
 terrible, and put us in an austere and solemn mood. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 IN MUKDEN 
 
 We arrived. The end of the journey! According to 
 schedule, we ought to have reached it at nine o'clock 
 in the morning, but we did not get there until two 
 o'clock in the afternoon. Our train was standing on 
 the reserve track, and the station authorities hastened 
 with the unloading. 
 
 The emaciated horses, stiffened by long standing, 
 came out of the cars, stepping timidly over the frail 
 gang-planks. The company was bustling on the plat- 
 form, dragging out the carriages and two-wheeled 
 carts. The unloading lasted three hours or more. 
 Meanwhile we dined at the station in a close, over- 
 crowded and dirty dining-room. Dense swarms of flies 
 buzzed in the air, and some of them dropped into the 
 soup and even got into our mouths. Among them raced 
 martins, chirping merrily and keeping close to the walls 
 of the hall. 
 
 Beyond the fence of the station platform, our sol- 
 diers heaped sacks filled with oats. The chief surgeon 
 stood near by and counted the sacks. An orderly of 
 our Division Staff rapidly approached him. 
 "Good morning. Doctor. Are we all here.?" 
 "We are. Where shall we be stationed.'"' 
 "I shall take you there. That's what I came for." 
 At about five o'clock everything was unloaded and 
 in place, the horses were hitched to the carts, and we 
 moved on. We went around the station, and turned to 
 the right. Everywhere columns of infantry passed 
 
 65 
 
66 IN THE WAR 
 
 and heavy artillery rattled. In the distance the city 
 was outlined, and all about us fires were flickering in 
 the camps. 
 
 We proceeded about three versts. 
 
 The supervisor of Sultanov's hospital came gallop- 
 ing towards us, accompanied by the bugler. 
 
 "Gentlemen, move back!" 
 
 "Back? Nonsense! The staff orderly told us to go 
 this way!" 
 
 Our supervisor and the orderly rode up to us. 
 
 "What is the matter .^^ This way, gentlemen, this 
 way," the orderly cried, in a reassuring voice. 
 
 "The senior adjutant of the staff told me to go back 
 to the station," the supervisor of Sultanov's hospital re- 
 plied. 
 
 "The devil ! It is impossible !" 
 
 The orderly and our supervisor galloped ahead to 
 the staff. Our baggage-train stopped. The soldiers, 
 who had not eaten since the previous day, sat morosely 
 by the side of the road and smoked. A strong, cold 
 wind was blowing. 
 
 The supervisor returned unaccompanied. 
 
 "Yes, we are told to go back to Mukden," he in- 
 formed us. "There the Medical Inspector of the Field 
 Hospital will tell us where to stop." 
 
 "Perhaps we shall have to return again. We had 
 better wait here," said the chief surgeon. "You haid 
 better ride down to the medical inspector and inquire," 
 he said, turning to the assistant of the supervisor. 
 
 The assistant dashed back to town. 
 
 "The disorders are beginning, eh? Didn't I tell 
 you?" my companion Selyukov exclaimed maliciously. 
 He seemed to be happy because his prophecy was being 
 fulfilled. 
 
 Lean, lank, near-sighted, he sat on a flap-eared 
 horse, with his back bent, holding the reins in both 
 hands high up in the air. The meek beast caught sight 
 
IN MUKDEN 67 
 
 of a handful of hay in a cart and stretched its neck 
 out towards it. Frightened Seljukov awkwardly pulled 
 the reins. 
 
 "Whoa !" he drawled out in a threatening manner, 
 looking piercingly through his glasses. But the horse 
 none the less walked up to the cart, jerked the reins 
 aside, and began to nibble. 
 
 Lively and ever-merry Shantser burst out laugh- 
 
 "I have to laugh, Aleksyey Ivanovich, as I look at 
 you. What are you going to do when you'll have to 
 run from the Japs ?" he asked Selyukov. 
 
 "The devil take the horse ! For some reason he does 
 not pay any attention to me!" Selyukov said in per- 
 plexity. Then his lips, baring the gums, twitched into 
 an embarrassed smile. "What am I going to do ? Why, 
 when I see that the Japs are near, I'll get down from 
 the horse and start to run, that's all." 
 
 The sun was setting. We were still standing. In 
 the distance, on the branch of the railway, Kuropat- 
 kin's luxurious train could be discerned, with guards 
 marching up and down the platform in front of the 
 cars. Our soldiers, out of sorts and stiff with cold, 
 sat at the roadside, and munched bread, if they had 
 any. 
 
 At last the supervisor's assistant came back. 
 
 "The medical inspector says that he doesn't know 
 anything about the matter." 
 
 "The devil take them all!" the chief surgeon shouted 
 angrily. "We will go back to the station and encamp 
 there. We certainly cannot stay here in the open all 
 night and freeze." 
 
 The baggage-train moved back. We were met by 
 our Division Chief, who was riding with his adjutant 
 in a wide carriage. The old general watched our de- 
 tachment, squinting behind his glasses. 
 
 *'your health, boys !" he shouted merrily. 
 
68 IN THE WAR 
 
 "We wish your health, Your Excellency!" the de- 
 tachment bellowed. 
 
 Swaying gently on its springs, the carriage drove 
 on. Selyukov heaved a sigh. 
 
 "It would have been better if, instead of saluting the 
 'boys,' he had seen to it that the 'boys' did not waste a 
 whole day in useless waiting." 
 
 Grey stone buildings of the government type were 
 lined up along the straight road which led from the 
 station to the town. To the right and in front of them 
 was a large field. In the trodden furrows lay dry 
 stalks of kao-liang, and wet earth turned up by the 
 hoofs of animals could be seen under spreading willow 
 trees around a well. Our baggage-train stopped near 
 that well. The horses were unhitched, fires were 
 started by the soldiers, and water was heated in the 
 kettles. The chief surgeon rode off in person to find 
 out whither we were to go and what we were to do. 
 
 It was growing dark, and the air was cold and damp. 
 The soldiers pitched their tents. Selyukov, frozen stiff, 
 his nose and cheeks red, stood motionless, with his hands 
 thrust into the sleeves of his coat. 
 
 "Oh, it would be nice to be in Moscow now," he 
 sighed. "Just to have a cup of tea and go to the opera 
 to hear 'Evgeni Onyegin.' " 
 
 The chief surgeon came back. 
 
 "We shall encamp to-morrow," he announced. *'Over 
 there beyond the road are two stone barracks. Just 
 now the hospitals of Division K are stationed there, but 
 to-morrow they will be moved and we shall take their 
 place." 
 
 Then he went to the baggage-train. 
 
 "What is the use of staying here.? Gentlemen, let 
 us go over there and make the acquaintance of the sur- 
 geons," Shantser proposed. 
 
 We went to the barracks. In a small stone wing 
 some eight surgeons were sitting at their tea.. We in- 
 
IN MUKDEN 69 
 
 troduced ourselves. In passing, we informed them that 
 we would take their places there to-morrow. 
 
 Their faces dropped. 
 
 "You don't say. And we were just beginning to 
 fix ourselves up here, because we thought we were to 
 stay here a long time!" 
 
 "Have you been here long?" 
 
 "Long! We took possession of the barracks just 
 four days ago !" 
 
 A tall, portly surgeon in a leather tunic with shoul- 
 der-straps whistled in disappointment. 
 
 *'Really, gentlemen, I must say, it is impossible !" 
 he said. "You must understand, this is the fifth 
 change in a month since we've been here !" 
 
 "Comrade, don't you belong to this hospital.''" 
 
 He raised his hand and shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Nonsense! I would be lucky if I did! We, my 
 three comrades and I, are doing work fit for a dog! 
 'Despatched to be at the order of the Military Medical 
 Inspector of the Field Hospital!' And they order us 
 about ! I had been working at the combination hos- 
 pital in Harbin, and had been in charge of a tent con- 
 taining ninety cots. Suddenly, about a month ago, I 
 received the order from the military inspector, Gor- 
 batsevich, to proceed immediately to Yen-tai. He said 
 to me: 'Take with you only one change of underwear, 
 for you are going there for just four or five days.' 
 When I arrived in Mukden, it turned out that Yen-tai 
 had already been surrendered to the Japs. I was left 
 here in this building, together with three of my com- 
 rades, and the eight of us are doing the work which 
 could be attended to by three or four physicians. The 
 hospitals are being changed every week, but we stay 
 on, so that it may be said that we have been despatched 
 to be at the order of this building," he said laughingly. 
 
 "Have you not made a report about your situation.^" 
 
 "Of course we have, both to the inspector of the hos- 
 
70 IN THE WAR 
 
 pitals and to Gorbatsevich. 'You are needed here, so 
 just wait!' And here I am, with only one change of 
 underwear ! Look at this leather tunic ! I have not 
 even a cloak, for a month ago it was terribly hot, and 
 now it freezes at night. I begged Gorbatsevich to let 
 me ride down to Harbin to fetch my clothes, and I re- 
 minded him that it was his fault that I was almost 
 naked. 'No, no, impossible; you are needed here!' I 
 should like to see him gallivant in nothing but a tunic !" 
 
 We froze the whole night in our tents. A strong 
 wind was blowing, and the cold and dust penetrated 
 under the flaps. In the morning we drank tea and 
 went to the barracks. 
 
 There two generals were walking up and down, ac- 
 companied by chief surgeons. One of these, a general 
 in active service, was F. F. Trepov, Chief of the Sani- 
 tary Division; the other, a surgeon, was Gorbatsevich, 
 Military Medical Inspector of the Field Hospital. 
 
 "The two hospitals must be given up this very day, 
 do you hear?" the general in active service said authori- 
 tatively and emphatically. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 I walked into the barracks. Everything in it was 
 topsy-turvy. The soldiers of the hospital were tying 
 bundles and carrying them to the carts, while our bag- 
 gage-train came up from the camp. 
 
 "Where are you going now.f^" I asked the surgeons, 
 as we were making the change. 
 
 "Somewhere on the other side of the town, three 
 versts away. We are ordered to stay in the farm- 
 houses." 
 
 The enormous stone barracks were crowded with 
 wooden cots, on all of which lay sick soldiers. The 
 transfer took place under such unfavorable conditions. 
 And what a transfer! A transfer of everything ex- 
 cept the walls, the cots, and the sink. They took ofF 
 
IN MUKDEN 71 
 
 the linen from the invalids, and pulled the mattresses 
 away from under them. They took the hand-basins 
 down from the walls, and carried off the towels, the 
 dishes, and the spoons. At the same time we fetched 
 in the bags for the mattresses, but there was nothing 
 to fill them with. We sent the supervisor's assistant to 
 buy some chumiz straw, while the invalids remained 
 lying on bare boards. The dinner, which we had 
 bought from, the departing hospital, was being pre- 
 pared for the sick. 
 
 One of the surgeons, "despatched to be at the order 
 of the building," came in and said agitatedly : 
 
 "Gentlemen, hurry up with the dinner, for the evacu- 
 ating invalids must be at the station at one o'clock!" 
 
 "Tell us what our work here is to be!" 
 
 "You see, the sick and the wounded are sent here 
 from the front positions and from the neighboring 
 wards, and you are to examine them. The light cases, 
 where the patients will get well in a day or two, are 
 taken care of here. All the other patients are expe- 
 dited to the sanitary trains with tickets like these, with 
 the name, the designation of the disease, and the diag- 
 nosis. Yes, gentlemen, but I forgot the most important 
 thing," he interrupted himself, his eyes glistening hu- 
 morously. "I caution you the authorities can't bear 
 it when the surgeons make the diagnosis ^heedlessly.' 
 In your heedlessness, you no doubt will diagnose the 
 disease of the majority of the patients as 'dysentery' 
 and 'intestinal typhoid.' Keep in mind that 'the sani- 
 tary condition of the Army is excellent,' that we have 
 never had such a thing as dysentery, but that there is 
 'enterocolitis.' Intestinal typhoid may, in rare excep- 
 tions, be admitted, but as a rule everything is 'in- 
 fluenza.' " 
 
 "A fine disease, that, influenza," Shantser said, laugh- 
 ing merrily. "They ought to put up a monument to 
 the discoverer of that disease." 
 
72 IN THE WAR 
 
 "That disease is our salvation. At first, we had 
 bites of conscience when we thought of the surgeons 
 of the sanitary trains. Then we explained to them that 
 they should not take our diagnoses seriously, that 
 we knew how to diagnose intestinal typhoid, but 
 that ..." 
 
 Other surgeons arrived. It was half past twelve. 
 
 "Gentlemen, why don't you gather up the sick for 
 the evacuation .f^ They must be at the station at one 
 o'clock without fail!" 
 
 "The dinner is late. When will the train start?" 
 
 "It leaves at six o'clock, but Trepov gets angry if 
 they are fifteen minutes late. Hurry up, boys, and get 
 through with your dinner! Those who are ordered to 
 go to the station on foot must start at once !" 
 
 The patients swallowed their dinner eagerly, and the 
 surgeon continued to hurry them up. Our soldiers car- 
 ried the feeble patients on litters. 
 
 At last the evacuating party was off. Straw was 
 brought, and they began to fill up the mattresses. Men 
 were constantly going in and out, and the windows 
 closed badly. A cold draught swept constantly through 
 the enormous hall. The lean, emaciated soldiers lay 
 on their cots without mattresses, huddling in their 
 clothes. From a corner of the room a pair of glisten- 
 ing black eyes looked at me angrily and with concen- 
 trated hatred from underneath a cloak. I walked up 
 to the patient. On the cot near the wall lay a soldier 
 with a black beard and deeply-sunken cheeks. 
 
 "Do you want anything?" I asked. 
 
 "For a whole hour I've been begging for a drink," 
 he answered bitterly. 
 
 I spoke to a Sister of Mercy who happened to pass 
 by, but she only shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "He has been asking for it for a long time, and I told 
 the chief surgeon and the supervisor so. We can't give 
 him unboiled water, because of the dysentery aU around 
 
IN MUKDEN 73 
 
 us, and we have none that is boiled. There were some 
 kettles built into the masonry in the kitchen, but they 
 belonged to the other hospital and they took them out 
 and carried them off. We have not yet bought any 
 others." 
 
 New parties of patients were constantly brought to 
 the receiving-room. The soldiers were emaciated, in 
 rags, full of vermin. Some of them claimed that they 
 had not eaten for several days. There was a terrible 
 jam, and no room to sit down. 
 
 I had my dinner at the station. 
 
 Upon returning, I crossed the receiving-room near 
 the dressing-place. A groaning artilleryman lay 
 there on a cot. One foot was booted, the other 
 was covered with a cotton sock, soaked with black 
 blood. The second boot, which had been ripped open, 
 lay near by. 
 
 "Your Honor, have mercy upon me ! Dress my 
 wound ! I have been lying here for half an hour !" 
 
 "What is your trouble?" 
 
 "A caisson ran over my foot, and it was right on a 
 stone, too." 
 
 Senior Surgeon Grechikhin entered the room with a 
 Sister of Mercy, who was carrying some material for 
 dressing. He was a stocky, corpulent man, with a slow, 
 genial smile, and the undress uniform hung strangely 
 on the portly body of a Zemstvo surgeon. 
 
 "Well, we shall have to dress it the best way we can," 
 he said to me in an undertone, helplessly shrugging his 
 shoulders. "We have nothing to wash the wound with. 
 The apothecary can't prepare the corrosive sublimate 
 solution because we have no boiled water. The devil 
 take it all!" 
 
 I went out. I met two specially detailed surgeons. 
 
 "Are you the surgeon of the day.''" one of them asked 
 me. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
74 ' IN THE WAR 
 
 Raising his eyebrows, he looked at me with a smile 
 and shook his head. 
 
 "Look out ! If you fall in with Trepov, there might 
 be some unpleasantness for you. How is it you are 
 without your sword .^" 
 
 What, without a sword.'' This question about a 
 sword amidst the general disorder and turmoil smacked 
 of childish clownishness. 
 
 "Certainly you are attending to your duties, so you 
 must have a sword." 
 
 "Well, no, he no longer demands it," another surgeon 
 remarked appeasingly. "He has come to understand 
 that the sword is in the surgeon's way when he is dress- 
 ing wounds." 
 
 "I don't know about that. He threatened me with 
 arrest because I was without my sword." 
 
 Things went on as usual. Sisters arrived informing 
 us that there was no soap, and that there were no 
 bed-pans for the feeble patients. 
 
 "Why don't you go and tell the supervisor .''" 
 
 "We have told him more than once. You know the 
 kind of man he is. 'Ask the apothecary, and if he 
 hasn't any, ask the storekeeper.' The apothecary says 
 that he hasn't any, and the storekeeper says the same." 
 
 I looked for the supervisor. He stood with the chief 
 surgeon at the entrance of the barracks. The chief 
 surgeon had just returned from somewhere and, with a 
 beaming and satisfied face, was saying to the super- 
 visor : 
 
 "I have just learned that the current price of oats 
 here is one ruble eighty-five kopeks !" 
 
 When the chief surgeon noticed me he grew silent, 
 but we knew all about the oats. On the way to Siberia 
 he had bought about a thousand puds of oats at forty- 
 five kopeks, had brought it along with him with his 
 echelon, and was getting ready to report these oats as 
 having been bought for the hospital here in Mukden. 
 
IN MUKDEN 75 
 
 In this manner he would have made more than a thou- 
 sand rubles at one stroke. 
 
 I told the supervisor about the soap and the rest. 
 
 "I do not know about that. Ask the apothecary," 
 he answered, with indifference and almost with surprise. 
 
 "The apothecary hasn't any. You must have it." 
 
 "No, I haven't." 
 
 "Listen, Arkadi Nikolaevich ; I have had occasion to 
 convince myself that the apothecary knows full well 
 what he has and what he hasn't, but you do not know 
 anything about your business." 
 
 The supervisor was agitated and flew up in anger. 
 
 "Maybe! But, gentlemen, I can't help it! To be 
 frank with you, I know nothing about it." 
 
 "But how are we to find out.?" 
 
 "It will be necessary to look through all the bills of 
 lading to find out where things are in the carts. Go 
 and look them through, if you have a mind to !" 
 
 I looked at the chief surgeon. He pretended that 
 he did not hear our talk. 
 
 "Grigori Yakovlevich, do tell me whose business it 
 is," I said, turning to him. 
 
 The chief surgeon rolled his eyes. 
 
 "What's up? Why, a surgeon has got business of 
 his own to attend to. Arkadi Nikolaevich, go and 
 make the proper arrangements." 
 
 It was getting dark. The Sisters, in white aprons 
 with red crosses, were giving tea to the patients. They 
 put the bread down in a solicitous manner, and fed the 
 patients gently and tenderly. These splendid girls no 
 longer seemed to be those uninteresting and tiresome 
 Sisters that they had been on the road. 
 
 "V. V- — ich, have you just received one Circassian .f^" 
 
 "One." 
 
 "But his comrade is lying with him and will not leave 
 him." 
 
 On the cot lay two Dagestanians. One of them, with 
 
76 IN THE WAR 
 
 his head hunched between his shoulders, fixed his black, 
 glowing ejes on me. 
 
 "Are you sick?" I asked him. 
 
 "Not sick," he replied boldly, showing the whites of 
 his eyes. 
 
 "Then you can't stay here. You must go away." 
 
 "I won't go." 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders. 
 
 "What is the matter with him? Well, let him lie 
 in the meantime. Lie down on this other cot, so long 
 as it isn't used, but here you are bothering your com- 
 rade." 
 
 The Sister handed him a mug of tea and a big chunk 
 of white bread. The Dagestanian completely lost his 
 composure and timidly stretched out his hand. He 
 drank his tea eagerly and ate his bread to the last 
 crumb. Then he suddenly arose and made a low bow 
 to the Sister. 
 
 "Thank you. Sister. I haven't had anything to eat 
 for two days." 
 
 He threw his crimson cowl over his shoulders and 
 went away. 
 
 The day came to an end. A few lanterns burned 
 dimly in the enormous, dark barrack-hall, and a cold 
 draught sifted in through the badly-closed enormous 
 windows. The sick soldiers were sleeping, rolled up in 
 their cloaks. In the comer of the hall, where some sick 
 officers were placed, candles were burning at the head 
 of the cots. Some of these officers were reclining and 
 reading, others were talking or playing cards. 
 
 In a side room my comrades were drinking tea. I 
 told the chief surgeon that it was absolutely necessary 
 to fix the windows of the barracks that were out of re- 
 pair. He only laughed. 
 
 "Do you think that that is so easy to do? You are 
 not a military man, sir. We have no money for the 
 repair of buildings. We are supposed to stay in tents. 
 
IN MUKDEN 7T 
 
 It might be possible to take the money from the eco- 
 nomic funds, but we haven't any; our hospital has just 
 been organized. It would be necessary to make a re- 
 port to the authorities, asking for special items." 
 
 He began to tell about the intrigues with which every 
 request for moneys is connected, and of the constant 
 danger of deficits. He told of incredibly stupid sallies, 
 but here one was prepared to believe anything. 
 
 At eleven o'clock at night the commander of our 
 corps entered the barracks. He had passed the whole 
 evening in Sultanov's hospital, which was stationed in 
 the adjoining building. Apparently the commander 
 considered it only decent just to take a look at our 
 barracks. 
 
 The general crossed the hall, stopped in front of the 
 patients who were not asleep, and asked indifferently: 
 "What is your trouble?" The chief surgeon and the 
 supervisor walked respectfully behind him. On depart- 
 ing, the general said: 
 
 "It is very cold in the barracks and there is a 
 draught." 
 
 "Neither the doors nor the windows close tightly, 
 Your Excellency," replied the chief surgeon. 
 
 "Have them fixed." 
 
 "Yes, Your Excellency." 
 
 When the general had gone, the chief surgeon burst 
 out laughing. 
 
 "Do you suppose he will pay for me if there is a 
 deficit.?" 
 
 The same confusion reigned on the following days. 
 The dysentery patients ruined the mattresses, and 
 there was no arrangement for washing. About fifty 
 steps from the barracks there were four privies, which 
 served for all the neighboring buildings, including our 
 own. Previous to the Liao-yang engagement, I think, 
 it had served as barracks for the frontiersmen. Inside 
 
78 IN TiaE WAR 
 
 the privies there was dirt, and the seats were soilecj 
 with the bloody effluvia of the dysenteries, and both in- 
 vahds and well men used them. Nobody cleaned these 
 privies: they were used by all the adjoining buildings 
 alike, and those in charge of them could not make out 
 whose duty it was to attend to their cleaning. 
 
 New patients arrived and we despatched the old ones 
 to the sanitary trains. We received many officers. The 
 complaints of most of them were strange and indefinite, 
 and it was not possible to establish any objective symp- 
 toms. In the barracks they were in good spirits and 
 no one would have thought that they were invalids. All 
 of them persistently begged to be despatched to Har- 
 bin. It was rumored that a new battle was to begin in 
 a few days, and it became clear what the trouble was 
 with these warriors. And this became still more clear 
 when they began to tell us and each other modestly and 
 in detail about their exploits in past battles. 
 
 Here is a contrast. There arrived a hundredman, 
 an Ussurian, a handsome, sunburnt young fellow with 
 a black mustache. He suffered terribly from dysen- 
 tery and he was to be sent on. 
 
 "Under no consideration. No, Doctor, you must fix 
 me up some way or other here." 
 
 "There are no conveniences here. It is impossible to 
 keep the proper diet, and the housing is bad." 
 
 "You must help me somehow. There's a battle ahead, 
 my comrades are going into action, and here you want 
 to send me off. No, I want to stay here." 
 
 It was evening. A lean general with a sandy beard 
 rapidly walked into the barracks. Dr. Selyukov was 
 on duty. With eyes bulging behind his glasses, he 
 slowly moved his spindle legs through the hall. 
 
 "How many patients have you?" the general asked, 
 dryly and abruptly. 
 
 "At the present moment, about ninety." 
 
 The general silently surveyed him from head to foot. 
 
IN MUKDEN 79 
 
 "Do you not know that so long as I am here with 
 my cap off you have no right to keep yours on?" 
 
 "I did not know. I am from the reserve." 
 
 "Oh, you are from the reserve.'' I'll put you under 
 arrest for a week, and then you won't be from the re- 
 serve. Do you know who I am.''" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "I am the Inspector of Hospitals. Where is your 
 chief surgeon.'"' 
 
 "He's gone to town." 
 
 "Well, where is the senior assistant.'' Who takes 
 his place.'"' 
 
 The Sisters ran to fetch Grechikhin, to whom they 
 whispered that he should take off his cap. One of the 
 surgeons on special duty flew up to the general and, 
 standing at attention, reported: 
 
 "Your Excellency, in the movable field hospital there 
 are 98 patients, among them 14 officers and 84 of the 
 rank and file." 
 
 The general nodded in assent and turned to ap- 
 proaching Grechikhin: 
 
 "What a disorder there is here ! The patients lie in 
 their caps and the surgeons themselves walk about in 
 their caps. Do you not see that there are icons here.^"' 
 
 Grechikhin looked about and replied curtly: 
 
 "There are no icons." 
 
 "What.?" the general shouted angrily. "Why are 
 there none.'' What disorder! And you, too, Lieuten- 
 ant-Colonel!" he said, turning to one of the sick offi- 
 cers. "You ought to be an example to your soldiers, 
 and there you are lying in a cap ! Why are the sol- 
 diers' guns and knapsacks near them.'"' he again 
 shouted to Grechikhin. 
 
 "There is no armory here." 
 
 "What disorder ! Things are lying about in a heap, 
 even the rifles. It isn't a hospital, it's a bazaar !" 
 
 The general walked on, accompanied by the surgeons, 
 
80 IN THE WAR 
 
 and angry, senselessly-insulting remarks flowed with- 
 out interruption. 
 
 In going out he met our Corps Commander. 
 
 "To-morrow I shall take my two hospitals away 
 from you," the Corps Commander informed him, in lieu 
 of greeting. 
 
 "How is that, Your Excellency.? Are we to be left 
 without them.?" the inspector replied, in an entirely 
 new, modest and weak voice. He was only a major- 
 general and the commander was a full general. 
 
 "I don't care. The field hospitals must stay with us 
 and we leave to-morrow for the positions." 
 
 After long pourparlers, the Corps Commander 
 agreed to give to the inspector the movable hospitals 
 of his other Division, which were to arrive from Muk- 
 den the following day. The generals went away. We 
 were indignant at all this stupidity and senselessness, 
 and at the topsy-turvy manner in which everything 
 was done. In the face of the serious matter of aiding 
 the patients, there seemed to be an endeavor to turn all 
 the attention to the conventional attitude of store- 
 keepers. The surgeons on special duty looked at us 
 and laughed. 
 
 "What strange people you are! That's what the 
 authorities are for, namely, to yell ! What would they 
 have to do if it weren't for that.? That's the way they 
 manifest their activity!" 
 
 "They had better look to it that the patients do not 
 freeze in the draught, and that there should be an end 
 to what took place here day before yesterday!" 
 
 "Don't you know that to-morrow will be just the 
 same?" said a surgeon on special duty, with a sigh. 
 
 Two surgeons from Sultanov's hospital came in. 
 One of them was embarrassed and angry, while the other 
 kept smiling. It turned out that the inspector had 
 raked them over the coals in the same way, and had 
 threatened the surgeon on duty with arrest. The 
 
IN MUKDEN 81 
 
 surgeon on duty had started to report: "I have 
 the honor to inform Your Excellency ..." "What? 
 What right have you got to inform me? You report 
 to me, but you don't inform me! I'll put you under 
 arrest for a week!" 
 
 The inspector of the hospitals who had swooped 
 down upon us was Major-General Ezerski. Before 
 the war, he had been serving with the Moscow com- 
 missariat and still earlier he had been a chief of police 
 at Irkutsk. In that gloomy, tragical atmosphere of 
 humor, which characterized that war, the composition 
 of the higher medical administration stands out as a 
 brilliant black diamond. I shall have to say a great 
 deal more about it. Here I shall only remark that the 
 chief management of all the sanitary matters in our 
 enormous army was in the hands of an ex-governor, a 
 man totally ignorant of medicine and beyond measure 
 unbusiness-like. The inspector of the hospitals was an 
 ex-chief of police. And so it is not strange that he 
 superintended the medical institutions in apparently 
 the same manner in which he formerly had superin- 
 tended the streets and saloons in the city of Irkutsk. 
 
 The next morning I was sitting in my room when 
 I heard outside a haughty voice: 
 
 "Oh, there! Inform your supervisor that flags 
 should be displayed in front of the hospital! The 
 viceroy is coming to-day!" 
 
 Past the window flitted a general's cloak with its 
 red lining. I put my head out of the window : Medical 
 Inspector Gorbatsevich was walking in agitation to 
 the adjoining barracks. Selyukov was standing near 
 the porch, looking bashfully around him. 
 
 "Did he address you in that manner?" I asked in 
 surprise. 
 
 "Yes, me! The devil take it! I was so thunder- 
 struck that I completely lost myself and didn't know 
 what to reply." 
 
82 IN THE WAR 
 
 Selyukov went to the receiving-room in a surly mood. 
 
 Work was seething near the barracks. The soldiers 
 were sweeping the street in front of the building, 
 scattering sand, and raising a pole with the Red Cross 
 and national flags. The supervisor was present, and 
 he was now active and energtic, and knew exactly 
 where to get things. 
 
 Selyukov entered the room and seated himself on his 
 bed. 
 
 "There are as many high officers here as dogs. 
 The moment you go out you run into one of them, 
 and you can't make them out. Just as I entered the 
 receiving-room I saw a dandy with red stripes stand- 
 ing there. I was on the point of making a report to 
 him when, behold, he stiffened up and saluted. I 
 guess it was a Cossack." 
 
 He drew a deep breath. 
 
 "Well, I prefer to freeze in a tent, for here there 
 are more superiors than our men." 
 
 Shantser, a little embarrassed and deep in thought, 
 entered the room. He was the surgeon of the day. 
 
 "I don't know what to do ! I ordered the removal 
 of two mattresses from the cots — they had been com- 
 pletely spoiled by two dysenteries who had been lying 
 on them. The chief surgeon came and said: 'Leave 
 them! Don't change them! There are no other mat- 
 tresses.' I said to him: ^That doesn't make any dif- 
 ference, it would be better for a new patient to lie 
 down on the boards. When he gets here he will very 
 likely be exhausted by hunger and fatigue, and will 
 become infected with dysentery.' The chief surgeon 
 turned away from me and said to the barracks- 
 sei-vants: 'Don't dare to remove the mattresses, do you 
 hear.?' And he went away. He is afraid that the 
 viceroy would suddenly notice that two patients had 
 no mattresses." 
 
 In and around the barracks they continued feverishly 
 
IN MUKDEN 83 
 
 their work of cleaning. It simply nauseated me. I 
 left the building and went into the fields. In the dis- 
 tance stood our barracks, neat, and spruced-up with 
 waving flags ; and within were invalids, shivering in 
 the draught, dirty, and permeated with the infection 
 from the mattresses — a common woman, powdered and 
 painted, in her best clothes, and in dirty, ill-smelling 
 underwear. 
 
 There had been no transfer of patients for two days, 
 because the sanitary trains were not running. The 
 viceroy was travelling from Harbin like the Tsar, more 
 than the Tsar; all the traffic on the railway had 
 stopped on his account. The sanitary trains with 
 patients, and the trains with soldiers and guns that 
 were hurrying south for the imminent battle, came to 
 a standstill. Patients arrived at our hospital in end- 
 less numbers. All the cots and litters were occupied, 
 and they began to place the patients on the floor. 
 
 In the evening, they brought fifteen wounded Dage- 
 stanians from the positions. These were the first 
 wounded men that we had received. In burkas and 
 crimson cowls they sat and lay about, their black, burn- 
 ing eyes peering under heavy eye-brows. Amidst the 
 sick soldiers, the grey, gloomy, and melancholy soldiers 
 that filled the receiving-room, this band of blood- 
 stained men, with the air of battle and danger about 
 them, stood out as a bright, attractive point. 
 
 They also brought their officer, a hundredman, who 
 had been wounded in the hand. Animated, with ner- 
 vously-glittering eyes, the hundredman told how they 
 had mistaken the Japs for their own comrades, how 
 they had ridden up close to them, and, getting within 
 gunshot, had lost seventeen men and thirty horses. 
 "But we have made them suff'er for it," he added, with 
 a proud smile. 
 
 Everybody crowded around him, and the surgeons. 
 Sisters, and sick officers put ^11 kinds of questions to 
 
84 IN THE WAR 
 
 him. They put the questions with kindly and eager 
 interest, and again all the patients around about us 
 appeared dull in comparison with him who was sur- 
 rounded by the aureole of battle and danger. I sud- 
 denly understood that handsome Ussurian who had so 
 stubbornly refused to be sent away on account of his 
 dysentery. 
 
 An adjutant came from the viceroy to inquire about 
 the health of a wounded officer. Then men came from 
 the Red Cross Hospital and insistently demanded that 
 the officer should be transferred to them. The officer 
 agreed to go and he was carried away to the Red Cross, 
 which heretofore had contemptuously refused to receive 
 sick men from us. 
 
 In the army sick men are pariahs. They have done 
 hard work, have suffered just as much, perhaps more 
 grievously and irreparably than many a wounded man, 
 but everybody looks upon them with indifference and 
 even with scorn. They are so uninteresting. They 
 belong behind the scene, and they fit in so little with 
 the glaring staging of war. When the hospital is full 
 of wounded men, the higher authorities are zealous in 
 their attentions, but when there are sick men in the 
 hospital, they hardly ever look in. The sanitary trains 
 which belong to the department of war make every 
 effort to ward off the sick men. It has happened more 
 than once that a train would be standing for a week 
 or two waiting for the wounded. There are no wounded, 
 but the train continues to stand and block the road; 
 yet they refuse to receive sick patients, even those 
 without any contagion. 
 
 Sultanov's hospital was doing its work in the adjoin- 
 ing barracks. Sultanov appointed his niece, Novit- 
 skaya, as senior Sister of Mercy. He said to the sur- 
 geons : 
 
 "Gentlemen, do not put Aglaya Aleksyeevna in 
 
IN MUKDEN 85 
 
 charge of the hospital. Let the junior Sisters do that 
 duty." 
 
 The Sisters had no end of work to do ; they were busy 
 about the patients from morning to night. Novitskaya 
 rarely made her appearance in the barracks. Frail, 
 elegantly-dressed, she walked listlessly through the 
 halls and returned to Sultanov's room, where she sat 
 from morning till night. Zinaida Arkadevna at first 
 went to work with a vim. Proudly displaying her red 
 cross and her white apron, she attended the sick, giving 
 them tea and smoothing their pillows. But she soon 
 cooled off. One evening I happened to call on them 
 in their barracks. Zinaida Arkadevna was sitting on 
 a stool near the table, with her hands in her lap, and 
 saying in an attractively-languid voice: 
 
 "I am all fagged out. I've been on my feet all day, 
 and my temperature is up to 100 degrees; I've just 
 taken it. I wonder whether it is the beginning of 
 typhoid. And I'm in charge for the day. The senior 
 surgeon has positively forbidden me to undertake this 
 duty, he's so severe. Poor Nastasya Petrovna will 
 have to do the work for me." 
 
 Nastasya Petrovna was the fourth Sister in the hos- 
 pital, a simple, meek girl, who had been taken from the 
 Red Cross Society. She took charge, and Zinaida 
 Arkadevna went with Sultanov and Novitskya to take 
 supper with the Corps Commander. 
 
 Fairy-like Vyera Nikolaevna worked like a hero. 
 The whole work in the hospital lay on her shoulders 
 and on those of meek Nastasya Petrovna. The sick 
 officers marvelled because there were only two Sisters 
 in that hospital. Soon Vyera Nikolaevna took sick. 
 For a few days she kept on her feet, but at last she 
 went to bed, with her temperature at 104. Nastasya 
 Petrovna was left to do all the work. At first she pro- 
 tested, and informed the senior surgeon that the work 
 was beyond her strength. The senior surgeon was that 
 
86 IN THE WAR 
 
 very Dr. Vasilev who had almost ordered the arrest of 
 a supervising officer in Russia, and who the other day 
 had so "strictly" forbidden Zinaida Arkadevna to take 
 charge of the hospital. He shouted at Nastasya 
 Petrovna as though she were a chamber-maid, and he 
 told her that she had no business coming here if she 
 wanted to idle away her time. 
 
 In our hospital two supernumerary Sisters were 
 added to the four regular ones. One of them was the 
 wife of an officer from our division. She had joined 
 our echelon at Harbin, had wept all the time, and was 
 filled with sorrow and care for her husband. The other 
 had been attached to one of the hospitals of the rear, 
 and was transferred to us when she learned that we 
 were advancing to the front. She was eager to be 
 under fire, and so she declined her salary, took up the 
 duties of a supernumerary Sister, and persistently 
 solicited the authorities until her request was granted. 
 She was a broad-shouldered young woman of about 
 twenty-five years of age, with her hair cut short, with 
 a low voice, and with a heavy, masculine gait. When 
 she walked, her skirt flapped strangely and awkwardly 
 about her strongly-built, widely-striding legs. 
 
 An order came from the staff of our corps for both 
 hospitals to break up and to leave next morning for 
 the village of Saho-taz, and wait there for further in- 
 structions. What was to be done with the patients and 
 on whose hands were they to be left? Hospitals of 
 another division of our corps were to come to take our 
 places; but the viceroy's train had blocked all traffic 
 on the railway, and nobody knew when they would 
 arrive. And yet we were ordered to leave next day. 
 
 Again everything in the barracks was turned topsy- 
 turvy. They took down the wash-basins, packed the 
 medicine-chests, and were getting ready to take the 
 kettles out of the masonry in the kitchen. 
 
IN MUKDEN 87 
 
 ''How is that, please?" Grechikhin said, wonderingly. 
 "We cannot leave the patients to their fate." 
 
 "I must carry out the orders of my immediate su- 
 periors," replied the chief surgeon, looking askance 
 at him. 
 
 "Precisely. That is not a subject for discussion," 
 the supervisor put in officiously. "We are attached 
 to the division and all its belongings have already left. 
 How dare we not carry out the orders of the Corps 
 Commander? He is our chief." 
 
 "You mean to say we are to abandon the patients?" 
 
 "We are not responsible. That is the business of 
 the local authorities. Here is the order, and it says 
 there distinctly that we must leave to-morrow." 
 
 "Whatever it may say there, we will not abandon the 
 patients !" we declared. 
 
 The chief surgeon hesitated for a long time, but 
 finally he decided to stay and to await the arrival of 
 the hospitals. Besides, Ezerski declared emphatically 
 that he would not let us off until somebody came to 
 take our place. 
 
 The question arose : why all this destruction, taking- 
 away of kettles, pulling-away of mattresses from under 
 the sick? So long as our corps can get along with 
 two hospitals instead of four, why would it not be 
 simpler for us to stay here, and for the arriving hos- 
 pitals to go directly South with the corps ? But every- 
 body understood that this was impossible, because in 
 the neighboring hospital were Dr. Sultanov and Sister 
 Novitskaya, and our Corps Commander did not want 
 to part with them. Hence let the sick "holy cattle" 
 wallow for days on bare planks, without food and with- 
 out medical attendance. 
 
 But here was something totally incomprehensible: 
 for a whole month Mukden had been the centre of our 
 army; our army had been over-abundantly supplied 
 with hospitals and surgeons; nonetheless, the sanitary 
 
88 IN THE WAR 
 
 authorities did not know how to organize or care to 
 organize a permanent hospital at Mukden. They were 
 satisfied to catch the passing hospitals by their coat- 
 tails, and to install them in their barracks until the 
 accidental appearance of new hospitals on the horizon. 
 Could not all that have been arranged diiFerently .? 
 
 Two days later the expected hospitals arrived in 
 Mukden and we gave the barracks over to them and 
 moved South. We felt gloomy and downcast. Before 
 us an enormous complicated machine was doing its 
 work. In it a crack opened, through which we looked 
 and saw wheels, axles, pinions ; everything was busily 
 and furiously in motion, but things did not articulate, 
 and were moving aimlessly and in confusion. What 
 was this ? An accidental break in the mechanism at the 
 spot which we were watching.? Or was all this heavy 
 machine making this noise and bustle just for appear- 
 ances, while really unfit for work.? 
 
 In the south heavy peals of thundering cannon were 
 constantly heard. The Battle of Sha-ho was beginning. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 
 
 We left Mukden early in the morning in column of 
 route. The evening before it had rained; the roads 
 glistened with a light, slippery mud, and the sun shone 
 through a transparently-dim cloud. The weather was 
 mild and the air was quiet. Far to the south the dull 
 thunder of the cannon resounded continually. 
 
 We were on horseback. The detachment went on 
 foot. The green carriages and carts creaked. In a 
 clumsy, four-horsed hospital carriage the white caps 
 and aprons of the Sisters of Mercy could be seen. The 
 short-haired supernumerary Sister did not ride with 
 the others, but went on horseback. She was dressed 
 in male attire, in grey trousers and tall boots, and had 
 on a cap of Archangel fur. In her skirt she had made 
 a frightful impression, but in male attire she looked a 
 fine fellow. Now her broad shoulders and her masculine 
 gait appeared to advantage. She was a splendid horse- 
 woman. The soldiers called her the "Boy-Sister." 
 
 The chief surgeon asked a passing Cossack how to 
 get to the village of Saho-taz, and the Cossack showed 
 him the way. We reached the river Hun-ho, which we 
 crossed by means of a bridge, and then turned to the 
 left. Now this was strange ; according to the map, our 
 village lay to the southwest of Mukden, and here we 
 were going to the southeast. We told the chief surgeon 
 so, and tried to persuade him to take a Chinese guide. 
 Stubborn, self-confident, and stingy, Davydov said that 
 he would bring us there better than any Chinaman. 
 
 89 
 
90 IN THE WAR 
 
 We went some three versts along the bank of the river 
 to the east. Finally Davydov himself saw that we were 
 going wrong and so we recrossed the river over another 
 bridge. 
 
 It became clear to everybody that we had gotten the 
 devil knew where. The chief surgeon sat majestically 
 and glumly on his horse, giving curt commands and 
 not exchanging words with any one. The soldiers lazily 
 dragged their feet through the mud and laughed con- 
 temptuously. In the distance appeared the bridge 
 over which we had crossed two hours before. 
 
 "Now, Your Honor, shall we turn again to that 
 bridge?" the soldiers asked us, ironically. 
 
 The chief surgeon studied the map for a while, and 
 this time turned us straight to the west. 
 
 Every once in a while we would stop. The horses 
 which had not been ridden shied and overturned the 
 carts. In one carriage the shaft was split, in another 
 one the whiffle-tree was broken. We had to stop to get 
 them fixed. 
 
 In the south the cannon continued to roar like slow, 
 distant peals of thunder. One could hardly believe 
 that hell and death were there. The soul was anguished 
 and one felt conscience-stricken : there the battle is rag- 
 ing, wounded are wallowing on the ground, we are 
 needed there — and here we are aimlessly and lazily 
 circHng through the fields. 
 
 I looked at my compass ; we were going to the north- 
 west. Everybody knew that we were going in the 
 wrong direction, and yet we had to go, because the 
 stubborn old man did not want to show that he saw 
 his mistake. 
 
 In the evening the outlines of a Chinese town and the 
 curved roofs of towers and shrines appeared. On the 
 left could be seen a series of government buildings and 
 the white smoke from the trains. Among the soldiers 
 a reserved, hostile laugh arose : this was Mukden. After 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 91 
 
 a whole day's marching we had come back to our stone 
 barracks. 
 
 The chief surgeon kept out of the way, and stopped 
 for the night in a suburban Chinese village. 
 
 The soldiers pitched their tents, made fires with kao- 
 liang, and heated some water in their kettles. We were 
 put up in a roomy, clean, stone farmhouse. The po- 
 litely-smiling Chinese farmer in his silk coat took us 
 over his farm and showed us the estate. It was sur- 
 rounded by a high clay fence and wide-branching poplar 
 trees. Yellow ricks of kao-liang, chumiz, and rice were 
 to be seen, and they were threshing on the clean thresh- 
 ing-floor. The proprietor told us that he had a shop 
 in Mukden and that he had taken his wife and children 
 there ; for here, he said, he was in constant danger from 
 passing soldiers and Cossacks. The week before some 
 Dagestanians had seized his mother, a woman of fifty 
 years, and carried her off. 
 
 On the door-posts hung two bright-colored, slant- 
 eyed figures in fantastic apparel. There was also a 
 long, vertical strip with Chinese hieroglyphics. I asked 
 him what it said. The proprietor answered: 
 
 "Good to speak." 
 
 *'Good to speak" — an inscription on the entrance, 
 with the entrance gods. It was strange; and, looking 
 at the calm and polite man, I understood. 
 
 We arose at daybreak. Dimly red streaks appeared 
 in the east, and the trees were covered with mist. In 
 the distance the cannon were roaring already. Sol- 
 diers with pinched faces were morosely hitching the 
 horses. It was cold: they had slept under thin cloaks, 
 or had run about all night in order to keep themselves 
 warm. 
 
 The chief surgeon met an acquaintance of his of 
 whom he inquired about the road, and he led us once 
 more without taking a guide. We again lost the road. 
 
92 IN THE WAR 
 
 going God knows where. Again shafts broke, and the 
 fresh horses overturned the carts. As we approached 
 Saho-taz, we fell in with our division baggage-train. 
 The chief of the baggage-train showed us a new order 
 which said that we were to proceed to the Su-ya-tun 
 Station. 
 
 We moved on to find the station. We crossed a river 
 over a pontoon-bridge, walked through villages, and 
 waded through brooks swollen by the rain. Soldiers, 
 up to their waists in the water, helped the horses to 
 pull out the carts that got stuck in the mud. 
 
 Then there came fields. On both sides could be seen 
 close ricks of kao-liang and chumiz. I was riding back 
 of the baggage-train. I could see the soldiers running 
 away from the carts, seizing armfuls of fodder, and 
 running back again to the carts. Again and again 
 they ran in plain sight of everybody. The chief sur- 
 geon rode by. I sternly asked him: 
 
 "Tell me, is this done with your permission .f'" 
 
 He acted as though he did not understand. 
 
 "With my permission? What?" 
 
 "All this plundering of the fodder from the Chinese 
 fields." 
 
 "I declare! The rascals!" Davydov said, indiffer- 
 ently, but with a show of indignation, and, lazily turn- 
 ing to the sergeant-major, he added: "Nezhdanov, 
 
 tell them to stop! You, V. V ich, please see to it 
 
 that all this looting is stopped," he said in theatrical 
 tones, turning to me. 
 
 "If you mean it, issue a strict order to the soldiers, 
 for otherwise, as you see, they are not at all em- 
 barrassed in your presence." 
 
 In front of us soldiers kept running into the fields 
 and stealing bundles of fodder. The chief surgeon rode 
 off at a gentle trot. The sergeant-major, who had 
 been sent ahead, came back. 
 
 "What they took before was within the allowance. 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 93 
 
 but this Is beyond the allowance," he smilingly explained 
 the prohibition of the chief surgeon. On top of every 
 cart could be seen a heap of golden sheaves of chumiz. 
 
 Beside me our soldiers marched. They had heard 
 my talk with the chief surgeon. 
 
 "Of course, we have to take it ! What's the use talk- 
 ing about it.P Why should our horses starve .f"' they 
 said. 
 
 "The horses shouldn't starve at all," I replied. "The 
 government gives money for their upkeep." 
 
 "Yes, it gives money ! Why should we waste Russian 
 money.? What's the use pitying these Chinamen .f^" 
 
 "It says in the Bible that you may take," remarked 
 Bastrykin, a stocky soldier with the face of a scoundrel. 
 
 "Where does it say that in the Bible ? Show me ! I 
 never saw it there!" 
 
 "My Bible is torn," Bastrykin replied, smiling. 
 
 "He must have read an awful lot in it," another sol- 
 dier ventured in explanation. 
 
 Towards evening we arrived at the Su-ya-tun Sta- 
 tion, where we bivouacked to the east of the tracks. 
 The guns now roared nearby, and we could hear the 
 whistling of the projectiles. To the north the sanitary 
 trains passed. To the south could be seen the flashes 
 of bursting shrapnel in the twilight. With increasing 
 anguish we looked at the flaring fires and thought : now 
 begins the real thing. 
 
 We were ordered next morning to cross the railway 
 tracks and to take up a position at the village of Siao- 
 kii-shinpu, about half a verst from the station. 
 
 As we entered the village, Chinese carts laden with 
 all kinds of movables hastily drove out of the yards. 
 On top of the carts sat some Chinese women, hiding 
 their faces from us. Beside them walked a Chinaman 
 with a flexible shoulder-yoke across his neck, and at 
 the ends of the yoke little Chinese babies swayed in 
 round baskets. The babies were full-faced and plump, 
 
94 IN THE WAR 
 
 with black top-knots, and they sat with their legs 
 under them like little idols. The Chinaman trudged 
 along, gloomily watching the ground, while the babies 
 in the swaying baskets looked with their little black 
 eyes merrily and inquisitively at us. 
 
 Our baggage-train stood in a large square garden 
 which was surrounded with white willows. The .tents 
 were pitched. Dr. Sultanov's hospital was stationed in 
 the same village. They had arrived the evening before 
 and had bivouacked not far from the place where we 
 took up our position. 
 
 While leaving Mukden, Dr. Sultanov got into a 
 violent conflict with his surgeons. For the belongings 
 of the four junior surgeons and the supervisor with 
 his adjutant a separate cart is officially set aside, 
 whereas the chief surgeon is provided with money with 
 which to furnish his own cart and two cart-horses. Sul- 
 tanov bought neither cart nor horses, put the money 
 into his pocket, and ordered his belongings to be loaded 
 on the surgeons' cart. The surgeons protested, and 
 ordered the supervisor to haul the belongings of the 
 surgeon-in-chief down from the cart. They reported 
 the matter to Sultanov. He was beside himself, 
 shouted at the surgeons and the supervisor as at com- 
 mon orderlies, stamped his feet, threatened to have 
 them all arrested, and ordered his things to be put back 
 on the cart immediately. The surgeons were terribly 
 provoked, and were getting ready to send a report ac- 
 cusing the chief surgeon. But whom would this report 
 reach first? The Division Commander, an easy-going 
 old man, who did not want to have any quarrels with 
 anybody; then it would reach the Commander of the 
 Corps, Sultanov's patron. And the surgeons, being 
 typical Russians, were satisfied with having grumbled 
 and having been provoked "among friends." 
 
 Sultanov had somehow completely changed. In the 
 car he had invariably been kind, witty, and jolly; now, 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 95 
 
 on the march, he was overbearing and fierce. He rode 
 his horse, angrily looking askance, and nobody dared 
 to talk to him. So it went on until evening. We came 
 to our stopping-place. As a first duty it became neces- 
 sary to find a comfortable, clean farmhouse for the 
 chief surgeon and the Sisters, and they put up the 
 samovar and prepared the dinner. Sultanov dined and 
 drank tea, and he again became gentle, elegant, and 
 witty. 
 
 Our chief surgeon and the supervisor took care of 
 the detachment as best they knew how. It is true, 
 the soldiers slept in the cold under their sunnner 
 cloaks, but the fur jackets had not yet been furnished 
 anywhere in the Army. Our soldiers at least had 
 enough to eat, and everything was done to provide them 
 with sufficient food. In Sultanov's hospital nobody 
 looked after the detachment. The whole personnel 
 seemed to exist only in order to pamper and coddle 
 Dr. Sultanov and the Sisters. The detachment froze 
 and went without food, and was obliged to look out for 
 itself. The soldiers grumbled, but Sultanov looked 
 upon their complaints with naive and cynical good- 
 nature. At one time the senior surgeon, Vasilev, came 
 to him with a complaint against a soldier of the detach- 
 ment. Vasilev had been giving some command when 
 a soldier blurted out to him: 
 
 "All you know how to do is to command ! You don't 
 feed us, in the night we freeze, and yet you want us 
 to carry out orders !" 
 
 Sultanov frowned contemptuously. The aff^air hap- 
 pened in the evening, after he had had a good dinner, 
 and when he was in good spirits. 
 
 "Oh, just leave them alone ! God be with them ! To 
 tell the truth, they are right. We ride on horseback 
 and they walk. When we arrive, the first thing we do 
 is to find a farmhouse for ourselves and to order dinner 
 and tea, while they are tired and hungry. I sent 
 
96 IN THE WAR 
 
 somebody to get some meat for them, but they didn't 
 get anything, only enough for a beef-steak for us. If 
 we walked, starved, and froze with them, they would 
 be carrying out our orders." 
 
 A day, two, three, passed. We were perplexed be- 
 yond measure. All along the front the guns roared 
 madly, and past us went transports with wounded. 
 And yet we received no order to encamp with our hos- 
 pitals. The tents, instruments, and the dressing-ma- 
 terials lay peacefully packed away in the carts. On 
 the railway sidings stood other hospitals, for the most 
 part also packed up. What did all this mean? There 
 were rumors that twenty thousand men had dropped 
 from the lines, that Sha-ho Brook was flowing red with 
 blood, and here we were, dozens of surgeons, sitting 
 with our hands folded and with nothing to do. 
 
 Not very far from us fighting was going on at 
 full blast. Rapid rifle fire was heard constantly. On 
 the roads infantry divisions and artillery parks moved 
 along, or dust-covered Cossacks galloped. Something 
 terrible, very near to us, was taking place ; everybody 
 was busy and in a hurry — but we remained inactive, 
 and strangers to everything. We rode down to the 
 positions, watched the fighting from nearby, and ex- 
 perienced the sharp sensation of being under fire. But 
 even this sensation left a bad taste in the mouth, be- 
 cause it was stupid to court danger for nothing what- 
 soever. 
 
 Our detachment was perplexed. Like us, they ex- 
 perienced the same lonely feeling of compulsory in- 
 activity. The soldiers went beyond the village to look 
 at the fight, eagerly asked the passing Cossacks for 
 news, and vividly and excitedly told us the rumors 
 about the progress of the battle. 
 
 Once three soldiers of our detachment came to the 
 supervisor and announced to him that they wanted tp 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 97 
 
 be transferred to the line. The chief surgeon and the 
 supervisor were surprised; they had frequently during 
 the journey threatened offending soldiers with a trans- 
 fer to the line, because they saw in this a terrible pun- 
 ishment, and here the soldiers themselves were asking 
 to be sent there. 
 
 All three of them were fine young fellows. As I 
 said before, in the regiments of our corps there were 
 very many middle-aged men, who were oppressed by 
 ailments and by cares for their large families. But 
 our hospital detachments consisted for the greater 
 part of young, strong, sturdy soldiers, who did the 
 comparatively easy duties of grooms, caretakers, and 
 servants. The distribution was made by means of 
 documents, and in these documents you could not tell 
 these Ivanovs, Petrovs, and Antonovs, one from the 
 other. 
 
 The supervisor tried to dissuade the soldiers, and 
 then he said that he would send their petition to the 
 staff. Most surprised at their request was our cleik, 
 the military supernumerary official Bruk, a nice-look- 
 ing and appallingly cowardly boy. 
 
 "But it is much quieter here," he insisted. "What 
 is going to happen there ? They will kill you, and you 
 will leave a family behind !" 
 
 "Never mind, all I have is a wife. If they kill me, 
 she'll marry another." 
 
 Thus spoke a tall fellow with a hoarse, low voice, 
 an ex-grenadier. His face looked stern and intro- 
 spective, as though he were peering at something in 
 his soul, something big and important. 
 
 **But if you are wounded ! If you lose both your 
 legs, and are left a cripple for the rest of your 
 life!" 
 
 "What of it?" He was silent for a moment, and 
 then slowly added : "Perhaps I want to suffer." 
 
 Bruk looked in perplexity at him. 
 
98 IN THE WAR 
 
 "The line is a holy thing," another soldier re- 
 marked. 
 
 "But our business is still more holy," Bruk retorted 
 in a falsetto voice. "To aid our wounded brothers, by 
 our care and love to alleviate their terrible suffer- 
 ing. . . ." 
 
 "Not at all ! It's all the same rigmarole ! But over 
 there they are shooting, others are fighting, and what 
 are we doing? Nobody cares to look at us. Even at 
 reviews some general, or the Tsar himself, looking at 
 us, says, 'Oh, well, they are not of the line,' and rides 
 past us." 
 
 On the twenty-ninth of September the firing in- 
 creased in intensity. The guns roared without in- 
 terruption, and along the positions it sounded as though 
 enormous cupboards were tumbling over each other 
 with a thundering noise. The projectiles flew into the 
 distance with a whistling screech, and these screeches 
 blended together and howled like a hurricane. The 
 rifle fire crackled constantly. There were rumors that 
 the Japanese had outflanked our right wing and were 
 ready to break through the centre. Soldier orderlies 
 on horseback kept riding up to us and asking us 
 whether we did not know where such-and-such a staff 
 was. We did not know. One soldier shrugged his 
 shoulders in gloomy pensiveness, saying: 
 
 "What shall I do now.? I was sent by the com- 
 mander with a special despatch; I have been riding 
 since morning, and nobody can direct me." 
 
 He rode on dispiritedly, not knowing whither to go. 
 
 Towards evening we received from the Staff of the 
 Corps the order for the two hospitals to proceed south 
 immediately, and to stop and encamp at the Sha-ho 
 Station. The carts were hurriedly loaded, and the 
 horses hitched to them. The sun was setting. To the 
 south, not more than a verst away, the flashes of the 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 99 
 
 Japanese shrapnel burst in clusters and the rifle detona- 
 tions cracked all the time. We were supposed to go 
 straight there. 
 
 Sultanov, angry and confused, was sitting in his 
 farmhouse and trying to find the Sha-ho Station on 
 the map. It was the second station on the railway, 
 but in his excitement Sultanov could not find it. He 
 angrily cursed the authorities. 
 
 "The devil knows what this is ! According to law, 
 the movable field hospitals are supposed to be sta- 
 tioned eight versts from the positions, and we are sent 
 right to the firing-line." 
 
 It was really impossible to see what our hospitals 
 could do in that hell which was glistening and rumbling 
 in the distance. We surgeons gave each other our 
 home addresses, so that, in case of danger, our families 
 might be informed. 
 
 The projectiles tore by, the rifle fire rattled. On 
 the soul fell both dread and joy, as though wings had 
 grown out, and suddenly it became clear why the sol- 
 diers had asked to be transferred to the line. The 
 "Boy-Sister" sat on her horse, with a blanket in place 
 of a saddle, and with eager, rapacious eyes looked into 
 the misty distance, where the shrapnel burst more and 
 more brightly. 
 
 "Shall we blunder again, and not get to the right 
 place?" she said, agitatedly. "Gentlemen, persuade 
 the chief surgeon to take a guide." 
 
 "We blundered in daytime, so what will it be at 
 night?" Selyukov said, ominously, heaving a sigh. 
 "And the horses are fresh and timid. When the first 
 projectile falls, they will run away with the whole bag- 
 gage-train." 
 
 We moved towards the railway and followed the 
 track to the south. Telegraph posts, broken to splin- 
 ters, lay all about, and the wires were down and in a 
 tangle. We were overtaken by a Cossack, who handed 
 
100 IN THE WAR 
 
 packages to the two chief surgeons. They were orders 
 from the corps. The hospitals were commanded to 
 pack up immediately, to leave Sha-ho Station — it was 
 assumed that we were already there — and to return 
 to our former camping place at Su-ya-tun. 
 
 In good spirits we all turned back. Only the "Boy- 
 Sister" was grieved and ready to cry from annoyance. 
 She kept turning around and looking with burning, 
 sorrowful eyes at the distance, which was seething with 
 battle. 
 
 We pitched our tents and ate our supper. It was a 
 warm, calm evening. A dark, smoky cloud veiled the 
 horizon, and the stars shone dimly. The fighting did 
 not stop. In the night a thunder-storm burst upon us. 
 The thunder rattled violently, and streaks of lightning 
 cut through the air. And the projectiles continued 
 to whistle by into the dark distance. The guns roared, 
 interrupting the rumbling of the thunder. The rifle 
 fire crackled feverishly and spasmodically. Heaven 
 and earth blended together and whirled around in roar- 
 ing, flashing madness. Through the sheets of rain 
 dark columns of soldiers moved along the road, and 
 the bayonets glittered in the flashes of lightning like 
 streaks of fire. 
 
 Again a day, a second, and third, passed. The 
 fighting continued, and we still stood packed up. What 
 was this ? Had they forgotten us ? No. At Ugolnaya 
 Station, on the sidings, everywhere, stood field hos- 
 pitals, and they, too, were packed up. The sur- 
 geons yawned, almost died of ennui, and played 
 cards. 
 
 It began to rain, and we moved from the tents to a 
 Chinese farmhouse. We were crowded and uncom- 
 fortable, and the Sisters were placed in a corner of the 
 room. At night they screened themselves from us with 
 shawls. From Sultanov's hospital the surgeons and 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 101 
 
 the Sisters came to visit us, all except Sultanov's niece, 
 Novitskaya, who never left her farmhouse. But 
 Zinaida Arkadevna called on us very frequently. Ele- 
 gantly attired, coquetting with her snow-white apron 
 and red cross, she told us that the commander of such- 
 and-such a division had dined with them, and that "our 
 dear Sergyey Pavlovich" (the Corps Commander) had 
 visited them on such-and-such a day. Zinaida Arkadev- 
 na recalled Moscow and drew a deep sigh. 
 
 "Oh, Lord, how I would enjoy a chicken-pie just 
 now !" she said, in her charming, affected drawl. "I am 
 just crazy to have a bite of it!" 
 
 Selyukov gloomily replied: 
 
 "Well, that isn't so terrible as yet, but just wait 
 until the time when you will be crazy for a piece of 
 black bread." 
 
 "Yes, a chicken-pie, and some champagne," Zinaida 
 Arkadevna said, meditatively. 
 
 The conversation turned to the rumors that the hos- 
 pital surgeons and the Sisters were about to be ordered 
 to the dressing-stations. 
 
 "Well, you do not frighten me. I am a fatalist," 
 Zinaida Arkadevna remarked. But it was only the 
 evening before that our Sisters had laughingly told 
 us how Zinaida Arkadevna and Novitskaya had been 
 disturbed by these rumors, and had declared that, let 
 others think what they might, they saw no reason for 
 going right under fire. 
 
 Zinaida Arkadevna says good-bye and is about to 
 walk off. In the comer, half-concealed in the shadow, 
 sits our senior Sister. 
 
 "Oh, I haven't said good-bye to you! Good-bye!" 
 Zinaida Arkadevna exclaims, good-naturedly. 
 
 "We are insignificant people ; it is easy not to notice 
 us," the Sister replies, reservedly. 
 
 "Not at all! You are always in uniform, in caps 
 and dresses, so that you can be noticed at once. Not 
 
102 IN THE WAR 
 
 at all like us revolutionaries," Zinaida Arkadevna re- 
 plies, with a smile. 
 
 In our village and all around the village they were 
 looting on a large scale. They gathered from the fields 
 stacks of kao-liang, chumiz, and butter-beans, they 
 dragged away from the Chinese everything they could 
 lay their hands on. Excited Chinamen kept coming to 
 us and begging us to protect them. We did what we 
 could, but of course it was only a drop in the bucket. 
 It was nobody's duty to protect the Chinese, the 
 Chinese themselves were helpless, and the impunity 
 of looting intoxicated and turned the soldiers' heads. 
 One morning, upon arising, I heard under the window 
 Russian and Chinese cries — the chief surgeon shouted 
 hurriedly : 
 
 "Hold them, hold them!" 
 
 I jumped out of doors. The supervisor stood at the 
 gate and angrily repeated: 
 
 "The devil take it ! The devil take it !" 
 
 Across the field, over balks of kao-liang, were run- 
 ning the chief surgeon, a few of our soldiers. Chinamen, 
 and an old Chinese woman, the proprietress of our 
 farm. I ran after them. 
 
 From the Chinese graves two Cossacks were gallop- 
 ing, sheathing their sabres as they fled. Our soldiers 
 were holding a pale artilleryman by the arm, and before 
 them stood the chief surgeon. Near a conical grave a 
 lean black sow lay panting. From under her left 
 shoulder flowed dark blood. 
 
 "Oh, you, son-of-a-b — — !" the chief surgeon cried, 
 excitedly. "Have him arrested!" 
 
 We walked back. The Chinamen carried away the 
 dying pig. The supervisor came up, and soldiers from 
 our detachment gathered in a crowd. 
 
 "Where do you belong?" the chief surgeon asked 
 sternly. 
 
 "To the Artillery Brigade," the prisoner replied. 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 103 
 
 On his frightened, pale face stood out a sandy mus- 
 tache, and copious freckles, and the folds of his cloak 
 were covered with blood. "Your Honor, permit me to 
 tell you that it wasn't I. I only passed by. Just 
 look at it!" He took his sword out of the sheath and 
 showed it to the surgeon. "Please look at it. There 
 is no blood on it." 
 
 "But how did it get the clay on it.'' Why did you 
 take out your sword.?" 
 
 "They asked me to help them.^' 
 
 "Who are they.?" 
 
 "I can't tell you." 
 
 "Very well. Then you alone will be placed under 
 arrest. Take him away! Arkadi Nikolaevich, make 
 a report about him," Davydov said, turning to the 
 supervisor. 
 
 "Your Honor, please let me go. His Honor Captain 
 Verevkin is waiting for me." 
 
 "Let him wait! I hope he did not send you out 
 to steal ! Rascals ! Worse than robbers ! Do you not 
 know that the Chinamen are peaceable people and that 
 no one is allowed to rob them.?" 
 
 The half-butchered pig lay at the gate, and our 
 soldiers crowded around it. 
 
 "Gee, but she's lean! It wasn't worth the while!" 
 Kucherenko drawled out. "If she had only been 
 fat!" 
 
 All looked sympathetically at the prisoner. He was 
 taken away, and the soldiers scattered. 
 
 "Superb! That's the way it ought to be done!" I 
 purposely said in a loud voice. "This will be a lesson 
 to others !" 
 
 " 'A lesson!' How can we help robbing?" a hostler 
 replied, sourly. "All our horses would starve, and 
 there would be no fuel with which to start the jfires. 
 You see the horses over there, eating rice straw.? It's 
 all stolen ! The horses are furnished two pecks of oats. 
 
104 IN THE WAR 
 
 and no horse can get enough out of that ! They will all 
 starve !" 
 
 "Let them starve !'* said I. "That's none of your 
 business ! That is the business of the authorities. All 
 you have to do is to feed the horses, and not to supply 
 the provender." 
 
 The soldier smiled. 
 
 "Yes, sir. When, during the march, the wagons 
 stuck in the river, we were all driven into the water 
 to help the horses out. How many of us men got the 
 fever! Why? Because the horses had no strength. 
 No, Your Honor, you are wrong about it. No swiping, 
 no eating!" 
 
 "The senior surgeon is scolding the artilleryman and 
 says that he will have him court-martialled," another 
 remarked. "But what did he tell us ? Grab, boys, says 
 he, all you can, only see to it that I don't notice it! 
 Why does he not threaten us with the court-martial?" 
 
 "It's good business for him, if we loot. For ex- 
 ample, let me get into the hands of the captain who 
 sent that artilleryman here. He would immediately 
 
 say: 'Oh, you robber, son-of-a-b ! Do you not 
 
 know that they are peaceable citizens? Court-martial 
 him!'" 
 
 The soldiers laughed and I was silent, because they 
 were in the right. 
 
 Our landlord, a young Chinaman with a fine, sunburnt 
 face, thanked the chief surgeon warmly for his protec- 
 tion, and presented him with a pair of exquisitely em- 
 broidered Chinese slippers. Davydov laughed, patted 
 the Chinaman on his shoulder, and said, "Shango 
 (good) !" In the evening, our clerk told us, he asked 
 the landlord to sign his name to a paper. In this paper 
 it said that the signer had sold to our hospital so many 
 puds of kao-liang seed and rice straw, having received 
 in full such and such a sum. The Chinaman was fright- 
 ened and began to refuse. 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 105 
 
 "Very well, then don't sign your own name, sign any 
 other name; it doesn't make any difference," said the 
 chief surgeon. 
 
 This the Chinaman agreed to do, and he received, 
 as a reward, a ruble, while our office was enriched by 
 means of an "auditing document" to the sum of 617 
 rubles, 75 kopeks — forged documents are not fond of 
 round numbers. 
 
 With every day the looting in our village assumed 
 greater proportions. The soldiers and Cossacks car- 
 ried off the candlesticks and . censors from the shrine, 
 and smashed the clay gods. It was rumored that the 
 hearts of the gods were made of gold, and the soldiers 
 were trying to find these golden hearts. From the 
 farmhouses and yards they carried off frames, boxes^ 
 ploughs and doors, with which to start their fires. The 
 Chinamen, in despair, let it all be done, did not run for 
 help, and did not close their gates. Like bronze figures, 
 they silently stood at the doors and looked at the 
 entering and leaving looters. 
 
 They brought to our village from the positions three 
 Hung-hu-tziis. At daybreak the dragoons took them 
 behind the fence and cut their heads off. Our landlord 
 informed us that these three Chinamen were not Hung- 
 hu-tziis at all, but peasants from a neighboring village, 
 and "heap good" men. Their capital punishment had 
 a powerful effect upon the Chinamen. Their faces be- 
 came even more dispassionate and more immovable, and 
 next morning they all disappeared from the village. 
 Our landlord, too, went off with his old mother. His 
 wife and children had been sent to Mukden before our 
 arrival. 
 
 On leaving, he smiled politely and kindly as ever, 
 listening and trying to understand what he was being 
 told. He went away with the old woman, taking only 
 the most precious things with him. But even before 
 his departure our soldiers had been rummaging through 
 
106 IN THE WAR 
 
 that half of the house which they occupied. When the 
 Chinese left, the soldiers filled the farmhouse like flies 
 in a glass trap. To our remonstrances the supervisor 
 answered that he was under no obligation to protect 
 the property of those who had left, that they had 
 turned nothing over to him, and that he had no guards 
 for protection. Indeed, there was nothing that could 
 be said against it. 
 
 The soldiers swarmed in the farmhouse all day. In 
 the vestibule, between clay vats, called "kanha," lay 
 all kinds of lumber, cups, and a queer looking hatchet. 
 On the floor of the house lay trunks and cupboards 
 which had been broken open by the soldiers, and a red, 
 carved image-box, which had been torn from under 
 some idols on the wall. 
 
 A sentry, who had just done duty, entered the farm- 
 house, wearing a Chinese cotton cloak over his over- 
 coat. These cloaks took the place of fur jackets, which 
 had not yet been provided for the soldiers. 
 
 "Boys, you had better look under ground, in the 
 cellars," he advised our soldiers; and, noticing me, he 
 sternly added, "Maybe guns are concealed there." 
 
 A soldier merrily dropped down from the loft, throw- 
 ing a whole mass of Chinese slippers on the floor. The 
 other soldiers began to carry them off. Some went 
 into the yard and dug up a dirt-heap near the fence. 
 They found a door to the cellar, and from there they 
 fetched a chaff-cutter and a spade, and hurriedly began 
 to throw the dirt back on the door. 
 
 "There is nothing more there," they said purposely, 
 in loud voices, but it was obvious that they intended 
 to come later, in order to rummage through the cellar 
 at their ease. 
 
 At dusk I again entered the farmhouse. Nobody 
 was there. The clay vat had for some reason been 
 turned upside down and smashed, and in the vestibule 
 stood clotted puddles of leavened kao-liang., Jllvery- 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 107 
 
 where could be seen white fragments of broken dishes, 
 and torn nets and seines. It made me sad to look at 
 it : all this trash was hardly worth anything, but it had 
 cost so much labor to get it together, and now that it 
 was all destroyed it would cost no end of labor to 
 replace it. 
 
 The sky was clear. Venus shone brightly in the west. 
 Tall, stately poplars rose behind the fence. A cricket 
 quietly chirped in a black crack of the oven, from which 
 the kettle had been removed. In the field were the 
 homeless dogs. All about us was calm ruin and pensive 
 decline. The air began to take on a silvery sheen in the 
 moonlight, and the poplars stood motionless. One 
 could not help thinking what a peaceful life the exiles 
 had been living here. On the doorposts were the 
 strange, colored figures of the entrance gods, and the 
 vertical strips of paper with the queer inscriptions. I 
 remembered how, during the march, a Chinaman had 
 explained to me the inscription, as saying: 
 
 "Good to speak.' 
 
 1, '9 
 
 On the first of October we received the order to pitch 
 the hospital at once and prepare for the reception of 
 the wounded. The work went on all day long. They 
 placed three enormous tents, filled the mattresses with 
 straw, and organized the operating-room and the drug- 
 store. 
 
 Next evening they brought the first transport of 
 the wounded, during a pouring rainstorm. They took 
 the wet, shivering, bleeding men out of the shaky two- 
 wheeled carts, and carried them into the tents. Our 
 soldiers, who were tired of inactivity, worked joyfully 
 and with a vim. They gently raised the wounded, 
 placed them on the litters, and carried them into the 
 tents. 
 
 They brought in a soldier wounded by a Shimose 
 shrapnel. His face was like a mass of bloody flesh, 
 
108 IN THE WAR 
 
 both his hands were crushed, and his whole body was 
 burned. Those who were wounded in the abdomen 
 were groaning. On the straw lay a young soldier with 
 a childish face, whose hip was broken. When they 
 touched him, he began to weep pitifully and captiously, 
 like a little child. In the corner sat a warrant-officer 
 who had been hit by three bullets. He had been lying 
 for three days in the field, and it was only to-day they 
 had picked him up. With glistening eyes the warrant- 
 officer told excitedly how their regiment had made an 
 attack on a Japanese village. 
 
 "No firing was heard from the village. The regi- 
 mental commander said: 'Boys, the little Jap has lost 
 courage. He has run away from the village. Let us 
 go and occupy it !' We advanced in chains. The com- 
 mander scolded, 'Line up, you rabble! Don't run 
 ahead !' They took it into their heads to drill us and 
 to shout, and they just sent the shivers through us! 
 And Brother Jap took an aim and began to warm us 
 up. The dust was raised all about us, and men began 
 to fall. The colonel raised his head, and peered through 
 his glasses, while they were pouring it on us. 'Well, 
 boys, move forward to an attack!' And he himself 
 turned his horse around and galloped away !" 
 
 Our soldiers listened eagerly and heaved sighs. 
 
 "Everybody was running. I fell. Near me lay a 
 countryman of mine. He tried to raise himself, but 
 he fell down again. 'My friend,' says he, 'lift me up.' 
 But what could I do.? I couldn't raise myself!" 
 
 It was like twilight in the tent; the lamps burned 
 dimly. Groans and sobs rose everywhere. The Sis- 
 ters gave tea to the wounded. We tightened the blood- 
 soaked bandages, and where necessary put on new ones. 
 There were no more bandages. I sent to the drug-store 
 of the tent-supervisor for some. The messenger re- 
 turned with the report that the apothecary would not 
 give out any without a written request. I asked a Sis- 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 109 
 
 ter to go to the drug-store and tell the apothecary that 
 I would write out the request later, but that he should, 
 in the meanwhile, furnish the bandages at once. The 
 Sister went away and, upon returning, shrugged 
 her shoulders in surprise, and informed me that the 
 apothecary refused to give them without a written 
 request. 
 
 Our apothecary was an unusually unintelligent man 
 and a drunkard; but he produced the effect of a very 
 kind and dear fellow. What had happened to him.? 
 We later learned to know him better: the drug-store 
 was for him, as it were, the central mechanism of the 
 world, and in its sacred movement nothing could be 
 changed, even by a hair's breadth. Usually meek and 
 obliging, Mikhail Mikhaylovich became intoxicated in 
 the drug-store from the height of his situation, and 
 when he was intoxicated — no matter whether from 
 brandy or from the consciousness of the importance of 
 his drug-store — ^he became arrogant and haughty. I 
 went myself to sec him. 
 
 "Mikhail Mikhaylovich, my dear man, what makes 
 you so unreasonable? Please let me have the bandages 
 at once, for the wounded are losing blood." 
 
 "Take the trouble to make a written request," he 
 answered, drily, with compressed lips. 
 
 "But what difference does it make to you whether 
 the petition is written now or later? This is the third 
 time I have requested the same thing from you." 
 
 *'I don't know anything about that. I can furnish 
 things from the drug-store only by written request." 
 In his voice I could hear the cold malice of a Rus- 
 sian official who felt in himself the right to do some- 
 thing nasty. 
 
 "The devil take it ! Give me paper, and I will write 
 it out!" 
 
 "I have no paper to spare ! Get some from the 
 senior surgeon ! I myself get the paper only upon writ- 
 
110 IN THE WAR 
 
 ten request and am obliged to render account of it. 
 
 Yes, sir, no trifling now!" 
 
 It became necessary to have recourse to the chief 
 surgeon, in order to check the apothecary's overzealous 
 relation to his work. 
 
 We were busy with the wounded until late into the 
 night. We had two cases for amputation. We ex- 
 tracted from the buttocks of an artillerj^man the dis- 
 tance tube of a shrapnel, a broad copper cone, which 
 had shattered the buttocks, and had torn the colon. In 
 the night a new transport of wounded arrived. In 
 the distance roared the cannon, and the dark heavens 
 burst as if into sheet-Hghtning from the reflections of 
 the discharges. Everywhere blood-stained, freezing 
 men groaned. A soldier whose cheek and jaws a bullet 
 had smashed, sat with his beard blackened with gore, 
 and spat stringy clots of blood. Over the head of 
 the surgeon who leaned down to him shook in even 
 motion the tense fingers of the hands that were 
 quivering in fear, and long drawn out sobs were 
 heard. 
 
 "Oh, good saints !" 
 
 And in the distance the reflections of roaring dis- 
 charges still glistened, and it was terrible to perceive 
 the sensation which drew one on to the frightful en- 
 chantment of what was taking place there. But there 
 was no enchantment — everything was wretched, gory 
 and criminal. 
 
 In the morning the order came to transport the 
 wounded men immediately to the sanitary train. What 
 was that for ? We were all perplexed. There were not 
 a few who had been wounded in the abdomen or in the 
 head, and for them the most important and necessary 
 thing was rest. Now we had to lift them up, load them 
 on shak}^ two-wheeled carts, drive them half a verst to 
 the station, there again unload them, and transfer them 
 to the sanitary train. 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 111 
 
 Our hospitals began to work, and our work was still 
 more senseless than our previous inactivity. 
 
 From the dressing-stations they kept bringing the 
 wounded. We placed them in the tents, and changed 
 the bandages that were soaked with blood. According 
 to the time of day, we gave them dinner or tea, and 
 in the evening we loaded them all on the carts, and 
 drove them to the station. What use was there in 
 stopping with us within half a verst of the station, 
 when the wounded had already been driven five or six 
 versts.'' It frequently happened that we merely exam- 
 ined the newly-brought wounded in the carts, and by 
 virtue of our authority immediately sent them on to 
 the station in the same carts. The chief surgeon did 
 not object to this, but only persisted in demanding 
 that the wounded that were brought in should be en- 
 tered on the records and should b€ sent along with our 
 tickets. 
 
 At the station we loaded the wounded on the sanitary 
 train. 
 
 A train, glittering with royal magnificence, steamed 
 up. The long white cars with their plate-glass win- 
 dows looked clean and comfortable. The wounded, in 
 snow-white linen, lay on soft spring mattresses. Sisters 
 and surgeons were everywhere, and in a special car 
 was the operating-room, the kitchen, and the laundry. 
 The train went off, noiselessly swaying on soft springs, 
 and its place was taken by another, which consisted 
 exclusively of common, clumsy baggage cars. The 
 doors were rolled aside, the wounded were dragged with 
 difficulty into the high cars without steps, and were 
 placed on the floor which had just been cleaned of 
 manure. There were no stoves, and no toilet-rooms. 
 The cars were cold and ill-smelling. The severely 
 wounded evacuated under themselves. Those who could, 
 rushed out of the cars and dragged themselves to the 
 toilet-room of the station. The train whistled, jerked 
 
112 IN THE WAR 
 
 mightily, and the cars began to move. The wounded 
 were jolted about on the floor, where they crouched, 
 groaning and cursing. There was no communication 
 between the cars. If a hemorrhage started, the wounded 
 man died before the train-surgeon could reach him at 
 the next stop. 
 
 Here is what Dr. B. Kozlovski tells in the Russian 
 Surgeon (1905, No. 5) about the transportation of 
 the wounded during the Sha-ho Battle: 
 
 "The transported soldiers suffered severely from 
 cold, the more so since they had not been furnished 
 with any warm clothing, and only a few could obtain 
 warm Chinese covers and clothes in Mukden, and even 
 these were far from sufficient. In order to keep them- 
 selves warm, the transported soldiers made fires in some 
 of the cars, over bricks and so forth ; but that was 
 an exception. For the most part, the trains were 
 despatched without any arrangements, without kitch- 
 ens, without candles, without any classification of the 
 sick, and almost without any medical personnel. Thus 
 one of the trains arrived in Harbin in charge of only 
 one officer and one Sister. There were trains that 
 travelled all night in the dark, on account of the lack 
 of candles, and that proceeded for several stations with- 
 out any medical personnel, which was provided for only 
 at Tieh-ling. Nor was it any better with the feeding 
 of the sick. It was necessary to feed the transported 
 soldiers at the military provision stations, but here a 
 whole series of misunderstandings took place : now an 
 inexperienced commander had failed to send off a tele- 
 gram in time, now a train was several hours late ; and 
 in consequence, the patients frequently went without 
 warm food for two days at a time, and starved in cold, 
 unheated cars. The nearer to Harbin, the more ob- 
 structed the road became, and the more did the trans- 
 ports freeze and starve." 
 
 In the same Russian Surgeon (No. 14) is given 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 113 
 
 the account of a surgeon, which refers to the period 
 of the Liao-yang battle: "One night he heard some 
 groans proceeding from a hermetically closed car. 
 Upon opening the car, he saw there a man who had 
 been wounded in the head, in a dazed condition, and 
 who had torn off the bandage. The wounded man stood 
 at the window of the baggage-car and with his fingers 
 picked clots of crushed brain out of the wound, and 
 examined them in the moonlight; while on the floor in 
 the darkness lay men wounded in the abdomen, with 
 incipient peritonitis, who, at every jolt of the car, burst 
 into loud groans and curses. There was a stench in 
 the car from the evacuations under the wounded. The 
 closeness and thirst increased the sufferings of the un- 
 fortunate men. Apparently the groans of the trans- 
 ported soldiers were heard in St. Petersburg, for, to- 
 wards the end of August, persons were collecting ma- 
 terial about the transportation, and, as a result, there 
 appeared a report and attempts to improve said trans- 
 portation." 
 
 During the Sha-ho Battle, as we saw, these "at- 
 tempts" had not yet been crowned with success, and 
 everything was done as of old. Here is what took place 
 at the meeting of the Tieh-ling Medical Society, as late 
 as January, 1905, not long before the Mukden Battle : 
 
 "The communication of N. V. Reno, about the trans- 
 portation of the wounded and sick in heated cars, was 
 received. The lady who made the report described 
 in vivid colors the torments suffered by the sick who 
 were transported in these trains, and pointed out the 
 humiliating situation of the medical personnel accom- 
 panying them, for they were almost impotent in their 
 struggle with the mass of disorders presented by the 
 trains in their present condition. During the exchange 
 of opinions, in which the engineers also took part, it 
 became clear that, in spite of a year of war, almost 
 nothing had been done for the improvement of these 
 
114 IN THE WAR 
 
 trains, although these improvements were possible at a 
 comparatively small cost, and with the local means of 
 the railway shops. For an all-sided consideration of 
 ways and means, necessary for a satisfactory introduc- 
 tion of improvements in the heated sanitary trains, the 
 Society appointed a commission, in whose labors the 
 engineers kindly promised to take part. The data 
 collected by this commission, and the project of a re- 
 construction of the car, which had been offered by 
 the engineer Savkevich, were sent to the Chief of the 
 Sanitary Division of the Army by a vote of the Society. 
 'I do not find it convenient to dwell here,' adds the writer 
 of the article, 'on the unexpected results of this re- 
 port.' " (The Russian Surgeon, 1905, No. 25.) 
 
 The result was very simple. From the Chief of the 
 Sanitary Division, General F. F. Trepov, there came, 
 instead of an answer, the inquiry on what basis the 
 Tieh-ling Medical Society existed. The reply was that 
 it existed on the basis of a decree, confirmed by the 
 Chief of the Rear Army, General Nadarov, and estab- 
 lishing the Harbin Medical Society, of which the Tieh- 
 ling Society was a branch. Let me remark parentheti- 
 cally that the existence of the Tieh-ling Society had 
 long been known to Trepov. The society had earlier 
 written to him of the necessity of establishing at Tieh- 
 ling an isolation building for contagious patients, but 
 to this no answer had been received. 
 
 A second paper was received from the Chief of the 
 Sanitary Division, to the effect that the authority of 
 General Nadarov did not extend to Tieh-ling. This 
 was the end of the affair. 
 
 All around us, at the stations and on the sidings, 
 field hospitals stood everywhere. Some of them had 
 not yet received the order to unpack. Others, like 
 ours, were already established. From a distance the 
 enormous canvas tents with bright green ridges could 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 115 
 
 be seen, while Red Cross flags provokingly flapped in 
 the wind. 
 
 "What are you men really doing?" I asked the sur- 
 geons of these hospitals. 
 
 "What are we doing .^^ Why, we register the wounded 
 who pass," the physicians answered, with a smile. "We 
 continually get telegrams to send them on immediately. 
 Those who are registered get their allowances, and the 
 allowances for the lower ranks are sixty kopeks a day, 
 while those for an officer are one rouble and twenty 
 kopeks. The supervisors walk around, rubbing their 
 hands." 
 
 Thus did the hospitals work in our locality. But in 
 the Mukden stone barracks, which we had turned over 
 to the hospitals of the Second Division of our Corps, 
 the following was going on meanwhile : 
 
 Wounded men were brought to the barracks in an 
 uninterrupted stream. It was as though a dam had 
 given way. They brought new patients continually. 
 They came walking, even those who were wounded in 
 the abdomen. Through all the doors men with blood- 
 stained bandages poured in. In one of the buildings 
 there were three hundred cots ; in another, one hundred 
 and eighty. Now more than a thousand wounded were 
 crowded in each of them, — not only was there no suf- 
 ficiency of cots, but there had long existed an insuf- 
 ficiency of straw and mattings, or even a free space 
 under a roof. The wounded lay on the floor between 
 the cots, in the aisles and vestibules of the barracks, 
 and filled the hospital tents, which were pitched nearby. 
 And yet there was not room for all. They lay in the 
 open, in the rain and wind, blood-stained, shivering, 
 and wet through, and the cold air was filled with their 
 quavering groans. 
 
 The "specially attached" surgeons, who, when we 
 were there, crowded the barracks without any work, 
 had now all been sent by Gorbatsevich to the various 
 
116 IN THE WAR 
 
 regiments. They all left in Swedish tunics, without 
 overcoats. Gorbatsevich simply would not allow them 
 to go to Harbin and fetch their belongings. The whole 
 enormous work in the two Mukden barracks was now 
 done by eight regular surgeons. They worked without 
 interruption, day and night, barely able to stand on 
 their legs. And they kept bringing in new wounded. 
 
 There were not enough kettles in the kitchens. As 
 many as there were, they were all filled with boiling 
 soup, on the assumption that the hungry wounded 
 would want to eat; but the majority of those who 
 arrived begged for something to drink, rather than 
 something to eat. They turned away from the hot, 
 salty soup, and begged for water. There was no 
 water; there was no place to prepare boiled water, 
 and unboiled water could not be given to them, because 
 all about raged dysentery and intestinal typhoid. 
 
 So what were these Mukden barracks doing? 
 
 They, too, were transporting, and that was all. And 
 this was even more curious than with us. They trans- 
 ported not only the wounded who had been brought 
 directly from the positions; but also the wounded who 
 arrived from the south on the heated sanitary trains, 
 who were unloaded at Mukden and transferred to the 
 barracks, in order to be hauled back to the station next 
 day, loaded into heated cars, and transported further 
 on. One might have thought that some malicious devil 
 had purposely arranged it so, in order to rejoice at 
 the immeasurable human suffering. But no, the devil 
 was not malicious, and had no desire to rejoice; he had 
 a dry, dispassionate, paper soul, an eye for bustle and 
 business, and he supposed that he was doing the right 
 thing. 
 
 Telegrams kept arriving in the barracks from the 
 military medical authorities: "Transport four hun- 
 dred men immediately," "Transport seven hundred men 
 immediately." In the clutches of some incomprehensi- 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO llT 
 
 ble, mad delirium, the authorities thought only of one 
 thing, namely, how to get the wounded as far away 
 from the position as possible. The Sha-ho Battle did 
 not end with a retreat of the army — never mind! it 
 might end with a retreat — and so the heavily wounded, 
 who above all needed rest, were, for days at a time, 
 loaded on cars, unloaded again, dragged from place to 
 place, shaken up and jolted in two-wheeled carts and 
 heated baggage cars. 
 
 At the conclusion of the battle, Kuropatkin, with a 
 feeling of great satisfaction, sent a despatch to the 
 Minister of War, to be transmitted to the Tsar : 
 
 "During the engagements from September 25 to 
 October 8, there were transferred from the field of ac- 
 tion of the Manchurian Army to Mukden, and hence 
 transported to the Rear: wounded and sick officers, 
 945; lower ranks, 31,111. The transportation of so 
 considerable a number of wounded took place in so 
 brief a time, thanks to the energy, activity, and co- 
 operation of the members of the Sanitary and Medical 
 Departments." 
 
 All the wounded were unanimous in their statements 
 that the wounds were not nearly so terrible as the trans- 
 portation in these hellish carts and cars. Those who 
 suffered from internal wounds perished in them like 
 flies. Fortunate v/as a man with an abdominal injury, 
 who for three or four days wallowed on the field of 
 battle and was not picked up : he lay there without aid 
 and alone, suffered thirst and cold, and at any moment 
 packs of dogs might attack him, — but he had his so 
 necessary rest. When he was picked up, the intestinal 
 wounds had closed up to a certain extent, and he was 
 out of danger. 
 
 Disobeying the direct commands of the authorities, 
 the surgeons of the Mukden barracks, at their own risk, 
 set aside a part of the building for patients with in- 
 ternal wounds, and did not send them on. The result 
 
118 IN THE WAR 
 
 was striking: every one of the twenty-four men got 
 well, — only one suffered from limited peritonitis, and 
 one from suppurating pleuritis. But both improved. 
 
 Towards the end of the battle, the viceroy made a 
 visit to the barracks, and distributed St. Georges to 
 the wounded soldiers. After the viceroy's departure, 
 everybody giggled, and his adjutants confusedly swung 
 their arms and confessed that, to tell the truth, all 
 these crosses should be taken back. 
 
 Here comes the viceroy, followed by his suite. On 
 a cot lies a pale soldier, over his abdomen an enormous 
 hoop, and on the abdomen some ice. 
 *'How were you wounded .P" 
 
 "You see, sir, I was walking. Your Excellency, when 
 suddenly, bang! she hit me straight in the belly. I 
 don't remember, I don't remember what!" 
 
 The viceroy pins a St. George on him, but who was 
 thsii she? A Shimose.? Oh, no! A baggage-cart. It 
 was overturned on the slope of a hill, and crushed the 
 driver. He had not even smelt powder. 
 
 The St. George was given to soldiers who had been 
 wounded in the back, while in flight. For the most 
 part, soldiers who lay near the aisles received the 
 decoration. Those who lay farther away towards the 
 wall remained unrewarded. However, there was one 
 who did get a reward. He was convalescing, and he 
 was told that in a few days he would be sent to the 
 convalescent ward. The soldier pushed his way through 
 the wounded men to the aisle, stood at attention before 
 the viceroy, and exclaimed : 
 
 "Your Excellency, please have me transferred to the 
 line. I want to serve my Tsar and country more." 
 The viceroy looked at him benevolently. 
 ^^Let the doctors attend to the transfer! Mean- 
 while, take this." 
 
 And he pinned a St. George to his cloak. 
 
 I now bad the chance to confirm the stories which 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 119 
 
 I had heard before as to the manner in which the crosses 
 were distributed. One soldier received a St. George 
 who, while drunk, had fallen under a train and had lost 
 both his legs ; and another, whose head had been split in 
 a fight with his comrade. There were many more of 
 this kind. 
 
 During the battle, as I have already said, four 
 regular surgeons were working in every building of 
 the barracks. When the fight was over, and the wave 
 of the wounded subsided, the surgeons received the as- 
 sistance of fifteen reserve surgeons from Harbin; but 
 these had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do. 
 
 While the battle was going on, none of the superiors 
 put in their appearance in the barracks ; but now they 
 began to visit it frequently. Again there were repri- 
 mands, threats of arrest, and confused, contradictory 
 orders. 
 
 Gorbatsevich made his appearance. 
 
 "What is this.'' The patients' cloaks are lying on 
 the beds!" 
 
 "There is no store-room. Your Excellency!" 
 
 "Then drive some nails over the beds and let them 
 hang on nails !" 
 
 The nails were driven in. Later Trepov appeared. 
 
 "Is this a store-house ? Why do you let these cloaks 
 hang here.? They cut ofF the light, and fill the room 
 with dust and contagion!" 
 
 "But we were ordered to do so by the Medical Field 
 Inspector." 
 
 "Take them away at once!" 
 
 Ezerski, the Inspector of Hospitals, did things in 
 his own way. A young surgeon, but lately called from 
 the reserve, was in charge for the day. Hp was sitting 
 in the receiving room at a table, reading a paper. 
 Ezerski entered and crossed the room once or twice. 
 The surgeon looked at him and continued reading. 
 Ezerski walked up and asked: 
 
120 IN THE WAR 
 
 "How many sick have you?" 
 
 "How many sick? I'll see," the surgeon said, good- 
 naturedly, stretching out his arm for the record of 
 the patients. 
 
 "Please, you see that a stranger is walking up and 
 down the hall, and you do not pay the least attention, 
 but continue reading. Suppose I am a crazy man!" 
 
 The surgeon raised his brows, surveyed the gen- 
 eral, and barely shrugged his shoulders, as much as 
 to say that to look at him one could not tell. 
 
 The general was furious and began to shout. Then 
 it occurred to the surgeon that it must be some superior 
 that was standing before him, so he arose and stood 
 at attention. 
 
 "You wiU go under arrest for a week!" 
 
 The orderly entered and, with his hand to his cap, 
 said to the general: 
 
 "Pardon, Your Excellency, it is our fault. This 
 comrade has just arrived from the reserve, and knows 
 no military rules, and we have not told him anything." 
 
 "What! You take his part? Under arrest for 
 three days !" 
 
 In Mukden the above-mentioned confusion took place, 
 but we, in our village, without hurrying, received and 
 despatched transports of the wounded. Fortunately 
 for the wounded, the transport trains came less fre- 
 quently to us. Again everybody was without work 
 and nearly died of ennui. To the south, the guns 
 roared as before, and rifle discharges were frequently 
 heard. Several times Japanese projectiles began to 
 fall and burst near our village. 
 
 One of our regular Sisters fell ill, and after her, 
 one of the supernumeraries, an officer's wife. In Sul- 
 tanov's hospital, pretty Vyera Nikolaevna was sick. 
 All three developed intestinal typhoid, — they had con- 
 tracted it in Mukden, while attending the sick. The 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 121 
 
 sick Sisters were transported to the sanitary train in 
 Harbin. 
 
 In our village was stationed the staff of one infantry 
 division. To this staff they kept bringing under con- 
 voy from the positions Chinamen who were tied to each 
 other by their queues ; and right near this village their 
 heads were chopped off. From all sides came uncertain, 
 agitating rumors about the Chinamen's treachery. It 
 was said that they sneaked in among the positions, sig- 
 nalled the Japanese from the roofs, from trees, and 
 from craters, and that they shot at our transports of 
 wounded and at the retreating armies. It was impos- 
 sible to see how it was done, but in the most important 
 places, our telegraph and telephone connections were 
 broken. 
 
 In these storie§ there was much that was true: sig- 
 nalling Chinamen had frequently been caught red- 
 handed. Under the Chinese garment of a vagrant 
 sleight-of-hand performer was discovered a Japanese 
 spy with a loose queue attached to him. The Japanese 
 knew, with amazing precision, the disposition of all 
 our parts, and all our transportations. There was 
 created the sensation of treason secretly crawling all 
 around us, and every Chinaman aroused suspicion. 
 From this grew something monstrous which would be 
 ludicrous if it were not so terrible. 
 
 In a neighboring village, a Chinaman climbed with 
 a sheaf of kao-liang on the roof of his farmhouse, in 
 order to patch up a hole. The sheaf glistened in the 
 air, a Cossack saw it, and the Chinaman, with a bullet 
 through him, rolled down from the roof. About three 
 versts ahead of us, one of our mortar batteries was 
 hidden beyond a grove. The Japs could not trace 
 it, since they did not suspect that it was located so 
 close to them. Accidentally a few Chinamen who had 
 come from Mukden to fetch some supplies from their 
 village, passed by that battery. They were all caught 
 
122 IN THE WAR 
 
 and cut to pieces. Hired Chinamen brought the 
 wounded from the positions to our hospital. When 
 ready to return, they asked of us for some "writy- 
 writy" (written notes), else they were afraid that the 
 soldiers ^ould say that they were Hung-hu-tziis and 
 would chop off their heads. Indeed, both at Sha-ho 
 and Liao-yang a number of Chinamen who had been 
 hired by the Russians for the transportation of the 
 wounded, had been killed by them as being spies. 
 
 More than one Chinaman fell as a victim of the helio- 
 graph. The majority of our soldiers knew absolutely 
 nothing about the heliograph and about its use in the 
 Russian Army. Somewhere in the distance are the 
 misty, blue mountains, and on a crater there begins 
 to flash a small fire. After two or three minutes of 
 such flashing it again dies d,own. In the neighboring 
 village suddenly a blindingly bright, intermittent light 
 glitters somewhere amidst the trees, and above the 
 roofs, and again a little fire flashes ominously on the 
 distant blue crater. Everybody is seized with an agi- 
 tated sensation of mystery and treason, and with the 
 desire to do or to prevent something. 
 
 I happened to be out riding with an officer, an 
 acquaintance of mine. Two heliographic sappers were 
 working on the roof of a Chinese farmhouse. We 
 stopped to watch them. Suddenly broken twigs began 
 to fall from a tree, bullets whistled in the air, and 
 the sappers flew headlong from the roof. Cossacks 
 galloped at full speed into the village. 
 
 "Two Chinamen have been giving signals with mir- 
 rors from the roof. We have shot one, and the other 
 has jumped down and run away. Did you not notice 
 where he went.'^" 
 
 "Scoundrels ! Sons-of-b ! Did you get dust into 
 
 your eyes? You have been shooting at us," the sap- 
 pers cried in rage at the embarrassed Cossacks. 
 
 The officers of the sappers told me that the China- 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 123 
 
 men had more than once suflPered severely at the hands 
 of the Cossacks and soldiers of those villages where the 
 heliograph was working. 
 
 Everywhere frightful blunders, which never could 
 be corrected, occurred from various causes. Once the 
 commander of our corps rode through a Chinese vil- 
 lage. From the corner of a clay fence two shots were 
 fired in succession apparently at the general. The 
 Cossacks of the convoy rushed around the corner, cut 
 two Chinamen to pieces, and captured five others. A 
 few days later the captives were killed and buried 
 near the bank of the brook. The rains washed down 
 the banks and the legs in their blue trousers and black 
 slippers over white socks stuck out from the clay. 
 Much later I learned most confidentially from one of 
 the staff" officers that after the execution of the China- 
 men it had turned out that it was not they who had 
 been doing the shooting, and that the shots had not 
 been directed at the general. Two Cossacks, who 
 had come to the village, had been hunting a Chinese 
 pig. The pig had crossed the road, and the Cossacks 
 were shooting at it; and in their hurry, they did not 
 observe the carriage of the general that was coming 
 around the corner. They saw that they were in a 
 fix, and so they galloped away, and the local Chinese 
 peasants paid the penalty for them. Later these 
 Cossacks themselves told of it to the Cossacks of the 
 convoy. The general gave the strictest order not to 
 say a word about the misunderstanding that had taken 
 place. 
 
 When everything around you is dark, when your 
 soul is filled with anxious suspicion, mistakes are so 
 easily committed! And they are bitter, terrible mis- 
 takes ! Everybody looked upon these blunders with un- 
 perturbed equanimity. But what is to be done.? Who 
 can make out what is what? There is not time to 
 bother about these things. Amidst the close-cropped 
 
IM IN THE WAR 
 
 heads with white faces, there were some yellow-faced 
 men with long queues, and the lives of these yellow- 
 faced men were cheaper than a fillip of the fingers. 
 Nobody demanded an account from the killing of a 
 yellow man. One was allowed to take such a man's 
 life by mistake, simply because one felt like swish- 
 ing one's sword. A sanguinary mist rose, and veiled 
 and intoxicated the soul, and helplessness, like a naked 
 woman with hands tied behind her, drew on to itself 
 and awakened desire. Here, before you, is a man, 
 something precious and inviolable — but if you have the 
 desire, just strike him with your sabre or shoot him 
 with your gun ! 
 
 A detachment of Circassians rode into a Chinese 
 village from the right wing. The Chinamen surrounded 
 them and gazed at the strange sight. Suddenly the 
 Circassians drew their sabres and began to strike right 
 and left, men, women, and children. What for.? They 
 explained it very simply! 
 
 "They were in our way!" 
 
 Cossacks were ordered to take to the staff such 
 of the Chinamen as had been caught at a position. If 
 the Chinamen were sent with a written order, the Cos- 
 sacks promptly dehvered them. But if there were no 
 written order, they proceeded in a much more simple 
 way. "What's the use of bothering with them.f^" They 
 would take them into the kao-liang field, kill them with 
 their sabres, and cover their bodies with kao-liang. 
 
 If any misunderstanding arose between the soldiers 
 stationed in the villages and their Chinese landlords, 
 the soldiers would threaten them something like this: 
 
 "Say another word, and we'll go and tell the captain 
 that you have threatened a soldier with a knife, and 
 off will go your head!" 
 
 I was once out riding. In the gutter by the roadside 
 lay two Chinamen, apparently dead. Both were cov- 
 ered with blood, and one of them seemed to be §till 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 125 
 
 breathing heavily and slowly. The passers-by stopped, 
 looked a while, and calmly rode on. The horses pricked 
 up their ears, snorted wildly, and shied to one side. 
 Men looked on with the strange curiosity of loafers, 
 — in their souls there was no agitation, there was not 
 that eternal fear of the destruction of life, — the life 
 of a long-haired yelloTf man was no longer felt as life. 
 Soon everything became even more mixed up, and 
 in the very depths of Russia, white men in the same 
 way ceased to feel the life of one another. 
 
 Our village was being destroyed day by day. The 
 farmhouses stood doorless and without window-sashes, 
 and from many of them the thatches had been carried 
 off. The clay walls rose amidst deserted yards cov- 
 ered with bits of broken vessels. There were no China- 
 men in the village. The dogs had left the farms, where 
 now strangers were living, and hungry and wild, they 
 raced over the fields in large packs. 
 
 In a neighboring village a sick old Chinese woman 
 was lying in a miserable clay hut. Her son had re- 
 mained with her. He was unable to take her away, 
 because the Cossacks had driven off his mule. The 
 window-sashes had been torn down for fire-wood, the 
 doors had been taken off, the furniture burned, and 
 all the supplies carried away. They suffered from 
 hunger and cold in their ruined farmhouse. Suddenly 
 the terrible news reached us that the son had, with 
 his own hands, cut his mother's throat and left the 
 village. 
 
 Our landlord returned from Mukden. When he 
 saw his looted house, he sighed and shook his head. 
 With his terrible, sweetly-polite smile, he walked 
 towards the cellar door, which had been wrenched 
 off, let himself down into the cellar, glanced around 
 there, and came out again. His immovable face ex- 
 pressed nothing. In the evening the Chinaman sat 
 
126 IN THE WAR 
 
 with the surgeon's assistant on the trunk of a tree 
 which had been cut down by us in his garden. With 
 a voice of curiosity, he asked the assistant: 
 
 "Fliend, you have a madam?" 
 
 "I have," answered the assistant. 
 
 "Little children have?" the Chinaman asked again, 
 pointing about a foot from the floor. 
 
 "I have." 
 
 The assistant heaved a sigh and fell to musing. The 
 Chinaman, in a quiet, dispassionate voice, told him 
 that he, too, had a madam and three children, and 
 that they all lived in Mukden. Mukden was swarm- 
 ing with Chinamen who had run away from the villages 
 occupied by the Russians. Everything had risen in 
 price, for a corner in a farmhouse they asked ten 
 rubles a month, a "stick" of onions cost a kopek, and 
 a pud of kao-liang, one ruble and a half. But no 
 money was to be had. 
 
 He sat with bent head, emaciated, with a fresh olive 
 hue on his handsome face. The assistant gave him a 
 piece of black bread. The Chinaman eagerly bit into 
 the bread with his crooked teeth. 
 
 From the well came our cook with a four-cornered 
 black bucket in his hand. 
 
 "Good morning, fliend!" he merrily shouted to the 
 Chinaman. 
 
 The Chinaman politely answered with a nod of his 
 head. 
 
 "Good morning !" And with a meek smile he pointed 
 at the bucket. 
 
 "Eh? Is this your bucket?" 
 
 "Mine," said the Chinaman, smiling. 
 
 "How did you manage to make your way to this 
 village?" the assistant asked. "They have deported 
 all the Chinamen from here. If you go back, you'll 
 fall into the hands of the Cossacks, and they'll chop 
 your head off!" 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 127 
 
 "Me not aflaid!" The Chinaman answered, with 
 equanimity. 
 
 In the dusk of the evening he went away from the 
 village, and we did not see him again. 
 
 At supper the chief surgeon, sighing, harangued as 
 follows : 
 
 "Yes, if we are going to burn in the other world, I 
 shall unquestionably get into a very hot frying-pan! 
 Our landlord came to-day. Apparently he wanted to 
 carry oif the three sacks of rice which he had buried 
 in the cellar, but our detachment had gotten away 
 with them before. It is very likely that he counted 
 on them, in order to keep from starving, whereas our 
 soldiers have already eaten up the rice." 
 
 "Please, sir, you knew it. How could you have 
 permitted it?" we asked. 
 
 The chief surgeon rolled his eyes. 
 
 "I found it out just now." 
 
 "It is all your own fault," Selyukov said, harshly. 
 "Not far from us is the division lazaretto. Its super- 
 visor called together the detachment and announced to 
 them that the first one whom he would catch looting, 
 he would have court-martialled. And there has been 
 no looting there. But, of course, he buys all the sup- 
 plies and the fuel for the soldiers." 
 
 An "awkward silence" ensued. The servants stood 
 at the doors with motionless faces, but their> eyes 
 laughed. 
 
 "There is in general nothing more shameful and 
 contemptible than war," said the chief surgeon, with 
 a sigh. 
 
 Everybody was silent. 
 
 "I believe that in time the East will cruelly revenge 
 itself on Europe," continued the chief surgeon. 
 
 Esthetic Shantser could not contain himself any 
 longer, and began to talk of the yellow peril, of the 
 famous picture of the German emperor. 
 
128 IN THE WAR 
 
 After supper the servants laughingly told us that 
 the chief surgeon had known about the sacks of rice 
 from the very start. He had given twenty kopeks to 
 each of the soldiers who had dug up the rice, and 
 was now feeding his detachment with it. 
 
 That division lazaretto, of which Selyukov had 
 spoken, presented a remarkable, bright oasis amidst 
 the heartless, bleak desert of our management in Man- 
 churia. The cause of this extraordinary phenomenon 
 was that the commander of the lazaretto and the super- 
 visor were simple, honest men, who were not thinking 
 of getting rich at the expense of the Chinamen. I hap- 
 pened to be in the village where this lazaretto was 
 stationed. The village had an extraordinary, incredi- 
 ble appearance: the farmhouses and yards were un- 
 touched, the doors and windows were unbroken, the 
 barns were filled with grain stacks. Chinese children 
 gambolled in the streets and women fearlessly walked 
 about; and the men had happy faces. The shrine 
 was guarded by a sentry. Patrols marched through 
 the streets by day and by night, and, to the great sur- 
 prise of the strange soldiers and Cossacks who found 
 their way to the village, mercilessly arrested the 
 looters. 
 
 How different the relations of the Chinamen to the 
 Russians were there I We sat for whole days without 
 the very necessaries, while in that village there was a 
 superabundance of everything. The Chinamen seemed 
 to get out of the earth absolutely everything that 
 the Russians asked for. No one there was afraid of 
 the Hung-hu-tziis, and on the darkest nights all walked 
 through the streets of the village unarmed. 
 
 Oh, those Hung-hu-tziis, spies, signallers! How in- 
 significant and few they would have been, how easy it 
 would have been to get along with them, if the Russian 
 Army had even distantly approached being that ex- 
 ternally and morally disciplined army that it had been. 
 
THE BATTLE OF SHA-HO 1^9 
 
 represented in the newspapers, by lying, patriotic re- 
 porters ! 
 
 The battle gradually and imperceptibly died down. 
 Two enormous waves had spread out and had come 
 in conflict and now were slowly receding. The two 
 armies, with slight changes, remained in their places. 
 The guns roared less frequently and more dully, and 
 there were fewer wounded. Russians and Japanese sat 
 opposite each other in rain-drenched trenches some 
 three hundred feet apart, freezing, up to their knees 
 in water, and huddling behind breastworks. Whoever 
 incautiously peeped over, immediately received a bullet 
 in his head. Into the hospitals there now flocked 
 patients suff^ering from bronchitis, rheumatism, and 
 fever. 
 
 Sprightly Zinaida Arkadevna came running in and 
 announced to us that the capture of sixteen guns from 
 the Japanese and the occupation of a crater was to 
 be expanded into a superb victory, and that they were 
 about to begin to consider peace. 
 
 This rumor began to spread. Some officers said re- 
 servedly : 
 
 "This is a most propitious moment for peace. We 
 have maintained the position, and we can proceed to 
 consider peace not as though we were beaten." 
 
 Others were provoked. 
 
 "How is that? It is perfectly clear that a crisis 
 is taking place in the war. So far, we have been re- 
 treating, but now we have maintained our position. In 
 the next battle, we will beat the Japs. Once they 
 are beaten, they won't stop running until they reach 
 the sea. The Cossacks will have plenty to do. The 
 Japs have no more soldiers, while we are getting new 
 supplies all the time. Winter is coming on, and the 
 Japanese are used to a warm climate. Just wait and 
 see how they will squeak in winter time !" 
 
 The majority of the officers were in agreement as to 
 
130 IN THE WAR 
 
 the winter, but in general they kept quiet and did not 
 express their opinions. 
 
 From those who had participated in the war from 
 its very beginning, I later frequently heard that the 
 general morale had reached its greatest height during 
 the Liao-yang Battle. At that time everybody had 
 faith in victory, and everybody believed without de- 
 ceiving himself. At that time even those officers 
 rushed into battle who, a few months later, swarmed 
 into the hospitals at the first rumor of a fight. I no 
 longer found that elan. While I was there, the morale 
 slowly and continuously fell from month to month. 
 Men clutched at anything, in order to save the last 
 remnant of their faith. 
 
 At first they had said that the Japanese were born 
 sailors, that we would beat them on land. Then 
 they began to say that the Japanese were used to 
 the mountains, that we would beat them in the plains. 
 Now they said that the Japanese were used to the 
 summer, and that we would beat them in the winter. 
 And everybody tried to believe in the winter. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE GEEAT STAND: OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 
 
 One evening both our hospitals received from the 
 staff of the corps the order to move immediately 
 from the village of Siao-kii-shinpu to the west, to 
 the village Bei-tai-tsein. When this order was 
 received, Sultanov's niece, Novitskaya, was, for some 
 reason, very happy. The adjutant from the staff 
 of the corps was then visiting them. While seeing 
 him out, she was all beaming and asked him to dehver 
 her great thanks to the Commander of the Corps. 
 
 The village of Bei-tai-tsein was only two versts 
 from the village where we were stationed. In the morn- 
 ing our hospital moved away. In Sultanov's hospital 
 they were only beginning to pack up ; Sultanov was 
 drinking coffee in bed. 
 
 Our chief surgeon took with him from the farm- 
 house everything which could be loaded on the wagon, 
 — two tables, stools, four elegant red cupboards. He 
 ordered the big kettle to be torn out of the stove 
 in the vestibule. To our remonstrances he replied: 
 
 "They will loot it anyway. I will return it to them 
 later." 
 
 We arrived at Bei-tai-tsein. It was a large village, 
 with two long streets, but it was entirely deserted. 
 The farmhouses were without their thatches, and the 
 clay walls gaped with the black oblongs of open doors 
 and windows, from which the wood had been removed 
 for fuel. Only in one of the streets there was a row 
 of large, well-to-do stone houses, which were entirely 
 
 131 
 
132 IN THE WAR 
 
 untouched. At the gate of every house stood a sentry. 
 
 ^'Are these houses occupied by anybody .?" the sur- 
 geon-in-chief asked the sentry. 
 
 "Yes, sir !" 
 
 "Who is stationed here?" 
 
 "The staff of the corps was stationed here. It was 
 yesterday transferred to that village. Now Sul- 
 tanov's movable field hospital will be stationed here." 
 
 "But who placed the sentry here?" 
 
 "The staff of the corps." 
 
 That was it. Now things became clear. We walked 
 through the whole village. After much searching, the 
 assistant of the supervisor found in one yard, near 
 Sultanov's farmhouses, two miserable, small and dirty 
 hovels. There were no other houses in which to be lo- 
 cated. The soldiers bivouacked in the gardens; our 
 servants cleaned and swept the hovels, and pasted 
 up the torn windows with paper. 
 
 We went to examine the farmhouses which were 
 kept for Sultanov. The rooms were clean, spacious, 
 and luxurious. The sentries told us that for three 
 days before the arrival of the Corps Commander a 
 whole company of sappers had been fixing up these 
 apartments. Now it became obvious why Novitskaya 
 was so happy upon the receipt of the order and why 
 she had sent her thanks to the Corps Commander. 
 And all this senseless transposition of the hospitals 
 for the short distance of two versts also became 
 obvious. In the other village the whole personnel of 
 Sultanov's hospital had been, like ourselves, crowded 
 into one house, and that, of course, did not please 
 Novitskaya. The incredible question arose whether it 
 was possible that hundreds of men were so easily swept 
 from one place to another at the beck and call of one 
 thin, white finger of Sister Novitskaya. Later on, 
 we had frequent occasions to convince ourselves that 
 in this finger there was an enormous fairy power. 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 18B 
 
 The servants drove a wagon loaded with our things 
 into the small yard, and began to carry the belong- 
 ings into the houses which they had cleaned up. At 
 the gate of our yard appeared the stately figure of 
 Sultanov astride a white horse. 
 
 "Look here! Whose belongings are these.'' Yours?" 
 he shouted at Dr. Grechfkhin. 
 
 *'Yes, sir." 
 
 "Be so kind as to take them away. All these are 
 our houses." 
 
 "Those houses over there are yours. Nobody told 
 us that these are occupied." 
 
 "But I do tell you! Oh, there! Don't take the 
 things in!" Sultanov shouted to our servants. 
 
 Shantser and I were standing at the gate. Shantser, 
 who was always remarkably indifferent to how things 
 were fixed for him, looked with merry curiosity at 
 Sultanov. Novitskaya and Zinaida Arkadevna hur- 
 riedly walked up to the gate. 
 
 Novitskaya, angry and excited, attacked Shantser. 
 
 "These are our farmhouses. You had no right to 
 occupy them. The general had left them for us, and 
 our sentry was standing here. You thought, because 
 you were the first to arrive, that you could grab any- 
 thing !" 
 
 She excitedly showered abuse on him. One could 
 only hear rapid, malicious: "Tet-tet-tet !" 
 
 Suddenly all her exquisite languor disappeared, and 
 before our eyes officiously flitted a contemptible, vul- 
 gar being, with a small head and an ugly turkey 
 face. 
 
 "Why do you address me? I have absolutely noth- 
 ing to do with it," Shantser replied carelessly, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders. 
 
 "It is true, Novitskaya. What has Moisey Grigore- 
 vich to do with it?" Zinaida Arkadevna remarked, re- 
 servedly. 
 
134 IN THE WAR 
 
 Novitskaya broke off, and both hurried off to their 
 houses. 
 
 Our chief surgeon arrived. He ordered the servants 
 to continue carrying the belongings into the house. 
 Sultanov turned and addressed him in his indolent, 
 careless voice: 
 
 "It would be far better if we divided the village in 
 two. We shall take this street, and you that one." 
 
 "Much obliged! Had we not better do it the other 
 way.?" answered Davydov, with difficulty suppressing 
 his annoyance. "To say the least, I should be 
 ashamed to place even dogs in those houses !" 
 
 Ultimately, matters were somehow arranged. We 
 took up residence in our farmhouse, and unpacked 
 our things. Suddenly Zinaida Arkadevna appeared 
 in our yard, with the warrant-officer who was in 
 charge of the sentry. She walked through the yard, 
 sharply examining everything. 
 
 "Here was the field telegraph, eh? Then this build- 
 ing is ours, too? Then why did you not tell them?" 
 
 "Madam, I was commanded to guard only those 
 buildings over there." 
 
 "No, this one, too. And don't lie to me, please. The 
 general himself told me so, and he pointed it out to 
 me. You are a fine commander of the guards ! I'll 
 send in a complaint of you to the Corps Commander !" 
 
 She went away with him to the gate of her farm- 
 house. A minute later the warrant-officer, saluting, 
 came up to Davydov, who was busy watching the con- 
 struction of the hospital tents. 
 
 "Your Excellency, please have your houses vacated," 
 he said, respectfully. "Else I shall be responsible be- 
 fore the commander." 
 
 The chief surgeon burst out like a flash. 
 
 "You tell your commander," he said, emphasizing 
 every word, "that I have occupied these farmhouses 
 by force. Begone!" 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 135 
 
 Another soldier came running from Sultanov, to 
 announce that there had been a misunderstanding- and 
 that Sultanov had farmhouses enough. Shantser was 
 elated at the answer of our chief surgeon. 
 
 "Superb, superb," he repeated. "For this answer 
 much ma J be forgiven him!" 
 
 The Sultanov people established themselves with 
 complete comfort. 
 
 Sultanov himself, Novitskaya, and Zinaida Arka- 
 devna each took a roomy apartment. A separate 
 apartment was given to the four junior surgeons, and 
 a separate one to the housekeeping staff. We took 
 up our quarters pell-mell in the clay hovels of our 
 two small, dirty farmhouses. In the evening the car- 
 riage of the Corps Commander and the jaunting- 
 car of his adjutant, who had brought to Sultanov 
 an invitation to sup with the Corps Commander, 
 stood in front of Sultanov's gate. Sultanov appeared, 
 together with prinked-up, perfumed Novitskaya and 
 Zinaida Arkadevna: they seated themselves in the 
 carriage and drove to the neighboring village. In 
 the yard the sentry duty was done by Sultanov's cook, 
 who had spoiled the cake for the dinner. 
 
 We had the tents pitched for the patients, but it 
 was already getting very cold at night. The chief 
 surgeon discovered a few farmhouses which were in 
 a less ruinous condition than the rest, and he began 
 to fix them up for the patients. The carpenters and 
 plasterers of our detachment worked for three days 
 on these houses. 
 
 The buildings were ready, and we were about to 
 transfer the sick from the tents. Suddenly a new 
 order came, which was to transport the sick to the 
 sanitary train, without delay to break camp, and to 
 go to the village of Su-ya-tun, while Sultanov's hos- 
 pital was to proceed to another village. We again 
 
186 IN THE WAR 
 
 drew a sigh of relief: thank God, we would be away 
 from Sultanov! 
 
 Next morning at daybreak we started. Our whole 
 corps was being moved from the right flank to the 
 centre. Along the roads the columns of infantry, the 
 baggage-trains, the batteries and the parks moved in 
 close masses. We kept stopping constantly. 
 
 During one such stop, we fell in with a number of 
 Chinamen who were tied to one another by their 
 queues. About them marched armed soldiers in caps 
 with white borders. They sat down on some hillocks 
 to rest. 
 
 "What kind of Chinamen are these.?" we asked the 
 members of the convoy. 
 
 ^'Naturally, Hung-hu-tziis !" 
 
 The Chinamen sat silently. At every motion their 
 tied queues were stretched. One of them, a very 
 young man, looked curiously aside; another drooped 
 his lower lip; a third sat with an indifferent, con- 
 centrated expression on his face. 
 
 Two artillery men walked up to them. 
 
 "Oh! Heap know you!" they exclaimed, nodding 
 their heads to a grey-haired Chinaman. 
 
 The Chinaman had a thin braid, and his sparse 
 grey beard came to a point; his bleared, red-rimmed 
 eyes were teary, and under his nose was a wet spot. 
 He was squatting, showing his worn teeth and blink- 
 ing in the sun. It looked as though he were smiling. 
 
 "Do you know him?" I asked the artillerjrmen. 
 
 "Certainly. He is from the village where we were 
 located. They had orders to have the Chinese de- 
 ported, but his old wife had just died. He stealthily 
 came back with his two sons, in order to bury the 
 old woman. We used to give him bread frequently." 
 
 "They went out to catch him and his sons, and 
 they found six others," one of the convoy said, with 
 a sigh. "The captain told us to take them to the 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 137 
 
 staff of the division, but where are we to find it? No- 
 body knows where it is!" 
 
 We arrived in the village of Su-ya-tun. It lay a 
 quarter of a mile to the east of the station. As 
 usual, it was half in ruin, but the Chinamen had 
 not yet been deported. Beyond the low clay fences 
 flat flails and heads with the black queues bound 
 around could be seen : everywhere the Chinese were hur- 
 riedly threshing the kao-liang and chumiz. 
 
 We, the junior surgeons, succeeded in finding a 
 small farmhouse which had been abandoned by the 
 Chinese, where we took separate quarters. This was 
 a great relief, not to be obliged to see eternally before 
 our eyes the chief surgeon and the supervisor. 
 
 Towards evening the band of Chinamen who were 
 tied by their queues, entered the village from the east. 
 About them marched armed soldiers, in caps with 
 white borders. 
 
 "Your Honor, can you not tell us where the staff 
 of the division is.^"' 
 
 "I do not know. Are you the men we talked with 
 this morning beyond the railway .f"' 
 
 The soldiers recognized me. 
 
 "Just so, sir." 
 
 "Have you been marching all this time?" 
 
 *'Yes, sir, since ^ye in the morning. Nobody can 
 tell us where to go!" 
 
 The soldiers looked hungry, and their faces were 
 worn and tense. The Chinese looked about them with 
 indifference and equanimity : the closely-knotted queues 
 did not allow them to turn their heads. In order 
 to feel more comfortable they tried to stand with 
 their backs against each other. 
 
 We filled them all with bread and tea, and at dusk 
 they trudged on, not knowing whither. 
 
 Towards night it began to rain and it became very 
 cold. We tried to make a fire in the khans, the broad 
 
138 IN THE WAR 
 
 ovens which stretched along the walls of the house. 
 The pungent smoke of the kao-liang stalks poured 
 through the cracks of the oven, and through the oven 
 doors. From the kettle which was fixed in the masonry 
 of the vestibule, came strong charcoal vapors which 
 mingled with the smoke. My head was aching. The 
 rain whipped through the torn paper windows, pud- 
 dles gathered on the dirty window-ledges, and the 
 water ran down into the khans. In our room sat an 
 officer of the Rifle Division, who had been overtaken 
 by the night, and had lost himself in the storm. He 
 drank tea with rum, and told us that the rumors of 
 peace were unfounded, and that it had been decided 
 to continue the fight. Now the severe winter was on, 
 and the fur jackets had not yet been sent. The men 
 of the Rifle Division were glad that they had at least 
 received their cloaks back: in the summer the cloaks 
 had been taken away from them on account of their 
 heavy weight and the extreme heat. There were 
 neither projectiles nor supplies in the Army. The 
 Harbin supply of projectiles had all been exhausted, 
 and the only reliance was on a new supply from Rus- 
 sia. The country was deserted, the farmhouses in 
 ruins. In a few months there would be neither build- 
 ings, nor fuel, nor provender. The year 181S would 
 be repeated, only we should be in the place of the 
 French. 
 
 The wind swept the rain through the torn paper 
 windows, and the room was cold, damp, and smoky. 
 
 The Chinamen stubbornly and concentratedly con- 
 tinued to work on their deserted farms. They spoke 
 flatteringly to us, telling us that "Russian captain 
 heap shango," and "Russian soldier hung-hutz," 
 showed us their looted farms, and went back to their 
 work of threshing and winnowing. And all night long 
 could be heard the noise of their flat flails. 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 139 
 
 All about us, throughout the broad Mukden plain, 
 in the fields and villages, organized, heartless looting 
 was carried on on an enormous scale. In the fields 
 there could be seen everywhere green rows of wagons, 
 loading the sheaves of kao-liang and chumiz, and the 
 loaded wagons moving in long files along the roads. 
 At the commissariat there grew up gigantic moun- 
 tains of kao-liang, chumiz, and rice straw, dozens of 
 yards in length. I asked the officers and officials who 
 watched the storing of the provender, whether they 
 paid for the supplies that were being seized. 
 
 Some answered evasively that, of course, they paid 
 for them, if the master could be found, but that the 
 greater part of the Chinese had run away. Besides, 
 they said, all these Chinese were remarkable scoun- 
 drels, for, to every mow and tree there appeared a 
 dozen masters, and the prices asked for were ex- 
 tortionate. 
 
 Other officers and officials who were more frank, 
 laughed slyly at my question, and replied: 
 
 "Yes, we do pay, at the market price." 
 
 "At the market price," was the common term in the 
 Army with which to designate gratuitous acquisitions. 
 
 Our baggage warrant officer, too, was constantly 
 going off with from six to eight wagons, to look after 
 the foraging. Near our baggage station, mows and 
 ricks of forage grew up. Once our soldiers returned 
 from the foraging disheartened and frightened, and 
 they told us that Hung-hu-tziis had been shooting at 
 them: they had driven into a village where there were 
 no Russian troops, and, while the soldiers were load- 
 ing chumiz straw, two shots were fired at them. Our 
 soldiers informed some Cossacks who happened to pass 
 by, and when these galloped into the village, the Chi- 
 nese scattered and hid themselves. The Cossacks caught 
 a boy, whom they beat with their knouts, to make 
 him tell who had done the shooting; but they could 
 
140 IN THE WAR 
 
 ii^t get anything out of him. The supervisor gave 
 thV foraging soldiers some brandy. From that time 
 on, they always carried rifles with them. 
 
 In our village all kinds of strange soldiers, as 
 ever, sneaked into the buildings, and carried off every- 
 thing they could. They walked up to the working 
 Chinamen, and in their presence filled buckets with 
 the threshed and winnowed grain, and carried them 
 off. The Chinamen moaned, moved their arms in 
 despair, and ran with their complaints to the *'cap- 
 tains" who happened to go by. Some "captains" were 
 provoked, took away the grain from the soldiers, and 
 threatened them with arrest. Others, with an indolent 
 smile, gave the following advice to the looting sol- 
 diers : 
 
 "My good fellows, hit him in the mug, and then he'll 
 keep quiet!" 
 
 Half an hour later one could again see the flash 
 of the flat flails in the air behind the low clay fences, 
 and the heads of the yellow men, with their black 
 queues bound around them, swayed in even motion. It 
 was exasperating and incomprehensible to me that they 
 continued to do so, and did not abandon it all. 
 
 But did the higher authorities know nothing of what 
 was taking place, and did they not take any measures 
 against it.'' Not at all. They did take definite and 
 precise measures. For example, in our village there 
 was displayed on a clay wall a large-lettered announce- 
 ment of the following content: 
 
 "The Rear Division of the Army Corps. 
 
 "An order to the troops of the Manchurian Army of 
 October 17, 1904, .No. 34. 
 
 "The destruction of buildings and the carrying-off 
 of utensils is strictly forbidden. Those guilty of vio- 
 lating this order, will be arrested and subjected to 
 legal responsibility." 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER Ul 
 
 The soldiers who passed by with their loot, loved 
 to stop before this announcement, and, for practice 
 in reading, scanned it very carefully. 
 
 Kuropatkin himself used every effort to decrease 
 the pillage, and he zealously issued paper after paper. 
 However, he accused only the lower ranks of any 
 wrong-doing. 
 
 In an order of September 7, 1904 (No. 547) Kuro- 
 patkin wrote as follows : 
 
 "It has come to the ears of the Commander of the 
 Army that during the Army's progress to the north 
 there have begun to appear cases of violence and il- 
 legal actions by the lower military ranks in relation 
 to the inhabitants and their property, by which the 
 population is provoked and the good relations between 
 the inhabitants and the troops, which have been main- 
 tained up to the present with much effort, are strained : 
 the population is deserting the villages and scattering 
 in the surrounding country. The Commander of the 
 Army is immeasurably grieved at this information, 
 which is intended to shake his previous calm convic- 
 tion that the troops which are intrusted to his com- 
 mand will, by their excellent and correct behavior, 
 imperturbably and at all times maintain that excellent 
 reputation which they have already established among 
 all others." 
 
 In an order of September 22, 1904 (No. 614) it was 
 determined to recompense the inhabitants for the ruined 
 fields and buildings at once, and, in case of the absence 
 of the owners, to make protocols of the extent of 
 damage done. 
 
 An order of October 8, 1904 (No. 640) read: 
 
 "The Commander of the Army is informed that the 
 passing echelons, foragers, the property men, and de- 
 tachments of the troops, while seizing forage and 
 products from the inhabitants, either do not pay them 
 at all, or give them extremely insufficient pay, and that 
 
142 IN THE WAR 
 
 the rank and file take off their shoulder-straps in order 
 not to be recognized. The Commander of the Army 
 reiterates his former order to the chiefs of all degrees, 
 to take the most energetic and active measures for the 
 surveillance of the men and the maintenance in the 
 Army of the strictest internal order." 
 
 But the chiefs were not in any hurry to take "ener- 
 getic and active measures." On February 2, 1905, the 
 Commander-in-Chief wrote to General A. A. Bilderling> 
 who was in temporary command of the Third Army 
 (No. 1441): 
 
 "In my orders and specific instructions I have re- 
 peatedly directed the attention of the commanders 
 to the necessity of instilling in the troops a strictly 
 legal relation to the local population and their prop- 
 erty. The good relation of the troops to the local 
 population, which existed in the first part of the cam- 
 paign, has, unfortunately, been considerably changed. 
 In place of the regular requisitions with the precise 
 accounting of the property seized for the purpose of 
 immediate payment to the inhabitants, or, in case of 
 their absence, to the Chinese administration, the troops 
 act as robbers toward the property of the population, 
 arbitrarily undertaking foraging expeditions, without 
 the knowledge of the nearest authorities, and seizing 
 products without any control whatsoever. A great 
 quantity of the material seized is destroyed unpro- 
 ductively, and the very settlements are in a few days 
 turned into ruins. Under such conditions the country 
 occupied by us not only gives us an insignificant 
 proportion of what it might furnish if the business of 
 exploitation were placed on any kind of a regular basis, 
 but the relations of the local population toward us 
 are becoming worse and worse." 
 
 Such things took place on the spot, as described 
 by Kuropatkin, and here is what the reporters told of 
 it to the Russian public: 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 143 
 
 *'They wire to the paper Russ as follows from Muk- 
 den : The Russian authorities pay in full for the losses 
 caused by the troops to the Chinese. The Russian 
 government pays the Chinese absolutely for all the 
 losses, averaging about forty-five rubles for a desyatin 
 of provisions. We also pay for the damaged farm- 
 houses and other buildings." (^RussMya Vyedomosti, 
 1914, No. 288.) 
 
 Upon reading such news, everybody here roared, 
 and I, who am adicted to authorship, blush at the 
 shamelessness of the Russian pens. 
 
 I was very much interested to know about the rela- 
 tions between the Chinese and Japanese. This was 
 rather hard to find out, since hardly any of us had 
 a chance to be in those localities which were occupied 
 by the Japanese. But those who had been there, for 
 example, those who had participated in Mishchenko's 
 raid, told us as follows : "The Japanese treated merci- 
 lessly those Chinese who interfered with their estab- 
 lished orders, but they paid the usual average prices 
 of peace times for all the provisions and provender 
 which they had seized in the regular way of requisi- 
 tion. The law was turned, but there was a law. The 
 villages, of course with the exception of those in the 
 positions, remained unharmed, and the temples were un- 
 touched. The farmhouses were not looted and de- 
 stroyed, and the Chinese remained living in them. 
 With the Japanese there reigned a stern law; with 
 us, unbridled anarchy, which debased all men, from the 
 general to the common soldier. During the Mukden 
 retreat, an intelligent Chinaman said to me: 
 
 "Why do they beat you all the time? Because you 
 came here, not to make war, but to plunder !" 
 
 Our chief surgeon, the supervisor with his assistant, 
 and the clerk, now sat for days at a time in the office. 
 They counted their money, made a noise on the abacus. 
 
144 IN THE WAR 
 
 and kept writing and signing their names. There 
 was something wrong in the accounts, and it was im- 
 possible to make them balance. 
 
 Now and then the supervisor's assistant, David 
 Solomonovich Bruk, and the clerk, Ivan Aleksandro- 
 vich Bruk, came to see us. They were brothers, Jews, 
 and both supernumerary officials. The younger, Ivan, 
 was a very fine-looking and timid boy, who had been 
 baptized into the Christian faith. He always lay 
 down to sleep with a revolver by his side, was dread- 
 fully afraid of Hung-hu-tziis, but, above all, was in ter- 
 ror of getting into the line. 
 
 "Don't you see.'' They are carrying on organized 
 plundering with us," he told us, excitedly. "False 
 accounts, stealing, forged notes! And, just think 
 of it, they want to get rid of me! I am in charge 
 of the office, and yet the chief surgeon invites the 
 secretary of the nearest regiment to compose an ac- 
 count of the foraging!" 
 
 He sat there, pale, with rolling eyes, and with an 
 expression of anger and dejection on his set face. 
 
 "But let them try ! I have a little document against 
 them! Davydov gave a Chinaman three rubles to sign 
 his name to an account amounting to a hundred and 
 eighty rubles, but he wrote in Chinese: *I received 
 three rubles.' Another Chinaman translated it for me ! 
 Just let them try! Only, don't you see, these scoun- 
 drels will have me immediately transferred to the line, 
 and they know that I am afraid of it !" 
 
 From the positions arrived in our village for en- 
 campment an infantry regiment, which had been in the 
 war for a long time. The chief surgeon invited the 
 regimental secretary to supper. He was a corpulent 
 little official who looked as though he had been carved 
 out of a piece of oak. He had risen to the rank of 
 Titulary Councillor of Scribes. Our chief surgeon, who 
 usually was very stingy, this time did not spare any 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 145 
 
 money and lavishly treated his guest to wine and 
 liqueurs. When under the influence of the liquor, the 
 guest told how things were managed in his regiment, 
 and he spoke frankly, with the condescending pride 
 of a past master. 
 
 "We have sold twenty-two of the best baggage 
 horses, and we reported that five had run away and 
 that seventeen had died from improper feeding. We 
 said that no protocol had been taken. Signature of 
 the regimental commander. By the way, we are ac- 
 counting for the maintenance of eighteen non-existing 
 steers." 
 
 The chief surgeon cast a hostile glance at the super- 
 visor. 
 
 "Do you see?" he said, with a show of irritation. 
 *'And our existing three steers have not even been en- 
 tered as being on maintenance!" 
 
 The secretary told many stories. The chief sur- 
 geon and the supervisor listened eagerly to him, like 
 students of a talented and magnetic teacher. After 
 supper, the chief surgeon ordered the two Bruks to 
 retire. He was left alone with the supervisor and his 
 guest. 
 
 The younger Bruk came to see us. He was de- 
 jected and angry, and his face had a greyish-green 
 tinge. 
 
 "Let them send for me now, I will not go there 
 for anything!" he repeated, meditatively rolling his 
 eyes. 
 
 He took a small lantern and went to the other end 
 of the village, to make a call on the Sisters. 
 
 "He is a fool!" Shantser said, laughingly. "He 
 thinks that they are getting rid of him and are hiding 
 from him, in order not to share with him. He does 
 not consider that they won't share with him anyway — 
 they are afraid of him, because he is a smarty ! They 
 are trying to get rid of him because they don't want 
 
146 IN THE WAR 
 
 him, because he does not understand anything in this 
 serious matter." 
 
 About two hours later the chief surgeon, the super- 
 visor, and the guest left the surgeon's house, in order 
 to take tea in the apartment of the managing per- 
 sonnel, which was in the same farmhouse where we 
 surgeons were living, and was separated from us by a 
 vestibule. At tea the conversation was of a general 
 nature. One could hear the loud, full voice of the 
 supervisor and the hoarse and apparently suppressed 
 voice of the chief surgeon. 
 
 "Port Arthur will, in any case, hold out for another 
 six months. The Sixteenth Corps will soon arrive; 
 then, if God grants it, the Manchurian Army will go 
 into action." 
 
 We listened and smiled. Shantser merely expressed 
 his aesthetic indignation. 
 
 "What business have they, thieves that they are, 
 to talk of the action of the Manchurian slywlJ? How 
 can they speak of it and look each other in the eye.? 
 I can't understand it. You see, Davydov sends his 
 wife every month from fifteen hundred to two thou- 
 sand rubles, whereas she knows that his salary amounts 
 to only five hundred rubles. What will he tell her 
 when she asks where he got that money? What will 
 he do when his children will accidentally discover this ?" 
 
 "You're silly!" Selyukov said, sighing, and started 
 to undress himself. 
 
 At one o'clock in the morning, when we had already 
 retired, the elder Bruk, the supervisor's assistant, en- 
 tered our room. Shantser was the only one who was 
 still up, and he was writing letters. For an hour and 
 a half, Bruk told Shantser about the conversations of 
 the day, and they both laughed, restraining them- 
 selves only enough not to awaken Selyukov and 
 Grechikhin. 
 
 **Do you understand.?" Bruk was saying. "I was 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 147 
 
 present at a regular gathering of suspicious characters 
 and rascals. Every one of their acts is punishable 
 with a number of years in Siberia, and this secretary 
 is an expert pickpocket and jiist see the airs he puts 
 on! He is not a supernumerary such as we are, but 
 a 'Titulary Councillor.' " 
 
 "Ha,» ha, ha! Eighteen non-existing steers on 
 maintenance 1" Shantser exclaimed, shaking with 
 laughter. 
 
 ''Yesterday Davydov said to me: 'Did you hear 
 about the hospitals which took our place at Mukden.'' 
 During the engagement, ten thousand wounded passed 
 through them. If we had been left at Mukden, we 
 should now be rich men !' I said to him, 'Yes, we — you 
 and I!"' 
 
 Shantser roared. 
 
 "Really, my good friend, why do you just stand 
 and look on.^^ They are filling their pockets, and you 
 just gape !" 
 
 "Davydov said to me to-day : 'Things don't go right 
 with us ! There is a deficiency everywhere ! How are 
 we going to make the accounts balance ?^ " 
 
 They both laughed and restrained each other in 
 their outbursts with the words, "Hush, we'll wake 
 them !" 
 
 "Wifie said to me before leaving," Bruk said, in 
 humorous meditation, " 'Dave, don't sign any forged 
 checks! Don't be dragged into court! Just come 
 home hale and hearty, and you will manage to earn 
 a living !' " 
 
 "You haven't made out any forged accounts yet.?" 
 
 Bruk sighed, with a roguishly distressed expression 
 on his face. 
 
 "They compelled me to write out one! In Mukden 
 there had been many rumors about the chief surgeon's 
 oats. To close Sultanov's mouth, he sold him 300 
 puds at one ruble forty, but he ordered me to write out 
 
148 IN THE WAR 
 
 a bill at one ruble eighty kopeks. I refused to do so, 
 but Davydov said to me: 'What difference does it 
 make to you? Why should we not do a kindness to 
 Sultanov?' Sultanov himself is a scoundrel of the 
 first water. Our Division Staff was in great need of 
 oats, and Sultanov sold back a hundred puds. 
 'Davydov,' says he, "^you know, is a crafty business 
 man. He has flayed me at the rate of one ruble eighty 
 kopeks. Well, I will sell it to you at a loss. I will let 
 you have it at one ruble sixty kopeks.' " 
 
 "Well, sir, you've got your foot into a nice mess !" 
 "But don't you see, I did not think that my brother 
 was such a scoundrel. He is provoked at all this, only 
 because he doesn't get his share of the profits!" 
 
 Bruk looked solemn and gloomy. Shantser roared, 
 again restraining himself so that he shouldn' t be 
 heard. 
 
 From the positions were heard continuous dis- 
 charges of the guns. Sallies and night attacks took 
 place, and now and then came the news that a new 
 engagement was impending. The soldiers froze in the 
 trenches. At night the thermometer went down to 
 18 or 16 degrees and the puddles froze over. The 
 fur jackets had not yet arrived, although, according 
 to the order of the Commander-in-Chief, they were 
 to have been furnished on October first. Over their 
 overcoats the soldiers put on Chinese cotton cloaks of 
 a light grey color. They presented a sorry and 
 ludicrous appearance, and the Japanese railed at 
 them from their trenches. The officers told enviously 
 of the fine fur coats and jackets of the Japanese, 
 and how warmly and practically the captives were 
 dressed. 
 
 Towards the end of October, the fur jackets at 
 last arrived. The commissary officers were very proud 
 because they were only a month late, for during the 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 149 
 
 Turko-Russian War the fur coats did not get to the 
 army before May.-*^ 
 
 About five days after our arrival at Su-ya-tun, we 
 were ordered to encamp. We pitched three hospital 
 tents, but in them it was as cold as in an ice cellar, 
 and the sick and wounded froze terribly. Again they 
 tried to fix up some farmhouses. 
 
 But few wounded were brought in. They were 
 mostly sick men who came. They arrived with badly- 
 neglected cases of rheumatism, bronchitis, and dysen- 
 tery. Their legs were all swollen from long and con- 
 stant sitting in the trenches. The sick were sent to 
 the hospitals with great reluctance. The soldiers said 
 that every one of them was suffering from diarrhoea, 
 from rheumatism of the joints, and from constant 
 coughing. If they asked to be sent to a hospital, the 
 regimental surgeon would say : ''You are only pretend- 
 ing. You simply want to get away from the posi- 
 tion." They transported them to the hospitals only 
 when they had to be carried on stretchers. 
 
 One evening an infantry regiment arrived from the 
 positions at our village, in order to take a rest. The 
 sun had set, the west was of a bright orange color, 
 and darkness was already descending on the damp 
 earth. Rows of black figures in bushy fur caps, with 
 the sharp bayonet points, appeared on the low hill, 
 stood out in bold outline against the evening glow, and 
 descended and disappeared in the darkness. Above 
 the black horizon moved only the black fur caps and 
 
 * However, as later appeared, there was no particular reason 
 to express any pride, for the great majority of the fur jackets 
 did not even reach the army in May, but only a year after the 
 conclusion of peace. Tliis is what the Novoe Vremya wrote in 
 November, 1906: "Of late there have been arriving at Harbin 
 not only separate cars, but even whole trains, of the com- 
 missariat, carrying chiefly warm clothing. These cargoes had 
 been despatched from Russia to the active Army during its 
 position on the Sha-ho, but they had been sidetracked somewhere 
 until now." 
 
150 IN THE WAR 
 
 the pointed forest of bayonets. The soldiers walked 
 with a strange, tottering gait, and continuous cough- 
 ing hovered over the regiment. It was an uninter- 
 rupted, dry hacking, such as I had never heard be- 
 fore. It was clear to me that all these soldiers, every 
 one of them, ought to be sent to a hospital. If they 
 were sent on, sick as they were, only a few would 
 survive. There they let them sit diseased in the 
 trenches, let them freeze and shiver, as long as they 
 could hold out, and then they were sent away crippled 
 for life. This was a disagreeable but iron logic: if 
 men are thrown under a storm of piercing bullets and 
 under shells which tear the body to pieces, why should 
 one stop before a permanently disabling disease? 
 There is only one consideration, and that is whether 
 a jnan is still good for action. The rest is a matter 
 of indifference. 
 
 By degrees an entirely new relation arose between 
 the surgeon and the patient. The surgeon blended 
 with the whole, ceased to be a surgeon, and began to 
 look at the patient from the standpoint of his further 
 usefulness for action. A slippery road! And from 
 this road the medical conscience fell into the abyss of 
 brazen police persecution and amazing heartlessness. 
 
 The Army began to be swamped with soldiers or- 
 dered back from the hospitals, who were totally un- 
 fit for service. They transferred to the line soldiers 
 who could barely move their legs after severe cases of 
 typhoid fever ; they transferred cripples, men who were 
 barely able to breathe, whose breasts had been pierced 
 by bullets, who could not raise their wounded arms 
 to the level of their shoulders. At last, even the mili- 
 tary authorities became aware of the fact. In De- 
 cember the Military Medical Field Department was 
 obliged to issue a circular (No. 9060) of the follow- 
 ing contents: *'It has come to the notice of the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief that the Army is, to a great extent, 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 151 
 
 being replenished from the hospitals by the rank and 
 file, who are either totally unfit for service, or who 
 have not yet recovered from diseases." In view of this, 
 the military institutions were asked to be more care- 
 ful in discharging the patients. 
 
 It had come to the notice of the Commander-in- 
 Chief. But why did it not come to the notice of 
 the military medical authorities.'^ Why did it not 
 come to the notice of the surgeons themselves? It 
 became necessary for the military generals to teach 
 the surgeons how to be more attentive to the patients ! 
 
 In our ofiice heavy work was being handled from 
 morning until night, under the guidance of the regi- 
 mental secretary. They made up accounts and manu- 
 factured auditing sheets. If they could not find a 
 Chinaman to sign a bill, they had the senior scribe do 
 so. He copied a few Chinese letters from the long red 
 strips which abundantly adorned the walls of any 
 Chinese farmhouse. 
 
 The supervisor was getting nervous. He fell to 
 musing. He frequently lost the thread of his con- 
 versation, and tried to make it appear that he rarely 
 entered the office. 
 
 "He acts like a maiden that has just fallen," Sel- 
 yukov explained. "On the one hand, she is happy, and 
 she will go to-morrow to a secret meeting; on the other 
 hand, she feels uncomfortable and is afraid of the 
 consequences." 
 
 The younger Bruk was gloomy, irritable, and angry 
 at the chief surgeon and the supervisor. He made 
 constant attempts to let them know that "he knew 
 about their tricks." On entering into a book a false 
 account, Bruk suddenly exclaimed: 
 
 "This account has been signed by our senior scribe !" 
 
 The chief surgeon calmly took the account in his 
 hands and examined it. 
 
15^ IN THE WAR 
 
 "Has it? How artistically he has made the sig- 
 nature! Just like a Chinaman!" 
 
 In the evening, as Bruk was lying in his bed near 
 the supervisor, he said: 
 
 ''The chief surgeon assures us that he has no eco- 
 nomic funds whatsoever in the hospital. But why 
 does he not have them? The other day he put two 
 thousand rubles into his pocket !" 
 
 "What!" the supervisor rolled his eyes in surprise, 
 and sat up in his bed. "But how do you know? Such 
 accusation may be uttered only if one has the proofs. 
 To-morrow I shall ask Grigori Yakovlevich whether 
 or not that is true." 
 
 Bruk's heart sank into his boots. He grew pale 
 and began to explain that possibly it only seemed 
 so to him. 
 
 Towards the end of October we received the order 
 to break camp and move about eight versts to the east, 
 to the village of Mi-zan-tun. We abandoned the farm- 
 houses which had been fixed up for the patients and 
 the dugouts which the soldiers had made for them- 
 selves, and transferred ourselves to Mi-zan-tun. It 
 was now quite. out of the question to keep the patients 
 in tents, because it was late in the autumn and very 
 cold. We started to fix up the farmhouses, and the 
 soldiers were making dugouts, when a new order came 
 to move to the village of West Chen-hou-zu, some four 
 versts to the northwest. Again we abandoned every- 
 thing and moved on. The soldiers were furious and 
 they said in irritation: 
 
 "There is no luck in our work !" 
 
 Formerly they had worked with a vim and pleasure. 
 Now they dug, chopped, and plastered lazily and 
 dreamily, for they were absolutely convinced of the 
 uselessness of their work. 
 
 In war time two movable field hospitals are attached 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 153 
 
 to every division. They are supposed to do the work 
 of the whole division, and to follow it everywhere. Our 
 army stood near Mukden from August to February, 
 but the separate military units had constantly been 
 moved and transferred to other places. With them 
 went the hospitals. We changed places, again fixed 
 up the farmhouses for the patients, and finally en- 
 camped. 
 
 A new order — to break camp again, and to fol- 
 low the unit once more. We did not have a mov- 
 able field hospital, — there was, as the surgeons wittily 
 remarked, something that belonged to the field and 
 was movable. The institution was, unquestionably, a 
 field institution, and it was movable — indeed, it was too 
 movable — only it was not a hospital. It flopped about 
 behind the division, uselessly and senselessly, carrying 
 out its purposeless paper mission. 
 
 The Army all the time remained in one place. It 
 would seem that there was no reason to move the count- 
 less field hospitals back of the units, up and down 
 the front. What kept them from being stationed im- 
 movably in certain places .f* What difference did it 
 make whether a sick soldier of one Russian army got 
 to his hospital or to the hospital of another division? 
 Besides, if the hospital remained in one place, it could 
 arrange many spacious and warm buildings for the 
 sick, with isolation tents for the contagious patients, 
 with baths, and with a proper kitchen. 
 
 In that great complex business which was being 
 done around us, the thing which was most needed was 
 a living elasticity of organization, and ability and 
 desire to adapt the given forms to every content; but 
 the enormous, arbitrary paper monster enmeshed the 
 whole army with its dry tentacles, and the men crept 
 amidst them in cautious, timid zigzags, and did not 
 think of business, but of how they could escape get- 
 ting in the way of these tentacles. 
 
154 IN THE WAR 
 
 We took up our position in West Chen-hou-zu. In 
 the village the usual plundering of the Chinese wa^ 
 taking place. Two artillery parks were stationed 
 here. Conflicts took place between the hospital and 
 the parks. The artillerymen were taking a thatch off! 
 a roof. In the yard some rafters were sticking out of 
 heaps of straw. Our chief surgeon or supervisor made 
 his appearance. 
 
 "How dare you destroy the farmhouses? Do you 
 not know the order of the Commander-in-Chief.? I will 
 have you turned over to the court-martial!" 
 
 The artillerymen disappeared, and our soldiers were 
 ordered to pick up the beams and carry them to the 
 hospital. The officers of the artillery parks did pre- 
 cisely the same with our soldiers. 
 
 The frosts were increasing in intensity. Occasion- 
 ally snow fell. In Mukden a cubic sazhen (about two 
 and two-thirds cords) of wood cost from seventy to 
 eighty rubles, and soon went up to a hundred rubles. 
 The destruction of the farmhouses assumed grand pro- 
 portions. Whole villages presented nothing but heaps 
 of half-destroyed clay walls. Everybody thought of 
 himself only. If a military unit occupied ten houses 
 in a village, it consumed all the rest for fuel. Upon 
 leaving a village, it destroyed the last farmhouses and 
 carried off^ all the wooden parts. And the stern Man- 
 churian winter was still ahead of us. 
 
 The trees in the cemeteries were cut down. Every 
 Chinese family has in its field its separate, inalienable 
 family cemetery : in a small, square plot widely branch- 
 ing black poplars lean over a mass of conical hillocks 
 crowded close together. This is a holy of holies for 
 every Chinaman, an inviolable, quiet "blessed field." 
 In the books about China we read: "A Chinaman 
 through whose guilt foreigners are enabled to enter 
 the holy enclosure of this field is considered a sac- 
 rilegist. A member of the family through whose guilt 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 155 
 
 the family loses this plot is under a curse and his 
 name is stricken from the family book." 
 
 A Chinaman is attached with his whole heart to this 
 most sacred place, to "the field of his ancestors," which 
 lies in the midst of his land. When we were stationed 
 at Mi-zan-tun, an order was received for the deporta- 
 tion of all the Chinese from the village. The deporta- 
 tion was carried on with customary cruelty and heart- 
 lessness. The inhabitants were given two hours in 
 which to get ready. The Cossacks, with knouts in 
 their hands, hurried them in their packing, and the 
 Chinese hastily stuck into their baskets whatever they 
 could lay their hands on. 
 
 "That will do! Move on!" and the Cossacks took 
 them by the back of the neck and put them out of their 
 houses. 
 
 All were deported. Immediately a few old men re- 
 turned. They were again deported. They returned 
 once more, and all died on the graves of their ancestors. 
 One old man had been observed by the officers wander- 
 ing for a long time over his cemetery. They paid no 
 attention to him. He lived in the field in a miserable 
 kao-liang shack, fed on beans, and drank water from 
 a puddle. After a very cold night, he was found 
 frozen stiff in his cemetery. 
 
 In these quiet "blessed fields" one could now hear 
 the noise of Russian axes everywhere, and the tall trees 
 fell creaking to the ground. The whole broad Mukden 
 plain was devastated before our eyes and turned into 
 a barren desert. When we arrived there it was a 
 flourishing country. Everywhere happy villages were 
 hidden in verdure, and everywhere could be seen the 
 darkling cemetery groves. Now there were no trees, 
 and only stumps stood out. The clay ruins of the vil- 
 lages looked gloomy and desolate. Enormous packs of 
 homeless dogs, maddened from hunger, raced over the 
 fields. At night the soldiers had to defend them- 
 
156 IN THE WAR 
 
 selves against them with their rifles. The dogs fought 
 one another, and tore up and devoured their com- 
 panions. In the positions they ate the corpses, at- 
 tacked the wounded that had not been picked up, and 
 in the rear gnawed the skeletons of the Chinese dead. 
 
 The Chinese coffins are not placed in the ground: 
 they are simply put on the ground and covered up with 
 conical hillocks of earth. The coffins are large and 
 strong, being constructed from thick planks. The 
 soldiers opened the graves and carried away the lids 
 and walls of the coffins for fuel and left the skeletons 
 unburied. And the dogs gnawed at them. From 
 the open graves grinned the yellowed, eyeless skulls 
 from which the queues had rotted away, and the clutch- 
 ing dark fingers stuck out from the decomposed, broad 
 blue sleeves. 
 
 Yes, everything was done by Christian Russia to 
 crush the well-being and the very soul of the quiet, 
 peaceful local peasantry. The desecrated temples, the 
 profaned cemeteries — heartlessness and indifference 
 for everything! It was as though a thick poisonous 
 mist, full of beastly savagery and of terrible neglect 
 for man, was slowly descending upon the Manchurian 
 plains. Over there in distant Russia they were singing 
 hymns to the new Christ warriors in their great strug- 
 gle with paganism, while here the intelligent Chinese 
 stood in absolute perplexity before what was taking 
 place. They said: 
 
 "We understand that war is war, but we do not un- 
 derstand why you must pollute the graves of our 
 fathers and revile our gods.' 
 
 ?? 
 
 The Corps Controller with his assistants arrived at 
 our hospital and began the work of revision. 
 
 From early in the morning until late at night they 
 sat in the office with the chief surgeon and the super- 
 visor. The abacuses clicked, and one could hear the 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 157 
 
 words: "from the advance sum"; "to the account of 
 economic sum" ; "the provision list" ; "the soldiers' 
 mess." They compared the documents, audited them, 
 and saw to it that there was not a kopek's worth of 
 mistake. The chief surgeon and the supervisor gave 
 business-like explanations. Everything balanced cor- 
 rectly and accurately. 
 
 Everybody in the Army knew well that the prov- 
 ender, the fuel, and many other things, were collected 
 by the Army units on the spot, gratis, and that in 
 Mukden the Chinese shops quite openly handled forged 
 Chinese notes, certifying to the receipt of any sum 
 desired. And yet, the controllers conscientiously ex- 
 amined every Chinese account, carefully added the 
 sums, in order to see whether they agreed with the 
 sums indicated in the forged accounts. There could be 
 but one purpose of such a control, and that was to 
 train the Army in precise rascality. For hours at a 
 time men sat with serious, business-like look and clicked 
 the abacus, while above them the countenanceless paper 
 god flitted on his dry wings and nodded to them with 
 the gentle appearance of an accomplice. 
 
 The controllers went away. The chief surgeon and 
 the supervisor strutted about in contentment and sat- 
 isfaction. The younger Bruk was green with envy and 
 was getting thin and sickly. 
 
 It was fun to watch this young man. In order to 
 have a corner of our own, we physicians were obliged 
 to settle at the other end of the village. It was a long 
 distance to the main office, and the surgeon of the 
 day passed all his time in the office where Ivan Bruk 
 was stationed. There was plenty of opportunity to 
 observe him. 
 
 Tall and good-looking, conscious of his prepossess- 
 ing appearance, he readily told how he had married 
 an oldish daughter of a Councillor of State, and how 
 lie had for that purpose turned Christian, 
 
158 IN THE WAR 
 
 "Just imagine!" he said, reproachfully; '*my eldest 
 brother has for this broken off all communication with 
 me! But why? Have I not improved my condition? 
 They gave me as a dowry a little house — you ought 
 to see the fine garden attached to it, and the fruit in 
 the garden ! They got me a j ob in a bank, where I get 
 eighty rubles salary!" 
 
 He showed us all the forged documents and told us 
 of the scoundrelly transactions of the chief surgeon. 
 
 "Here is a little document which Davydov has lately 
 brought from Mukden. Look at it!" 
 
 On fine Chinese paper it said : "For a steer, received 
 in full, eighty-five rubles," and then followed a Chinese 
 signature. 
 
 "Well, eighty-five rubles is fair enough !" I remarked. 
 
 Bruk's eyes glistened merrily and slyly. 
 
 "Yes, only there was no steer in the transaction. 
 It's the same steer that was bought before! At first, 
 we entered him as for the maintenance of the detach- 
 ment, and now we've carried him over as for the main- 
 tenance of the patients !" 
 
 Bruk's face beamed with joy, but suddenly his eyes 
 grew dim, and he looked malicious. 
 
 "But do you understand what kind of rascals they 
 are? I know all their tricks, and I don't get anything 
 for it ! You remember, at Su-ya-tun we frequently saw 
 the Regimental Secretary: the Manager of the House- 
 hold Division pays him a hundred rubles a month for 
 keeping quiet, and he has other incomes beside !" 
 
 "Ivan, stop!" his brother David said, in annoyance. 
 
 "But I will take what belongs to me! And don't 
 let them forget that! I have hinted to the chief sur- 
 geon that I am on to his tricks. I purposely borrowed 
 of him fifty rubles which I shall not return, and I have 
 let him know that I do not consider myself his debtor." 
 
 "What a rascal !" David remarked. 
 
 "Who? I?" Ivan asked, in surprise, 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 159 
 
 David sighed. 
 
 "Yes, you, among others !" 
 
 "But understand! I enter all their forged accounts 
 in the books, and they don't share with me !" 
 
 Ivan fell to musing. 
 
 "Yes, if they had fixed matters differently, I would 
 come back from the war a rich man!" 
 
 A plan was slowly maturing in his head. 
 
 *'Do you know, I think the chief surgeon is em- 
 barrassed and does not know in what form to offer 
 me the money," he hazarded. "I'll have a talk with 
 him in a day or two." 
 
 At last the plan materialized. One evening Bruk 
 sent a soldier clerk with a letter of the following con- 
 tent to the chief surgeon: 
 
 ^'Honored Grigori Yakovlevich, you can't help know- 
 ing that you are earning money partly due to my aid, 
 and I would be very much obliged to you if you would 
 share with me at least part of the profits." 
 
 Bruk, with foresight, inclosed an empty envelope 
 in the letter. "Maybe Davydov will not have an 
 envelope handy," he said. The soldier took the letter 
 to the chief surgeon, but the latter said that there 
 would be no answer. 
 
 Bruk waited in the office for two hours, and then 
 went to see Davydov. The Sisters and the supervisor 
 were with him. The chief surgeon jested with the Sis- 
 ters and laughed, and paid no attention to Bruk. The 
 letter, torn to shreds, was lying on the floor. Bruk 
 remained there for a while, picked up the bits of his 
 letter, and went away. 
 
 Next day the chief surgeon did not appear in the 
 office, nor did he show up for two or three days. Bruk 
 gave us all the details of the story, and was agitated 
 and expectant. 
 
 "I am awfully afraid that he will suddenly transfer 
 me to the line!" 
 
160 IN THE WAR 
 
 "But, my dear man, you are trying to get there as 
 fast as you can," Shantser said, laughing. 
 
 Bruk's eyes rolled, and on his pale lips flashed a 
 sly smile. 
 
 "Then I will inform on all of them !" he burst out. 
 
 The elder Bruk, who had been sent on business to 
 Harbin, returned. The chief surgeon sent for him, and 
 told him about the letter which his brother had written, 
 and said: 
 
 "I tore up that letter out of pity for you. This boy 
 does not understand what might have happened to 
 him for such a letter. Talk with him and make it clear 
 to him. As to the profits, it is true I do not show a 
 part of the sums in the accounts, but hold it back in 
 case there should be a deficit. You know how muddled 
 and complex the military laws are, and how the con- 
 trol may any minute find this or that expenditure ille- 
 gal, and then I shall be responsible for the sum. But 
 if there should be no deficit, and all should end well, I 
 would, after the war, divide up these sums with every- 
 body." 
 
 David Bruk intended to have a talk with his brother 
 in the evening, but after dinner Ivan went off with the 
 chief surgeon to the corps treasury. David was dread- 
 fully agitated, for fear that Ivan might on his way 
 mention the question of the sharing of the profits to 
 the chief surgeon. 
 
 Ivan returned late in the evening. 
 
 "Do you know, I have had a talk with the chief 
 surgeon on my way down," he explained to his brother. 
 
 David raised his arms in horror. 
 
 "You are a fool, that's what you are !" 
 
 "Not at all a fool," Ivan calmly replied. "Rest 
 assured that I know him better than you. At Christ- 
 mas I am to be rewarded for my earnest labor in the 
 office by a monthly increase of twenty-five rubles, and 
 besides, he has given me to understand that the fifty 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 161 
 
 rubles which I had borrowed from him he considers 
 to be mine." 
 
 On our way to Manchuria, and here in Manchuria 
 itself, one circumstance in particular surprised us. The 
 Army suffered a great lack of a personnel in officers. 
 The wounded officers were returned to the line before 
 they were barely well again. The commissions of dis- 
 charge, according to superior orders, became stricter 
 from month to month, and the officers were freed with 
 increasing difficulty. The officers of the hne, those who 
 were ailing and frequently those who were quite ill, 
 constantly turned to us for medical advice. Of those 
 who had arrived here in the beginning of the war, many 
 were so worn out that they awaited wounds and death 
 as a delivery. 
 
 At the same time a mass of healthy, robust officers 
 occupied secure and peaceful offices in the rear of the 
 Army. The most astounding thing was that the offi- 
 cers in these rear positions received better pay than 
 those in the line. They filled the offices of the com- 
 missariat, were supervisors of hospitals and lazarettos, 
 and commanders of stations, etapes, and sanitary 
 trains, and were in charge of all kinds of stores, trans- 
 ports, baggage-trains, and bakeries. Here, where their 
 work could easily have been done by officials, it was 
 considered necessary to maintain the complex of offi- 
 cers, whereas in the engagements, the command of 
 companies was in the hands of supernumerary ensigns, 
 that is, of non-commissioned officers, who had been 
 advanced to the position of commissioned officers only 
 for the time being. It looked as though the special 
 military education of the officers were not considered 
 necessary for battle. The companies went into action 
 with a civilized, educated enemy under the guidance 
 of non-commissioned officers, while the real officers, 
 who had been specially trained for war, in the bloom 
 
162 IN THE WAR 
 
 of health, were counting hospital cloaks and selling 
 sweetmeats and pastry in the cars of the Economic 
 Societies for Officers. 
 
 Once the Commander of our Division visited our hos- 
 pital. He examined the apartments, then he went to 
 have tea with the chief surgeon. 
 
 "Yes, heutenant," the general said, turning to the 
 supervisor, "you will be transferred to the line. The 
 Commander-in-Chief has ordered to have the officers of 
 the line who are recovering from wounds sent to the 
 quiet rear positions, and the fit officers to be trans- 
 ferred to the line. You may choose whichever regi- 
 ment you wish to be transferred to." 
 
 The supervisor turned white as a sheet and his 
 knees trembled. He shrunk and stooped. 
 
 "Yes, sir," he replied in a faint voice. 
 
 "Your Excellency, he is not fit for the line," the 
 chief surgeon ventured to remark. "He is no good as 
 an officer, has completely forgotten line duty, and, 
 besides, he is a terrible coward — whereas he is a splen- 
 did supervisor. I assure you that in the line he will 
 do only harm." 
 
 The general cast a stealthy look through his glasses 
 at the supervisor, and his eyes betrayed a sarcastic 
 smile: the supervisor was all curled up, his glance was 
 fixed, and, apparently, he was not in the least offended 
 by the reference to his cowardice. 
 
 "An officer cannot be a coward," the general said, 
 abruptly, "and I cannot interfere with the order 
 which the Commander-in-Chief has given. Think it 
 over, and let the staff know which regiment you have 
 chosen." 
 
 "Yes, sir," the supervisor replied again. 
 
 The general drove away. 
 
 The supervisor was a changed man. Formerly self- 
 satisfied, arrogant, and jolly, he now sat in silence and 
 concentrated thought. Whenever the warrant officer 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 163 
 
 came for orders, the supervisor waved his hand and 
 replied : 
 
 "Do as you please!'' 
 
 He called on the Sisters and embarrassed them by 
 sitting for hours at a time on the warm khan. He 
 squatted in Turkish fashion, and his pudgy figure re- 
 mained motionless. If he had anything to say, it 
 would be something like this : 
 
 "When I am wounded and they bring me to your 
 hospital . . ." 
 
 He now walked with a pronounced stoop, and, like 
 a paralytic old man, shuffled his big feet in their felt 
 boots. 
 
 The order of the Commander-in-Chief was also is- 
 sued to the other institutions. Unrest and gloom en- 
 tered everywhere. 
 
 The chief surgeon passed all the days travelling up 
 and down making frantic efforts to save the super- 
 visor. Formerly Davydov had constantly expressed 
 his dissatisfaction with the supervisor's indolence and 
 lack of business sense. And even now, he referred to 
 him in such words as: "What is this log good for in 
 the line.? He is of no use even here as a supervisor." 
 None the less, he continued his pleas in his behalf: 
 "Just out of the goodness of my heart — I am sorry 
 for the fellow," Davydov himself explained. But every- 
 body around knew clearly the cause of his kindness. 
 The supervisor was inactive and indolent, and this was 
 an advantage to the sly and active chief surgeon, be- 
 cause he could take the whole management into his 
 own hands. Again, the supervisor was obviously an 
 "honest" man, that is, he did not put anything into 
 his pocket and pretended not to see the chief sur- 
 geon's rascality, consequently it was not necessary 
 to share profits with him. He was just the man the 
 chief surgeon wanted. 
 
 Days passed. It so happened that the supervisor's 
 
164 IN THE WAR 
 
 transfer to the regiment was delayed. Some kind of 
 obstacle was met, and it appeared that the matter 
 could be settled only a month later. A month later 
 they forgot all about it. The supervisor remained 
 in the hospital, and the wounded officer who had been 
 appointed to his place again returned to the line. 
 
 Just as imperceptibly, quite accidentally, in conse- 
 quence of an unforeseen concurrence of circumstances, 
 all affairs arranged themselves. Everybody remained 
 in his place — for everybody it appeared possible to 
 make an exception from the rule. The only one who 
 found his way to the line was the supervisor of Sul- 
 tanov's hospital. Of course, it would not have been 
 much work for Sultanov to have kept him, but Sul- 
 tanov was not in the habit of interceding for others, 
 and he had influential connections so high up that no 
 other supervisor was either terrible or inconvenient 
 for him. 
 
 So, once more, in the etapes, at the stations, in the 
 lazarettos and baggage-trains, everywhere were to be 
 seen those robust, well-fed officers. The order of the 
 Commander-in-Chief, just like all his other orders, 
 flapped in the air for a while like a useless scrap of 
 paper, frightening simpletons, and then it disappeared 
 under the cloth. 
 
 To our hospital there came sick men, with now and 
 then a few wounded. Were they to be treated on the 
 spot, or to be transported to the rear? This was a 
 very complex question, with which the authorities were 
 quite unable to cope. If the surgeon of the corps 
 arrived and learned that we transferred the patients, 
 he scolded us : "You have a hospital, and you turn 
 it into a station of etapes. What are your surgeons. 
 Sisters, and drug-stores for.''" If the commander of 
 the sanitary division, Trepov, came and learned that 
 the patients lay there for five or six days, he scolded 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 165 
 
 us: "Why do the patients lie here so long? Why 
 do you not transfer them?" He was simply mad on 
 the question of evacuation. 
 
 General Trepov was the Chief Commander of the 
 whole Sanitary Division of the Army. No one would 
 have been able to say what qualifications he possessed 
 for the management of this responsible position. He 
 had been either a senator or a governor before he 
 dropped into the position of commander of the sani- 
 tary division, and was distinguished chiefly for his 
 amazing lack of business sense; while in matters of 
 medicine he was a downright ignoramus. None the 
 less, the general interfered in purely medical ques- 
 tions, and lavishly scattered reprimands among physi- 
 cians for causes in regard to which he was totally 
 incompetent to judge. 
 
 Once, in inspecting our hospital, his attention 
 rested on a patient who was lying in the ward for 
 chronics. 
 
 "What is his ailment?" 
 
 "Syphilis." 
 
 "What? You place a syphilitic in the common 
 ward ?" 
 
 "Your Excellency, he has it in the tertiary stage, 
 it is not contagious, and we have no separate syphilitic 
 ward. He was placed here to-day, and to-morrow we 
 shall transfer him." 
 
 "That makes no difference! The idea of placing a 
 syphilitic together with other patients ! Let that never 
 happen again!" 
 
 At another time, again in the chronic ward, Trepov 
 saw a soldier with chronic eczema on his face. The 
 patient presented a terrifying appearance, a red, 
 bloated face, with a scaly skin, covered with yellow 
 scabs. The general was beside himself and sternly 
 asked the chief surgeon why such a patient was not 
 isolated,, The chief surgeon respectfully explained 
 
166 IN THE WAR 
 
 that the disease was not contagious. The general grew 
 silent and walked on. As he left, he thanked the chief 
 surgeon for the good order in the hospital. 
 
 After every visit of the higher authorities, the rep- 
 resentative of the military institution is obliged to 
 inform his immediate superiors of the inspection that 
 has taken place, with a statement of all remarks, ap- 
 provals, and reprimands, made by the inspecting 
 authorities. The chief surgeon telegraphed to the 
 Surgeon of the Corps that the Commander of the Sani- 
 tary Division had visited the hospital, and had been 
 satisfied with the order observed. The next day the 
 Surgeon of the Corps came galloping up, and he repri- 
 manded the chief surgeon: 
 
 "You wired me that Trepov found everything in 
 order, whereas Trepov came to see me and informed 
 me that he had reprimanded you for keeping con- 
 tagious patients together with the non-contagious pa- 
 tients." 
 
 The chief surgeon shrugged his shoulders in per- 
 plexity, and explained the matter to the Surgeon of 
 the Corps, saying that he did not consider General 
 Trepov competent enough to reprimand the surgeons 
 in the field of medicine, and that he had not wired about 
 the reprimand from a sense of delicacy, since he did 
 not wish in an ofl[icial paper to put the Commander of 
 the Sanitary Division in a ludicrous situation. All 
 that was left for the Surgeon of the Corps to do was to 
 change the subject of conversation. 
 
 To be a mere surgeon's assistant or a Sister of 
 Mercy, to execute mere administrative duties in mat- 
 ters of medicine, special training was required ; where- 
 as no special information whatsoever was required 
 from a person in order to carry out the most important 
 and responsible medical functions in an army of half 
 a million men. All that was necessary was to have 
 the corresponding rank. Here is a document, and I 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 167 
 
 assure the reader in all seriousness that it is not taken 
 from a comic paper, but that it was given in an ap- 
 pendix to an Order of the Commander-in-Chief of No- 
 vember 18, 1904, under No. 130. 
 
 "The Personnel of the Management of the Chief Com- 
 mander of the Sanitary Division under the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief : 
 
 "Chief Commander of the Sanitary Division (a Lieu- 
 tenant-General) — 1. General for special orders (Ma- 
 jor-General) — 1. Personnel of the management: 
 Commander of the Hospital Division (may be a sur- 
 geon) — 1. Chief of the Evacuating Division (may be 
 a surgeon) — 1. For special orders: staff officers — 2, 
 surgeons — 3. 
 
 "Sanitaro-Statistical Bureau: In charge of the 
 bureau, a Colonel, may be a Major-General (may be 
 a surgeon) — 1. Assistant surgeons — 2. 
 
 "Office of the Chief Field Militaro-Medical In- 
 spector: Chief Field Militaro-Medical Inspector — 1. 
 Chief Field Surgeon — 1. Manager of the office (a sur- 
 geon) — 1. Officers for special orders: Surgeons of 
 the third medical order — 2, of the fourth order — 2. 
 
 "Chief Field Evacuating Commission of the Army: 
 Chairman of the Commission, a Major-General (may 
 be a Colonel) — 1. Chairman's assistants — 2. Chief 
 Surgeon of Commission — 1. For special orders: su- 
 perior officers — 6, surgeons — 10.' 
 
 5> 
 
 The medico-sanitary affairs of the army with the 
 Japanese were in charge of well-known professors of 
 medicine. With us, as may be seen from the document 
 quoted, not a single responsible position, except that 
 of Militaro-Medical Inspector, was entrusted to a sur- 
 geon. Examine the first part of the document, in 
 which the personnel of the central militaro-sanitary 
 management of the whole Army is determined: a lieu- 
 
168 IN THE WAR 
 
 tenant-general, a major-general. In the secondary 
 positions there may he surgeons, but may also be col- 
 onels. Only three positions are definitely in the hands 
 of surgeons, and those are for special orders. 
 
 The whole document strictly follows the same style. 
 Here and there there is a condescending remark in 
 regard to the secondary positions: fnay he a surgeon; 
 but in general the surgeons are entrusted only with 
 the lowest, purely executive duties, such as manage- 
 ment of offices, "for special orders," and so forth. 
 There is only one exception which mars the style: in 
 regard to the chief field surgeon, it does not say that 
 he may he a surgeon. Why.? If the commander of 
 the sanitary division could be a former governor, and 
 the inspector of hospitals an ex-chief of police, why 
 could not the chief field surgeon be, for example, an 
 ex-captain of police? 
 
 But all this is too sad to be laughable. If only, 
 by the side of ignorant generals and lieutenants, the 
 parts of their assistants had been entrusted to tal- 
 ented, well-trained physicians ! There was nothing of 
 the kind. In the management of the army we do not 
 find a single surgeon who passed as an authority in 
 scientific or moral matters. Mediocre surgeons with 
 paper souls of officials, who had passed through a 
 course of military drill until they had completely lost 
 their personalities, presided everywhere. To expect 
 of them a show of genius, independent creative power, 
 warm love for their work, would be the same as look- 
 ing for warm blood and living nerves in reams of offi- 
 cial documents. The reader has seen already in part 
 and will soon see in full what the military carriers of 
 the highest medical offices. General Trepov, Ezerski, 
 Chetyrkin, and so forth, represented in their persons. 
 
 The long sufi^ering Russian Army bore the conse- 
 quences of such a composition of the highest medical 
 management. In the first engagement, near Tu-ren- 
 
OCTOBER TO NQVEMBER 169 
 
 chen, the wounded walked and crawled helplessly for 
 dozens of versts, while hundreds of surgeons and doz- 
 ens of hospitals had nothing to do. The same thing 
 was repeated in all the following engagments, inclusive 
 of the great Mukden Battle. An enormous reserve of 
 military forces, totally untouched, appeared each time, 
 with fateful regularity, and the business of attending 
 to the wounded was so arranged as though our whole 
 Army were provided only Y^ith a few dozens of sur- 
 geons. 
 
 Our superiors produced a staggering impression on 
 an unspoiled soul. I would not have undertaken to rep- 
 resent them in the form of belles-lettres.. No matter 
 how I might soften actuality, how I might dampen the 
 colors, the reader would say that this is a malicious 
 charge, an overdrawn caricature, and that such men 
 could not exist at the present time. 
 
 Indeed, we surgeons of the reserve ourselves thought 
 that such men, especially among surgeons, had long 
 ceased to exist. We looked in amazement at our su- 
 periors, "the senior comrades," who ordered us about. 
 It was as though there arose from grey antiquity dim, 
 hazy phantoms with haughty, dispassionate faces, with 
 goose quills behind their ears, with ink-stand thoughts 
 and paper souls. Before us were materialized the mon- 
 strous sketches from "The Revizor," "Dead Souls," 
 and "Provincial Sketches." 
 
 The subordinates were not supposed to have an 
 opinion of their own, even in purely medical matters. 
 We were not permitted to contradict a diagnosis made 
 by the authorities, no matter how superficial or pur- 
 posely dishonest such a diagnosis might be. The In- 
 spector of the Third Army made the rounds of the 
 hospital in my presence. He took the card of one 
 patient and saw upon it the diagnosis — "typhoid 
 fever." He walked up to the patient and, without 
 
170 IN THE WAR 
 
 removing his shirt, poked him under the left ribs, and 
 pronounced : 
 
 "This is not typhoid fever, but influenza!" 
 
 He ordered the diagnosis to be changed at once. 
 The Militaro-Medical Inspector of the Rear, upon vis- 
 itmg the hospitals under his charge, invariably frowned 
 when he heard the diagnosis of "typhoid fever" from 
 the orderly, and asked: 
 
 "What do you consider to be the symptoms of ty- 
 phoid fever?" 
 
 One of the surgeons answered: 
 
 "Your Excellency, I have already passed my ex- 
 amination, and I am under no obligation to pass it a 
 second time !" 
 
 For his impudence, the surgeon was transferred to 
 the regiment. Dr. M. L.t Kheysin tells in God^s 
 World (1906, No. 6) of an incident which, to a physi- 
 cian who has been in the war, does not sound like an 
 anecdote, but like a most probable fact, arising from 
 the very essence of conditions prevailing there. In- 
 spector v., making the rounds of a hospital, asked 
 the orderly: 
 
 "Has the patient's spleen increased in size?" 
 
 "As you please, Your Excellency," replied the clever 
 orderly. 
 
 The coarseness and ignorance of the militaro-medi- 
 cal authorities surpassed all bounds. It is sad, but it 
 is true: the military generals, in their relations with 
 their subordinates, were, for the most part, coarse and 
 common, but, in comparison with the medical generals, 
 they could serve as models for gentlemen. I have 
 told before how in Mukden Dr. Gorbatsevich used to 
 shout at the surgeons, "Listen, you!" During a visit 
 at our hospital, the inspector of our army asks a com- 
 rade who is in charge for the day: 
 
 "When was the patient put down?" 
 
 "To-day.'^ 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 171 
 
 "When were you put down here?" he says, turning 
 to the patient, 
 
 "To-day," 
 
 Similar kinds of verifications, which any man might 
 have been embarrassed to make in relation to his 
 lackey, were done here with the greatest unconcern in 
 regard to the surgeons. 
 
 By the side of this arrogance, which was intoxicated 
 by its rank and position, went an amazing heartless- 
 ness in relation to the subordinate surgeons. The 
 Evacuating Commission, which, for its severity and 
 fault-finding, was nick-named "Draconic," lists for 
 discharge a surgeon who is just recovering from an 
 extremely severe case of typhoid fever. Without ex- 
 amining the sick comrade, without having once looked 
 at him. Dr. Gorbatsevich reverses the decree of the 
 Commission, and the surgeon, exhausted by his dis- 
 ease, is returned to his former place of duty. What 
 Dr. Gorbatsevich had done with the surgeons ordered 
 to duty during our stay at Mukden was repeated more 
 than once. I happened to be in Mukden in the middle 
 of November. Again some thirty surgeons were run- 
 ning about aimlessly, without knowing where to go — 
 Gorbatsevich had ordered them from Harbin in case 
 of an engagement, and had again cautioned them 
 that they should take no belongings with them. They 
 slept in the inspector's office on mattings laid on the 
 bare floor. 
 
 One could observe only one warm, all-embracing 
 feeling in the dispassionate souls of the military chiefs, 
 and that was a reverent, thrilling love for the paper. 
 The paper was everything — in the paper was life, 
 truth, business. Before me stands alive the thin, bald 
 figure of a Division Surgeon, with a morose, dry face. 
 This was in Si-pin-gay, after the Mukden defeat. 
 
 "Have you lost anything from the baggage-train?" 
 the Chief of the Sanitary Division of our Army asked. 
 
m IN THE WAR 
 
 "Everything is lost, Your Excellency," the Division 
 Surgeon repHed, gloomily. 
 
 "Everything? The tents, the dressing material, and 
 the instruments?" 
 
 "No, all that is safe. But the oflSce is all lost !" 
 
 The general turned away contemptuously, and the 
 face of the Division Surgeon looked more mprose, and 
 his head more bald. 
 
 During the same Mukden retreat, an officer of a 
 half-company wjbich had been ordered to guard a field 
 hospital asked the chief surgeon to look after the 
 provisioning of his soldiers. 
 
 "I can't do it. Lieutenant. I can't!" replied the 
 chief surgeon. 
 
 "Why not? You are provisioning, as it is, a hun- 
 dred men of your detachment." 
 
 "But I can't attend to yours. The baggage-train 
 has not yet wholly arrived, and the office is not here!" 
 
 The officer could not restrain himself: 
 
 "Excuse me, Doctor. You seem to think that my 
 soldiers feed on paper ! No, sir, they won't eat paper !" 
 
 Our Division Surgeon reprimanded the regimental 
 surgeons because all the items were not filled in. 
 
 "But we have no data for these items!" 
 
 "Well, well, that makes no difference. Write in 
 fictitious figures, but let all the items be filled in!" 
 
 In one of our regiments intestinal typhoid fever 
 broke out. The Corps Surgeon asked the regimental 
 surgeon : 
 
 "Have you attended to the disinfection?" 
 
 "Disinfection? Why, we have no material for dis- 
 infection !" 
 
 "Have you attended to the disinfection?" the Corps 
 Surgeon repeated with emphasis. 
 
 "Did I not tell you . . ." 
 
 "I hope you have attended to the disinfection!" 
 
 "Yes, but ..." 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 173 
 
 *«Very well! Please hand me a report that the dis- 
 infection has been attended to!" 
 
 When, in the beginning of November, the fur jackets 
 were at last sent to the Army, the soldiers began to be 
 infected from them with the Siberian plague. Cases 
 of infection occurred in our detachment also. The 
 paper machine began to work, telegrams began to fly 
 from us in all directions, and in reply came flying to 
 us telegrams with strict orders: "Isolate," "disinfect 
 most carefully^" "report about measures taken." We 
 did as we were askedj and wrote a report. The Division 
 Surgeon was not at home, and the report was received 
 by his assistant, who was a friend of ours. He received 
 the report with a serious, business-like face, entered it 
 into a book, madg some kind of note, and sent some- 
 thing somewhere. Then we sat down to have a cup 
 of tea. During the tea, he suddenly asked us, with a 
 sly smile: 
 
 "Among friends, have you really attended to the 
 disinfection?" 
 
 This friendly question gave us a sudden insight into 
 something great and ominous to follow. He most 
 frankly bared before us the whole matter. They write 
 false papers, the superior officers read them and pre- 
 tend that they believe them, because over every au- 
 thority there is a superior authority, and the latter, 
 they hope, will certainly believe them. 
 
 How important the paper was for the medical au- 
 thorities, and how infinitely unimportant the health 
 of a living soldier, is shown by an incredible circular 
 of the Militaro-Medical Inspector Pro Tem of the 
 Army, Dr. Vreden. This circular ought to be entered 
 in huge letters of mourning into the history of the 
 Russian military medical science: 
 
 "In the matter of providing the troops and the 
 militaro-medical institutions in war times with objects 
 of medical necessity," writes Dr. Vreden, "a correct 
 
174 IN THE WAR 
 
 expenditure of these objects is of great importance. 
 They are furnished in definite quantities intended to 
 meet only the most essential needs. On the part of the 
 surgeon is demanded a detailed acquaintance not only 
 with the character of the military patient, but also 
 with the means at the disposal of the Army with which 
 to satisfy the needs of the patient both for treatment 
 and for sustenance — and this acquaintance is attained 
 only by a more or less continuous service in the War 
 Department, whereas almost half of the surgeons of 
 the Manchurian Army belong to those who have been 
 called from the reserve, who have had no experience 
 in the Army or in militaro-medical institutions. As 
 a direct result of the lack of acquaintance with the 
 conditions of war and of militaro-medical service, may 
 be adduced the rapid expenditure of the most necessary 
 means on patients who, presenting only complaints of 
 apparent sickness instead of real suffering, which may 
 be verified by objective data, are not at all in need 
 of medical aid. In consequence, complaints are heard 
 of a lack of medicaments, due to the insufficiency of 
 the militaro-medical supplies, whereas, in reality, there 
 is an ignorance on the part of the surgeons as to the 
 war patients, and an inability to use the means at 
 their command. In directing the attention of the sur- 
 geons subject to my authority to this undesirable phe- 
 nomenon in the expenditure of medical material, I re- 
 quest the more experienced military surgeons to ac- 
 quaint their junior comrades, who have just been sum- 
 moned from the reserve, with the peculiarities of the 
 militaro-medical service as regards the treatment of 
 patients. 
 
 "In recommending the observance of economy in 
 the expenditure of medical material, I have chiefly 
 in view the obviation of a lack of medicaments for the 
 patients who are really in need of them, and not at 
 all economy for the sake of economy. Although in 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 175 
 
 the region of the Manchurian Army and in the rear 
 may be found great supplies of medical property, sent 
 for the need of the Army by the Red Cross Society, 
 yet the ability to use them at any time cannot serve as 
 a justification of a frivolous expenditure of medica- 
 ments and dressing material. Besides, we must keep 
 in mind that the application for the aid of the Red 
 Cross may give cause for an accusation of the militaro- 
 medical department for an insufficient supply to the 
 Army of objects of medical necessity. Without in 
 the least limiting the use of the above-mentioned ob- 
 jects from the supplies of the Red Cross, the Militaro- 
 Medical Field Department considers it necessary to 
 remind the surgeon that this use should take place only 
 in cases of actual need." (Circular of the Militaro- 
 Medical Field Department, Division of Pharmacy, No. 
 1156.) 
 
 I do not know whether it is possible to lay bare the 
 whole barrenness of the Russian militaro-medical con- 
 science more fully than has been done in this circular. 
 Indeed, military medicine is some kind of a special 
 medicine. Our ordinary human scientific medicine will 
 only groan at the juxtaposition of "only complaints 
 of apparent sickness" and "real suffering, which may 
 be verified by objective data": many diseases do not 
 represent any objective data, but in spite of the in- 
 jitnctions of Dr. Vreden, are nevertheless very much 
 "in need of treatment." And the question is not even 
 in regard to freeing the sick soldiers more strictly from 
 work or in regard to evacuating them, — no, the ques- 
 tion is simply in regard to the giving of medicine. Let 
 us make an improbable assumption that half of the 
 patients are without "objective data" — malingerers, 
 who are not in need of treatment. It would seem that 
 for the other half of the sick who are really in need 
 of treatment — for certainly Dr. Vreden is not con- 
 vinced that every disease finds its expression in objec- 
 
176 IN THE WAR 
 
 tive symptoms — it would seem that for the sake of 
 these really sick one might risk wasting medicine in 
 vain on the malingerers. But no, let everybody remain 
 without treatment, for that is not so important. At 
 least, there will be no "complaints of a lack of medi- 
 caments, due to the insufficiency of the militaro-medi- 
 cal supplies." That is far more important, and, mind 
 you, the medical department is afraid of the com- 
 plaints of a lack, and not of the lack itself. There will 
 be no lack. From the same circular we learn that it is 
 easy to obtain the medicaments and dressing material 
 from the Red Cross, which has "large supplies, which 
 may be used at any time." But what of it? "The ap- 
 plication for the aid of the Red Cross may give cause 
 for accusing the militaro^medical department of an 
 insufficient supply to the Army of objects of medical 
 necessity." 
 
 In his circular. Dr. Vreden speaks with great ap- 
 proval of "the experienced military surgeons," and 
 does not express the least doubt but that they will 
 fully comply with "the peculiarities of the militaro- 
 medical service," as indicated in the circular. Is Dr. 
 Vreden calumniating the military surgeons, or did they 
 really deserve his approval? 
 
 In one of our regiments a severe epidemic of intes- 
 tinal typhoid broke out. The dressing station was 
 overrun with typhoid patients. The junior surgeons 
 pointed this out to the senior regimental surgeon, a 
 military man. "But no, this is not typhoid fever! 
 What's the use of sending them to the hospital? Let 
 them get well here!" 
 
 We showed him the roseola — "not distinct!" We 
 showed him the swollen spleen — "not distinct!" And 
 the patients overcrowded the station. And it was 
 right here that the men were received from the ambu- 
 lances. The typhoid patients who left the buildings 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 177 
 
 for necessity fainted away. The junior surgeons were 
 provoked and pressed the senior surgeon hard. He 
 ultimately gave in and went to the chief of the 
 regiment. The colonel was angry: 
 
 "No, no, there is no need of sending them to the 
 hospital! What's the use? Why, some people go 
 through a case of typhoid while up and about. This 
 is not at all such a dangerous disease, and besides, is it 
 typhoid?" 
 
 But the patients kept coming, and there was no 
 empty place left. Willy-nilly, it became necessary 
 to send a dozen of the more seriously ill to our hos- 
 pital. They were sent without a diagnosis. At the 
 door of the hospital one of the patients, upon leaving 
 the cart, fell into a swoon before the eyes of our Corps 
 Surgeon. The Corps Surgeon examined those who were 
 brought, became excited, and drove off to the regiment, 
 — and the station was at last cleared of typhoid pa- 
 tients. 
 
 In another regiment of our Division, the senior sur- 
 geon had only two expressions in regard to the sick 
 soldiers, and these were "malingering" and "faking." 
 In every soldier he saw a malingerer. I have told of 
 this surgeon in the first chapter of the "Memoirs," how 
 he denounced as malingerers two soldiers who, upon 
 investigation by the junior surgeon, turned out to 
 be absolutely unfit for service. It was a fixed deter- 
 mination of this surgeon to account for not more than 
 twenty ambulance patients a day. In reality, there 
 were seventy or eighty. But what kind of sanitary 
 condition would that show for the regiment? 
 
 Once, while I was in charge of the hospital, they 
 brought several sick soldiers. One of them attracted 
 my attention by the expression on his face: the young 
 fellow, with a low, receding brow, betrayed in his eyes 
 dull, repressed suffering, while the corners of his lips 
 had a pronounced droop. 
 
178 IN THE WAR 
 
 "Where does it hurt?" 
 
 "Your Honor, he is deaf, he does not hear," the 
 regimental surgeon's assistant informed me. 
 
 I shouted mj questions into the soldier's ears. He 
 acted as though he awoke from deep meditation, re- 
 peated my question and answered it. 
 
 During the October engagements he had been hit 
 by a bullet in his hip. He had lately been ordered 
 back to the line from the Harbin hospital, and he had 
 a pronounced limp in his right leg. 
 
 I asked him how long he had been deaf. The sol- 
 dier told me that some three years before, previous to 
 his entrance into military service, he had been hauling 
 hay to the ricks, when he fell from the wagon and 
 struck the ground with his head. Since that time he 
 had a noise in his ears, and he suffered from vertigo 
 until deafness set in. 
 
 "I was taken into the Army because they did not 
 believe me when I said I was hard of hearing," he said, 
 apathetically. "In the company both the sergeant 
 and the drill corporals knocked me hard on my head. 
 Now I am completely deaf. I was afraid to complain, 
 because they would have beaten me to death. When I 
 went to the station, the doctor said, 'You are only 
 pretending. I'll have you court-martialled !' So I 
 stopped going to the station." 
 
 AH evening the face of that fellow stood before me, 
 and I felt uncomfortable and pained. 
 
 I told the chief surgeon about him. In the morning 
 a committee of us investigated the case of a soldier 
 who was suffering from hernia, for the purpose of 
 transporting him to Russia. I proposed to the chief 
 surgeon to investigate about the deaf fellow at the 
 same time. We went up to his cot. 
 
 "Put on your cloak," the chief surgeon said in his 
 usual voice, stealthily watching the patient. 
 
 The soldier did not move. The chief surgeon shouted 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 179 
 
 louder, the soldier got up hurriedly and put on his 
 cloak. 
 
 The instruments were brought. Shantser, who was 
 a specialist in diseases of the ear, otoscoped the sick 
 man. The back part of one of the ear-drum mem- 
 branes was hardened. Shantser helplessly shrugged 
 his shoulders. 
 
 "It is difficult to prove anything here," he said. 
 "Science possesses no means with which to tell whether 
 the patient is simulating deafness in both ears." 
 
 "Never mind! Go on investigating. I shall find 
 out," the chief surgeon whispered, with a sly smile. 
 
 He spoke carelessly with the soldier and secretly 
 watched him. He spoke, now louder, now softer, put 
 sudden questions, and attacked him from all sides, 
 watching him with treacherously piercing eyes. Sud- 
 denly the question flashed through my mind, where 
 am I? In a hospital with physicians, or in a detention 
 ward amidst gendarmes and detectives .^^ 
 
 "He is simulating," the chief surgeon declared, con- 
 clusively and solemnly. "Observe, to Dr. Shantser's 
 questions he answers immediately, and mine he doesn't 
 seem to hear at all." 
 
 "This is quite natural," I retorted. "Shantser's 
 voice is sonorous, and yours is low and dull." 
 
 "No, no, do not contradict me, I can smell a rat. I 
 saw at once that he was simulating. From what gov- 
 ernment do you come?" 
 
 The patient listened attentively. 
 
 "Government .f^ From the Government of Perm!" 
 he exclaimed. 
 
 "From Perm," the chief surgeon drawled out. "Do 
 you see? This is an important confirmation: accord- 
 ing to statistics, the inhabitants of the Government of 
 Perm occupy the leading place in appealing to dis- 
 eases of the ear for the purpose of being free from 
 military service." 
 
180 IN THE WAR 
 
 "I do not know about that. But, to judge from his 
 story, he certainly is not simulating," Shantser re- 
 torted. "Was there a running from the ear? No, 
 there was not. Deafness did not develop immediately 
 after the fall, but gradually, and at first there was 
 only a noise in the ears. Only a specialist in diseases 
 of the ear, and not a peasant, could simulate in this 
 manner." 
 
 "No, no, no. An unquestionable malingerer!" the 
 chief surgeon said, decidedly. "You civil surgeons do 
 not know the conditions of military service, and you 
 are in the habit of believing every patient. That's 
 where they get the best of you. Humanitarianism is 
 out of place here." 
 
 We disputed with him violently. The deafness of 
 the patient was certain. But let us assume that it was 
 merely probable to a certain degree, — what crime the 
 chief surgeon took upon himself in sending to the 
 front a deaf soldier, who, besides, was also lame. But 
 the more we insisted, the more did the chief surgeon 
 stick to his opinion : he had an "inner conviction," that 
 imperturbable "inner conviction," which is in no need 
 of facts, and depends on the sense of smell, such as 
 detectives lay claim to. 
 
 The soldier was returned to the regiment. 
 
 The more I examined "the peculiarities of the mili- 
 taro-medical service," the more clear it became to me 
 that these peculiarities, partly through natural selec- 
 tion, partly through the reconstruction of the human 
 soul, were bound to produce a particular type of sur- 
 geon. 
 
 A soldier is drafted into service by force, and is not 
 connected with his business by any interests, hence 
 he naturally will pretend that he is sick. Now the sur- 
 geon approaches the sick man, not with the idea of 
 helping him, but with the question as to whether or not 
 he Is simulating. This necessity of constantly acting 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 181 
 
 the detective by degrees transforms the soul of the 
 surgeon, and develops in it an attitude of suspicion, 
 a desire "to catch," "to trip" the patient. There is 
 worked out a profound hostile distrust of sick soldiers 
 in general. "Malingerer" is a permanent word in the 
 lexicon of a military surgeon; for him his patient is, 
 above all, a malingerer, and the contrary has to be 
 proved. Dr. Kheysin tells in the above-mentioned 
 article a story about a military surgeon : this surgeon 
 gave the soldiers his "mixture," which consisted of 
 such doses of emetics as would cause no vomiting, but 
 would only give a predisposition for vomiting. "If 
 the sick man is a malingerer, he won't come a second 
 time, and he will warn other people !" I have already 
 told how our Army was swamped by soldiers ordered 
 back from the hospitals, who, according to the testi- 
 mony of the Commander-in-Chief, "were either totally 
 unfit for service, or who had not yet completely re- 
 covered from diseases." Laymen saw that these were 
 sick people; but to a surgeon, who was obfuscated 
 by his "experience," which had destroyed his soul, all 
 these were malingerers only. It is obvious that the 
 same prejudice about the malingering quality of the 
 Russian soldier existed in the head of Dr. Vreden when 
 he composed his shameless circular. 
 
 Another "peculiarity of the militaro-medical serv- 
 ice" consisted in the fact that there existed the most 
 unnatural relations between the surgeon and the pa- 
 tient. The surgeon appeared as "the authority," and 
 was obliged to say "thou" to the patient and to receive 
 as a reply the senseless "So it is, sir," "Not at all, sir," 
 "At your service, sir." The surgeon was surrounded 
 by a useless, senseless atmosphere of that reverent, spe- 
 cifically military awe which so ruins the officers, and 
 causes them to look upon the soldiers as inferior beings. 
 How easily and how rapidly this atmosphere intoxi- 
 cates a man, is shown by a characteristic polemic epi- 
 
182 IN THE WAR 
 
 sode which displayed itself during the war, on the 
 pages of The Russian Surgeon. 
 
 In the Twelfth Movable Field Hospital, a Mrs. Dr. 
 A. Bek acted in the capacity of a supernumerary 
 Sister of Mercy. Once, during the march, Assistant 
 Supervisor Rutyshev beat a soldier. In the evening, 
 during the stop, perturbed Mrs. Bek reported the 
 matter to the chief surgeon of the hospital, Dr. 
 Aristov. The chief surgeon tried to pay no attention, 
 while the supervisor justified his assistant. "Seeing 
 that the conversation was coming to an end," writes 
 Mrs. Bek, "I asked whether a soldier had a right to 
 complain. Then Dr. Aristov coarsely shouted at me, 
 'That is none of your business ! You have no right 
 to interfere in other people's aif airs ! If you do not 
 like the way our hospital is run, you may leave it !' " 
 This all ended with Mrs. Bek's compulsory departure. 
 She told of the incident in a letter to The Russian 
 Surgeon, In reply, four junior surgeons of the 
 same hospital, Drs. A. Vertgeym, Danileyko, Kabanov, 
 and L. Frantsuzov, sent a letter to the same Russian 
 Surgeon (1905, No. 34). "The immediate cause of 
 Dr. A. Bek's conflict with the chief surgeon," they 
 wrote, "was, after the discussion of the fact of the 
 soldier's punishment itself, the untimely and improper 
 question of Dr. A. Bek in the presence of the orderlies : 
 'Has this soldier a right to complain.'" — a question 
 embodied in the form of a caution and almost a threat, 
 that, if the soldier has a right to complain, she would 
 not leave the matter alone." The authors of the letter 
 declare that, "of course," this incident could not 
 change their good relation to the chief surgeon, since 
 "in this incident S. A. Aristov is no more, if not less, 
 guilty, for his excited nerves, than Dr. A. Bek for her 
 improper form of question." 
 
 The junior surgeons of the hospital were from the 
 reserve, consequently the authors of the letter had 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 183 
 
 worn the military uniform for but a few months ; and 
 yet how rapidly they had adapted themselves to the 
 specifically military order, how swiftly they had 
 adopted in respect to the soldiers that particular at- 
 titude which is to be taken with regard to other men! 
 A man is beaten. Those who are obliged to protect 
 him, keep quiet. And suddenly — just think of it! — 
 Mrs. Bek permits herself the improper tactlessness, as 
 "a caution, and almost a threat," of teaching a man 
 how to enter a complaint ! And that, too, in the pres- 
 ence of other soldiers, who, for all you know, may 
 remember that they are men, and, having their ears 
 boxed, may ask for redress from the offender! 
 
 This "experienced" military surgeon, who keeps 
 silent where it would be necessary to burst out in 
 anger for the lawless act committed, these young sur- 
 geons, who are indignant at the "untimely" intercession 
 — it was these who, in the place of a friendly surgeon, 
 stood at the bed of the sick soldier* We were to our 
 patients "Your Honor," and it took great efforts in 
 a well-meaning surgeon to keep the patients from notic- 
 ing the perfectly useless uniform of the surgeon which 
 persistently flitted before their eyes. 
 
 In the above-mentioned circular. Dr. Vreden rec- 
 ommends emphatically to the surgeons under his 
 charge, not to waste medicaments "frivolously," and 
 to turn for aid to the Red Cross "only in cases of 
 real necessity." To an outsider it is very hard to 
 understand why the militaro-medical department was 
 so afraid to be under obligation to the Red Cross. In 
 reality, these institutions had the same common aim — 
 of bringing surgical aid to one and the same Russian 
 Army. What wrong or impropriety was there, then, 
 if these institutions showed each other the broadest 
 possible mutual aid? 
 
 The surgeons themselves could not for a long time 
 
184 IN THE WAR 
 
 familiarize themselves with the idea that the two gov- 
 ernmental departments which attended to the medical 
 business of the Army were not fraternal institutions, 
 but two mutually hostile camps. In case of necessity, 
 the surgeons continued to apply to the stores of the 
 Red Cross, unable to comprehend the essence of Dr. 
 Vreden's cautioning references to "a real necessity." 
 Then the Militaro-Medical Inspector, Dr. Gorbatse- 
 vich, issued the following circular: 
 
 "The Chief Militaro-Medical Inspector, in a telegram 
 of August 8 of this year, under No. S344, expresses 
 his dissatisfaction because certain surgeons of the 
 army and hospital units turned to the institutions of 
 the Red Cross for medicaments, dressing materials, and 
 other medical supplies, and even surgical instruments, 
 whereas such demands should not arise in considera- 
 tion of the full supply of the field drug-store and of 
 the temporary military stores in objects of medical 
 necessity, such as have already been furnished, or in 
 case of need may be furnished by order of the Chief 
 Militaro-Medical Department. Wherefore I beg Your 
 Excellency to command the surgeons of the army and 
 militaro-medical institution units under your charge 
 to ask for medical supplies in the future exclusively 
 from the field drug-store of its divisions." (Circular 
 of the Mihtaro-Medical Field Department, No. 5391.) 
 
 How this field drug-store acted is shown by a letter 
 of a military surgeon, as printed in the newspaper. 
 Our Days, 
 
 ^'During the whole summer we had no castor oil — 
 we had no time to lay in a supply," writes this surgeon. 
 "We have a so-called central field drug-store. During 
 the whole summer, the Harbin hospitals begged in tears 
 to be supplied with castor oil, but there was none, and 
 the hospital that demanded a pud, received from the 
 field drug-store a pound, whereas in the summer, on 
 account of the diarrhoea, castor oil is daily bread for 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 185 
 
 the hospitals. Why was there none? I shall tell you 
 why : the field hospital wired to the factory of militaro- 
 medical preparations for two thousand pounds of 
 castor oil, but, after a considerable delay, the factory 
 answered with the question: 'What has caused such 
 a demand?' It became necessary to write a detailed 
 report why and wherefore. In such a correspondence 
 three or four months passed, until, at last, instead of 
 two thousand pounds, we received one hundred, and the 
 summer had meantime almost come to an end. A mass 
 of the most necessary objects are lacking, while others 
 are prepared in quantities ten times larger than neces- 
 sary. Thus, for example, there is a terrible lack of 
 gauze dressings, while there is an endlegs supply of 
 gypsum dressings. To meet the lack, our medical de- 
 partment concocted the following combination: if a 
 hospital demands a hundred gauze dressings, they 
 supply twenty-five gauze and seventy-five gypsum 
 dressings ; but gypsum dressings cannot in any way 
 take the place of gauze dressings, so the hospitals got 
 ahead of the medical department in the following man- 
 ner: if they needed one hundred gauze dressings, they 
 ordered from the field drug-store four hundred, and 
 thus received the desired quantity. Thanks to this, 
 one may find in any hospital, in all the nooks where 
 there is a free spot, gypsum dressings by the thou- 
 sand. What a mass of papers the hospitals have to 
 write before they can get anything from the field drug- 
 store!" (Quoted from The Practical Surgeon, 1905y 
 No. 3.) 
 
 There was the one Russian Army. The medical 
 needs of this Army were attended to by an enormous 
 mass of institutions of every kind, and these institu- 
 tions were almost in no way connected with one an- 
 other. The militaro-medical department. The Red 
 Cross. The social organizations of the county, of the 
 
186 IN THE WAR 
 
 city, of the nobility. A layman would have great diffi- 
 culty in understanding what these separate institutions 
 were for. A plan of a militaro-medical organization 
 in the theatre of war assumes no accessory aid, and 
 exhausts all the sides of the matter ; and I affirm posi- 
 tively that the surgical forces in the militaro-medical 
 department sufficed amply, and might easily have satis- 
 fied all the medical needs of the Army with their own 
 means, — under a proper management, of course. It 
 would seem that common sense said: what is the use 
 of founding new and not at all inexpensive medical 
 centres and departments, and what is the use of paying 
 liberal salaries to a mass of "voluntary" surgeons and 
 assistants, when there are enough of them in the mili- 
 tary department? Would it not have been more 
 sensible to turn these tens of millions of money straight 
 into the hands of the militaro-medical authorities for 
 the improvement and expansion of military institutions 
 already in existence? 
 
 But such considerations, which are based on per- 
 fectly clear and obvious data, in reality could only 
 provoke a smile: all this would be very easy, simple, 
 and reasonable, if there were any faith in the govern- 
 mental accomplishers of the medical destinies of the 
 Army. But there was and could be no faith in them, 
 and society said: ''What we give of our own free 
 will, we shall expend ourselves, and not entrust to you." 
 Thus a mass of money was spent unproductively, in 
 order at least to make proper use of the other half. It 
 is true that, to a certain extent, there were considera- 
 tions here which had nothing in common with the war. 
 During Plehve's terrible regime, the Liberals wanted 
 to make use of the county organizations for the aid 
 of the wounded, in order to create, at least on this 
 basis, a possibility of that union of the county forces 
 which Plehve opposed at all costs. It Is another ques- 
 tion, whether or not those hundreds of thousands 
 
OCTOBER TO NOVEMBER 187 
 
 which the Zemstvos donated for the organization from 
 their hungry and illiterate Governments, were justified 
 by the desire for this union. In my opinion they were 
 not. None the less, irrespective of the sums expended, 
 the activity of the social organizations in the war was 
 very fruitful, as we shall see, thanks to that very fact 
 that these organizations depended but little on the 
 militaro-medical authorities. The government — that 
 majestic something which did not admit even a shadow 
 of doubt of its infallibility — at the same time accepted, 
 as something perfectly natural, that distrust of society 
 towards itself, and suffered along with it the inde- 
 pendent work of the social forces. 
 
 Thus stood the matter with the social organizations. 
 Having made clear the general situation, everybody 
 could understand their separate existence. But to- 
 tally hopeless would be an attempt to understand the 
 existence of the separate Red Cross. Like the militaro- 
 medical department, it was also a governmental insti- 
 tution and was exempt from social control. It derived 
 its support partly from donations to the government, 
 partly from obligatory revenues — railway tickets, and 
 so forth. Why were not these sums directly entrusted 
 to the militaro-medical department, since the govern- 
 ment had faith in it? What was the use in these 
 fabulous sums paid out to all kinds of plenipoten- 
 tiaries and inspectors-general, this maintenance of a 
 multitudinous "voluntary" medical and economic per- 
 sonnel ? 
 
 And thus there came about the amazing phenomenon 
 that two government departments worked in the Army 
 at one and the same thing, while their mode of life 
 afforded no comparison. It was as though two strange 
 men were living side by side, one rich and luxurious, 
 the other poor and in want. In the Red Cross there 
 was luxury: it made a display of the newest medical 
 appliances and means, which were expensive, and fre- 
 
188 IN THE WAR 
 
 quently offensively superfluous, while in the military hos- 
 pitals there were not even the most necessary things, — 
 there were no sterilizers for the dressing material, and 
 no supply of tincture of opium, no adonis. At the 
 Red Cross the stores almost collapsed under the weight 
 of boxes of expensive, rare wines. In my presence 
 an officer in the car presented to his chance fellow 
 travellers a bottle apiece of excellent Martelli cognac. 
 His fellow travellers were reluctant in accepting them, 
 but the officer said good-naturedly: 
 
 "Don't have any compunction. I have a whole box 
 of them. My friend, who is a student of medicine, is 
 serving with the Red Cross !" 
 
 There were, obviously, enormous supplies there; 
 expensive wines were given away to friends by the 
 box! But with us in the military hospitals there was 
 a great lack of common brandy, whereas a good glass- 
 ful of brandy was worth as much as the most expensive 
 medicines to a chilled, drenched, and hungry wounded 
 man. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE GREAT STAND! DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 
 
 Towards the end of November we received a new order 
 to move two versts to the south, to the village of 
 M — — n, where Sultanov's hospital had been stationed 
 for almost two months without being disturbed by 
 anybody. Again we evacuated all the patients, again 
 we packed up the hospital, and transferred ourselves 
 to M n. Once more we started to fix up the farm- 
 houses for the patients, but this time it was done on 
 a large scale. 
 
 Previous to our arrival, a little incident occurred in 
 Sultanov's hospital. 
 
 Sultanov had but lately entered military service, 
 and was not in possession of any decorations. For 
 the Sha-ho Engagement he was recommended for his 
 first reward — a Stanislaus of the first degree, which 
 every little official gets. But the commander of the 
 corps was very anxious to push Sultanov ahead. He 
 always kept Sultanov's hospital in advance of the 
 others for this very purpose, so that in case of an 
 engagement it might appear "in a front position," and 
 Sultanov might be recommended for a Vladimir. The 
 hospital was stationed in a well-to-do village which 
 was not occupied by any military unit. It was pos- 
 sible to fix oneself comfortably in the numerous roomy 
 farmhouses, and to prepare the rooms for the patients. 
 Thus the hospital was pretty and clean, like a toy, 
 and it was ridiculous even to compare with it the 
 
 189 
 
190 IN THE WAR 
 
 other hospitals, which were crowded into a couple of 
 poor, dirty farmhouses. 
 
 When everything was ready, the Corps Commander 
 arranged matters in such a way that the Commander- 
 in-Chief expressed his desire to inspect Sultanov's 
 hospital. In the expectation of Kuropatkin, they 
 cleaned, washed, and swept in the hospital every day. 
 Near the entrance to the hall Novitskaya and Zinaida 
 Arkadevna placed two large wreaths of evergreens. 
 
 Kuropatkin arrived, but not from the direction from 
 which he was expected. He left his carriage in an* 
 angry mood, and did not accept the report of the chief 
 surgeon. 
 
 "Do tell me, what kind of roads are these near your 
 hospital! I was almost thrown out going over a 
 hillock. How are you going to fetch the wounded over 
 such roads?" 
 
 He entered the hall, without paying any attention 
 to the decorations. He walked up to a shining hand- 
 basin and raised the lid — the inside of the handbasin 
 was dirty. He ordered a fire to be made in the stove — 
 the stove smoked. He looked through all the rooms, 
 then asked Sultanov: 
 
 "How many beds have you here?" 
 
 "One hundred and twenty, Your Excellency!" 
 
 "One hundred and twenty ? How many beds are 
 there supposed to be in a movable hospital?" 
 
 "Hem! Two hundred. Your Excellency," answered 
 pale Sultanov. 
 
 "Very well. Order six hundred beds. Pay atten- 
 tion to the roads of approach, the stoves, and the hand- 
 basins." 
 
 Kuropatkin drove away, not very enthusiastic. Sul- 
 tanov lazily rubbed his hands, and said in his careless, 
 sarcastic voice: 
 
 "There is trouble with the authorities. What on 
 earth has brought him here? His Excellency wanted 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 191 
 
 to have a pleasant afternoon drive, so we have to suffer 
 for his disappointment." 
 
 Two days later there arrived a colonel and a sur- 
 geon, who asked for Sultanov. Sultanov came out. 
 
 "We are from the Commander-in-Chief," the sur- 
 geon announced, politely. "Have his orders been car- 
 ried out ?" 
 
 Sultanov was confused. 
 
 "But when could I do so.''" 
 
 "What do you mean.''" the surgeon asked in sur- 
 prise. "The Commander-in-Chief sent me yesterday, 
 but I couldn't get here before. Have they at least 
 started the work.''" 
 
 "Yes, sir. We have written to the Staff of the Di- 
 vision." 
 
 "Indeed, that is not work, but scribbling. Have you 
 done anything.''" 
 
 "What can I do? I haven't any means for it." 
 
 The surgeon pensively twisted his little beard. 
 
 "Do you want me to report that way to the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief .f'" 
 
 And they drove off. 
 
 Kuropatkin wired to the Corps Commander that he 
 had found the hospital in absolute chaos, that he 
 ascribed the entire blame for it to the carelessness of 
 the persons in charge, and that he ordered him to take 
 the most energetic measures in order to put the hos- 
 pital in shape. 
 
 Sultanov pretended to be undisturbed, smiled, and 
 said: 
 
 "I don't care ! So long as they don't hang me, it's 
 all the same to me. We all came here in order to meet 
 with unpleasant things. One unpleasantness more or 
 less — ^what difference does it make.^"' 
 
 In the village work began to seethe. The Corps 
 Commander sent a company of sappers to fix the roads 
 and the farmhouses. It was decreed that the village 
 
192 IN THE WAR 
 
 was to be turned into a whole hospital town, and our 
 hospital and division lazaretto was transferred to it. 
 The Corps Commander managed to obtain three thou- 
 sand rubles for the repair of the hospitals, and ap- 
 pointed Sultanov to take charge of the work. 
 
 While waiting for the farmhouses to be fixed up for 
 our hospital, we sat without anything to do. The work 
 soon slacked up. But the apartments for Sultanov 
 and Novitskaya were arranged in a marvellous manner. 
 The officers of sappers, in charge of the work, sat 
 for days at a time in Sultanov's rooms, dined there, and 
 kissed Novitskaya's hands. 
 
 In Sultanov's hospital there were continuous cele- 
 brations. There were constant visits from the Corps 
 Commander, and from all kinds of generals and staff 
 officers. Frequently Sultanov drove off with Novit- 
 skaya and Zinaida Arkadevna to dine with the com- 
 mander of the corps. 
 
 In the hospital, Novitskaya was in full, uncontrolled 
 command. She scolded the soldiers and returned 
 them to the line with the connivance of the chief sur- 
 geon. The soldiers of the detachment were obliged 
 to stand at attention before her. The surgeons 
 thought it impossible for Novitskaya to carry out their 
 commands; she ignored them completely. There were 
 constant conflicts between them. 
 
 Novitskaya was a senior Sister in the hospital, but 
 instead of attending to the sick, she looked after the 
 hospital in general. The meals for the patients were 
 usually ordered in the evening. Once a surgeon for- 
 got in the evening to order the meals. The Sister in 
 charge came in the morning to Novitskaya for eggs 
 and milk. 
 
 "You have no written order, so I won't let you 
 have it!" 
 
 The surgeon wrote out the order, and the Sister 
 came with it for a second time to Novitskaya. 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 193 
 
 "Tell your doctor that he will get neither milk nor 
 eggs. He must write the orders in proper time !" ex- 
 claimed Novitskaya. 
 
 The Sister returned to the hall and told the surgeon. 
 The surgeon drooped his head in perplexity. Senior 
 Surgeon Vasilev entered the hall. The surgeon in- 
 formed him of "Her Majesty's" refusal and asked 
 him what to do. Were the patients to go hungry.? 
 Just at that moment, Novitskaya entered the room. 
 
 "Plere is the Sister," Vasilev said. "Please give the 
 patients milk and eggs at once!" 
 
 "I told you that you would get nothing. Next time 
 write your orders in the evening!" 
 
 Vasilev's small black eyes rolled fiercely. 
 
 "Madam, do you understand what you are saying? 
 Sister, I am the senior surgeon, and I command you 
 to give milk and eggs to the sick at once !" 
 
 "You will get neither milk nor eggs !" Novitskaya 
 blurted out, and left the room, banging the door. 
 
 The sick soldiers looked up in amazement. Vasilev 
 went to the chief surgeon. Sultanov was drinking cof- 
 fee with some colonel. 
 
 "Sir Chief Surgeon! Please tell me, is it by your 
 order that the weak patients are to be starved 
 to-day .?" 
 
 "What is it? What's the matter?" Sultanov said, 
 frowning. "What nonsense you speak!" 
 
 He ordered milk and eggs for the patients. 
 
 The detachment of Sultanov's hospital went hungry. 
 Our chief surgeon grabbed everything in sight, but he 
 and the supervisor looked after the detachment and 
 the horses. Sultanov stole just as much as he forged 
 documents, but he did not look after a soul. The sol- 
 diers' food was disgusting, and they lived in cold 
 rooms. The horses of the baggage train looked like 
 skin-covered skeletons. The supervisor beat the sol- 
 diers mercilessly. They entered a complaint with Sul- 
 
194 IN THE WAR 
 
 tanov. Sultanov stamped his feet, and shouted at 
 the soldiers. 
 
 "Don't you know the order of things? You must 
 enter complaints through the supervisor!" 
 
 In accordance with the amazing military rules, if I 
 complain against my chief, I must hand in the com- 
 plaint to him? The bolder of the soldiers went to the 
 supervisor, explained to him their trouble, and asked 
 him to forward the complaint higher up. 
 
 "I'll show you a complaint! I'll show you 'higher 
 up !' " answered the supervisor, beating the complain- 
 ants with a knout. 
 
 The soldiers constantly saw generals celebrating 
 in the hospitals, and they knew how useless it was to 
 expect any protection from them. So they walked 
 about gloomily, silently, always looking unkempt, and 
 presenting a sorry sight. 
 
 Sultanov's hospital began to become famous, not 
 only in the corps, but in the whole Army. They told 
 everywhere of Sultanov's and Novitskaya's exploits, 
 and of their almighty power. Behind their backs they 
 cursed them, but in their presence they were polite and 
 attentive. No laws, no orders existed for Sultanov. 
 Orders kept constantly arriving in our institutions 
 from the staff of the corps, now to send to the staff 
 a dozen carts for the hauling of provender and fuel, 
 now to transfer to the staff from the economic sums a 
 few hundred rubles, for the purchase of stereotubes or 
 American wagons. Naturally all the institutions im- 
 mediately carried out the orders, but Sultanov left 
 them even without a reply. 
 
 The personnel of the division lazaretto, which had 
 also been transferred to our village, had fixed up a 
 farmhouse superbly for its quarters: they put up a 
 fine stove, papered the ceiling with white paper and 
 the walls with golden matting, and put window-panes 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 195 
 
 into the windows. Sultanov and Novitskaya once en- 
 tered the house. They looked at it in surprise and 
 curiosity, and admired it greatly. Two days later, 
 there suddenly came an order from the corps for the 
 
 division lazaretto to move from M n to East Chen- 
 
 hou-zu. It was an unnecessary, senseless change, only 
 one verst further to the north. It was clear to every- 
 body that it was the doing of Sultanov and Novitskaya, 
 who had taken a liking to the farmhouse. 
 
 "What more does she want? As it is, she is living 
 almost in a palace," said the expelled surgeons, in 
 annoyance. 
 
 Once the Division Surgeon received a paper from 
 Sultanov. In this paper Sultanov wrote that "in ac- 
 cordance with the Corps Commander's personal 
 order, he recommended the Sisters of Mercy of his 
 hospital for decoration: Sisters Novitskaya and Bul- 
 anina (Zinaida Arkadevna) for gold medals on an 
 Anna ribbon, "for zealous and self-sacrificing atten- 
 tion to the wounded in the engagement near the River 
 Sha-ho"; two other Sisters who had really worked 
 zealously and with self-sacrifice, Sultanov recom- 
 mended for silver medals on a Stanislaus ribbon, simply 
 "for attending to the wounded." 
 
 This recommendation provoked even our division 
 surgeon, a decrepit, egotistical man, with the soul 
 of an official, who thought only of himself. He added 
 on the paper a note that, in his opinion, Sister Valezh- 
 nikova (Vyera Nikolaevna) also deserved a gold medal, 
 the more so since in attending to the sick she had 
 contracted typhoid fever. 
 
 "But there is no reason to recommend Novitskaya 
 for a gold medal," his assistant remarked to him. 
 "Everybody knows that she doesn't even see the pa- 
 tients, but only drives out to the staff for dinner. A 
 silver medal will do for her!" 
 
 The assistant of the division surgeon was a man 
 
196 IN THE WAR 
 
 with a soul. He twisted his decrepit and stupid pa- 
 tron as he willed; but now, for the first time during 
 their whole joint service, the division surgeon flashed 
 his eyes and yelled at him: 
 
 "That is none of your business ! Please keep quiet !" 
 
 Having learned of Sultanov's recommendations, our 
 chief surgeon hastened to recommend his Sisters, also, 
 for medals, — the senior Sister, who already had a 
 silver medal for service in Russia, for a gold medal, the 
 others for silver medals. 
 
 The recommendations were attended to at once, only 
 Vyera Nikolaevna, I think, got only a silver medal. 
 Novitskaya, who all the time lived in the "higher 
 spheres," haughtily ignored the opinions of the other 
 Sisters, but Zinaida Arkadevna felt embarrassed. She 
 ran in to see our Sisters, to inform them that she had 
 received a gold medal. Beaming with joy, she was 
 provoked because our Sisters had been given silver 
 medals, "whereas all had worked alike." She explained 
 it in this way, that women of the nobility are supposed 
 to get gold medals, while burgher women get silver 
 medals. 
 
 "This is simply shocking!" She tried to act the 
 liberal. "Well, let that pass. So long as there is 
 such a law, you can't help it. But why did Sultanov 
 give Novitskaya and me a better recommendation than 
 the other Sisters .^^ Haven't we all worked alike? I 
 really can't endure such injustice!" And immedi- 
 ately, transported with joy, she added: "Now, I must 
 arrange matters in such a way as to receive a medal on 
 a St. George ribbon, otherwise it wasn't worth while 
 coming here!" 
 
 Christmas Eve arrived. The Japanese threw notes 
 into our trenches, informing us that the Russians 
 might calmly celebrate the holiday, that the Japanese 
 would not trouble or disturb them. Of course, nobody 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 19T 
 
 believed the sly Asiatics. Everybody expected a sudden 
 night attack. In the night we received a telegraphic 
 order : in view of the expected engagement, the two chief 
 surgeons of the hospitals were to go to the division laza- 
 retto immediately, each taking with them two junior 
 surgeons and two Sisters. Our division lazaretto had 
 for some days been moved from Chen-hou-zu some four 
 versts to the south, to the positions themselves. 
 
 The order presented a flagrant case of lawlessness: 
 the chief surgeon of a hospital may, under no circum- 
 stances, be ordered away from his hospital, once it 
 is established. In the given circumstances this trans- 
 fer of the chief surgeons to the positions was a straight 
 piece of stupidity: if a severe engagement were ahead, 
 there would be a great deal to do, not only in the 
 division lazarettos, but also in the hospitals. How, 
 then, could the hospitals be left without the chief sur- 
 geons? Besides, it was quite uncertain whether any 
 additional surgeons would be required in the lazaretto, 
 or whether there would be any engagement at all. 
 
 The affair left no doubts: Sultanov needed a Vladi- 
 mir with the swords, and Novitskaya and Zinaida 
 Arkadevna wanted medals on St. George ribbons. 
 Had Sultanov been ordered there, with the two ladies, 
 that would have attracted too much attention. So 
 half of the medical personnel of the two hospitals was 
 moved "to the positions." 
 
 It had long been dark, and we drove out with lan- 
 terns. The night was calm, and as warm as in spring. 
 There was no snow. We arrived in the division laza- 
 retto and began to drink tea. Everybody laughed and 
 made witty remarks at this fantastic order. Sultanov 
 arrived with his two surgeons, but without the Sisters. 
 
 "Where are your Sisters?" 
 
 "They have gone to the Christmas tree at the Corps 
 Commander's," replied Sultanov. 
 
 It was true, Novitskaya and Zinaida Arkadevna had 
 
198 IN THE WAR 
 
 gone to the Christmas tree, but why did Sultanov not 
 take the other two Sisters? It did not even occur to 
 any one to put this question, because everybody knew 
 that if anybody were to come here, it would be 
 Novitskaya and Zinaida Arkadevna. Yet the order 
 was perfectly definite, as to coming with Sisters. 
 
 About nine o'clock a solitary shot was fired, then 
 a second, and soon a mad, intermittent fire developed 
 in our positions. The guns roared heavily. Every- 
 body grew silent — something terrible was taking place. 
 The rifle fire spread further and further, the cannon 
 rumbled, and projectiles were carried whistling into 
 the distance. 
 
 We were getting ready to receive the wounded, but 
 no wounded were brought. The firing resounded 
 madly and feverishly, and excited orderlies galloped 
 by in the darkness. In the Japanese positions, a pro- 
 jectile flashed, and a bluish beam slowly crept up on 
 our positions. 
 
 And still we got no wounded. Towards midnight the 
 firing ceased. We lay down to sleep, and in the morn- 
 ing returned home. The unusual mobilization of the 
 hospital personnel "in the position" turned out to be 
 absolutely unnecessary. 
 
 By the way, I will tell all about this firing. 
 
 One of the most ludicrous incidents in the whole war, 
 which in general was so rich in humor, had taken 
 place. There reigned a profound conviction that on 
 that night the Japanese would do something to us, 
 and every one's nerves were strained. The Rifle Divi- 
 sion of one of our regiments heard a light, reiterated, 
 spreading tramping from the Japanese front, rapidly 
 coming nearer in the darkness. The Rifle Division 
 opened fire. We are assured that it was a herd of 
 Chinese pigs, which had escaped from a corral, and 
 was running wild in the field. The fire of the Rifle 
 Division was taken up by the battalion that was lo- 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 199 
 
 cated in the trenches ; from there the fire was com- 
 municated to the neighboring units, and the alarm 
 was given to the batteries — and then the cannonading 
 began. The officers who were in the craters at that 
 time told me that flickering lines of fire from the rifle 
 discharges could be seen hovering over the trenches. 
 The commander of the battalion which had indicated 
 the approach of the swine sent the following telegram 
 to the commander of the regiment: "I am unable to 
 hold out any longer ! Send me reinforcements !" 
 (Many officers gave me their word of honor this was a 
 fact.) They began to explode fougasses. One was 
 exploded, but the other exploded of itself. 
 
 It was then that all burned with shame: the fire of 
 the explosions lighted up a desert all about. Nowhere 
 was there an enemy. Meanwhile, the Japanese began 
 to reply from their trenches, their projector was lit 
 up, and in surprise they began to play the light on 
 our positions, which were firing madly. 
 
 In Kuropatkin's most humble telegram to the Em- 
 peror this incident was explained in the following 
 manner : 
 
 "On the night of December 24, the Japanese began 
 to worry us on the front of the central unit of our 
 positions. Having been discovered in time by our 
 guards, they were met by an artillery and rifle fire, 
 and, after an exchange of shots, they retreated. Our 
 wounded are one supernumerary lieutenant and seven- 
 teen of the rank and file ; and three of the rank and file 
 were killed." 
 
 Kuropatkin forgot to add that they were killed and 
 wounded by Russian bullets. The men who suffered 
 happened to be in advance of the trenches in look- 
 outs and hiding-places, and the whole storm of the 
 bullets came down upon them. 
 
 One of the officers, who was somewhat of a wag, 
 assured us that there were also Japanese who had 
 
goo IN THE WAR 
 
 suffered on that memorable night: the scouts found in 
 the hostile trenches the corpses of a few Japanese 
 who had burst from laughter. 
 
 Once a few severely wounded soldiers were brought 
 in from a neighboring hospital to our village. Their 
 wounds were terrible: one had both his arms torn 
 off, another had his abdomen laid open, and the rest 
 had broken arms and legs and crushed heads. This 
 is the way they were wounded. The regiment had 
 arrived from the positions to take a rest in the vil- 
 lage. A soldier had brought with him an unexploded 
 Japanese shrapnel, which he had picked up on the po- 
 sitions. The soldiers crowded together in the yard of 
 the farmhouse, and began to examine the projectile. 
 They turned it, they kicked it, and they began to twist 
 off the distance tube. Naturally, an explosion fol- 
 lowed. Three were killed on the spot, and eleven were 
 heteivily wounded. Three or four soldiers, who hap- 
 pened to pass by on their way to the quartermaster 
 for some felt boots, also suffered. Some fifteen men 
 thus met their ruin. What for.? For "an unfortu- 
 nate accident" .f* 
 
 No, it was not an unfortunate accident. If blind 
 men are permitted to run over a field that has pitfalls 
 dug in it, it will not be an unfortunate accident if 
 they keep falling into the holes. Now the Russian sol- 
 diers were in that condition precisely, and catastro- 
 phes were unavoidable. 
 
 The whole war was one continuous series of such 
 catastrophes. It became perfectly clear that, in order 
 to be victorious in a modern war, the soldier must 
 show, not the strength of a bull, not the bravery of 
 a lion, but a well-developed human intelligence. This 
 is precisely what the Russian soldiers did not have. 
 Strikingly superb in their unlimited bravery, in their 
 iron endurance, they were pitiful and irritating be- 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 201 
 
 cause of their lack of training and because of their 
 mental sloth. Even if the whole organization of our 
 Army presented a marvellously well constructed and 
 admirably working machine — ^in reality, this machine 
 was remarkably clumsy and unfit for work — this igno- 
 rance of the soldiers would be like sand which clogs 
 the wheels of the machine. 
 
 "What is the name of this village?" 
 
 "We do not know, sir." 
 
 "How long have you been stationed here.?" 
 
 "Four months, sir." 
 
 The Chinese have been deported, there is no one 
 from whom to get the information, the affair demands 
 haste, and the messenger looks helplessly at the map, 
 unable to determine whether he is going in the right 
 direction or not. 
 
 ^'Somewhere about here must be the village of Liu- 
 do-hou. Do you know where it is.^^" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 The messenger travels on and blunders about. At 
 last it turns out that the village about which he asked 
 the soldiers is that very Liu-do-hou! 
 
 The soldiers themselves wandered helplessly in the 
 locality, unable to make use of a compass or to reaH 
 a map. In the engagement, where the former gregari- 
 ous column broke up into broad chains of men acting 
 independently and feeling separately, our soldiers lost 
 themselves and were disheartened. If an officer 
 dropped out of the line, a hundred men were turned 
 into nothing, and did not know whither to move, or 
 what to do. 
 
 Between the positions, behind the positions, every- 
 where, treacherous, intangibly ruinous work was be- 
 ing done. In a moment of need the most necessary 
 appliances turned out to be spoiled. They were hunt- 
 ing the Chinamen, caught them, chopped off their 
 heads. But what did the Chinamen have to do with 
 
202 IN THE WAR 
 
 it? The majority of the important, essential cases 
 of treason were not committed by Chinese malice at 
 all, but by Russian ignorance itself. Let the official 
 accounts speak for themselves. 
 
 "The poles and cables of the military telegraph, 
 which are placed in the regions of military activity, 
 are frequently subject to destruction by the troops 
 and baggage-trains. Thus, for example, it has been 
 observed that the troops have bivouacked near the 
 very lines of the telegraph, and once a fire was started 
 on the cable itself. Horses were tied to the telegraph 
 poles. Cossacks, riding, tore the wires with their 
 lances. The cattle which were driven over the field 
 for the day's food broke down the poles and tore the 
 wires. In examining a cable which was attached to 
 trees, it was discovered that it was fastened to 
 branches which had been sawed oif, and that the cable 
 itself had been injured. It was also found that the 
 insulating covering had been cut through, and the 
 wire laid entirely bare; which, no doubt, was done 
 out of curiosity. The Commander-in-Chief requests 
 that attention be directed to this," and so forth. 
 (Order of the Commander-in-Chief, November 14, 
 1904, No. 69.) 
 
 "It has been noticed that the destruction of tele- 
 graph poles by the baggage-trains and mounted for- 
 agers still continues, in spite of the repeated orders 
 to the military authorities to take strict measures 
 against it. Daily complaints about the interruption of 
 telegraph communication are received, as a result of 
 the careless treatment of the telegraph lines by the 
 troops. Carts, transports, and large bales frequently 
 pass by the side of the main roads, hitting against 
 and breaking the poles. The Commander-in-Chief or- 
 ders again that attention be directed," and so forth. 
 (Order of the Commander-in-Chief, December 5, 1904, 
 No. 168.) 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 203 
 
 *^It has been observed that in the region In the south 
 of Su-ya-tun Station, which is In our hands, the road- 
 bed of the railway is constantly destroyed by our men 
 of the rank and file, who carry off the sleepers from 
 under whole rail paths. The same careless attitude 
 and absence of consciousness of harm done appears 
 among the men of the rank and file in relation to the 
 lines of the field telegraph, bridges, dams, and other 
 technical constructions, the building and maintenance 
 of which cost enormous sums and efforts." (Order to 
 the troops of the Third Manchurian Army, January 1, 
 1905, No. 15.) 
 
 Month after month dragged by. Two enormous 
 armies stood motionless, facing each other. Both 
 fortified and entrenched themselves persistently. By 
 degrees there arose opposite each other, as it were, 
 two long fortresses, dozens of versts long, impregnable, 
 and supplied with heavy siege-guns. Everywhere could 
 be seen trenches, redoubts, lunettes, which were con- 
 nected by subterranean passages. Both armies dug 
 themselves into the ground like moles, thousands of 
 eyes peered out of the ditches, and every incautious 
 man was immediately met by a shower of bullets. It 
 was cold, and the men froze in the trenches. The legs 
 swelled from constant standing and the leg muscles 
 were atrophied. Upon leaving the trenches the sol- 
 diers swayed like drunken men. In the positions ex- 
 isted cold, privations, and idleness, with a constant 
 nervous tension from the imminent danger; behind the 
 positions, at the stations, there was endless drunken- 
 ness and desperate gambling. The same happened in 
 the miserable Mukden restaurants. In the streets of 
 Mukden, Chinese children invited the officers to "a 
 Chinese madam," who, they assured the officers, was 
 "heap shango." And the candidates waited in the 
 yard of the farmhouse for hours for their turn to lie 
 
204 IN THE WAR 
 
 down with the dirty, painted, fourteen-year-old Chinese 
 girl. 
 
 The Army was in a gloomy and sombre mood,. 
 Hardly any one looked for a victory. The officers 
 tried to give themselves courage, figured out by how 
 many thousand bayonets our army increased each 
 month, and put their hope in the Baltic Squadron and 
 Port Arthur. Port Arthur capitulated. Nogi's deliv- 
 ered army moved for a union with Oyama. The morale 
 kept falling, and peace was desired; but the officers 
 said: 
 
 "How can we return home.? We might just as well 
 take off our uniforms, for it will be a disgrace to ap- 
 pear in the streets !" 
 
 There were a considerable number of officers who 
 would not even listen to peace. They had their pe- 
 culiar military "honor," which demanded a continua- 
 tion of the war. 
 
 The soldiers had no such "honor"; they could not 
 comprehend the war at all, and in vain tried to get 
 some explanation for it. 
 
 "Your Honor, what is this war about?" a soldier 
 would ask an officer. 
 
 "It's the Japs' fault! We didn't want it! They 
 attacked us first !" 
 
 "Yes, sir. But why should they attack us without 
 any cause?" 
 
 Silence. 
 
 "They say that this war is about Manchuria. What 
 do we want with it? We would not like to live here, 
 if it were given to us! As we were travelling through 
 Siberia, we saw a lot of land, there is no end to it !" 
 
 The position of those who desired "to uphold the 
 spirit of the Army" was becoming exceedingly difficult. 
 It was impossible to discover anything which would 
 fire the soul with the desire for heroism, with the de- 
 sire to struggle for something high and glorious. 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 205 
 
 At the staff of the Commander-in-Chief they pub- 
 lished a special little paper, The Messenger of the 
 Manchurian Armies. This paper, whose problem it 
 was to play the role of a Tyrtseus of the Russian Army, 
 was amazing for its incapacity, its lying, its absence of 
 fire and inspiration. The govemmentally over-sweet 
 phrases about faith, Tsar, and country, about the 
 honor of the native land, endless and heedless boast- 
 ing, — that was to feed the spirit of those who were 
 participating in a titanic struggle, where the can- 
 nonading caused the clouds to gather in the disturbed 
 air, and where whole plains were covered with bloody 
 carpets of corpses. I shall have to quote this truly 
 remarkable paper more than once. 
 
 This is the way the patriotic authors wrote in 
 pamphlets which were scattered in great numbers 
 among the soldiers. Before me lies an elegantly pub- 
 lished book, with pretty illustrations, bearing the 
 title: In Besieged Port Arthur, or the Heroic Death 
 of Private Dmitri Fomin, The story begins as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 " 'No, Brother Jap, you can't get out of my em- 
 brace! You will now taste Russian cabbage soup and 
 porridge, — it's an A-1 dish !' 
 
 "Thus thought Private Dmitri Fomin, sitting in 
 his lurking place with his gun primed, and watching 
 a Japanese scout. 
 
 "The Japanese is crawling over the rocks, in danger 
 of falling down at any moment. 'It isn't easy for 
 the Jap, either,' thought Fomin, 'for he, too, carries 
 out the commands of his superior.' Indeed he was 
 sorry for the Jap. At any other time Fomin would 
 have helped him to reach the top, but now, since he was 
 ready to carry out the commands of his own authori- 
 ties and to do their will, he impatiently waited for the 
 Japanese to get close enough to him so that he could 
 suddenly throw himself upon him and capture him." 
 
206 IN THE WAR 
 
 Poor Russian Army, poor, poor Russian people ! So 
 this was to fire them with the desire to struggle and 
 do heroic deeds, — the wish to do the will of the au- 
 thority. But the patriotic author is wrong in assum- 
 ing that the Japanese only "carry out the commands 
 of their superiors." No, this fire does not heat up 
 the soul and inflame the heart ! The souls of the Japa- 
 nese burned with a glowing fire, they were eager for 
 death, and died smiling, happy, and proud. 
 
 Nemirovich-Danchenko says that once, during a pri- 
 vate conversation, Kuropatkin remarked: "Yes, one 
 must admit that, at the present time, wars are not 
 waged by governments, but by nations !" Anybody 
 who had eyes and ears, had to admit that. Those times, 
 when the Russian "saintly cattle" crawled up the Alps 
 after Suvorov, astonishing the world by their sense- 
 less heroism — those times have gone irretrievably. 
 
 Every day they brought wounded men to our hos- 
 pital. There was an amazing number of men who 
 were wounded in the hand, especially the right hand. 
 At first, we took this to be accident, but the unusual 
 regularity of such wounds soon attracted attention. 
 The surgeon's assistant comes and reports: 
 
 "Your Honor, we have brought five wounded men." 
 
 "Are they wounded in the hand.?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," answers the assistant, restraining a smile. 
 
 You ask a soldier under what conditions he was 
 wounded. He is embarrassed and confused. "I 
 stretched out my hand for a blade of grass," "I put out 
 my hand to get the cartridges from the breastwork." 
 To the Sisters, in whose presence they were less em- 
 barrassed, they told outright: 
 
 "This is the way it happened. I just raised my 
 hands and shot, and it hit me in the hand. If I had 
 put out my head, I would have caught it in the head !" 
 
 The Chief Commander of the Rear writes in one 
 of his orders: 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 207 
 
 ic 
 
 'A large number of the rank and file have been re- 
 ceived at the hospitals, who have wounds on their 
 fingers. Of these there are twelve hundred who have 
 only the index finger wounded. The absence of the 
 index finger on the right hand frees a man from mili- 
 tary service. Hence, considering the fact that the 
 fingers are well protected during the firing by the 
 trigger-shield, there is reason to assume an intentional 
 injury to the fingers. In view of the above, the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief has ordered an investigation, so as 
 to bring the guilty persons before the law." 
 
 The soldiers lived merely in the expectation of 
 peace. The expectation was impassionate, tense, with 
 an almost mystical faith in the nearness of the desired 
 and delayed "peace-making." The moment "Hurrah!" 
 was heard at the station the soldiers of all the sur- 
 rounding units became excited and in agitation asked : 
 
 "What is this? The peace-making .f^" 
 
 One morning in the middle of January, my orderly 
 servant said to me: 
 
 "The war will come to an end on the twenty-seventh," 
 and he smiled enigmatically. 
 
 "A year from now?" I smiled. 
 
 "Not at all, sir. This very month," he replied, 
 with self-assurance. 
 
 Then he told me a story. In the Kromski Regiment 
 there was a prophetic soldier. He informed his com- 
 rades that the war would end exactly a year after its 
 beginning, on January 27, 1905. The commander of 
 the company heard of this prediction and put the 
 prophet for three hours under arms. The commander 
 of the regiment passed by, and he asked : "What are 
 you standing for?" "For the truth, Your Honor!" 
 "For what truth?" The soldier told him. "Well, tell 
 the commander of your company that he should add 
 another three hours under arms from me !" "No, Your 
 Honor, do not offend me, but listen to what I have 
 
208 IN THE WAR 
 
 to tell you. There is a letter at the post-office for 
 you, and in this letter it says that your brother in 
 Russia has died." The statement proved correct. The 
 colonel went and told Kuropatkin about it. Kuro- 
 patkin summoned the soldier, and began to stamp his 
 feet and shout at him ; but the soldier said : "Your Ex- 
 cellency, in your right pocket there is a box of matches, 
 and in it there are forty- two matches." Kuropatkin 
 counted the matches — the number was correct. He 
 ordered the soldier to stay with him. "If things hap- 
 pen as you predict," says he, "I will promote you to 
 the rank of officer ; if not, I'll have you shot !" 
 
 I went to the hospital. The wounded and the sick 
 were speaking with animation and asking about the 
 soldier's prediction. Quicker than the light which 
 finds it way into darkness, the prediction spread 
 throughout the army. In the trenches, in the dug- 
 outs, in the bivouacks near the fires — everywhere the 
 soldiers spoke with joyous faces of the announced near- 
 ness of the peace-making. The authorities were dis- 
 turbed. Rumor had it that those who were talking 
 of peace would be hanged. 
 
 "Well, there won't be ropes enough," the soldiers 
 said, smiling. 
 
 We ridiculed the prophecy, but — such is human na- 
 ture — everybody wanted peace so much that, in spite 
 of the obvious fact, an intangible joyous expectation 
 nonetheless lived in the depths of the soul. And 
 there were rumors which strengthened this expecta- 
 'tion. It was said that the commissariat had ordered 
 the requisition papers to be presented three months 
 ahead and not six months ahead as was done before. 
 The troops were ordered not to lay in any provisions, 
 but to use up the canned goods. The German Em- 
 peror, they said, visited daily now the Russian, now 
 the Japanese ambassador. They no longer sent new 
 troops from Russia. They insisted that the January 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 209 
 
 flank attack at San-de-pu had been undertaken by 
 orders from St. Petersburg, for the purpose of trying 
 luck for the last time. They lost fifteen thousand 
 men, and were unable to take a single village. It was 
 figured out that, if the battle were to develop along 
 the whole front, we should lose hundreds of thousands 
 of men without any results — and they began negotia- 
 tions about peace. In April, the rumors said, we would 
 return home. 
 
 January 27 arrived, and, of course, there was no 
 peace. We laughed and reminded the soldiers of the 
 sooth-sayer. They were confused, and scratched them- 
 selves behind the ears. 
 
 "I guess he was mistaken !" 
 
 It was a bitter disappointment. Now new rumors 
 developed: it was decided to organize a new army 
 of three hundred thousand men for Korea, and to 
 build an enormous new fleet. And Japan figured on 
 fighting during the whole of the year of 1905. 
 
 A heavy, painful sensation depressed every soul. 
 
 A large number of officers now came to the hospitals. 
 In one of our regiments, which had not yet partici- 
 pated in any battle, twenty per cent, of the personnel 
 of officers dropped out "on account of sickness." With 
 naive cynicism officers came to consult us privately, 
 to see whether they could not be transported on ac- 
 count of this or that venereal disease. 
 
 "You see, I've been here ever since September, and 
 I'm sick of it. I want to get back to Russia!" 
 
 One of the adjutants of our division staff, who had 
 volunteered for the war, asked to be transported. 
 
 "What did you come here for.'"' 
 
 *'We were all convinced that the war would end 
 in October, that it would be something like the Chinese 
 war. It looked profitable to go for the sake of pro- 
 motion." 
 
glO IN THE WAR 
 
 On the day that I was m charge of the hospital a 
 tall, handsome captain came to see me. 
 
 "Good morning, doctor," he said to me in a heavy, 
 lordly bass, offering me his hand. "I have come to 
 lie in your hospital." 
 
 "What ails you.?" 
 
 "You see, it is like this : I am no longer a young 
 man, and I am married and spoiled. I have prop- 
 erty in Moscow. I absolutely cannot endure it here 
 any longer ! The conditions in these trenches and dug- 
 outs are so anti-sanitary that it is impossible to stand 
 it any longer. I began to cough and I have pains 
 in my legs. Of course, I am not in the least afraid 
 of bullets and projectiles, but, you know, it is no 
 particular pleasure to catch rheumatism for the rest 
 of my life. Be so kind as to have me transported to 
 Harbin. There I have a good Moscow friend on the 
 Evacuation Commission, and there I'll fix it up my- 
 self." 
 
 When there was a rumor of an impending battle, the 
 flow of officers which streamed to the hospital increased 
 greatly. About these "heroes of peace times" a whole 
 doggerel spread through the army. 
 
 The order came to go ahead — 
 To hospitals they go instead. 
 
 It is a fine campaign! 
 
 It is a fine campaign! 
 A Shimose just whizzed by, 
 It didn't touch me! It flew high — 
 
 But I have a contusion! 
 
 But I have a contusion! 
 I'll get my paper by and by. 
 Up north and home forthwith I'll fly. 
 
 The south does not agree with me ! 
 
 The south does not agree with me ! 
 
 The commanders, seeing the flight of the officers, 
 were furious. There arrived at the hospital a staff 
 captain with chronic gastro-intestinal catarrh. To 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 211 
 
 his sanitary sheet was attached a piece of paper with 
 the following note from the regimental commander: 
 
 *'It is my deep conviction that the staff captain is 
 suffering from rear-mania, a disease which, I am sorry 
 to say, is prevalent among the officers. Please to have 
 this note attached to the sanitary sheet." 
 
 It was painful to be in charge of the officers' hall. 
 The patients wore us out with their trifling, insignifi- 
 cant complaints. 
 
 "Oh, yes. Doctor, I forgot to tell you," said a Mos- 
 cow proprietor, in a deep, bass voice. "I observe 
 that my arms and legs have grown awfully thin in 
 the last two months." 
 
 Another one informed me: 
 
 "Last spring I took the cactus cure in the Crimea. 
 Don't you think, doctor, I had better take up that 
 cure again .^" 
 
 "Doctor, this is what happens with me," a third 
 one said: "when it is hot, I feel giddy and I have a 
 sick headache." 
 
 "That's the way everybody feels." 
 
 "No, I have a peculiar feeling." 
 
 I often felt like stopping in the middle of the hall 
 and bursting out into guffaws. These were warriors! 
 All their lives they had lived off the people, and the 
 only justification of their existence could be the very 
 thing which they now so carefully tried to avoid. Now 
 I no longer feel like laughing. I recall my former 
 patients, and I think, where are they.^^ How many 
 battles with the disarmed people have they bravely 
 waged in the cities and villages of Russia? How 
 many women have they had flogged.^ How many men 
 have they sentenced to capital punishment.^ 
 
 Once Kuropatkin suddenly arrived in our hospital. 
 His hair was black, with a tinge of grey; his glance 
 was intelligent and unwavering; his face, serious and 
 gloomy. He was simple in his attitude, without a 
 
212 IN THE WAR 
 
 shade of Bourbonism or of a general's manner. He 
 was the only one of the generals here who impressed 
 everybody without exception. His remarks were to the 
 point, and free from arrogance. 
 
 Incidentally Kuropatkin also entered the officers' 
 hall. 
 
 "What are you suffering from.^" he said, turning 
 to an officer. 
 
 "From general nervous breakdown, Your Excel- 
 lency," replied the officer, and, hastening to make good 
 use of the opportunity, added: "The chief of the divi- 
 sion is trying to have me transferred to a duty out- 
 side the line." 
 
 "Who is trying.?" asked Kuropatkin, slightly rais- 
 ing his brows. 
 
 "The chief of the division, Your Excellency." 
 
 "And what ails you.?" Kuropatkin said, turning to 
 another officer. 
 
 "I have a cold, a pain in my joints; I cough," this 
 one said, giving a list of his ailments. 
 
 Kuropatkin drew a gentle sigh, put questions to a 
 third and a fourth man, and silently left without bid- 
 ding good-bye. 
 
 Obviously he had received an old and familiar im- 
 pression. A month before he had issued the follow- 
 ing order, full of sarcasm and irony: 
 
 "From the information received from the Sanitaro- 
 Statistical Bureau, it appears that sickness per thou- 
 sand among the lower ranks of the Army is only slightly 
 higher than the percentage in peace times, whereas 
 sickness amidst the officers is more than double that 
 of the lower ranks. I direct the attention of the per- 
 sons in charge to this fact. I direct the attention to 
 this, also, that the officers, who live under better sani- 
 tary conditions, should present to the rank and file an 
 example of a conscientious relation to the conditions 
 for the preservation of health. It must be remem- 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 21$ 
 
 bered that it is pre judicious in war time to be ailing 
 from personal carelessness." (Order of December 17, 
 1904, No. 305.) 
 
 Side by side with this type of gentleman, there ar- 
 rived in the hospital from the front such old chronic 
 cripples that we raised our arms in despair. There 
 came a lieutenant-colonel who had been sent from Rus- 
 sia but a month ago "to complete numbers": he was 
 deaf in one ear, breathed heavily, had chronic rheu- 
 matism, and had but five teeth in his mouth. It was 
 painful to look at this ruin of an officer from the line, 
 and to think of the strapping youths who were sit- 
 ting in the rear and doing duties of commanders and 
 supervisors. 
 
 Another, also a lieutenant-colonel. He was fifty-eight 
 years old, had chronic rheumatism, catarrh of the stom- 
 ach, asthma, and a weak heart; and both his eyes had 
 twice been operated on for some trouble. A fine old 
 man, such as one finds among old officers, modest and 
 unpretentious. 
 
 "How can you be in active service when your health 
 is in such a condition.'^" I asked in surprise. 
 
 "What's to be done? My wife begged me to ask 
 for my discharge, but how could I do it? Only two 
 years are left to complete my service. I have four 
 children, and three orphan nephews on my hands. 
 They have to be fed and dressed. I have been ailing 
 for a long time. The commission has twice given me 
 a certificate to the efi'ect that I must take the cure 
 at Staraya Russa, where there are some free rooms 
 for officers. But you know that it is hard for a 
 member of the Army to get anything without protec- 
 tion. The free rooms are always reserved for mem- 
 bers of the staff, and we can't get them." 
 
 This old, old man had been suffering for three 
 months in the trenches! 
 
 The chief surgeon had taken it upon himself to or- 
 
gl4 IN THE WAR 
 
 der the transfer and transportation from the hospital 
 of all the sick officers. He was terribly provoked at 
 the "cowardice and dishonesty" of the Russian officers. 
 
 "They are simply making fun of us ! I will not have 
 these malingerers evacuated! I'll order them all back 
 to the line !" 
 
 What really happened was this: gentle, modest men 
 were ordered back to the front, while pompous men 
 and such as had connections were discharged. 
 
 By the way, that impudent Moscow proprietor wafe 
 transported to Harbin to his friend in the Evacuating 
 Commission. 
 
 Once, while I was in charge for the day, I was called 
 to the receiving-room late in the evening. Near the 
 table, dressed in a Nikolay fur cloak, stood Captain 
 Count Zarayski, the personal adjutant of our corps 
 commander. And near him was a tall, handsome lady 
 in a short fur coat and a white fur cap. 
 
 "Good evening, doctor," said the count. "I have 
 come to take a cot in your hospital. On my way to 
 Harbin I caught a cold in my ear and an abscess has 
 formed there. I have brought you a new Sister." 
 
 He introduced us to the lady. 
 
 A new Sister? According to law, each hospital was 
 to have four Sisters, and we had already six of them: 
 Besides the four regular Sisters, we had the "Boy- 
 Sister" and the officer's wife who had lately returned 
 from Harbin after recovering from typhoid fever. All 
 these Sisters had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do, 
 they were all bored, and complained of ennui and 
 lack of occupation. And here was a seventh! 
 
 The count was taken to the officers' hall, and the 
 lady was given a bed with our Sisters. 
 
 Everybody was perplexed and provoked and wanted 
 to know what good she would be. When the chief 
 surgeon entered the officers' hall next morning, Count 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 215 
 
 Zarayski asked him to take the lady whom he had 
 brought as a supernumerary Sister into the hospital. 
 
 "She is a good friend of mine, and I went to Harbin 
 to meet her." 
 
 The chief surgeon gave an evasive answer and went 
 back to his room. Just then the Division Surgeon 
 came to see him. He learned of the count's request 
 and was beside himself. 
 
 "This will be the seventh Sister in the hospital! I 
 will not permit it under any consideration!" he said 
 excitedly. 
 
 "The main thing is, what do I want with her?" 
 the chief surgeon said, agreeing with him. "As it is, 
 I do not know what to do with my own Sisters; I do 
 not need them!" 
 
 The supervisor poured some oil on the flame: 
 
 "How are we to transport them.^^ Can we order 
 special carriages for them?" 
 
 The Division Surgeon, boiling with rage, went to 
 the hospital to see the count. One of our Sisters said 
 slyly to the supervisor: 
 
 "I'll bet you anything that this Sister will stay 
 here !" 
 
 "You are talking nonsense! Are they trying to 
 make fun of us?" 
 
 The Division Surgeon came back from his visit to 
 the count. This time he was silent, and he answered 
 evasively the question of the chief surgeon. Upon re- 
 turning home, he wrote a letter to the Chief of the 
 Division, in which he told of the desire of the new 
 Sister to enter our hospital, and he asked whether 
 he should accept her. The Chief of the Division an- 
 swered that he was surprised at his letter: according 
 to law, the Division Surgeon should solve such questions 
 on his own account, and he ought to know better than 
 any one else whether Sisters were needed in the hos- 
 pital. Then the Division Surgeon turned the matter 
 
ne IN THE WAR 
 
 over to our chief surgeon. The chief surgeon accepted 
 the Sister. 
 
 "A new burden has fallen upon our shoulders," he 
 said in irritation to our Sisters. "How am I going to 
 transport the whole lot of you?" 
 
 The Sisters told this to the new Sister. On meeting 
 the chief surgeon, she said to him: "I understand that 
 I shall embarrass you very much in moving." 
 
 "Never mind," Davydov replied good-naturedly. 
 "We usually move not more than five or six versts. In 
 an extreme case, we shall move you all in two lots." 
 
 The Sisters' apartment was very small. The new 
 Sister embarrassed them all very much with her boxes 
 and trunks. Our Sisters were huffy, but the new Sis- 
 ter did not seem to notice it, and was kind and pleas- 
 ant. She informed the Sisters that she was dreadfully 
 afraid of patients and that she could not endure the 
 sight of blood. 
 
 "I had better act in the capacity of a chamber-maid 
 to you, and clean up and sweep out our farmhouse," 
 she said smilingly. 
 
 The new Sister passed days at a time in the officers' 
 hall by the count's bedside. 
 
 The whole hospital groaned and frowned at the 
 count. Once he did not like the soup which was of- 
 fered him. He sent word that, if they ever offered 
 him such soup again, he would smash the cook's jaws. 
 The supervisor came running to the count every hour, 
 in order to find out whether he was all right. Once 
 the count said: "It wouldn't be bad if I had some 
 wine!" The supervisor immediately sent a bottle of 
 excellent Madeira which had been donated for the use 
 of sick people. But the count had an abscess in the 
 external canal of the ear and, of course, there was no 
 reference to any wine he was to get. 
 
 The count laughed at the attentions he received, 
 and he said: 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 217 
 
 *'It's a good thing that I'm not exacting, for they 
 would be giving me champagne every day!" 
 
 Apropos of the donations. We usually had but few 
 sick people, but the chief surgeon constantly received 
 fine things, warm garments, wine, and filled cigarettes, 
 from the stores of donations connected with the Red 
 Cross. These things were given without accounting 
 and without control, and even in larger quantities 
 than was asked for. "Give it to somebody or other!" 
 they would say. It was a mean, contemptible business : 
 the stingy chief surgeon lavishly treated the friends 
 who came to see him to cognac and Madeira, smoked 
 the gift cigarettes, and filled the company which came 
 to congratulate him on his birthday or name-day with 
 free brandy. 
 
 Soon the chief surgeon turned over to the newly- 
 arrived Sister a small farmhouse which stood to one 
 side and had been fixed up for patients. He furnished 
 the Sister with a separate orderly. According to law 
 no orderlies are intended for Sisters, and ours, natu- 
 rally, had none. They cleaned their own apartments, 
 washed their own underwear, and so forth. Davydov 
 furnished the new Sister with a lamp and coal oil from 
 the government stores and begged her not to spare 
 any fuel in order to keep the farmhouse warm. The 
 other Sisters never saw any fuel wood: their fuel con- 
 sisted of kao-liang which had been used for horse bed- 
 ding, mixed with manure. 
 
 The Sisters were naturally dreadfully put out about 
 it, and they pointed out in what close quarters they 
 lived and how spacious an apartment the newly-arrived 
 Sister had. We advised them as follows: 
 
 "Ask the chief surgeon to have a part of you trans- 
 ferred to her farmhouse." 
 
 "Oh, Lord, how dull you are! She has got to live 
 alone !" 
 
 The count regained his health soon, and was dis- 
 
218 IN THE WAR 
 
 charged from the hospital. Every evening the Ameri- 
 can carriage of the corps stood until late at night 
 near the solitary farmhouse where the new Sister was 
 living, or a sentinel was dozing, holding by the reins 
 two horses, the count's and his own. 
 
 Fairy Vyera Nikolaevna, who recovered from ty- 
 phoid fever in Harbin, did not care to return to 
 Sultanov's hospital and remained as a Sister in Har- 
 bin. Her place in Sultanov's hospital was taken by the 
 dweller in the solitary farmhouse, "the count's Sister," 
 as the soldiers called her. In the capacity of a regu- 
 lar Sister she received a salary of about eighty rubles 
 a month. She still lived in the same farmhouse, only 
 in place of a soldier from our hospital, one from 
 Sultanov's hospital was attending upon her. 
 
 And I thought how many active, experienced sur- 
 geons' assistants who wished to go to the war as Sis- 
 ters, were refused "on account of lack of places." 
 Meanwhile, the nation's money was spent on the main- 
 tenance of women like Novitskaya and of "count's 
 Sisters," who could not endure the sight of blood, who 
 did not know how to approach the patients, and who 
 did not even wish to do so. 
 
 In our hospital lay a wounded officer from a neigh- 
 boring corps. This officer was of distinguished birth 
 and had great connections. The Corps Commander 
 came to see him. He was an old, old man, and, as 
 they said, with an enormous influence at court. 
 
 In our hospital there also lay a soldier from his 
 corps, whose right arm was shattered by splinters 
 from a shrapnel. We tried to persuade the soldier 
 to have his arm amputated, but he would not listen 
 to us. 
 
 "What am I going to do without an arm? Maybe 
 it will heal up some way. I have three children." 
 
 But gangrene had already set in in the arm. When 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY ^19 
 
 the general left the officers' hall, our chief surgeon 
 
 said to him: 
 
 *'Your Excellency, a soldier from your corps is 
 lying here. His arm should be amputated, but he 
 will not consent to it. Maybe you can persuade 
 
 him." 
 
 "Yes. Very well. Take me to him. I shall have a 
 
 talk with him." 
 
 The general was taken to the soldiers' hall and to 
 
 the wounded man. 
 
 "Do you know who I am?" asked the general. 
 
 "Yes, Your Excellency." 
 
 "All right. The doctors tell you, and I repeat it, 
 you have to have your arm cut off, else you will die." 
 
 The soldier was silent, and looked gloomily at the 
 general. 
 
 "Did you understand me?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Very well. Don't worry. In Petersburg the Em- 
 press has very fine artificial arms and legs. They'll 
 give you an arm and nobody will know but that it is 
 a real one." 
 
 The soldier was silent. 
 
 "So this is what I advise you to do, and you do it. 
 Do you understand me? Good-bye. Can you read 
 and write?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 The general moved towards the entrance and said, 
 
 turning to us : 
 
 "He can learn to write with his left hand." 
 
 The January engagement at San-de-pu took place. 
 For a few days the chill air was astir from the con- 
 tinuous cannonading, and at twilight the fires of the 
 bursting shells could be seen in the west. It was so 
 cold that it was impossible to sleep in the heated farm- 
 houses, even though we wrapped ourselves in every- 
 
ggO IN THE WAR 
 
 thing we could find. And there, in that bitter cold, 
 the battle took place. 
 
 Then the cannonading stopped. It became quiet, 
 as though all sounds had frozen. There were all kinds 
 of stories about the past engagement. It was said that 
 the Russians had occupied San-de-pu and the neigh- 
 boring villages, but that they had later retreated with 
 a loss of about fifteen thousand men. The picking-up 
 of the wounded and their transportation was done even 
 more carelessly than in the previous engagements. 
 Only those were saved who, with their own strength, 
 were able to crawl to the dressing-stations, while all 
 the others froze to death. There were not enough 
 carts nor stretchers. The wounded were transported 
 in cold freight-cars. I was told in Mukden that in 
 one sanitary train which arrived from the south they 
 found thirty corpses of wounded men who had frozen 
 to death during the journey. The Inspector of the 
 Hospitals of the Second Army, Solntsev, shot himself. 
 It was rumored that he left a note in which he accused 
 himself of negligence on account of the freezing to 
 death of thousands of wounded. Others said that 
 Solntsev had lost his mind in the beginning of the 
 engagement, and had committed suicide while tempo- 
 rarily insane. 
 
 The failure of the engagement was laid by some at 
 Kuropatkin's door, while others blamed Grippenberg, 
 the Commander of the Second Army. They quarrelled 
 in the presence of the whole army. There were stories 
 of Kuropatkin's letters, which were left unanswered by 
 Grippenberg, and of Grippenberg's departure from 
 the army without the knowledge of the Commander-in- 
 Chief. They reported the words uttered aloud by 
 Grippenberg at the Harbin station, that Kuropatkin 
 was a traitor who should be turned over to court- 
 martial. Everybody listened in amazement as Grip- 
 penberg, in an attempt to prove his righteousness, 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY S21 
 
 blurted out to the foreign correspondents the military 
 secrets about the numbers and distribution of our 
 troops in the theatre of war. 
 
 Parallel with this, they told of the late encounter, 
 in the staif of the Japanese Army, between Marshal 
 Oyama and his Chief of Staff Kodama. It was said 
 that Kodama had boxed Oyama's ears because the 
 Marshal had systematically claimed ideas worked out 
 by Kodama. A storm burst forth, but immediately 
 subsided. Oyama forgot his box on the ears, and Ko- 
 dama his personal insult. They were both needed for 
 the business, and both remained working side by 
 side. 
 
 I do not know whether that was so, but they spoke 
 of it with bitterness, with envy, with enthusiasm, as 
 a sign of the great elan of the Japanese, of the genius 
 of their leaders, of the education of the officers, and 
 the training of the soldiers, of the amazing practical 
 sense, shrewdness, and harmony of the whole organi- 
 zation. 
 
 Gertsen wrote long ago : "We need Europe as an 
 ideal, as a reproach, as a fine example. If it isn't 
 all that, we shall have to invent such a Europe." The 
 same relation existed here with regard to the Japanese: 
 if things there were not as they were represented, they 
 had to be, "as an ideal, a reproach, a fine example." 
 This appeared to be an irrepressible necessity of the 
 soul amidst the reigning, crushing senselessness, amidst 
 the stupidity of the leaders who did not inspire confi- 
 dence, amidst the backwardness of the officers and the 
 dull apathy of the soldiers. 
 
 Everything which we happened to find out about the 
 Japanese could only provoke shame for ourselves and 
 respect for them. The care which they took of the sol- 
 diers was amazing; the equipment was substantial, 
 light, and convenient, and every detail was carefully 
 thought out. Clean underwear was brought to the 
 
9m IN THE WAR 
 
 soldiers in the positions, and the dirty linen was gath- 
 ered up and given to Chinese laundresses to be washed. 
 Before an engagement the Japanese washed themselves 
 thoroughly, hence their wounds suffered less from con- 
 tagion, and healed remarkably well. All the sides of 
 a soldier's life served as a subject of the same careful 
 attention, while with us a soldier was only crude, hu- 
 man material. He was dirty, in underwear unwashed 
 for months, and swarming with lice, out of breath un- 
 der an equipment weighing two pounds, and he knew 
 only how "to shut up" and "not to answer." Amazing 
 things happened, which it is hard to believe: for in- 
 stance, our ojfficers paid eighteen kopeks for a pound 
 of sugar in the officers' economic societies, while the 
 soldiers were not admitted to these societies and had 
 to pay as much as forty kopeks for a pound in the 
 Greek and Armenian shops. 
 
 The more you have, the more shall be given unto 
 you — that was our fundamental rule. The higher a 
 Russian chief stood, the richer war was making him; 
 travelling expenses, special aids, salary, everything was 
 lavished fabulously upon him. But for the soldiers 
 the war was a cause of complete ruin: their families 
 starved, the aids from the treasury and from the 
 Zemstvos were ridiculously small, and they were given 
 at very irregular intervals, as the home-folks kept 
 writing. 
 
 Our Commander-in-Chief received one hundred and 
 forty- four thousand rubles annually; each one in 
 charge of an army, one hundred thousand rubles or 
 more. The corps commander got from twenty-eight 
 to thirty thousand. Professor Ott, the court ac- 
 coucheur, as the Novosti wrote, was ordered for 
 a few months to the Far East to inspect the medical 
 institutions, at a salary of twenty thousand rubles per 
 month! We read in amazement in the foreign papers 
 that the Japanese marshals and admirals received a 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 223 
 
 salary of only six thousand rubles a year, and that 
 the monthly pay of a Japanese officer was about thirty 
 rubles. One Russian corps commander received more 
 than Togo, Nogi, Kuroki, and Nodzu, all taken to- 
 gether. At the same time, the Japanese government 
 paid its soldiers five rubles a month, while our sol- 
 diers received the "increased pay" of forty-three ko- 
 peks and a half! 
 
 Towards the end of January I received a telegram 
 from Kung-chu-ling from a friend of mine, a non- 
 commissioned officer, who had been wounded near San- 
 de-pu and was lying in one of the Kung-chu-ling hos- 
 pitals. I went to see him. 
 
 At the Mukden station I went up to the ticket office 
 to get a ticket. It turned out that none could be pro- 
 cured without a note from the commandant of the 
 station. 
 
 I went to the commandant. 
 
 "It is too late now! You must come before half- 
 past eleven. I cannot give you a note now!" 
 
 "But, sir, the train doesn't leave for forty min- 
 utes !" 
 
 "That makes no difference ! You should have come 
 in time!" 
 
 "Please tell me, how could I know what you mean by 
 being in time.^^ In the official Messenger of the Man- 
 churian Armies the hours of departure of the trains 
 are published, but you say nothing there about hav- 
 ing to come an hour before train time. Here I have 
 been shaken up for twelve versts in the biting cold, 
 and I have been hurriedly summoned by a telegram 
 to a friend of mine who is wounded." 
 
 "That is none of my business !" the commandant re- 
 torted, unperturbed. 
 
 "Then tell me, please, to what higher authority I 
 may appeal here." 
 
^M IN THE WAR 
 
 "I do not know." And the commandant turned 
 away. 
 
 We had it up and down for about five minutes, dur- 
 ing which time a few dozen notes could have been 
 written. At last the commandant weakened and 
 gave me the note. 
 
 I got my ticket. The train consisted of a row of 
 heated freight cars, amidst which stood out a dark 
 passenger car with its stove-pipes. It was filled with 
 officers and military officials. I had some difficulty 
 in finding a seat. 
 
 I got into a conversation with my neighbors, and 
 expressed my surprise at the order reigning at the 
 station. 
 
 "Why did you get a ticket?" a neighbor of mine 
 said to me in surprise. 
 
 "What else could 1 do?" 
 
 "Do you not know that every legal act of ours is 
 surrounded by all kinds of difficulties for the special 
 purpose that men should act illegally?" 
 
 "But what would I do without a ticket? The con- 
 ductor would ask for it!" 
 
 "What! Send him to the devil, that's all! And, 
 if he persists, slap his face!" 
 
 It turned out that the majority in the car were 
 travelling without tickets. After that time I began 
 to travel without a ticket, too, and to give the proper 
 instruction to inexperienced novices. It was hard 
 and troublesome to get a ticket, for it was necessary 
 to pass through a whole series of incidents : in one 
 room they gave you a certificate, in another they 
 attached a seal, in the third they furnished you the 
 ticket, while the commandants acted haughtily and 
 coarsely. On the other hand, it was amazingly sim- 
 ple and easy to travel without a ticket. From Mukden 
 to Kung-chu-ling is about two hundred versts. We 
 made this distance in two days. The train stopped 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 225 
 
 for hours at a time at each siding. They said that 
 somewhere to the north there had been an accident with 
 a sanitary-train, that many wounded were killed or 
 wounded anew, and that the road was hurriedly cleared. 
 In the car they were telling stories and holding argu- 
 ments all the time. There were many who had taken 
 part in the last engagement. They were strong in 
 their denunciations of Kuropatkin, and they laughed 
 at the "geniality" of his constant retreats. One offi- 
 cer was dreadfully surprised at my not knowing that 
 Kuropatkin had long ago lost his mind. 
 
 They cursed Kuropatkin. Indeed, his incompetence 
 was too obvious. But I said: 
 
 "Very well. But who, in your opinion, should have 
 been appointed in his place .?" 
 
 As often as I put this question during the war I 
 received the same answer: "Who?" The officer would 
 think a bit and would shrug his shoulders. "That's 
 so. There is no one to put in his place!" 
 
 A lieutenant-colonel who had taken part in the last 
 engagement said in irritation: 
 
 "Let history determine why we have lost the other 
 battles, but in regard to this engagement I assure 
 you that we have lost it, thanks to the senselessness 
 and stupidity of our chiefs exclusively. Think of it! 
 They brought out a whole corps from the staff as 
 though for His Majesty's inspection! The moment 
 the Japanese saw that, they called for reinforce- 
 ments !" 
 
 He said that during the attacks the reserves sys- 
 tematically never got there in time. He told of the 
 incomprehensible faith of the authorities in the hope- 
 lessly bad maps : they attacked San-de-pu according to 
 "Map No. 6," and they sent a glowing telegram to 
 St. Petersburg. Unexpectedly they discovered an- 
 other village behind the one destroyed, and one which 
 had not been suspected by any one. This had fresh, 
 
226 IN THE WAR 
 
 untouched fortification, and a rain of shot from the 
 redoubts decimated our regiments, and we retreated. 
 But now this new part of the village is properly en- 
 tered on "Map No. 8." 
 
 "But I ask you, had not all this region been in our 
 hands before Liao-yang.? How is it we did not get any 
 precise maps for it.?" 
 
 "This is what happened with us," another officer 
 told. "Eighteen volunteers from our detachment oc- 
 cupied the village of Bei-tad-zy, a superb observation 
 point, one may almost say, a key to San-de-pu. 
 Near by stood the regiment. The chief of the com- 
 pany of volunteers sent word to the commander to 
 furnish him with two companies. 'I can't do it ! The 
 regiment is in the reserve, and I have no right to do 
 anything without order from my superiors.' The 
 Japanese came and drove off the volunteers and occu- 
 pied the village. It was necessary to despatch three 
 battalions to retake it from them. 
 
 "With us in the centre there happened in Novem- 
 ber a case that was even worse. Our regiment was 
 standing in position. The report came from the ob- 
 servation post that the Japanese were transporting 
 a big gun from the Hou-thai crater to La-ma-tun. 
 Near us stood a battery, only it was not in the charge 
 of our commander. The commander telephoned the 
 chief of the division, the chief of the division tele- 
 phoned to the chief of the corps, the chief of the corps 
 telephoned to the chief of artillery, the chief of ar- 
 tillery was not at home. Meanwhile the Japanese 
 succeeded in getting their gun to the right posi- 
 tion." 
 
 "You may bring a million soldiers here, and there 
 will be no victory even then," said the lieutenant- 
 colonel, with a sigh. 
 
 On the evening of the next day we were thirty versts 
 from Kung-chu-ling. I did not go to sleep, because I 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 22T 
 
 thought we would arrive there at any moment. We 
 reached Kung-chu-ling more than twenty-four hours 
 later, at two o'clock in the morning. 
 
 I stepped out on the platform. All was deserted. 
 I asked where the hospitals were, and I was told that 
 they were several versts from the station. I asked 
 where I could sleep. The janitor told me that in Kung- 
 chu-ling there was an etape for officers. How far was 
 it from the station? "Just to the right from the sta- 
 tion, about two steps from here." Another said that 
 it was half a verst, and a third that it was a verst 
 and a half. It was a dark, misty night and it was 
 blowing hard. 
 
 I walked up and down the platform. I saw some- 
 thing like barracks and so I walked in. It happened 
 to be the surgeons' station for the reception of sick 
 from the sanitary trains. A surgeon's assistant and 
 two soldiers were doing day duty. I asked their per- 
 mission to stay with them and get warmed up. But 
 this was difficult to do, because the thermometer in 
 the barracks showed twenty-six degrees, and it ^as 
 blowing in from all sides. One of the soldiers fixed 
 me a bed from two benches, and I put over it a felt 
 cloak and covered myself with my fur jacket. But 
 it was so cold that I only dozed off twice for half an 
 hour during the whole night. 
 
 At seven o'clock in the morning I heard a noise and 
 the tramp of feet about me. They were taking sick 
 soldiers from the Kung-chu-ling hospitals into a sani- 
 tary train. I walked out on the platform. In the 
 new party of patients which was approaching the sta- 
 tion I saw my friend, with an arm amputated. He was 
 being transported with the others to Harbin. I talked 
 with him for about an hour and a half, as long as the 
 sanitary train was standing. 
 
 The train left. I went to find out when the train 
 would leave for Mukden. 
 
^28 IN THE WAR 
 
 "At four o'clock in the afternoon. However, it 
 did not leave yesterday." 
 
 "Perhaps it will not leave to-day.?" 
 
 "Perhaps." 
 
 Somebody informed me that a military train which 
 was about to leave for the south was standing on the 
 fifth track. I asked permission of the chief of the 
 echelon to travel with the military train. There were 
 also some other outside officers who were going with it. 
 
 Towards evening the train stopped on an up grade 
 — the locomotive wasn't powerful enough to pull up 
 the cars. We returned to the siding, had a part of 
 the cars uncoupled, and moved on. At night, while 
 ascending an up grade, four of the rear cars broke 
 loose and ran back. The train started to catch them. 
 The conductor told us that there were constant delays 
 in the movement of the cars and that, in order to 
 make up for them, they travelled faster than they 
 ought to, and made up trains of forty cars instead 
 of thirty. This caused new troubles. The cars were 
 old and worn. Thus, for example, in one of the cars 
 which broke loose the coupler had been pulled out, 
 together with the wood from the beam. 
 
 In the morning we moved to another train, which 
 was travelling faster than our echelon. The old, dingy, 
 third-class car cracked and rocked suspiciously, and 
 at times there was a dull noise under the dirty floor 
 and the car bobbed up and down. There were dirty 
 puddles in the closet, and the faucet did not work. 
 
 At night, while everybody was asleep, the conductor 
 suddenly awoke us and asked us to leave the car, which 
 was not to proceed any further. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "It is worn out." 
 
 "Is something broken.? Will it be sent for repairs.?" 
 
 "No. It is completely worn out. It will be dis- 
 carded." 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 229 
 
 We left the car, laughing. "Completely worn out !" 
 At night, in the middle of the journey, it was not some 
 accident that had happened, but simply the car had 
 completely worn out ! It may be said that it was 
 worn out to the last hole. But now the causes of the 
 many disasters became quite clear to us. 
 
 We waited at the station until six o'clock. The train 
 was being shunted, and a heated freight car was being 
 attached for us. We entered it; it was frightfully 
 cold, and there was no sash in one of the windows. 
 The iron stove was cold. Some of the officers were 
 travelling with their orderlies, and some of these man- 
 aged to patch up the window and ran out for fuel. 
 
 "Make a fire in the stove!" 
 
 The soldiers brought some wood and tried to make 
 a fire. But the wood was damp and would not catch. 
 The officers were angry. 
 
 "Your Honor, I shall run out and get a dry box 
 for fuel," said the soldier who was supposed to make 
 the fire, running away. 
 
 The second bell. The officers did not close the slid- 
 ing door, so that the soldier might be able to jump 
 into the car. The orderlies laughed. 
 
 "Wait till he comes back! He's glad to have a 
 chance to run away!" 
 
 So it turned out to be. The train moved, but the 
 soldier did not make his appearance. It was terribly 
 cold, and our toes were getting stiff and numb. The 
 orderlies busied themselves around the stove, wasting 
 one box of matches after another. The wood hissed 
 and puffed, but would not catch fire. 
 
 Everybody was angry and scolded. At the stations, 
 except at the very largest ones, it was impossible to 
 get anything to eat. Not even bread could be bought. 
 The officers who were coming under special orders told 
 of the universal discomfort — there was no place to 
 eat, no place to sleep. They were constantly directed 
 
230 IN THE WAR 
 
 to some etape which was usually five versts from the 
 station. 
 
 "Do tell me, where are we? In the rear of an army 
 of five hundred thousand men, or on an island of Robin- 
 son Crusoe? And this is the Russian Empire!" 
 
 In the car it grew colder and colder. Our heads 
 were beginning to ache, and the cold seemed to enter 
 the very marrow of our bones. A bright, fluffy hoar 
 frost could be seen on the walls. Nobody was scolding 
 now. Everybody was surly, sitting on the wooden 
 benches, wrapped in fur jackets. At one of the stops 
 two of the orderlies leaped out of the car, disappeared 
 for about five minutes, and returned with roguishly 
 smiling faces. They cautiously closed the door be- 
 hind them. One unbuttoned his fur coat and fetched 
 from his bosom an axe which he had stolen some- 
 where. 
 
 "Your Honor, just move a little." 
 
 The orderly stuck the axe in a crack and broke a 
 board out of the bench. 
 
 "This material is going to be dry," he said, plac- 
 ing the board on the floor and chopping it up. 
 
 The wood caught fire and the car became warmer. 
 Amidst universal laughter, a second board and a third 
 flew into the stove. The benches disappeared, but the 
 stove became heated up. We crowded around it, 
 rubbed our stiffened hands, and unbuttoned our fur 
 jackets to let the heat radiate upon our bodies. 
 
 "Well, these soldiers are rogues," the officers said 
 in delight. 
 
 The orderlies were busy among the dismantled 
 benches, and kept wrenching off and breaking off more 
 boards. The stove was aglow, the frosty walls dried 
 out, and it grew warmer and warmer. 
 
 In the beginning of February there were rumors that 
 a general engagement would begin on the twelfth. Con- 
 
DECEMBER TO FEBRUARY 2S1 
 
 centrated preparations were being made, and there 
 was no time for expressing one's sentiments. What 
 was going to happen? It was said that Kuropatkin had 
 told a friend of his that in his opinion the campaign 
 was irretrievably lost. This seemed to be perfectly 
 obvious. But the officers' faces were unmoved. They 
 said that our positions were simply impregnable, and 
 that it was absolutely impossible to surround us ; and 
 it was hard to understand whether they were really 
 convinced of it or whether they tried to deceive them- 
 selves. 
 
 A number of Japanese dare-devils, who had made 
 their way to our rear, tore up a railway bridge near 
 Kung-chu-ling. There were rumors that near Tieh- 
 ling there had appeared masses of excellently-armed 
 Hung-hu-tziis who were burning with furious hatred 
 towards the Russians because of the desecrated graves 
 and destroyed temples. The rumors of the impending 
 engagement became more frequent. Something mon- 
 strously gigantic was moving forward, and it was felt 
 that something that had never yet happened in the 
 world was about to occur. 
 
 In the Messenger of the MancJiurian Armies there 
 appeared a jubilant editorial. It said that we had 
 more troops than the Japanese, that a victory was cer- 
 tain for us, that the Japanese themselves were aware 
 of this, and that the hour of reckoning had come. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 
 
 In the morning the guns began to thunder madly along 
 the whole front. It was a warm, fall-like day, and an 
 invigorating, warm wind was blowing from the south. 
 The thin layer of snow was melting in the sun, and 
 the pigeons were stirring under the eaves of the farm- 
 houses and fixing their nests. The magpies and spar- 
 rows were chattering. The guns were thundering and 
 the flying projectiles were whistling. Everybody was 
 filled with the one serious and solemn thought, "It has 
 begun." 
 
 At sundown the cannonading died down. All night 
 long infantry units, batteries, and parks moved in col^ 
 umns from west to east. Under the vault of the heav- 
 ens with its dim stars the noise of wheels over the hard, 
 frozen earth was borne far into the distance. At 
 three o'clock the waning moon arose; it was yellow 
 and covered with a misty veil as though it were painted 
 over. The units were still moving and the air was filled 
 with the constant, even sound of the wheels. 
 
 Slowly and threateningly, day after day passed. 
 There were blizzards, and dry, flaky snow was borne 
 in clouds through the air. It grew silent. The frosts 
 increased. The snow fell. The sun warmed the air. 
 In the positions the guns still roared and the salvos 
 from the rifles came in gusts — short, sharp salvos, as 
 though somebody were chopping wood. At night the 
 fires of bursting shells flashed. In the dark heavens 
 
 232 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 233 
 
 there gleamed faint reflections of gun discharges, and 
 the rays of the projectiles crept up cautiously. 
 
 Our hospitals stood beyond the Putilov crater. In 
 the crater something terrible was taking place. From 
 morning until night the Japanese showered upon it 
 projectiles from eleven-inch howitzers. The steel 
 monsters, snorting, flashed by from an unseen distance, 
 and hit the trenches, the entanglements, and the cov- 
 ered pits. Greyish yellow and dingily black clouds of 
 smoke from the explosions rose into the air, spread, 
 and branched out like enormous bushes. They sepa- 
 rated from the crater and melted away, soiling the sky, 
 and from below rose new columns of smoke. So it was 
 in daytime. But at night continuous attacks upon the 
 crater took place. Its inclines were covered with 
 Japanese corpses. 
 
 There were rumors that the Japanese had de- 
 cided to take possession of the crater at all costs, 
 and it certainly looked that way, for such a mass of 
 new regiments proceeded every night to the attack. 
 Only much later did we learn what the trouble was. 
 The persistent attacks of the Japanese upon our 
 left wing and centre made Kuropatkin think that it was 
 here that they were preparing their stroke. So 
 Kuropatkin concentrated his main forces here. The 
 Japanese, meanwhile, kept transferring their troops 
 to the opposite wing, where Nogi's flanking army was 
 moving to our rear. The Putilov crater was in the 
 centre. Every night the marching Japanese regiments 
 stormed the crater and in the morning went farther 
 west, while new regiments came up from the east. Thus 
 we received the impression that almost the whole 
 Japanese army was thrown against our centre. 
 
 The air was saturated with rumors. Some said that 
 Sha-ho Station was in our hands, that we had taken 
 seventeen guns from the Japanese, that on the left 
 wing Linevich had defeated the Japanese and was driv- 
 
234! IN THE WAR 
 
 ing them towards Liao-yang. Others said that the 
 Japanese had moved forward on both flanks. 
 
 In Sultanov's hospital a new supernumerary Sister, 
 Varvara Fedorovna Kamenev, had worked for the last 
 six weeks. Her husband, an artillery officer from the 
 reserve, served in our corps. She had left a baby at 
 home, and had come here in order to be near her hus- 
 band. Her soul was like a tautly-drawn string, which 
 vibrated tremulously with hidden longing, expecta- 
 tion, and terror. Her relatives had great connections, 
 and they offered to have her husband transferred to 
 the rear. Wringing her hands in despair, she re- 
 plied : 
 
 "If he accepts this, I shall stop respecting him!" 
 And now, when all of us, who had long become accus- 
 tomed to the cannonading, were talking and laughing, 
 scarcely hearing it. Sister Kamenev sat with a pale, 
 distracted face, listening intently, and feebly starting 
 at every discharge of a gun. 
 
 The officers' halls of our hospitals were filled to 
 overflowing with officers. One was hoarse, another had 
 a pain in his side, a third complained of "pain in the 
 head, in the shoulder, in the back duct." Until late 
 into the night they played at cards, and arose at 
 about eleven o'clock. There was an orderly officer 
 from the stafi^ of our division lying there. Lieutenant 
 Shestov. Just before the beginning of the engage- 
 ment his horse tripped under him, and he hurt his 
 thumb. So the lieutenant had already been lying six 
 days in the hospital. With his arm in a black sling, 
 he visited us, Sultanov's hospital, and the Zemstvo 
 detachment, which had stopped in our village about a 
 month ago. 
 
 Pretty Sister Leonova was massaging his hand, 
 "What! Are you through? Please massage it a 
 little longer!" begged the lieutenant, and, blinking like 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT SS5 
 
 a cat, he felt soothed from the touch of the small, soft 
 hands of the girl. 
 
 In the evenings the lieutenant tried to meet Leonova 
 in the streets, walked by her side, smiling with the 
 sharp smile of a satyr, and drew her for walks in soli- 
 tary places. At last, Leonova begged the surgeon 
 to free her from massaging the lieutenant's hand. The 
 cannonading increased from day to day. Timidly and 
 cautiously, as though not trusting itself, a disturbing 
 bit of news began to spread through the army — namely, 
 that the Japanese were surrounding us on the right 
 flank. 
 
 "Nonsense!" said the officers, laughing. 
 
 But the rumor spread and became more persistent. 
 A dim anxiety kept growing stronger. One evening 
 we were drinking tea in the Zemstvo detachment. Lieu- 
 tenant Shestov, with his right arm in a black sling, 
 was also there. 
 
 "They are talking ever more persistently of out- 
 flanking us," I remarked. 
 
 Shestov looked me over and smiled condescendingly. 
 
 "Doctor, how can you believe it ! It is impossible !" 
 
 Forgetting that he could not use his right hand, the 
 lieutenant took a piece of paper and began to draw 
 upon it the disposition of our troops and of those of 
 the Japanese. From this drawing it became perfectly 
 obvious that it was as impossible for the Japanese to 
 outflank us as to transfer the whole army to the moon. 
 Next evening, about five o'clock, the Japanese guns be- 
 gan to roar directly behind Mukden. 
 
 Let the lieutenant alone! Obviously, all the mili- 
 tary chiefs were imperturbably convinced of the utter 
 impossibility of being outflanked. In the very begin- 
 ning of the engagement an officer had been sent forag- 
 ing in the extreme right flank. Upon returning, he 
 reported to his superiors that he had seen dense col- 
 umns of the Japanese moving northward. The com- 
 
^36 IN THE WAR 
 
 mander of the corps wrote on the report, "Idiot !" And 
 the chief of the division said, "This gentleman ought 
 to be court-martialled for spreading false rumors !" 
 I was told this by the surgeon, who had himself heard 
 these words of the general. The surgeon asked him : 
 
 "Your Excellency, is the outflanking really impos- 
 sible?" 
 
 The general opened his eyes wide in amazement. 
 
 "The outflanking? Oh, yes. However, you are not 
 a military man." He turned to the chief of the staff: 
 
 "Colonel, please explain to the doctor the whole 
 nonsense of this assumption!" 
 
 The guns thundered behind Mukden and madly 
 roared along the whole front. I had never heard any 
 cannonading like it; there were from forty to fifty 
 discharges a minute; the air trembled, howled, and 
 whistled. The cook of the Zemstvo detachment, Fera- 
 pont Bubenchikov, listened in contrition to the howling 
 of the projectiles as they cut through the air, lay 
 down upon the ground, and kept repeating: 
 
 "Good-bye, Moscow! You will never see Ferapont 
 Bubenchikov again!" 
 
 It was reported that twenty-five thousand Japanese 
 were approaching Mukden from the west, that a bat- 
 tle was already raging at the imperial tombs near 
 Mukden, and that another twenty-five thousand were 
 making a wide detour in order to reach Kung-chu-ling. 
 
 The Zemstvo detachment received a telegram from 
 the chief of the sanitary unit which read that, by the 
 order of the Commander-in-Chief, all the institutions 
 of the Zemstvos and the Red Cross which had no trans- 
 portation facilities of their own, were immediately to 
 break camp and leave for Mukden, whence they were 
 to go north by rail. But the halls of the Zemstvo de- 
 tachment, as well as those of our hospitals, were filled 
 with wounded men. The Zemstvo men read the tele- 
 gram, laughed, and remained where they were. 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT SS7 
 
 Before me, on a stool, sat a middle-aged soldier, 
 with the flesh of his hip lacerated. He wore a clumsy 
 grey overcoat, and his face was covered with a shaggy 
 beard. When I addressed him he respectfully straight- 
 ened himself up and tried to rise. 
 
 "How old are you?" 
 
 **They say forty, but I do not know." 
 
 "Have you been long in the war?" 
 
 "Since the Feast of the Intercession. We were 
 driven to Krasnoyarsk to be put in military uniform, 
 and we were stationed there. They were calling for 
 volunteers, and so I went." 
 
 I glanced at him; he was quite old, and his eyes 
 were those of a meek peasant. 
 
 "Aren't you sorry that you went?" 
 
 "No. If my leg heals up I should like to go again," 
 he replied, pensively. 
 
 He looked shaggy and dismal. What was there in 
 his soul? One could surmise a dim consciousness of 
 a great social work, the consciousness of his personal 
 connection with something important. But, on the 
 whole, it was difficult to understand him. 
 
 A short man in a strange uniform was brought 
 to the hall. The wounded bestirred themselves, and 
 their glances were directed towards the one com- 
 ing in. 
 
 "A Jap, a Jap!" 
 
 The short man moved slowly, leaning on the shoul- 
 der of the assistant and dragging his left leg. With 
 his glistening black eyes he looked surreptitiously and 
 cautiously at everything around him. When he saw 
 my officer's shoulder-straps, he straightened himself 
 up and placed his hand to his cap, with his palm for- 
 ward, as our boys who play soldier do. His pale face 
 was covered with a layer of dust, his lips were cracked 
 and parched, but his eyes cast a rapid, piercing 
 glance. 
 
S38 IN THE WAR 
 
 A bullet haH lodged itself in the Jap^s loin. I mo- 
 tioned to him that he should undress himself. The sol- 
 diers were silent and watched the Japanese with con- 
 centrated, curious hostility. I asked him to what army 
 he belonged. 
 
 «Oku.?" 
 
 The Japanese smiled quickly and obligingly nodded 
 his head. "Oku, Oku." 
 
 "Oku.f^'* I looked suspiciously at the Japanese. 
 "Don't you mean Nodzu.'* Hodya,^ Nodzu?" 
 
 His shifting, roguish eyes glistened, and he shook 
 his head again: 
 
 "Nodzu, Nodzu." 
 
 The Japanese undressed himself. He took off his 
 ample camel cloak with its goatskin collar, and under 
 it there was a sleeveless fur jacket. The soldiers 
 laughed. The Japanese looked at them and laughed, 
 too. After the jacket there followed a black uni- 
 form with its shoulder-straps removed (so that we 
 might not find out to what regiment he belonged), 
 after the uniform came a vest, and after the vest, 
 another vest. The laughter increased and passed into 
 guffaws. The soldiers roared and so did the Japanese; 
 and because he roared so merrily and so good-natur- 
 edly with the rest, the hostility disappeared in the 
 soldiers' laughter and the friendly uproar united all 
 the men in the farmhouse. 
 
 The soldier took off a jersey and a calico shirt. 
 The bullet wound in the hip had already closed. The 
 Japanese nodded his head interrogatively at me, 
 rubbed his hands, and then began to smooth his round, 
 close-cropped head with its black, bristly hair. 
 
 "He wants to wash himself," the surgeon's assistant 
 ventured to remark. 
 
 I ordered a basin of warm water and soap to be 
 brought. The Jap's eyes glistened with joy. He 
 1 Friend. 
 
 ^ 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 239 
 
 began to wash himself. Oh, Lord, how he washed 
 himself! With bhssfulness, with inspiration! He 
 washed his head, his neck, his body. He undressed 
 himself and began to wash his legs. The drops of 
 water glistened on his strong, bronzed body, and the 
 body glistened and grew fresh from the cleanliness 
 which took possession of it. All were seized with ad- 
 miration at the sight of his washing. The hospital 
 surgeon ran to the mess-room and brought some more 
 water. 
 
 The Japanese looked gratefully at him, and laughed 
 out merrily. The servant glanced around him, and 
 also laughed. The Japanese began once more to 
 wash with soap his chest, his neck, and his bristly 
 head. The lather ran down in streams, the water 
 spurted, the Japanese snorted and shook himself. 
 
 On a bench in the corner lay a soldier who was 
 wounded in the hip and whose wound I had just fin- 
 ished dressing. He kept looking at the Japanese. He 
 watched his clean, strong body as it gleamed under 
 the water. Suddenly he drew a sigh, scratched his 
 head, and sat up with determination. 
 
 "Well, I guess I shall wash myself, too.' 
 
 9? 
 
 From the positions the news was brought to Sister 
 Kamenev that her husband, an officer of artillery, was 
 mortally wounded: he had ascended an observation 
 tower, his glasses ghttered in the sun, and a well- 
 aimed bullet hit him in the head. Sister Kamenev had 
 her own buggy and horse. She hurried away to the po- 
 sitions. 
 
 Behind Mukden the guns roared as before, but we 
 now had good news. It was said that Kuropatkin 
 himself, at the head of the Sixteenth Corps, had at- 
 tacked the flanking detachment, which he had sur- 
 rounded and crushed. Three thousand Japanese threw 
 away their guns and surrendered. Our caterer, who 
 
240 IN THE WAR 
 
 had been to Mukden, had seen crowds of prisoners at 
 the station. 
 
 Towards evening an enormous transport of wounded 
 was brought to our village. We took a part of them 
 and the rest went to Sultanov's hospital and the 
 Zemstvo detachment. 
 
 The wounded were from the Putilov crater and from 
 its neighborhood. Towards the west of the crater lay 
 two strongly-blindaged trenches, in which two com- 
 panies were stationed. Above their heads were thick 
 beams, which were covered with earth about two feet 
 deep; and in front were narrow loop-holes, protected 
 by sand-bags. During the last few nights the men 
 in these trenches laid low a mass of Japanese who 
 had advanced to attack the crater. This morning the 
 Japanese had directed their siege-guns against the 
 trenches. One gun's discharge followed another, every 
 shot being directed against the trenches, and the enor- 
 mous blindage beams were shattered. Half an hour 
 later the two mighty trenches were turned into a mass 
 of earth, splinters, and blood-stained, maimed men. 
 
 The wounded were carried into' the hospital rooms, 
 and were placed on the straw-covered oven-places. 
 There they lay and sat, singed by powder, with broken 
 heads and crushed extremities. Many were stunned, 
 and they did not answer to questions, but sat immov- 
 able, rolling their eyes. 
 
 "Why don't they talk?" the Sister asked in surprise. 
 
 "Very likely the ear-drum is injured, and they are 
 deaf. Maybe there is a concussion of the brain." 
 
 "Just look! One of them is talking!" 
 
 A bearded soldier, with a blue, pufFed-up face, was 
 leaning with the elbow of his uninjured arm against 
 the pillow and was telling his neighbor in an unusually 
 loud voice, such as deaf people use: 
 
 ^Says I to him, 'Don't look out without cause!' 
 
 «( 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT ^41 
 
 But he did! My comrade's head was split in half, 
 the little Tatar was all smashed in bits, but I got 
 away with a contusion." 
 
 His neighbor looked strangely at him, but was silent 
 and slowly blinked his eyes. 
 
 "Your Honor, is it true that the Japanese have 
 outflanked us again.?" another wounded soldier said, 
 turning mysteriously to me. 
 
 "That's what they say." 
 
 The soldier was silent for a moment, then he asked 
 in a perplexed whisper: 
 
 "Your Honor, why have we so little success.''" 
 
 A soldier of the East-Siberian Rifle Division, with 
 a shattered leg, was carried to the operating-room 
 to have his limb amputated. His waxen yellow face 
 was peppered black from powder burns, and on his 
 singed beard the ends of the hairs had curled up. As 
 he was being put under the anaesthetic, and was just 
 losing consciousness, he wept and cursed. As if from 
 a dark, inaccessible depth, there rose the words which 
 betrayed the secret thoughts of the soldier's woe: 
 
 "Russia has disgraced herself! What is the use 
 wasting people for nothing? They beat and maim us, 
 and there is no good in it!" 
 
 Again curses broke from his lips, and there re- 
 sounded a dull sound which resembled weeping. 
 
 They placed the wounded in the halls and gave them 
 something to eat and drink. They had not slept 
 for three days, had hardly eaten anything, and had 
 not even had anything to drink — they had had no 
 time for it, and they could not get any water. Now 
 they were gently enfolded by rest, quiet, and the con- 
 sciousness of safety. In the farmhouse it was warm 
 and cosy from the bright lamps. They drank tea and 
 conversed with animation. In clean linen, their clothes 
 removed, the soldiers lay down to sleep and wrapped 
 themselves in their coverlets with real enjoyment. 
 
^m IN THE WAR 
 
 Suddenly, at nine o'clock in the evening, there came 
 a telegram from the Corps Surgeon, at the command 
 of the Chief of the Corps, to evacuate all the wounded 
 from the hospital immediately, to pack all the surplus 
 government property, and to move north to the village 
 of Hun-hep. 
 
 Everything was bustle and confusion. The carts 
 were hurriedly hitched, the wounded, who had just 
 fallen asleep, were awakened, the hospital linen was 
 taken from them, and they were dressed in their former 
 rags and fur jackets. They sat on their benches in 
 mortal fatigue, swayed to and fro, and, sitting, fell 
 asleep. Just one night, just one night of rest, how 
 it would have strengthened them, how much better 
 it would have been than all the medicines and 
 bandages ! 
 
 Twelve carts drove up. The horses snorted and 
 neighed, and the lanterns flickered. The officers were 
 playing at cards in their room. Lieutenant Shestov, 
 with his arm in a black sling, was lying on his bed, 
 reading a translation of Onet's novel, Bi/ Candle 
 Light. The chief surgeon told the officers not to 
 trouble themselves, and to sleep peacefully through 
 the night — he would have plenty of time to attend to 
 them next morning. 
 
 In the yard, by lantern light, the wounded soldiers 
 were brought out and placed in the carts. It was cold, 
 the stars twinkled, and to the south roared the guns 
 and burst noiseless reflections. The broad beam 
 of the projector crept over the sky. Towards the 
 right the enormous distant glow of the morning 
 swayed. 
 
 The wounded were to be transported for a distance 
 of five versts to the Fu-shun branch, although many 
 of them were wounded in the abdomen or in the head 
 and many had their limbs crushed. We had a con- 
 flict with the chief surgeon because of these wounded, 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 243 
 
 and yet we did not succeed in delaying their departure 
 until morning. 
 
 Assistant Pastukliov came to me and said to me 
 in agitation: 
 
 "Your Honor, the wounded have already received 
 their tickets and I have not yet had time to enter their 
 diagnosis in the book! Please have the tickets 
 taken up !'' 
 
 "Nonsense! The wounded have already been placed 
 in the wagons, and do you mean that they are to wait 
 half an hour in the cold while you will enter their diag- 
 nosis? Not at all!" 
 
 "The chief surgeon has so ordered!" 
 
 "Start!" I shouted furiously to the drivers. 
 
 The transport started. The wounded were wrapped 
 in everything that we could lay our hands on, yet 
 they froze severely on the way. Some begged to travel 
 faster, because it was so very cold; others begged to 
 travel slower, because they were being shaken up so 
 much. 
 
 At last we arrived at Hudiad-zy, on the Fu-shun 
 branch. A mass of transports from the neighboring 
 hospitals was already gathered there — everything was 
 bustle and confusion, and it took a long time to dis- 
 tribute the sick in the hospitals. Those who were 
 received there immediately fell into a profound sleep. 
 They had to be awakened again to have the hospital 
 linen put on them. 
 
 The surgeons informed me that, according to rumor, 
 the Japanese were pressing us hard on the right flank, 
 and that they were capturing village after village in 
 their attempt to unite with the flanking army. On 
 the left wing, too, our men had retreated for a distance 
 of six versts. 
 
 I drove back. It was late in the night; in the dis- 
 tance the guns roared madly, and the reflections of 
 the discharges flashed like sheet lightning. The stars 
 
244 IN THE WAR 
 
 did not twinkle, for they were surrounded with dim 
 coronas. 
 
 At two o'clock there entered our farmhouse two 
 excited Cossacks, with their muskets over their shoul- 
 ders. 
 
 "Your Honor, has any one of you just been riding 
 from Yu-zan-tun?" 
 
 "I have just arrived from the north, from Hu- 
 diad-zy." 
 
 "No, from Yu-zan-tun." 
 
 The Cossacks were looking for a Japanese spy, who 
 was dressed as a Russian military surgeon. Near 
 Bia-ta-pu he had asked some infantrymen whither the 
 Twenty-fifth Division had gone, and they had told him. 
 Then it occurred to them that his eyes were slanting 
 and that his Russian pronunciation was bad. They in- 
 formed the Cossacks and these started after them. The 
 suspected surgeon made some inquiries of the artillery- 
 men near Yu-zan-tun, and then of the baggage men. 
 The baggage men became suspicious and wanted to 
 hold up the surgeon, but he wheeled his horse around 
 and galloped away, while the soldiers had no rifles. 
 After that, the trace of the Japanese was lost. Some- 
 body had seen a military surgeon on his way to our 
 village. 
 
 "So it was not you.'"' 
 
 The Cossacks left the farmhouse and galloped away. 
 
 "Yes, the Japanese are not sleeping, they are work- 
 ing," Selyukov said, with a sigh. 
 
 Shantser listened pensively to the rumbling of the 
 guns. He shrugged his shoulders nervously and dis- 
 gustedly. 
 
 "Oh Lord! It seems as though the Russian guns 
 were shooting quite differently from the Japanese! 
 The sound from them is dull 4nd slow." 
 
 In the morning we met the Zemstvo surgeons. 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 245 
 
 "You did not leave?" we asked in surprise. 
 
 "Why should we?" 
 
 "But you were ordered to leave!" 
 
 "Much do we care about executing their orders ! We 
 came here to work, and not to go joy-riding on the 
 railways !" 
 
 It turned out that they had not executed the com- 
 mands of the previous day, to evacuate the wounded, 
 but had been operating all night. With one soldier, 
 who was wounded in the head, a sphnter of the tem- 
 poral bone had turned sideways and entered the brain. 
 The patient struggled with all his might and broke 
 the stretcher under him. His skull was trepanned, the 
 splinter was removed, and the patient quieted down 
 at once. In all probability he was saved. Had he 
 found his way to our hospital, with the splinter pierc- 
 ing his brain, he would have been carried in a shaky 
 wagon to the Fu-shun branch and the bone would have 
 entered deeper and deeper into the brain. 
 
 "We know these Trepovs well!" the Zemstvo man 
 said, smiling. "They are military men, and their chief 
 object is to send telegrams to St. Petersburg, 'All the 
 wounded have been removed.' If half of them die in 
 consequence of it — 'That's what war means!' What 
 are we risking? To remove the seriously wounded, to 
 have them shaken up, to transfer them — that is cer- 
 tain death for them. When we have to retreat, we 
 shall consider what is to be done. Why should we 
 fear Trepov? He will scold us, that's all! What 
 of it?" 
 
 That very day, on February 19, we received the 
 order not to accept any more wounded, to break up 
 the hospital, to pack up, and to be ready to move at 
 the first word. Evening came, everything was dis- 
 mantled and packed up, and we had had no supper. 
 We were told that the Japanese continued to press us 
 on the right flank. Kuropatkin had surrounded and 
 
246 IN THE WAR 
 
 beaten the flanking detachment, but in the rear, in 
 successive detachments, there appeared ever-new flank- 
 ing" columns. 
 
 "They are pressing upon us without number, like 
 pigs, like locusts !" the passing Cossacks said, in nerv- 
 ous perplexity and terror. "They storm us without 
 their clothes, in nothing but their gymnasium trunks ! 
 We lay thousands of them low, but they press on 
 harder, just like drunken men." 
 
 At two a'clock in the night there came a telegram 
 from the staff of the corps, ordering the two hos- 
 pitals immediately to advance to the village of Hun- 
 he-pu, some seven versts to the northwest. Fifteen 
 minutes later there arrived a new telegram: the Corps 
 Commander permitted us to stay over night where we 
 were, and to advance next morning. 
 
 "Obviously it has occurred to him that Novitskaya 
 must have a night's rest!" was our guess. 
 
 In the morning we started. The Zemstvo people 
 laughed, as they bade us good-bye. 
 
 "Do you remain.'^" we asked them, in mortification 
 and envy. 
 
 "We do. We shall have time to run — that is easy 
 enough." 
 
 It was a quiet, sunny morning. Our baggage-train, 
 raising the dust, moved slowly along the road. We 
 were on horseback. Behind us, to the left, in front 
 of us, roared the guns. Amidst the tense outlines of 
 the horsemen who were travelling with the baggage- 
 train there was one new figure. It was that of Lieu- 
 tenant Shestov. His hand had completely recovered, 
 and the day before he had been discharged from the 
 hospital. But the lieutenant "did not know where 
 the staff was now," and so he travelled with us. 
 
 Hun-he-pu was crowded to overflowing with bag- 
 gage-trains and artillery parks. All the farmhouses 
 
 4 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 247 
 
 were filled. We found quarters in a miserable clay 
 barn. We went to have some tea with some friends 
 of ours, who were surgeons in the hospital located at 
 Hun-he-pu. 
 
 There we were told that a telegram had been re- 
 ceived from the Tsar, congratulating the Army for 
 its victory. 
 
 "What victory.?" 
 
 "They say that the flanking army has been shat- 
 tered to dust, and that we are passing over to an 
 attack." 
 
 "What losses there are in our corps! The X Regi- 
 ment has lost fifteen hundred men, the Z Regiment is 
 almost completely annihilated, and its commander is 
 killed." 
 
 "The devil take it! Shrove-tide is at hand — a fine 
 Shrove- tide !" 
 
 "Gentlemen, have you heard, the Japanese have flung 
 into our trenches a note in which they invite the Rus- 
 sians to Mukden on the twenty-fifth of February for 
 Shrove-tide dumplings !" 
 
 "Those impudent fellows !" 
 
 Sultanov's hospital also arrived at Hun-he-pu. Nat- 
 urally^, there were no farmhouses to be found for him. 
 As always, during the campaign, Sultanov was irrita- 
 ble and furiously angry. With great difficulty he 
 found for himself a dirty, ill-smelling farmhouse at the 
 edge of the village. His first order to the soldiers of 
 the mess was to have an iron plate put into the stove, 
 and to the cook to get a dinner for him. Novitskaya 
 examined the dirty, soup-covered farmhouse, which 
 smelled of garlic and bean-oil, and said, sadly: 
 
 "At M the ceiling and the walls were covered 
 
 with rose paper, and there was some matting on the 
 floor !" 
 
 Sultanov, yellow with anger, sent the Corps Com- 
 mander the following telegram: 
 
^48 IN THE WAR 
 
 "I haven't found a single free farmhouse. Where 
 do you order us to locate ourselves?" 
 
 I could imagine our Corps Commander, as he was 
 reading the telegrams that came: in such-and-such a 
 regiment fifteen hundred men were killed; such-and- 
 such a regiment was completely annihilated at this 
 point ; at that point the Japanese have appeared in our 
 flank; and Dr. Sultanov cannot find any comfortable 
 apartments ! 
 
 Lieutenant Shestov did not succeed in finding out 
 where the division staff was, so he located himself 
 in the hospital. While we were drinking tea with the 
 surgeons, he called on them. When he unexpectedly 
 noticed us, he scowled, seated himself quietly in a cor- 
 ner, and began to turn the pages of a much-thumbed 
 volume of the Niva. 
 
 Our chief surgeon, gloomy and distracted, entered. 
 
 "A new telegram has been received — to cross the 
 bridge over the river Hun-ho and to wait there for 
 further orders." 
 
 "Do you happen to know how matters stand?" 
 
 "Well, the Japanese have broken through the cen- 
 tre. Su-ya-tun is on fire. We have been ordered to 
 keep kerosene in readiness with which to fire all the 
 stores at the first word. The office, the treasury, and 
 the baggage-trains of the second order are being trans- 
 ferred to the north." 
 
 Towards evening we received a second telegram to 
 go at once to the village of Pa-Hn-pu, to the east of 
 Mukden. 
 
 We started just as the sun was setting. The wind 
 was barely stirring, and the horizon was misty, either 
 from smoke or dust. Endless baggage-trains crowded 
 at the narrow, old, and worn pontoon-bridge over the 
 river Hun-ho. We waited for a long time in anxiety 
 for our turn. From the other side there came a Boriso- 
 glyeb Company. 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT M9 
 
 **Where do you come from, boys ?" 
 
 "We took some mortars to Tieh-ling." 
 
 At last we crossed the bridge, and we moved more 
 evenly. It grew dark, and it was calm. The stars 
 were out, and it was very cold. We reached the south- 
 ern gate of Mukden and turned to the right along 
 the city wall. Over the baggage-train a fine, thick 
 dust hung immovably. It penetrated the eyes and the 
 nose, and made it hard to breathe. It became colder 
 and colder, and our feet grew numb in the stirrups. 
 
 "Yes, *a languid breeze the night is filling,' " Selyu- 
 kov sighed, shivering with the cold. 
 
 We marched and marched. None of those whom 
 we met knew where the village of Pa-lin-pu was. It 
 couldn't be found on our map, either. If a wagon 
 broke down we stopped, and then moved on again. We 
 stopped near a ruined bridge, looked in the darkness 
 for a passage over the ice, and moved on again. We 
 were seized more and more by fatigue, and our heads 
 were in a whirl. In the darkness the greyish road 
 could be discerned; to the left, without a break, 
 stretched the tall city wall. Behind it could be seen 
 the tree-tops and the gables of the bent roofs, calm 
 and mysteriously strange in their peculiar, foreign 
 life. 
 
 The waU was left behind, and fields and groves ap- 
 peared. It was very late, and majestically-shining 
 Jupiter was inclining to the west. No one knew where 
 Pa-lin-pu was, or when we would get there. 
 
 "It is well that we are going there for the usual idle- 
 ness!" Selyukov philosophized gloomily. "It would be 
 bad if we were needed there." 
 
 The half-frozen apothecary, who was much under 
 the influence of liquor, crawled out from his cart. In 
 his fur jacket and cap he tottered along the dusty 
 road, and said, with his blundering tongue: 
 
 "It is pleasant to travel in the cold, when you know 
 
250 IN THE WAR 
 
 that ahead of you there will be tea, supper, and a warm 
 bed; but this way it isn't pleasant!" 
 
 We did not find Pa-lin-pu, and we stopped for the 
 night in a village which was crowded with troops. The 
 officers said that our affairs were in a good condition, 
 and that the centre was not at all broken; that Nogi's 
 flanking army had been thrown back with enormous 
 losses; that the post-office, the auditing-office, and the 
 treasury were being transported back to Hun-he-pu. 
 
 In the morning it turned out that we were half a 
 verst distant from Pa-lin-pu. We transferred our- 
 selves thither. 
 
 Day after day passed slowly. With our tents rolled 
 up, and the dressing material packed in the carts, we 
 stayed idle at Pa-lin-pu. Through the bluish smoke 
 were outlined the walls and towers of Mukden, and 
 not far away rose a tall, beautiful shrine. The vil- 
 lages around the city were still intact, the groves had 
 not yet been cut down. But now the farmhouses were 
 again gradually looted and destroyed, and the cen- 
 tury-old trees fell under the Russian axes. Again the 
 Chinese, with polite, reserved faces, tried to complain 
 to the officers about the soldiers' looting, but the of- 
 ficers replied indifferently: 
 
 "Pu-tunda (I do not understand)." 
 
 "Pu-tunde?" the Chinese asked, good-naturedly, and, 
 smiling, shook their heads. 
 
 The guns thundered behind Mukden, and from there, 
 in a broad semicircle to the south, bending behind us 
 to the east, the baggage-trains travelled past us, in an 
 endless line, to the north. Some mounted orderlies 
 rode up to us. 
 
 "Your Honor, how are we to get to San-dia-zu?'* 
 "I do not know. Whereabouts is it?" 
 
 "I can't tell. We have been commanded to take a 
 report as quickly as possible to San-dia-zu." 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 251 
 
 The soldier rode on. 
 
 The hospital moved past us to the north. Others, 
 like our own, were located, without unpacking, in the 
 neighboring villages, and stood idle. Yet a terrible 
 engagement was going on, and every day furnished 
 thousands of wounded. Upon noticing the hospital 
 flag, carts whose bodies bore the sign of the Red Cross 
 drove up to us. 
 
 "Your Honor, have you a hospital hercf^ We have 
 brought some wounded." 
 
 "We do not receive them. The hospital is not 
 operating." 
 
 "What are we to do.^^ Oh Lord! We have been 
 travelling since morning, and we cannot get rid of the 
 wounded." 
 
 "Where are you from.^" 
 
 "We are from Su-ya-tun." 
 
 From Su-ya-tun! That was twenty versts away. 
 From the carts were borne sobs and groans. The 
 transport, shaking up the maimed soldiers, slowly 
 moved on to find a refuge. 
 
 A transport of stretchers on mules passed by us. 
 To the cane handles of the stretchers, both in front 
 and behind, a mule was hitched, and, in the stretchers, 
 on their canvas tents, lay the wounded. It was a splen- 
 did idea : the mules walked, quickly and evenly feeling 
 the ground with their small hoofs, the stretchers 
 swayed in even motion, like a boat on the calm waters. 
 It was a splendid idea, but while I was watching a 
 couple of mules became frightened, began to struggle, 
 and broke the handle of the stretcher, and threw to 
 the ground a soldier whose knee-joint had been crushed 
 by a bullet. The drivers said that the mules had not 
 been broken, that out of two hundred mules only a 
 dozen pairs walked properly, while the rest were all 
 the time starting, and breaking and overturning the 
 stretchers. Besides, our drivers did not know how 
 
252 IN THE WAR 
 
 to manage the mules, who were used to the Chinese 
 words of command. The drivers constantly mixed up 
 the commands, and ordered them to go to the right 
 when they meant to turn to the left. To make matters 
 worse, by a curious irony of the linguistic genius, the 
 Chinese "tpru" or "tprue" signifies precisely the op- 
 posite of our "tpru," the order to stop. Forgetting 
 themselves, the drivers shouted, "Tpru, you devil, 
 tpru !" and the mules conscientionsly started at a gal- 
 lop. 
 
 Some half-frozen soldiers came to our farmhouse to 
 get warmed up and to drink tea. 
 
 "How are things going .f^" 
 
 "Bad ! All our marvellously fortified positions are 
 now ordered to be abandoned, and we are to retreat 
 beyond Hun-ho !" 
 
 "But tell me, how did all this happen .^^ We have 
 more troops than the Japanese." 
 
 "More!" a captain of Cossacks replied, pensively. 
 "More. And now our artillery is better." 
 
 "Our infantry shoots far better than the Japanese 
 infantry. The Japanese are victorious because they 
 do not spare any cartridges." 
 
 "Yes. And there is no need saying anything about 
 the cavalry." 
 
 "And yet they beat us." 
 
 "Why.?" 
 
 "Yes, why.?" 
 
 Baggage-trains kept passing by, and infantry col- 
 umns passed also. The ring of the cannonading bent 
 more and more sharply around us. A young China- 
 man from a neighboring farmhouse recalled with the 
 impudent and roguish manner of a suburban dweller 
 the China-Japanese War, and told us that at that 
 time the Chinese troops ran from the Japanese in pre- 
 cisely the same manner that the Russian troops were 
 running now. 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 253 
 
 "China soldier, Russ soldier, all le samee. Jap, puff- 
 puff ! China soldier run, run! Russ soldier run, run I 
 All le samee!" 
 
 He patted us familiarly on the shoulder, he rolled 
 in laughter, and pointed to the retreating columns. 
 Near the millstone an old Chinaman carefully scooped 
 up from the ground bits of kao-liang which had been 
 scattered by our horses in feeding. I accidentally 
 glanced at the old man: he was holding the scoop in 
 his hand, and was peering over the clay fence at the 
 troops that were moving through the dust. The China- 
 man's wrinkled face was all contorted with consuming 
 hatred and malicious joy. But he noticed that I was 
 looking at him, and his face immediately became 
 dispassionate and expressive of nothing whatso- 
 ever. 
 
 And the baggage-trains and the troops kept moving 
 past. No one knew where our corps staff was. Some 
 Trans-Baykal Cossacks rode up to us, some sappers 
 of the postal telegraph division, some orderlies — they 
 all asked where the Staff of the Corps was. 
 
 "We do not know. We ourselves are very much in- 
 terested in the matter." 
 
 We were in doubt as to whether to move on or wait 
 for orders. Maybe they had completely forgotten 
 about us, and maybe there was not any need to leave. 
 Our master of arms, who had gone to Mukden, told 
 us upon his return that all the letter-boxes had been 
 removed at the station, and that no telegrams were 
 accepted. On the platform lay stacks of private pack- 
 ages from Russia, which were being freely distributed 
 to those who wanted them: "They will be burned 
 soon, anyway!" 
 
 To the south rose dense clouds of smoke from the 
 stores of the Fu-shun branch, which had been fired 
 by us. The cannon roared. The Caspian Regiment 
 passed by. Two drunken, emaciated soldiers, their 
 
254 IN THE WAR 
 
 eyes red from brandy, dust, and fatigue, tottered by. 
 
 "Your Honor, where did the Petrov Regiment go 
 to?" they asked, with faltering tongues. 
 
 "I do not know. Where did you get a drink.''" 
 
 *'We came by the stores across the branch. They 
 give away everything, take all you want, alcohol, cog- 
 nac, sugar, all kinds of garments." 
 
 The baggage-trains of the Nineteenth and Twentieth 
 East-Siberian Regiments passed. The baggage-trains 
 were in charge of an officer. We asked him how mat- 
 ters were. 
 
 "There are only our two regiments behind us, and 
 no one else. Behind them are the Japanese. Why is 
 your hospital here?" 
 
 "We have received no order to move." 
 
 "I should advise you to break camp and get away. 
 See what happened to us at Liao-yang: the hospitals 
 were slow in getting away, and it became necessary 
 for our regiments to cover their retreat, and so we had 
 very considerable losses." 
 
 "Tell us, please, is it true that we are giving up 
 Mukden?" 
 
 "Mukden!" the officer said, in surprise. "Don't say 
 that! No, no! The Army is merely changing front! 
 That's all!" 
 
 A calm evening followed. The sun went down, and 
 the west was dimly red from smoke and dust. The 
 thin crescent of the new moon appeared, and be- 
 neath it the evening star twinkled with a greenish light. 
 The black clouds of smoke from the burning buildings 
 were tinged with the evening glow. In a neighboring 
 village, on the bank of the river Hun-ho, stood the 
 East-Siberian Rifle Divisions of the Nineteenth and 
 Twentieth Regiments. The chief surgeon rode up to 
 them to take council as to what to do. The chief of 
 the brigade. General Putilov, suggested that one of 
 the surgeon-soldiers should stay with him, and that 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 255 
 
 he would let us know through this soldier when we 
 should leave. 
 
 All night long enormous clouds of smoke swayed to 
 the south over the burning stores. A new glow arose 
 to the west and spread rapidly. In the grove near 
 the neighboring village axes could be heard, chopping 
 in the darkness : the riflemen were preparing an abatis. 
 
 Next morning, February 24, guns began to thunder 
 all around us, and we had the impression that we 
 were completely surrounded by an enormous, thunder- 
 ing, firing ring. In the neighboring village the shrap- 
 nel burst in clouds, the Shimoses whined, the rifle fire 
 cracked: the Japanese were crossing the river Hun-ho 
 under the fire of our riflemen. 
 
 Everybody around us was occupied with an enor- 
 mous, important, mortally serious matter, but we stood 
 still, without work, without aim, without sense, like 
 unbidden guests who had come inopportunely. 
 
 At eleven o'clock the soldier who had been despatched 
 by us came from the neighboring village. He brought 
 us General Putilov's order to break camp immediately 
 and move to the north, to Hou-lin. 
 
 We had everything ready, and our horses were under 
 their collars. Fifteen minutes later we started. A 
 company of soldiers came running up and took up a 
 position behind the clay fences of our yard. From 
 the neighboring village the slowly retreating riflemen 
 appeared. Above them rose round curls of smoke. 
 With a whining sound the shrapnel burst in the air. 
 It looked as though a malicious herd of invisible crea- 
 tures of the air were driving the riflemen before them. 
 
 We proceeded to the north. A mad wind blew from 
 the south, and in the dim air clouds of greyish-yellow 
 dust whirled, so that we could not see ten steps ahead. 
 Dying oxen wallowed on each side of the road, and 
 broken carts, discarded fur jackets and felt boots lay 
 
256 IN THE WAR 
 
 all about. The straggling soldiers walked lazily on the 
 footpaths, or lay on the Chinese graves. There was 
 an amazing number of drunken men among them. 
 
 Three soldiers were walking slowly on the road. 
 They were sober and emaciated. 
 
 "What regiment .f'" 
 
 "Irkutsk." 
 
 "Where is your regiment .f*" 
 
 "We do not know. We are looking for it." 
 
 Their regiment had been stationed near the Erdshou 
 crater. These three had been located in front of the 
 trenches in an ambush. At night the regiment had 
 been removed from the positions and they had been 
 forgotten. Suddenly they discovered that the trenches 
 were empty and that the troops were gone. 
 
 More and more baggage-trains crowded on the road, 
 and it became necessary to stop more frequently. 
 Diagonally across from them, over the beds of the 
 fields, a battalion of infantry drew near. A mounted 
 officer shouted in a hoarse and angry voice to an of- 
 ficer whom he met: 
 
 "Aleksander Petrovich, where is Colonel Panov.'^" 
 
 *'I do not know. I have not seen him for two days." 
 
 "The devil choke them all! This is not order, but 
 some kind of a bagnio! Where shall we lead the bat- 
 talion.?" 
 
 There was in the very air a sense of helplessness 
 and despair. One could see that no one knew or un- 
 derstood anything. 
 
 The baggage-trains stopped completely. Over a 
 cross-road the ordnance of the Trans-Baykal battery 
 was hastening in an endless line to the west. Through 
 the dust could be discerned the black, slender gun-bar- 
 rels, the heads of the horses, the yellow cap-bands, the 
 bronzed faces of the Buryat horsemen, with their slant- 
 ing eyes.^ We stood still. Between the ordnance a 
 dust-covered mounted officer, an orderly, crossed over 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT ^57 
 
 to our side. He had a youthful, fatigued, and per- 
 plexed face. 
 
 "Do you know where the village Yun-shin-pu is ?" he 
 asked us, hurriedly. 
 
 "We do not." 
 
 "Oh, there, friend! Where is Yun-shin-pu .f"' he 
 shouted to a passing Chinaman. 
 
 Without raising his head, the Chinaman continued 
 to walk along the road. The officer rode up to him 
 and madly swung his knout at him. The Chinaman 
 started to say something and to move his arms. The 
 officer galloped to one side. From under the hoofs 
 of his horse the wind carried away gigantic clouds of 
 yellowish dust. 
 
 Suddenly the rapidly moving battery began to stop. 
 The Buryat Cossacks checked their horses and pulled 
 them to one side. The ordnance stopped. An officer 
 of artillery rode by, cursing in a loud voice. 
 
 "We are again ordered to go back!" he said, turn- 
 ing to us strangers, and madly gesticulating. ^' Would 
 you believe it? All we have been doing since morning 
 is to flop from one side to another: now we are sent 
 to Mukden, and now we are ordered to turn back!" 
 
 In the opposite direction the ordnance again flashed 
 in the dust, and the dusky faces of the Bury ats with 
 their flat noses could be seen bobbing about. 
 
 The road was cleared and we moved ahead. We 
 went on and on. The guns roared on all sides, and be- 
 hind us and to the right the frequent rifle discharges 
 cracked. 
 
 About two o'clock we arrived in Hou-lin, but we 
 could not even think of stopping here. Everything 
 was rapidly taken up and moved to the north. On a 
 mountain slope, which was covered with enormous ce- 
 dars and firs, we rested for half an hour, in order to 
 have a meal. From the road clouds of dust scudded 
 through the trees, and the flame from our fires bent 
 
^58 IN THE WAR 
 
 earthward. Above us, over the fir-trees, the white flags 
 with the Red Cross flapped at the spot where the dress- 
 ing stations of the Novocherkask Regiment and a di- 
 vision lazaretto were located. Blood-stained wounded 
 men stirred, groaned, died. There were no convey- 
 ances in which to move them, and they lay in rows. 
 Beyond the mountain the rifle fire resounded feverishly 
 and bullets hummed through the firs. On the top 
 of the mountain one could see the Novocherkask 
 soldiers running back, and falling wounded or dead, 
 and after them the Japanese advancing in extended 
 chains. 
 
 To move on! To move on! Like the wandering 
 Jew, without work, not wanted by anybody, we moved 
 on with dozens of carts that were loaded with useless 
 "government property." How could we think of 
 abandoning all that truck and putting into the carts 
 the maimed men upon whom the shrapnel would soon 
 fall! We should have to be responsible for the lost 
 property. The rifle fire came nearer and grew louder. 
 The wounded were agitated, raised themselves on their 
 elbows, and listened in terror. 
 
 And we moved on. 
 
 It was a wide Chinese road, overgrown on either 
 side with bushes. The wagons moved through the dust- 
 clouds in close array. At the edge of the road, near 
 three farmhouses, a number of men were crowded to- 
 gether, and wagons kept coming and going. Those 
 were the commissary stores. They had not been moved 
 away in time, and, rather than burn them, they were 
 freely distributed to the passing troops. Our chief 
 surgeon and supervisor drove up and took away some 
 oats and preserves. 
 
 "Would you like to have a keg of brandy?" a com- 
 missary official asked. 
 
 Davydov's eyes burned with eagerness, and he wa- 
 vered. But the supervisor emphatically forbade it, on 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 259 
 
 the ground that he did not want his detachment to 
 become drunk on the march. 
 
 Our baggage-train moved on. The soldiers secretly 
 cursed the supervisor for having refused the brandy. 
 
 Near an enormous keg of liquor, with the lid broken 
 in, stood a commissary official and distributed dipper- 
 fuls of the liquor to any one who wanted it. 
 
 "Take it, boys ! As much as you can ! I'll have to 
 burn it, anyway!" 
 
 The soldiers, with dusty, worn faces, crowded 
 around him. They presented their fur caps to him, 
 and he filled them to the brim with liquor, which the 
 soldiers carried away, holding the caps carefully by 
 the edges. They immediately put their lips to them 
 and drank eagerly, without taking breath. Then they 
 shook out the caps and merrily proceeded on their 
 way. 
 
 We fell in with more and more tottering, beastly- 
 drunk soldiers. They lost their rifles, shouted songs, 
 and fell down and rolled in the dust. The bushes 
 were filled with motionless bodies. Three artillerymen, 
 waving their arms, were walking over the beds of 
 the fields with bunches of kao-liang. 
 
 Who were these commissary officials ? Traitors, who 
 had been bought by the Japanese .^^ Scoundrels who 
 wished to enjoy the complete disgrace of the Russian 
 Army.? Oh, no! They were only good-natured Rus- 
 sians, who could not comprehend the idea of personally 
 putting fire to such a precious thing as liquor. All 
 the subsequent days, during the period of the grievous 
 retreat, our Army swarmed with drunken men. It was 
 as though they were celebrating a joyous, universal 
 holiday. It was rumored that in Mukden and in the 
 villages Chinamen who had been bought by Japanese 
 emissaries had been filling our war-worn, retreating 
 soldiers with the devilish Chinese liquor, han-shin. 
 Maybe that was so. But all the drunken soldiers 
 
260 IN THE WAR 
 
 whom I asked told me that they had received brandy, 
 liquor, or cognac from all kinds of Russian stores 
 which had been ordered to be burned. What was the 
 use for the Japanese to waste money on the China- 
 men? They had a more faithful and more disinter- 
 ested confederate, and one that was more terrible to 
 us, that dark confederate with whom the Commander- 
 in-Chief struggled in vain with his documents, a con- 
 federate who constantly destroyed our telegraph and 
 telephone connections, who carried off the most im- 
 portant parts of our railway construction, and sys- 
 tematically disseminated a fierce hatred toward us 
 amidst the peaceful local inhabitants. 
 
 We proceeded over sandy, wood-covered hills until 
 darkness fell. The rumbling of the cannon barely 
 reached us now from the dim distance. 
 
 Near the road a prosperous Chinese farm, sur- 
 rounded by a stone-wall, rose on a hill in the forest. 
 We stopped there for the night. All the farmhouses 
 were already crowded with officers and soldiers. We 
 had to locate ourselves in a dark barn with sliding 
 doors. 
 
 The faces of our acquaintances, gaunt, greenish- 
 grey from dust, looked strange and unfamiliar. Our 
 shoulders hung loosely, and we did not feel like stir- 
 ring. There was no water, not only with which to 
 wash, but not even for making tea: the units which 
 had arrived earlier had drained the brook completely. 
 With great difficulty we procured one-fourth of a 
 bucket of some liquid mud, and this we boiled, and, 
 pouring tea leaves into it, drank for tea. 
 
 Two officers of our acquaintance came up to us. 
 
 "How do matters stand .?" 
 
 They moved their arms in despair. 
 
 "The troops are everywhere on the run, and the 
 Japanese are pressing on all sides. To-day they have 
 occupied Mukden." 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT ^61 
 
 "To-day! Excuse me, to-day is the twenty- fourth 
 of February!" I exclaimed. 
 
 We looked at each other in surprise; it was a week 
 ago that the Japanese had invited the Russians to 
 Mukden on the twenty-fifth for "Shrove- tide dump- 
 lings !" Of course, that was only a coincidence, but 
 a superstitious tremor passed through our souls. 
 
 Assistant Supervisor Bruk hastily entered the room, 
 holding a white sheet over his head. 
 
 "Gentlemen, to-day's number of the Messenger of 
 the Manclmrian Army,^^ 
 
 We eagerly seized the sheet. 
 
 Here it still lies before me — I have preserved it — 
 that historical sheet which left the printing-press dur- 
 ing the universal flight of the Russian Army, the num- 
 ber of the twenty-fourth of February, 1905 (Nos. 201, 
 S02). 
 
 "To-day the attacks of the Japanese on Niu-sin-tun 
 have been repelled, and our troops have themselves as- 
 sumed the offensive. At San-tai-dzy five attacks have 
 been repelled. The losses of the enemy are very great, 
 and this evening they have perceptibly fallen back. 
 This morning the last party of Japanese has been 
 driven out of the village Yun-huan-tun. The Com- 
 mander of the Corps, in the name of the Commander- 
 in-Chief, expresses his thanks to the Army. Accord- 
 ing to the observations of our volunteer scouts, the 
 Japanese baggage-trains are retreating southward. 
 The troops are in good spirits, and are boiling tea, 
 in expectation of an attack. The Japanese, almost 
 shot to pieces, have retreated. A stubborn engage- 
 ment has been taking place since on the positions in 
 the neighborhood of Fand-zia-tun. In that region and 
 in the reserves of the war positions, several of our 
 regimental bands are playing. The attitude of the 
 troops is one of calm and merriment." 
 
 The next number of the Messenger did not ap- 
 
262 IN THE WAR 
 
 pear; the printing-press was abandoned, and the edi- 
 tors only saved themselves by a hasty flight, but up 
 to the last minute, to the last number, they insisted 
 that everything with us was in a splendid condition, 
 and they did not betray by even a word that our posi- 
 tions had been surrendered to the Japanese, that the 
 stores had been burned, and that Mukden was being 
 abandoned. 
 
 Best of all is the ending of the number — a vignette, 
 and, after it, with literal correctness, the following: 
 
 "Lo, the mountain summits 
 In the darkness sleep; 
 Quietly the valleys 
 Rest in freshness deep; 
 Dustless is the road now, 
 Motionless each tree — 
 Wait but for a moment. 
 Rest will come to thee! 
 
 "These verses are given in the translation of our 
 great Russian poet, the lieutenant of the Tengin In- 
 fantry Regiment, Mikhail Yurevich Lermontov, who 
 was killed in 1841, while in action — a man of military 
 valor, with a true Russian soul." 
 
 Period. That's all. What is this? What for? 
 What is its meaning? 
 
 Everybody roared. Next morning, during the re- 
 treat, everybody repeated this doggerel, a pendant to 
 the above, and improvised by a young Cossack stand- 
 ard-bearer : 
 
 "Quiet is the road now. 
 Merged is all in sleep. 
 Only furious Nogi 
 Does to Harbin creep. 
 Few of us are living, 
 All are on the run. 
 Japee, stop a moment. 
 Stop your noisy fun!" 
 
 We froze all night in the cold barn. I hardly closed 
 my eyes, and dozed off but for a few moments. As 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 26S 
 
 soon as day began to break all arose and got ready. 
 The farmyard was filled with carts. To avoid con- 
 fusion, the senior officer arranged the order of the 
 march for the units at the start. Our baggage-train 
 was the last to move. 
 
 In the grey dawn cart after cart drove out upon 
 the road. It was still a long way off for our turn. 
 We drank tea, and went with Shantser to the farm- 
 house where the officers were sleeping. It was already 
 empty. We sat down on the oven bed. The golden 
 yellow mattings which were spread on it were still 
 warm and it was warm in the farmhouse, I lay down 
 on the matting and put my cap under my head. The 
 thoughts in my head became mixed and slowly merged 
 into' a warm, soft mist. 
 
 Shantser awoke me. I told him that I would sleep 
 until my time came to leave, and that he had better 
 send for me then. Half an hour later I awoke, re- 
 freshed and invigorated. I went out into the yard. 
 Beyond the spreading fir-trees gleamed a red glow, 
 and it was quite light. Over the deserted yards of 
 the farm the old Chinese landlord walked slowly and 
 softly. 
 
 "Your Honor, Your Honor!" I heard the breath- 
 less and excited voice of my orderly. 
 
 I answered, and he came running up to me. 
 
 *'Go quickly ! Everybody is going away ! The Japa- 
 nese cavalry has attacked us from behind!" 
 
 We ran back of the farm, where our baggage-train 
 was located for the night. The near and repeated 
 crackling of rifles could be heard. Having become ac- 
 customed to it formerly, I paid it no attention. How 
 was this.f^ How did the Japanese manage to get here? 
 
 Our wagons rolled out into the road one after the 
 other, Shantser and the chief surgeon, on horseback, 
 stood at the top of the hill and watched. I mounted 
 my horse and galloped up to them. The rising sun 
 
264 IN THE WAR 
 
 with its slanting rays lit up the yellowish grey plain, 
 over which galloped strange-looking horsemen, with 
 bands on their caps. They flitted across the road over 
 which we had reached the farmhouse last night. On 
 the road could be seen through the dust the Russian 
 carts, and the soldiers with a lost expression on 
 their faces, urging on the horses. Beyond the hill 
 frequent rifle discharges resounded, and cannon 
 boomed. 
 
 We turned about and rode behind our baggage- 
 train. The road wound along the foot of the moun- 
 tain, which was covered with dense forests. Over the 
 trees whitish puff's of smoke arose, and the sound of 
 the bursting shrapnel could be heard. A second, a 
 third puff^ of smoke, and the shrapnel began to burst 
 more frequently, more evenly over the forest. 
 
 The carts drove madly along the road, and the in- 
 fantrymen ran through the bushes. In the yard of a 
 farmhouse near the road pale foot-soldiers were bus- 
 tling, hastily putting on their bags, and attaching the 
 pots with trembling hands. From the farmhouse came 
 an officer with his cap perched on the back of his 
 head. 
 
 "What is this?" he shouted angrily at the soldiers. 
 
 "Your Honor, everybody is leaving!" 
 
 "Leaving .P Let them leave I We will fight! Atten- 
 tion!" 
 
 The carts rushed on. The road was crowded, and 
 a part of the wagons had to turn aside and drive 
 over the fields across the beds. From the forest an 
 artillery park rushed upon our road. The double 
 green caissons had three pairs of horses attached to 
 each of them, and the drivers lashed the horses furi- 
 ously over their lathered sides. The caissons flew past, 
 thundering with their enormous iron wheels. The ar- 
 tillerymen galloped as though the road ahead of them 
 were free, whereas it was full of carts. 
 
THE MUKDEN ENGAGEMENT 265 
 
 "Stop, you devils! Where are you trying to go?" 
 we shouted angrily at the artillerymen. 
 
 But they rushed on, overturning the carts. Above 
 the whirling wagons suddenly was heard a mad cry, 
 which just as suddenly stopped: the shaft of the 
 powder cart, at full speed, hit the head of a soldier 
 who was holding back his cart on a slope, and he 
 rolled under the iron wheels with a split skull. The 
 park rushed on. 
 
 Now here, now there, a wagon was overturned. The 
 soldiers cut the harness, mounted the horses, and gal- 
 loped away. The eyes in the pale faces were enormous, 
 senseless, dull. 
 
 And to the right of us, over a broad, steep ravine, 
 a long column of soldiers marched to a counter at- 
 tack of the bursting shrapnel. The slanting rays of 
 the morning sun glided down the ravine, and the sol- 
 diers walked with their caps turned inside out, their 
 rifles in their hands, their faces stern and serious. Be- 
 hind, from a ditch, the bayonets of the reserves could 
 be seen. 
 
 So there were some defenders! Everybody felt re- 
 lieved. The panic subsided. The carts hurried on, 
 but the senseless expression disappeared from the faces, 
 the eyes began to look human. 
 
 The road turned to the right and went through a 
 large Chinese village. The wooded hills, where the 
 discharges were heard, were left behind. 
 
 Suddenly a stop. The carts in the rear began to 
 stop, one after the other. What had happened .^^ 
 
 We rode ahead. The artillery stood right across 
 the road. 
 
 "Can't you drive a little to one side, so as to make 
 a passage for the carts .?" the ofScers of the baggage- 
 train asked. 
 
 The lieutenant-colonel of artillery surveyed us 
 haughtily and with indifference. 
 
^66 IN THE WAR 
 
 "I can't. I am waiting for orders." 
 
 Everybody stood still for about ten minutes. Ahead 
 of the ordnance the road was free. 
 
 "Have you heard .^ The carts which were travelling 
 behind us have all been captured by the Japanese!" 
 
 Again a feeling of nervousness was observable in 
 the baggage-train. The artillerymen stood immovable, 
 and with quiet, laughing eyes looked at the agitated 
 baggage-train. At last the lieutenant-colonel gave an 
 order. The battery drove up a hill and began to place 
 the ordnance. The baggage-train started again. 
 
 The guns stood a little while on the hill. Suddenly 
 we saw them again hitched to the limbers, and the bat- 
 tery left the hill and made its way into the very midst 
 of the baggage-train. 
 
 "They have done their fighting! They have 
 enough!" the men of the baggage-train said, laughing. 
 
 In the distance, over the fields, a dense greyish-yel- 
 low streak of dust, disappearing into the sky, moved 
 from the south to the north. That was the Mandarin 
 Road, choked with the retreating troops. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 ON THE MANDARIN B-OAD 
 
 The baggage-train moved slowly over the broad road in 
 a dense, close line. Wagons, two-wheeled carts, ord- 
 nance and powder carts crowded together like blocks 
 of ice during the breaking of the river. They stopped 
 slowly, and then moved slowly on. The pungent, yel- 
 lowish-grey dust rose in whirls, and hoarse shouts and 
 curses could be heard. 
 
 Our baggage-train stood at the edge of the road 
 and was not able to get on it. The carts moved on in 
 uninterrupted succession, and those behind hurried to 
 follow those in front, so as not to give us a chance to 
 come in between. 
 
 "Oh, there ! Stop your horses !" our supervisor 
 shouted in a threatening, authoritative voice to a sol- 
 dier of one of the baggage-trains. 
 
 The soldier looked up, laughed, and whipped up his 
 horse. The wagon rolled past, and after it came other 
 carts, hurriedly and zealously pressing close to one 
 another. But one of them was not on the look-out 
 and fell back a few feet from the one in front. The 
 driver of our first cart started up, whipped up his 
 horses furiously, and rolled into the road. His whip 
 snapped with a swish over the heads of the horses 
 which were pressing on in the rear. Our wagons, 
 one after the other, rolled rapidly into the road, and 
 the drivers, with evil and triumphant faces, slashed 
 the heads of the horses that were rearing behind, in 
 the attempt to cut off our horses. Everybody was 
 shouting and cursing. 
 
 267 
 
268 IN THE WAR 
 
 It was a clear, warm, breezy day. On each side ex- 
 tended the greyish-yellow fields with their beds. The 
 carts, ten or twelve deep, slowly moved over the road. 
 Over the foot-paths, at the edge of the road, wandered 
 irregular crowds of soldiers of the line and rode of- 
 ficers, Cossacks, and soldiers of the baggage-train, on 
 their horses with their cut traces. In the thick of the 
 procession our baggage-train was constantly dis- 
 rupted, and it was now travelling in three separate 
 parts. They were amazingly quickly lost from sight. 
 If you happened to lose a minute in conversation, and 
 then looked around, you could not see the familiar 
 carts. Gigantic wagons, drawn by six horses, passed 
 by with their black pontoons. Chinese two-wheeled 
 carts with the Red Cross flag rattled by. You gallop 
 ahead, you gallop back — nowhere a familiar face, no- 
 where a familiar cart. You ride along, having aban- 
 doned all hope of finding anybody — suddenly by your 
 side you see a cart of your hospital, and you hear a 
 familiar voice. 
 
 The torrent of carts, wrapped in dust, slowly moved 
 on, stopped, stood still, again began to move. At 
 narrow turns of the road, when entering a village, 
 or near the bridges, the confusion became intolerable. 
 Ten rows of carts could not get by at once, and they 
 hurried on, and tried to cut each other out, came 
 in conflict, and were in each other's way. The red, 
 savage faces flashed through the dust, and the sound 
 of blows, the swish of whips, and hoarse curses could 
 be heard. As always, the authorities, forever annoy- 
 ingly present where they are not needed, were absent 
 here. No one in command gave orders, and the carts 
 struggled and blocked the way in hopeless confusion. 
 Other carts pressed on in the rear; the jam was ter- 
 rible, and the whole torrent came to a stop at the very 
 horizon. 
 
 New baggage-trains kept pouring from the cross- 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 269 
 
 roads into the Mandarin Road. In the rear the can- 
 non thundered in a broad semicircle, and the rifle dis- 
 charges rattled. A Siberian sharp-shooter, with a 
 blood-stained bandage on his arm, was walking over 
 the kao-liang beds towards the road. 
 
 "Are you straight from the battle-field?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Well, how about the Japs?" 
 
 He waved his arms. 
 
 "They keep pressing on, an endless number of 
 them !" 
 
 A covered canvas cart came by, and in it lay a 
 wounded officer. His face was completely covered with 
 bandages, so that only the opening of his mouth could 
 be seen. The bandages were wet and looked like a 
 blood-red mask, through which the blood was oozing. 
 By his side sat another wounded officer, pale from 
 the loss of blood. Saddened and feeble, he held on 
 his knees his comrade's bloody head. The two-wheeled 
 cart shook and swayed, and the bloody head bobbed 
 impotently, as though lifeless. 
 
 Through the dusk, in a mass of moving carts, flashed 
 the familiar face of a woman. It was immeasurably 
 worn, pale, with black rings around the eyes. I recog- 
 nized Sister Kamenev, the wife of the artillery officer. 
 She was travelling alone in her buggy, without a coach- 
 man. She sat sideways, and on the floor of the buggy 
 there lay something large and bulky, covered with an 
 oil-cloth. 
 
 I made my way between the carts to Sister Kamenev 
 and greeted her. 
 
 '^Are you alone?" 
 
 "Yes," she answered, with a voice as if from another 
 world. 
 
 Her large dark eyes were fixed and stared out from 
 the black circles. "I ordered a coffin in Mukden, you 
 know, and wanted to take him to a train in order to 
 
270 IN THE WAR 
 
 send him to Russia. The coffin did not come in time, 
 and they would not take him on the train without it. 
 They did not take him. They were abandoning the 
 station." 
 
 Suddenly I understood; that large, bulky thing 
 which was lying under the oil-cloth on the floor of 
 the buggy was her husband. The breeze blew from 
 the buggy the oppressive odor of decaying flesh. 
 
 "Varvara Fedorovna, what is to be done.? Have 
 the body buried here. I'll arrange it for you. You 
 cannot take it along!" 
 
 She stared at me in strange surprise. 
 
 *'No, I will take him along. If I leave him here, I 
 will go crazy, anyway." 
 
 "Your Honor ! Mr. Doctor !" a soldier cried from 
 the other side of the road, as he noticed through the 
 dust my white band with the Red Cross. He motioned 
 to me and asked me to come to him. 
 
 I made my way through the stream of carts. Near 
 the side of the road lay a soldier with dull eyes and 
 a pale, contorted face. By his side stood another sol- 
 dier with a bandage over his head. 
 
 "Mr. Doctor! Do help him! This is simply hor- 
 rible ! The man has a bullet wound in his belly and 
 nobody wants to pick him up ! Is he to die here like 
 a dog.^" 
 
 I dismounted and examined the wounded man. The 
 injured abdomen was covered with a bandage, and 
 the pulse was barely beating. 
 
 "See what a lot of carts are going by, and they're 
 all loaded to the top ! Just look ! A whole wagon 
 filled with felt boots! And is he to be left here? Felt 
 boots are worth more than a human life!" 
 
 What was to be done? We stopped the carts and 
 begged them to throw down a part of their load and 
 take up the wounded man. The drivers answered, 
 "We dare not do so!" The officers in charge of the 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 271 
 
 baggage-trains said, "We have no right to do so!" 
 They agreed to place the wounded man on top of a 
 load. The wounded man held on to the ropes as long 
 as he could, but he lost his strength and rolled off. 
 
 Carts passed. Men with guilty faces drove by, try- 
 ing not to look at the prostrate man. I thought of 
 how they had eagerly inquired whether any one in the 
 rear was defending us, whether there was a screen be- 
 hind us. There men were struggling, saving us, just 
 like this dying man. Now he was useless and wallow- 
 ing in the dust near the road, and all tried to pass by 
 as quickly as possible, so that the sad reproach which 
 looked from the dim eyes might not burn them. 
 
 I had a few opium powders in my pocket. I gave 
 one to the wounded man and poured some cognac from 
 a flask into his mouth. What else could be done for 
 him? 
 
 Softly, like a thief, I mounted my horse and rode on. 
 
 An overturned two-wheeled cart, loaded with rifles, 
 was lying in the dust. Bags filled with oats and rice 
 were scattered about. Dying horses, with enormously 
 bloated bellies, were rubbing their long heads over the 
 ground. Disorderly crowds of infantrymen sauntered 
 by with their rifles leisurely swaying on their backs, 
 and Cossacks rushed past on their horses. In the 
 sunlit distance the guns roared like dull claps of 
 thunder. 
 
 An oflicer of dragoons whom I knew drove up to us. 
 
 "Well, Captain, how do matters stand there.''" 
 
 "An absolute defeat, absolute ! Our men are run- 
 ning like rabbits ! Let a handful of Japanese ap- 
 pear on the hill, and the whole regiment is on the 
 run !" 
 
 Sturdy Cossacks passed by us, their caps poised 
 jauntily on their heads; they looked funny in their 
 bravado. One felt a sense of shame as one looked at 
 
m^ IN THE WAR 
 
 the bayonets of the infantrymen, as they gleamed in 
 the dust — they were now so harmless and so pitiful! 
 And the leisurely sauntering, awkward soldiers, too, 
 looked pitiful and harmless. 
 
 From their dust-covered faces peered embarrassed, 
 perplexed eyes. 
 
 "Your Honor, is it true that five powers are fighting 
 against us.^^" 
 
 I drew aside. 
 
 "No, only one!" 
 
 "Not at all, sir, fi\Q^ powers. We know it for sure. 
 How could one get so many troops.'* They press on 
 in countless numbers! Five powers, sure!" 
 
 "What five.?" 
 
 "Japan, China, America, England, then — ^what do 
 they call it? — ^what is the name of the country that 
 lies at our left flank.'*" 
 
 "Korea.?" 
 
 "That's it ! Five powers !" 
 
 The carts were crowding down the slope towards 
 the bridge. The artillery park was pushing the 
 carts aside, and the wheels of the wagons were rum- 
 bling. The mounted artillerymen urged on the horses, 
 and they were prepared to cut right across. 
 
 "Countrymen, go more slowly ! You will crush us !" 
 shouted a soldier of the baggage-train. 
 
 "Ride them down!" yelled an artilleryman, who was 
 sitting on the box of the powder cart. 
 
 A lieutenant-colonel of infantry rode up to him. 
 
 "You son-of-a-b ! How dare you command 
 
 here.? Stand still! Where are you rushing.?" 
 
 The artilleryman's eyes glistened impudently and 
 maliciously. 
 
 "Where.? Just where you are rushing!" 
 
 Threatening fires flashed in the eyes of the lieuten- 
 ant-colonel, but something more threatening and more 
 terrible flashed in the soldier's eyes. I suddenly felt 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 273 
 
 that that which but two days ago had been difficult 
 even to imagine had now become possible and easy. 
 And the lieutenant-colonel, too, felt it. 
 
 "Move on, boys ! Don't stop !" 
 
 The mounted artillerymen struck the horses and the 
 park cut into the baggage-train. The whips snapped, 
 the powder carts, one after another, drove over the 
 bridge. Pale with anger, the lieutenant-colonel looked 
 on in silence. 
 
 On and on, slowly and spasmodically, the endless 
 stream of carts crept. At the edge of the road there 
 sat a weary musician, with an enormous, shining horn 
 over his shoulder. A shaggy white Chinese pony with 
 a wrenched hind leg was tugging at the reins. Arch- 
 ing its back, the pony leaped about pitifully on three 
 legs. In front a soldier was pulling it by the rein, 
 and behind it another was driving it with a stick. The 
 pony reacted little to the strokes, so the soldier hit 
 it over the painful part of the leg. Then the pony, 
 arching its back even more, began to leap about rap- 
 idly. 
 
 "Why don't you abandon her.?" I said to the soldier. 
 
 "I should like to, for she has worn me out, but I have 
 been commanded to bring her up." 
 
 Again the carts and men were lost from sight, and 
 again they were unexpectedly met with. Everybody 
 I had met in the last six months in Manchuria was 
 here. It was all like an endless Nevski Prospekt, with 
 an enormous, strange crowd, in which one every mo- 
 ment discerned some familiar faces. 
 
 Two officers of sappers from our corps rode up. 
 The young lieutenant laughed maliciously and rubbed 
 his hands in glee. 
 
 "Have you heard.? All the baggage of our Corps 
 Commander has fallen into the hands of the Japanese," 
 he informed me. "Oh, how glad I am ! The scoundrel ! 
 He ran away, and did not let anybody know about 
 
274 IN THE WAR 
 
 the retreat I We lost all our baggage through him! 
 All that is left is what we have on us!" 
 
 "So they did not let you know?" I said, laughingly. 
 *'We, too, went off without being informed." 
 
 "That's nothing! Just hear what happened yester- 
 day! A Cossack brought the report that the Japa- 
 nese were at Fu-lin. The commander of the corps 
 laughed: *Bosh!' and ordered us to take the telegraph 
 to Fu-lin. There the staff of our army was located. 
 We went with our telegraph company. Hellish firing! 
 The commander of the company sent me to the com- 
 mander of the corps, and I told him that the Japanese 
 were at Fu-lin, and that they were firing at us from 
 there. The commander of the corps listened to my 
 report. 'Are they firing?' And he looked venomously 
 at me. 'Lieutenant, that's what war is for, that they 
 should be shooting. Go and take the telegraph to 
 Fu-lin!' We laid the line. We were warmed up with 
 shrapnel. Past us rode a captain with his Cossacks. 
 'What are you doing here?' said he. 'Get away just 
 as quickly as you can! The Japanese are coming!' I 
 galloped to the staff — there the ant-hill was already 
 broken up. Everybody was mounting a horse. I hur- 
 ried to the chief of the staff : 'What do you command 
 us to do with the cable? Shall we take it down?' 'I 
 don't know. I don't know. Do as you please! Only 
 I advise you to get away as quickly as possible !' 'Can't 
 you give us any protection?' 'No, no, I can't! Do the 
 best you can! Good-bye!' Then they all galloped 
 away !" 
 
 The lieutenant's companion, a corpulent and mus- 
 tachioed staff captain, was keeping solemn silence. The 
 lieutenant moved with animation in his saddle, and kept 
 laughing. 
 
 "We have got the, cable, but all of the captain's 
 pontoons are in the hands of the Japanese. The pon- 
 toon battalion was ordered to go to cover at Hun-ho 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 275 
 
 as though it were a body of infantry. They retreated, 
 and there were all the pontoons ! 'Why didn't you get 
 away ?' 'We had no orders !' So they abandoned the 
 pontoons, and merely took away the horses. I tell you 
 it was an awful confusion! They all lost their heads, 
 upon my word ! You only imagine that they have their 
 heads, but in reality they have left them behind." 
 
 Drunken men were wallowing at each side of the 
 road. A soldier would be sitting on a mound, his 
 rifle between his knees, his head drooping. If you 
 touched him on his shoulder, he would roll down like 
 a bag. Was he dead.^^ Was he sleeping a deep sleep 
 from fatigue .f' His pulse was beating, his face was 
 red, and he exhaled an odor of liquor. 
 
 Another was tottering along the road, his rifle swing- 
 ing over his shoulder. 
 
 "Countryman, where did you get something to 
 drink.?" 
 
 "The Cossacks gave me some ! May God give them 
 health for it ! I saw them as they were riding and 
 they were all drunk. Said I to them, 'Won't you give 
 a cupful to a soldier.?' 'A cupful.? Take a tumbler- 
 ful — ^we don't care! We have just cleaned out a 
 Chinese hanshin distillery!' I drank a tumblerful. 
 It was miserable stuffs, but I swallowed it. After I 
 had drunk it warmth passed through my veins, and 
 my hand stretched out by itself for another tumbler- 
 ful. The main thing, I didn't have to pay for it. 
 He was a fine fellow!" 
 
 On one wagon sat a non-commissioned ofiicer with 
 a smiling face, who sold from a large wooden box bot- 
 tles of cognac, rum, and port wine, at fifty kopeks a 
 bottle. He had seized the box in the stores of the 
 Red Cross, which had been consigned to the flames. 
 
 It was warm, and my head was in a whirl from fa- 
 tigue. The carts entered a large Chinese village. 
 Chinamen stood near the farmhouses blinking from 
 
276 IN THE WAR 
 
 the bright sunlight and the dust, and looking at the 
 retreating troops with dispassionate, inexpressive 
 eyes. 
 
 "Your Honor ! Your Honor !" 
 
 On a mound a soldier of our detachment was waving 
 his arms at me. 
 
 "Please come to this alley. Our men have stopped 
 there." 
 
 In a clearing back of the farmhouses, on the bank 
 of a brook, the two hospitals, Sultanov's and ours, 
 were bivouacking. A few institutions of our corps 
 were also stationed there, together with our Corps 
 Commander. 
 
 Fires were burning, and the soldiers were heating 
 water for tea, and warming their canned food. We 
 learned from the surgeons of Sultanov's hospital that 
 they, too, had been doing nothing since leaving M., 
 and had been stationed with everything packed to the 
 south of Mukden. But the staff of the corps, to be 
 sure, had not forgotten to inform them of the retreat. 
 Sultanov, yellow in the face, shrunken, surly, was sit- 
 ting on his camp-stool, and Novitskaya was putting 
 some sugar into his coffee. We had something to 
 eat, and drank tea. Dust stood in clouds above the 
 street. The carts creaked, and curses were heard. 
 Behind the village there was an old, narrow bridge 
 across a brook, and the carts fought for their turn 
 to get across. 
 
 A detachment of Cossacks rode by. 
 
 "You are resting yourselves here in vain! The 
 Japanese are beyond the hill!" they said, with un- 
 concern. 
 
 That was incredible, for we had retreated a con- 
 siderable distance. None the less, nervous haste made 
 its appearance. The men hurriedly finished the feed- 
 ing of the horses and tied up the carts. 
 
 Our commander found a ford near our clearing, and 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD ^77 
 
 he determined the order in which the carts were to 
 cross. Sultanov's hospital was first, although his usu- 
 ally came after ours. 
 
 Sultanov's baggage-train crossed the brook and 
 drove over the ploughed fields to the Mandarin Road. 
 Ours started. The slope towards the brook was steep 
 and the rise on the other side was still steeper. The 
 horses stretched their backs and slipped, the whips 
 swished, the soldiers, taking hold of the carts, dragged 
 them up with the horses. 
 
 Behind our baggage-train there was already a dense 
 mass of other carts, and an endless line of wagons kept 
 crossing the narrow bridge. 
 
 Suddenly, beyond the brook, in a field near a Chinese 
 cemetery, an enormous column of yellowish-grey smoke 
 arose silently in the air, and then a short, dull thud 
 was heard. I looked about me in perplexity. What 
 was that? A new column of smoke arose amidst the 
 trees of the cemetery, the twigs flew into the air, the 
 branches fell down. I had not yet become conscious 
 of what had taken place when the terror which sud- 
 denly seized everything about me made matters clear 
 to me. 
 
 Beyond the brook the carts, leaping, flew over the 
 beds of the fields, and the soldiers, leaning forward, 
 madly whipped up the horses. Below, near the ford, 
 men, horses, and carts were struggling in wild con- 
 fusion. Everything around us was furiously rush- 
 ing somewhere. 
 
 A deafening noise was heard near the slope leading 
 to the bridge. From the smoke rushed forward a horse 
 with broken shafts. An artillery park flew by, over- 
 turning wagons. A man was flung from the box to the 
 ground. His outstretched arm fell under the wheels. 
 He turned a somersault in the dust, raised himself to 
 his knees, was knocked down by the flying horses, and 
 once more rolled under the wheels. 
 
278 IN THE WAR 
 
 Another projectile burst, and still another. A 
 breathless voice shouted: 
 
 "Mishka, cut the traces!" 
 
 The voice penetrated the terrified souls like an au- 
 thoritative command which must be obeyed without 
 reasoning. The soldiers hurriedly cut the cart traces, 
 leaped on the horses, and galloped away at full speed 
 to the other side. Others did not think of riding, but 
 simply let the horses run away, and started back them- 
 selves on foot. 
 
 "Scoundrels ! Where are you running? Are you 
 running after the rabble of the baggage-train? Go 
 back to your places !" a hoarse, despairing voice cried 
 out amidst the general confusion. 
 
 A lieutenant of artillery on horseback was whirhng 
 with his drawn sword amidst the ordnance, which had 
 got stuck in the midst of the baggage-train. The 
 gun squad paid no attention, but kept on cutting the 
 traces. 
 
 "What are you doing there? What are you doing 
 there ?" 
 
 The lieutenant swung his sword and struck a sol- 
 dier on the shoulder. The soldier drew back, silently 
 ducked his head, and ran down the incline. The lean, 
 lank captain of artillery, with pale face and enormous 
 eyes, sat immovable on his horse. He understood that 
 nothing could be done now. 
 
 On a hill a Shimose glistened with a thundering 
 noise and bespattered us with clay. The artillerymen 
 hurriedly mounted the horses and galloped away. I 
 rode after them. The lieutenant dropped his sword 
 and covered his face with his hands. 
 
 Near the slope of the ford, abandoned carts, men 
 and horses were mingled in wild confusion. The ar- 
 tillery lieutenant dashed by on the high bank. His 
 face was red, his lips mumbled something unintelligible, 
 his eyes glistened with a madman's fire. In senseless 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 279 
 
 flight he rushed along the brook in the direction of the 
 bursting shrapnel, and his spurs madly tore the flanks 
 of his horse. I rode up on the further bank. Beyond 
 the brook, alone amidst the abandoned ordnance, the 
 lean artillery captain was still sitting immovable on 
 his horse. He had something in his hand. He raised 
 his arm, and near his head there was a little flash, — and 
 the captain fell like a heavy bag to the ground from 
 the back of the startled horse. 
 
 The air was filled with shrapnel smoke. Some sol- 
 diers ran tottering over the fields, while others gal- 
 loped on horses with the traces dragging in the dust. 
 All eyes peered senselessly into the distance, or rolled 
 senselessly from side to side. Enormous wagons with 
 black pontoons rushed by. A heavily laden cart with 
 the Red Cross dashed along, and a pale soldier on the 
 box whipped the horses madly up a steep incline, where 
 the cart was bound to be overturned. Indeed, the cart 
 ran up the incline and, as though having prepared 
 itself beforehand, flew into the ravine. 
 
 But how did the Japanese get there? Later, much 
 later, we found out: two or three Japanese guns had 
 galloped, with mad daring, through the open space 
 which had formed itself for a distance of several versts, 
 had taken up a position on the hill without any cover, 
 and had opened fire on the ford. And all this mass 
 of armed men started to run and hundreds of thousands 
 of rubles' worth of property was destroyed. 
 
 The brook and the bursting shrapnel were already 
 far behind us, but the wagons were stiU dashing on- 
 ward. They kept throwing heavy articles from the 
 carts, so as to lighten the load. Something had sud- 
 denly happened, and our relations to "property" had 
 strangely changed. Formerly the men had been afraid 
 to throw a couple of worn horse collars from the wag- 
 ons in order to make room for a wounded man, but 
 
280 IN THE WAR 
 
 now they readily discarded whole bales of soldiers' 
 cloaks, bags with provender and food, officers' trunks, 
 and baskets. Frequently they threw away things with- 
 out any need whatsoever. There Was something pa- 
 thetic and hopelessly elemental in all this. It was as 
 if the abandoned property, though unheard by their 
 consciousness, were whispering to their souls, "More 
 or less, it's all the same now — ^no one will ask about 
 it!" 
 
 We were already five versts beyond the brook, and 
 the carts were travelling at their customary gait. A 
 powder cart which had strayed from its park was 
 among them. Suddenly the soldier who was sitting 
 on the box shouted to the mounted artillerymen: 
 
 "Stop!" 
 
 They stopped. The soldier dismounted leisurely, 
 pulled out a little box from behind, and fetched from 
 it a wooden spoon and an eighth of tobacco. 
 
 "We have had enough trouble! It will do! Boys, 
 take off the traces !" 
 
 The traces were taken off, the artillerymen mounted 
 the horses, and, abandoning the powder cart, rode on 
 at their ease. 
 
 It was as though a superior counted for nothing. 
 Mine became somebody else's, and somebody else's be- 
 came mine. The moment a cart was overturned the 
 soldiers started to loot it. From all sides there ap- 
 peared human jackals, who scented prey. I was told 
 later that the marauders purposely caused false alarms 
 in the night, in order to loot the carts during the 
 confusion. During the panic of baggage-trains at 
 Pu-he two Cossacks started to break open the treasure- 
 box of the pontoon park. The sergeant shot one Cos- 
 sack, wounded the other, and carried off the box. 
 
 The rapacious looting, which had been practised on 
 the helpless Chinese, now burst forth with hissing, sul- 
 phureous fires, and spread through our own Army. 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 281 
 
 The eyes burned, and needless things were seized. 
 These were thrown away, and other things were 
 grabbed. 
 
 And shame disappeared. 
 
 A laughing soldier, dangling his legs, was riding a 
 horse with cut traces. Jauntily perching his cap on 
 his head, he said: 
 
 "The Japs drove us from the positions, and I ran 
 and ran! I joined the hospital, and marched with it. 
 They attacked the hospital with shrapnel, and I ran 
 again. I saw a cart standing with its horses. I cut 
 the traces, mounted a horse, and rode off. On the road 
 I picked up a bag filled with hardtack, and some 
 canned goods, and some oats for the horse. And now 
 I'm riding famously." 
 
 Broken-down horses and shattered carts were lying 
 about everywhere. The road was covered thickly 
 with abandoned fur jackets, bales, and muskets. Dis- 
 orderly crowds of ragged soldiers were sauntering 
 about, and it was hard to believe that but lately all 
 these had formed orderly columns of troops. 
 
 "Your Honor, what is this?" the soldiers asked. 
 "They are driving us just as we drove the French in 
 the year 1812." 
 
 "I think that Russia's lucky star has gone down 
 forever," said a foppish corporal, whose face and 
 voice betrayed that he had been a clerk. 
 
 An elderly soldier with a shaggy beard replied 
 gloomily : 
 
 "Mother Russia has surpassed her strength! She 
 has reached her limit !" 
 
 He walked along, ominously shaking his head, and 
 repeating the incomprehensible words: 
 
 "She has surpassed her strength! She has sur- 
 passed !" 
 
 The endless ribbon of the carts moved on. Again 
 the familiar faces and carts were suddenly lost from 
 
282 IN THE WAR 
 
 sight and were found once more. Again a tired sol- 
 dier, with an enormous, shining horn over his 
 shoulder, was sitting near the road. Half-crazed Sis- 
 ter Kamenev passed by in her buggy with her ter- 
 rible load. Arching her back, the shaggy white pony 
 with the wrenched leg leaped in pain, while the soldier 
 who was behind her was trying to strike her with a 
 switch over the sore spot. There was the pony. 
 She was saved ! And so it had to be ! Guns and carts 
 were abandoned, behind us stores worth millions were 
 burning, and this useless, maimed pony was being 
 dragged along, and would, of course, be saved! Sud- 
 denly I felt in this an enormous, painful, symbolic 
 caricature. 
 
 A pale Cossack with a shattered chest had been 
 tossed on top of a heavily loaded two-wheeled cart, and 
 was grasping the tarred ropes with his feeble hands. 
 Two soldiers were carrying on a stretcher an officer 
 who had lost a leg. The soldiers were morose, and 
 kept their eyes on the ground. The officer, his eyes 
 senseless from fear, turned to all the officers and sur- 
 geons whom he met with the words : 
 
 "For God's sake, gentlemen, they want to abandon 
 me! Don't let them!" 
 
 It was rumored that nothing was left of the Second 
 and Third Armies, that the troops had surrendered 
 by whole battalions without firing a shot, and that the 
 Japanese appeared everywhere in countless numbers 
 and madly pressed the retreating men. 
 
 "Well, now, of course, there will be an end of the 
 war," said those who were frank. 
 
 The same secret, unuttered thought found lodging 
 in the heads of the soldiers. When the panic from 
 the fire on the ford had subsided, a joyous "Hurrah!" 
 resounded from somewhere. It turned out that, under 
 the fire, the sappers had fixed up the broken bridge, 
 and had brought back the abandoned ordnance, for 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 28S 
 
 which the commander was thanking them. Through 
 the crowds of the retreating soldiers there passed a 
 joyously expectant tremor and all asked each other: 
 
 "Well, has an armistice been announced?" 
 
 Slowly, slowly moved the stream of the carts. The 
 roads were wretched, the slopes steep, the bridges nar- 
 row and half destroyed. Everybody thought only of 
 himself. Here is a narrow place in the road. Across 
 it is a deep hollow, deeper on one side than on the 
 other. Every cart sticks in that hollow. The whips 
 swish over the hard-pulhng horses, the soldiers strain 
 to the utmost in their attempt to help the cart, and 
 the cart finally gets out of the hollow. The next cart 
 gets stuck in the same place, and again all is bustle, 
 shouting, and swishing of whips. A more heavily 
 loaded cart drops into the hollow and is overturned. 
 If the men took a couple of spades they could fill in 
 the hollow in five minutes, and then the carts could go 
 at a gallop if they pleased. But everybody thought 
 only of himself and of his cart. 
 
 But why were the roads so terrible and so impassa- 
 ble.? We had been retreating during the whole war. 
 It could have been assumed, even with a small degree 
 of probability, that we would have to retreat again. 
 Here is where the curse was: our people considered 
 this one thing the safest means against retreat, — to 
 announce stubbornly that there would be no retreat, to 
 act stubbornly in such a way that no one could even 
 imagine such a thing as a retreat. 
 
 A strange thing! During the whole campaign the 
 Japanese did not have one occasion to retreat, but 
 each time they took the most cautious and careful 
 measures in case there should be a retreat. All we 
 knew about was retreat; and yet each time our re- 
 treat was for us something unexpected, and again 
 and again we retreated over "unprepared roads." Be- 
 yond Tieh-ling only one railway bridge led across the 
 
284 IN THE WAR 
 
 river Liao-ho. Our Third Army crossed the river over 
 the cracking, water-covered ice. If the battle had 
 taken place a week later, it would have been im- 
 possible to get across over the ice, and the Japanese 
 would have captured our whole army with bare 
 hands. 
 
 I was told that at Ta-shi-kiau Kuropatkin, who was 
 inspecting the hospitals, had asked one of the chief 
 surgeons why there was no bath and no bakery in 
 connection with the hospital. The chief surgeon was 
 confused and replied that they did not know whether 
 they would have to stay there long. Kuropatkin in- 
 formed him firmly and calmly: 
 
 "Do you see the river.? The Japanese will not go 
 beyond this river. Put up a stone bake-house and a 
 bath-house. Let the soldiers have a good Russian 
 bath." 
 
 The Japanese flung us hundreds of versts "beyond 
 this river" ; but near Mukden everything proceeded 
 in the old spirit. The stores of military and economic 
 properties were stretched out in a thin line parallel 
 with the front. The persons in authority kept saying 
 that there would be no retreat. A week before the 
 Mukden engagement our hospitals were reprimanded 
 by the authorities for the small supply of fuel, and 
 they were ordered to lay in supplies of from five to 
 six cubic units. A cubic unit was at that time worth 
 about a hundred rubles. The wood was bought, and 
 two weeks later these mountains of fuel were burning 
 before the advancing Japanese. "There will be no 
 retreat ! There will be no retreat !" We surrendered 
 Liao-yang in August, and up to that time all the 
 country to the north of Liao-yang had been in our 
 hands ; and yet we had not taken the trouble to have 
 a good plan made of it. What was the result? Now, 
 in the engagement near San-de-pu, one of the causes 
 of our failure was the absence of good maps, and the 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 285 
 
 incorrect conception about the situation of the village 
 of San-de-pu. 
 
 The word is power. To enunciate as many and as 
 loud and threatening words as possible, "such as keep 
 up the spirits" — that was the main thing. It was not 
 at all important that facts all the time belied the 
 words cruelly, — don't mind that! All that you had 
 to do was to frown more sternly and to enunciate the 
 threatening word more significantly and more omi- 
 nously. Kuropatkin, upon his arrival, announced that 
 peace would be made only at Tokio^ — and a few months 
 later the Russian Army sang the sarcastic doggerel: 
 
 "Kuropatkin then was saying 
 That to Tokio he'd repair. 
 Why, my charger, art thou neighing? 
 Why art drooping in despair?" 
 
 When Grippenberg arrived in the Army, he ad- 
 dressed the soldiers with these solemn words : "If any 
 of you retreat, I'll kill you ! If I retreat, kill me !" 
 That's what he said — and then he retreated from 
 San-de-pu ! 
 
 In the beginning of the Mukden Engagement, the 
 hospitals which had been stationed at Su-ya-tun were 
 transferred to the north. In regard to this, I was 
 told that Kaulbars issued an order in which he wrote 
 (I haven't seen the order myself) : "The hospitals were 
 transferred because the projectiles of the Japanese 
 siege-guns reached as far as Su-ya-tun; but this does 
 not in the least indicate a retreat. There will be no 
 retreat under any circumstances ; there will be only an 
 advance." A week later the whole Army, as though in 
 the grip of a hurricane, did not retreat — it ran north. 
 
 It was during this very flight, a few hours before 
 the loss of the printing-press, that the official Messen- 
 ger of the Manchurian Armies sang sweetly of dozens 
 of repulsed attacks and of the forthcoming retreat 
 
286 IN THE WAR 
 
 of the Japanese, and acquainted its readers with the 
 productions of Lermontov, "the lieutenant of the 
 Tengin Regiment." 
 
 They say that during the Anglo-Chinese Opium War 
 the Chinese, in order to frighten the Enghshmen and 
 "keep up the spirits" of their own men, had placed 
 enormous, monstrous guns made of clay in conspicuous 
 spots. The Chinese went into battle making grimaces, 
 contorting their bodies, and emitting savage cries. 
 Nonetheless, the English were victorious. Against 
 the clay guns they had smaller ones, but theirs were 
 of iron and shot real balls. Against the grimaces and 
 contortions there were organization, discipline, and 
 careful calculations. 
 
 The sun was setting, the sky became clear and calm. 
 There was spring-like fragrance and it was warm. 
 High up in the heavens, indifferent to what was taking 
 place upon earth, the geese were flying northward. 
 But all about us in the dust the weary line proceeded ; 
 the accursed parks and batteries dashed forward reck- 
 lessly, and the disorderly crowds of soldiers sauntered 
 along. 
 
 Men were seized by mortal fatigue. One's head was 
 in a whirl and one's body barely kept itself in the 
 saddle. One was thirsty, but all the wells along the 
 road were dipped dry. There was no end to the road. 
 At times it seemed as though in another minute I 
 should fall down from my horse. Then there would 
 be an end! That was perfectly clear. No one will 
 care for you; everybody is thinking only of himself. 
 
 And there in the approaching interval between the 
 retreating Russians and the advancing Japanese some- 
 thing was waiting which was more terrible than cap- 
 tivity, more terrible than death. The inhabitants of 
 the country devastated by us, those ominously silent 
 nien with enigmatic, dispassionate faces, lay in wait in 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 287 
 
 that intervening space, like jackals, for those who fell 
 behind. Everybody knew that there would and could 
 be no mercy from them, that we had done everything 
 to fill their souls with a bloody, unslacked hatred for 
 us. I recalled how the Buryats had slaughtered a 
 sheep for us in the Trans-Baykal steppe, and I re- 
 called the thoughts which I then had. 
 
 One's soul became rigid in cold terror. Will-power 
 was stretched to the utmost to retain the body in the 
 saddle, and one's hand felt for the revolver in one's 
 hip-pocket, to assure oneself that the redeemer for 
 the occasion was near. 
 
 Later, much later, I learned what even now makes 
 my soul tremble in wonderment and the desire to bend 
 my knees in reverence. A medical student had re- 
 mained in our hospitals at Mukden and fallen into 
 the hands of the Japanese. He was soon released and 
 he told in the Harbin Messenger that the Chinese of 
 their own good-will picked up the Russian wounded 
 on the Mandarin Road and carried them to Mukden to 
 the Japanese hospitals. Consider that they did not 
 expect any reward from the Japanese, for the Japanese 
 were miserly in the matter of rewards. Being them- 
 selves overwhelmed with their own wounded, they natu- 
 rally could only look awry at the Chinese with their 
 burdens. And it was in this way that these enigmatic 
 men revenged themselves upon us for their ruined 
 country and their profaned graves and temples. 
 
 The sun went down and the crescent of the new 
 moon faintly shone above the glow. I fell in with 
 Shantser and Selyukov. Shantser was animated and in 
 good-spirits, as usual. Selyukov sat upon his horse 
 like a living corpse. I learned from them that part 
 of our baggage-train had been abandoned near the 
 ford where we came under the Japanese fire. 
 
 We agreed not to part from one another and tp 
 
S88 IN THE WAR 
 
 watch each other carefully in the treacherous bag- 
 gage stream, in which men were swallowed up and 
 lost like so many grains of sand. 
 
 It grew darker. The crescent of the moon had dis- 
 appeared. Behind us and to the left of us could be 
 seen the glow of fires. We were moving over by- 
 paths. The turbidly grey earth showed non-existing 
 ruts under our feet and concealed real hollows. It was 
 impossible to travel away from the road, and equally 
 impossible to travel on the road: it swarmed with jolt- 
 ing carts which would have broken our horses' legs. 
 In daytime the wagons moved slowly; now they were 
 nearly always standing still. They would move a few 
 hundred feet, and then they would stop again. We 
 had long ago lost our baggage-train from sight. 
 
 It was cold. At each side of the road bivouacks were 
 placed and fires were burning, and these fires made the 
 darkness still more dense. It was really not permitted 
 to make fires, but no one paid any attention to this. 
 
 Officers of a regiment, who had stopped with their 
 battalion for a short rest, made us comfortable near 
 their camp-fire. They treated us to cognac, sardines, 
 and tea. Our gratitude and joy at seeing that there 
 were such good people in the world were unlimited. 
 
 To the south slowly swayed an enormous, continu- 
 ous glow of fire. To the west the stations were burn- 
 ing along the railway tracks. It was as though a 
 series of enormous, quiet torches were extending along 
 the horizon. These torches stretched out far ahead 
 of us. It looked as though all who knew how to save 
 themselves had long gone north, beyond the dark hori- 
 zon. And we were here in a sort of ring. 
 
 An officer of orderlies who had lost his way was sit- 
 ting near me, stirring his tea in a tin cup, and talking. 
 
 "Nobody knows where the regiment is. Whither was 
 I to go? Suddenly I noticed the Staff of our army. 
 JS^aulbars was standing and interrogating a Chinese 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 289 
 
 prisoner. I walked up and stood waiting. Another 
 officer rode up and asked in a low voice where the 
 Seventh Regiment of the Rifle Division was. When 
 Kaulbars heard this he swiftly turned around. 'What.'* 
 What is it?' 'Your Excellency, I must know where 
 the Seventh Regiment of the Rifle Division is.' Kaul- 
 bars looked at him. *The Seventh Regiment?' He 
 turned back and shrugged his shoulders. 'I do not 
 know what has become of my whole Army, and he asks 
 me where my Seventh Regiment is !' " 
 
 I laid my head on the legs of Selyukov, who was 
 sleeping soundly, and covered myself with my fur 
 jacket. A calm, warm rest enfolded me. One of the 
 officers was talking in an angry voice to the orderly, 
 interrupting himself now and then. 
 
 "We were located in the flank of the Third Army, 
 near the Second. The siege battery was behind us. 
 On the nineteenth we suddenly heard that they had 
 taken it away. Where? Do you know where? To 
 Tieh-ling! We didn't want to believe it. They were 
 saving the things. They were saving the guns in the 
 beginning of the engagement. The thought that they 
 might fall into the hands of the Japanese was terrible. 
 What is this anyway? Do the guns exist for the 
 Army, or the Army for the guns?" 
 
 I was just beginning to lose consciousness, but sud- 
 denly it came back to me. I recalled that just at the 
 time when we were crossing the river Hun-ho we had 
 met the Borisoglyeb Company, as it was taking its 
 ordnance to Tieh-ling. 
 
 "We fought for three days, and we had no artillery. 
 We had nothing but rifles with which to meet the 
 Japanese ordnance. They had carried off^ not only 
 the siege battery, but also all the guns. In our Army 
 it is considered better to lose a thousand soldiers than 
 to subject one gun to danger. Send a telegram that 
 a whole division has been laid low, and you are hon- 
 
S90 IN THE WAR 
 
 ored! Send a telegram that you have lost one gun, 
 and you are disgraced! All the time they were think- 
 ing not of doing harm to the Japanese with the guns, 
 but only of keepkig the guns out of the hands of the 
 Japanese. Is it really a disgrace to surrender a gun 
 when it has done everything that it can?" 
 
 "Well, the Japanese are not afraid of it," was heard 
 a low bass. "They fly forward with their guns in a 
 most impudent manner, without any protection, and 
 they make it hot for our men." 
 
 "That's right! A gun is lost. The devil take her! 
 She has done all the good she can !" 
 
 I listened and suddenly recalled an episode from 
 Bonaparte's Italian expedition. He was besieging 
 Mantua. An enormous Austrian army started from 
 the Tyrol to relieve it. Then Bonaparte abandoned 
 his heavy siege guns at Mantua, about two hundred 
 cannon, and dashed to meet the Austrians, whom he 
 completely annihilated. One has to laugh at the very 
 thought — ^who would have dared to have abandoned 
 two himdred siege guns in our Army.^^ We would have 
 risked our whole Army, but we would have tried to save 
 the guns ! 
 
 It became comprehensible why our hospitals had 
 been taken so hurriedly to the rear in the very begin- 
 ning of the engagement. Everywhere was an immeas- 
 urable caution, which was always expecting the worst. 
 It was not the caution of a cold, calculating daring, 
 but the caution of cowardice, the fear of a risk, the 
 fear of what they might say there. 
 
 I was beginning to fall asleep. The same angry 
 voice, which interrupted itself, was cursing the artil- 
 lery. 
 
 "They are an ulcer on the body of the Army ! Just 
 like the general staff! Landed proprietors in glasses, 
 Frenchified dandies in tight trousers and lacquered 
 boots. When it was necessary for us to go to a coun- 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 291 
 
 ter attack, it turned out that no artillery was near! 
 We took the village without any artillery aid. Where 
 were they, the darlings ? They were on the run, push- 
 ing everybody on the way ! They know that their guns 
 are the most precious things in the army !" 
 
 "No, gentlemen! Are they our warriors?" asked 
 another voice, which was calm and saddened. "Where 
 are these former lions? If a couple of Japanese peep 
 out from behind the graves, a whole company of them 
 starts on the run." 
 
 "They are rabble, not soldiers !" resounded the 
 angry bass. "The whole Army ought to be located in 
 hospitals, and Kuropatkin ought to visit them and dis- 
 tribute warm jerseys among them." 
 
 "Doctor, Doctor ! Wake up !" 
 
 A hand was touching my shoulder gently and cau- 
 tiously. The battalion was departing. We awoke. 
 
 It was still dark and the camp-fires were burning 
 everywhere. Below, on the road, could be seen the 
 black outlines of the swarming carts. Our hungry 
 horses sadly browsed on the ground at last year's 
 grass. Since I had fallen asleep, it had grown colder, 
 and I was terribly sleepy. 
 
 Bands of soldiers passed by. 
 
 "Have you any idea how far the Japanese are from 
 here ?" 
 
 "About a verst from here. Beyond that hill." 
 
 All about us were steep descents. We mounted our 
 •horses, rode down to the road, and made our way 
 between the standing carts. We rode about a verst. 
 The carts were standing still, like a stream congealed 
 in its course. The camp-fires were burning. 
 
 Blocking the passage, the heavily-laden wagons 
 could be outlined. Beyond, above them, was the even, 
 unobstructed road. The soldiers were dozing on the 
 carts. 
 
292 IN THE WAR 
 
 "Why are you stopping? Did anything get 
 broken ?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "Why do you obstruct the way?" 
 
 They were silent for a moment. 
 
 "We are feeding the horses. His Honor the Cap- 
 tain has gone to sleep, and has told us not to wake 
 him." 
 
 "You good-for-nothing! Why don't you drive to 
 one side? Don't you see that all the carts are stand- 
 ing still on account of you?" 
 
 "We are ordered to stay here, for later it will be 
 hard to get back on the road." 
 
 Our conversation was overheard by the lieutenant- 
 colonel of the baggage-train, who rode up from be- 
 hind. Swaying and out of breath from indignation, 
 he went away to awake the captain. 
 
 We rode on. By degrees the road became filled with 
 carts once more, and it became increasingly difficult 
 to make our way between them as they moved. We 
 almost lost Selyukov. It was impossible to proceed by 
 the roadside. All right ! We shall wait here for day- 
 light, come what may! 
 
 Three sappers were sitting on a mound near a camp- 
 fire and baggage carts were standing nearby. The 
 soldiers crowded up to each other and made a place 
 for us by the fire. 
 
 "Your Honor ! Is it true what they are telling, that 
 a truce has been declared?" one of them asked me. 
 
 "How can one talk truce now, when one can't find 
 anybody? But peace, of course, is near at hand. It 
 is impossible to continue the war, — that is perfectly 
 clear." 
 
 "Indeed, it would be time to make an end of it. We 
 have been fighting for a long time." He was silent 
 for a moment. "Tell me, will we have to pay the 
 Japanese?" 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD g9S 
 
 "It is very likely that they will ask for an indem- 
 nity." 
 
 "So the peasants will have to pay more taxes ! No, 
 it would be better to continue fighting!" 
 
 "What was the Tsar thinking about when he started 
 the war?" another said, sighing. 
 
 Behind us a shot was fired in the darkness, a sec- 
 ond, and the firing became general. They were shoot- 
 ing not more than a verst away. All were atten- 
 tion. 
 
 "Oh, the Japanese are not sleeping!" Shantser said, 
 becoming nervously agitated. "They are driving us 
 without cessation ! Apparently they have made up 
 their minds to act differently than before, and they 
 are listening to advice !" 
 
 "Who is giving them this advice.?" a soldier asked, 
 in wonderment. 
 
 "The foreign newspapers have been writing all the 
 time that the chief blunder of the Japanese is that they 
 crush an army, but do not pursue it!" 
 
 The soldier scratched his head. 
 
 "He's clever as it is ! And still they are teaching him 
 how!" 
 
 The firing grew stronger and came nearer. Below, 
 along the road, dashed the carts, and shouts and curses 
 were heard. A band of soldiers rushed past the camp- 
 fire. 
 
 "Good fellows, what does this firing mean?" 
 
 "Why, the Japs are pressing on; they have seized 
 all the carts !" 
 
 "Have we any protection?" 
 
 "What protection? Our men shoot once, and then 
 start to run!" 
 
 Soldiers ran by, and below the carts were flying. 
 The sappers hastily took their wagons back to the 
 road. 
 
 "Shall we ride on?" Shantser asked. 
 
294f IN THE WAR 
 
 Selyukov was sitting with drooping head, completely 
 exhausted. 
 
 "I shan't ride! I'll roll off the horse, anyway!" 
 
 I, too, suffered from a dull fatigue which responded 
 to nothing in the world. Well, they will capture me. 
 They wiU shoot me, that was a matter of infinite in- 
 difference to me. To sleep ! To sleep ! That was the 
 only important thing! 
 
 "I'll lie down to sleep, myself," said I. "What is 
 the use of riding anyway.^ The carts will crush us 
 to death." 
 
 We lay down around the campfire. The firing 
 crackled and rolled on; it did not disturb our souls. 
 New stations to the north were fired all the time — those 
 were simple torches, which burned evenly on the hori- 
 zon, without any concern to us. The thought of dis- 
 tant dear ones passed through my mind. It merely 
 flashed and disappeared. 
 
 I awoke at daybreak. The fire had long ago gone 
 out. Our arms had swelled under the armpits from 
 the tight sleeves of the fur jackets, and the cold pene- 
 trated our bones. Shantser and Selyukov, covered 
 with hoar frost, were sleeping near the embers. The 
 horses stood crestfallen, with drooping heads. 
 
 On the road, as before, an endless procession of 
 carts moved slowly to the north. Two bodies of sol- 
 diers which had been removed from the road were 
 lying by the roadside, trampled by wheels and horses' 
 hoofs, and covered with dust and blood. Where were 
 the Japanese .5^ They weren't there. It was an abso- 
 lutely causeless panic which had taken place in the 
 night. Somebody had shouted in his sleep, "The Japs I 
 Fire!" and the panic started. The carts dashed on- 
 ward in the darkness, crushing people and going over 
 precipices. The soldiers fired into the darkness^ kill- 
 ing their own people. 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 295 
 
 I awakened Seljukov and Shantser, and we mounted 
 our horses and rode off. The stars were growing dim, 
 and the cold morning glow was spreading. We wa- 
 tered the horses at the river. 
 
 It grew lighter and lighter. The sun swam out to 
 the right from behind some craters, and a warm wind 
 passed through the air. Our bodies were rested, and 
 we felt refreshed and invigorated. In the gleaming 
 blue haze ahead of us could be seen a distant city, 
 above which the cupolas of shrines and the bent edges 
 of the roofs rose artistically. 
 
 . . . The distant city in the morning, 
 Full of mystery and splendor . . . 
 
 Along the road an officer rode up to us. It was 
 Lieutenant Shestov, that orderly of the Staff who, dur- 
 ing the engagement, had ridden with us because "he 
 didn't know where the Staff was now." The lieutenant 
 surveyed us ironically and asked us with a supercilious 
 smile : 
 
 "Are you running away.?^" 
 
 "We are." 
 
 "And I am riding to Mukden." 
 
 "To Mukden?" 
 
 "Yes, to Mukden," replied the lieutenant, emphasiz- 
 ing his words. It was as though he, in his bravery, 
 knew something which we in our cowardice did not wish 
 to know. 
 
 "A happy journey!" 
 
 We entered the city. Was this Tieh-ling? No, it 
 was still thirty versts to Tieh-ling. Over the straight, 
 narrow street moved carts and batteries and passed 
 crowds of soldiers. Under the merry morning sun 
 the strange stream slowly descended through the quiet, 
 individual life of the Chinese town. Smoke rose from 
 the chimneys, so naturally, so peacefully. Near the 
 
g96 IN THE WAR 
 
 inn, beneath a silver fish on a red post, Chinese were 
 crowding. Across the street ran children with black 
 queues on the tops of their heads. Through the chinks 
 of the paper windows maidens' eyes glistened curi- 
 ously. 
 
 We passed through the city. Beyond it the country 
 became more hilly. A whole ocean of carts was 
 crowded in front of a bridge. The Cossacks worked 
 their knouts, clearing the way for some kind of cart. 
 
 "Don't crowd, devil's children! Wait for your 
 turn !" 
 
 "Do you suppose the Chief Commander is going to 
 wait for you? Move aside!" 
 
 Leaning down from their saddles, the Cossacks seized 
 the cart horses by the bridles. The knouts swished 
 through the air. The baggage-train of the Third 
 Army staff rushed by. A general of importance drove 
 past in his carriage. ... 
 
 The country became more hilly, and mighty craters 
 arose on each side. It grew cold, and the wind raised 
 clouds of dust. The carts were disputing each other's 
 way as before, and tried to get ahead of each other in 
 the narrow passes. The discipline fell visibly. . . . 
 
 In the morning we met a part of our baggage-train, 
 with which were Dr. Grechikhin and Assistant-Super- 
 visor Bruk. We travelled together after that. No- 
 body knew where the chief surgeon and the supervisor 
 were. 
 
 Towards evening there appeared in the distance a 
 high mountain crowned with fortifications. Beyond 
 the mountain lay Tieh-ling. The road branched in 
 two directions. At the fork of the roads an officer 
 on horseback was stationed, and he shouted : 
 
 "The Sixth and the Sixteenth Corps to the right! 
 The First and the Tenth to the left !" 
 
 For the first time in all this long journey, full of 
 confusion and anarchy, somebody was making ar- 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD ^97 
 
 rangements, somebody was thinking of something. We 
 approached the foot of the mountain. There was a 
 long line of deserted gardens, surrounded by low clay 
 fences. The bivouacs stood in close array, and the 
 plain was covered with camp-fires. We also stopped. 
 
 All three other hospitals of our corps were already 
 here. Ill and jaundiced, Sultanov lay in a four-horse 
 wagon which had been intended for the Sisters. 
 Novitskaya, with black, parched lips and a dust- 
 covered face, was shouting angrily at the soldiers, like 
 some landed proprietress. The passing soldiers looked 
 in amazement at this unusual chief. 
 
 "Is a woman commanding you.^^" they asked Sulta- 
 nov's soldiers, with a smile. 
 
 Sultanov's soldiers kept stubborn silence, and turned 
 their faces away. 
 
 Zinaida Arkadevna walked up to us. 
 
 "That will do! That will do!" she said, dropping 
 her arms in attractive fatigue. "We have seen enough 
 of terrors 1 Good-bye ! We are going to Harbin by 
 rail! Do you know, poor Varvara Fedorovna got 
 separated from us and travelled all the way alone in 
 her buggy, with the half-decayed body of her hus- 
 band lying in a heap at her feet! She came here and 
 wanted to send the body from the station by train, but 
 they would not accept it. Finally a general, a dear 
 man, took pity on her. He ordered the body to be 
 packed in mattings and sent on by freight. She has 
 gone by train with the body." 
 
 We found quarters in a mean little clay barn. Our 
 friends, the officers and surgeons, came to see us. 
 
 "Our Corps Commander has been ordered to place 
 a division at the positions before Tieh-ling, but they 
 do not know at the staff where the regiments are. They 
 are all lost!" 
 
 "Will there be an engagement near Tieh-ling?" ^ 
 
 "God knows ! Possibly some insignificant rear-guard 
 
WS IN THE WAR 
 
 action. It is iinpossible to get the troops together, 
 and there are no mihtary supplies : all the stores were 
 lately beyond the positions — and part of them have 
 been shot to pieces, part of them have been dynamited, 
 so as not to let them fall into the hands of the Japa- 
 nese.'* 
 
 "Yes, gentlemen, it's a bad story !" 
 
 A young surgeon, with a wounded arm, was telling as 
 follows : 
 
 "Ever since early morning have I been looking for 
 our Corps Staff; but nobody knows where it is. I was 
 told, 'There is the train of the Commander-in-Chief! 
 Go and ask there !' I went and asked. 'Inquire at the 
 operation department, in that car there !' I went there. 
 On the table lay maps. The Colonel of the General Staff 
 was moving his fingers over one of them and speaking 
 in a low voice to two generals: 'We have 360 battal- 
 ions, and the Japanese have only 270. Now, I ask you, 
 how did all this happen?' I felt uncomfortable, be- 
 cause it looked as though I were eavesdropping. I 
 coughed. 'What do you want ?' 'I want to know where 
 the Staff of the Corps is.' The colonel looked at me 
 humorously. 'Yes, where is the Staff of the Corps .f*' 
 And they burst out laughing and walked away." 
 
 At Tieh-ling Station there was a crowd of people. 
 They were drinking liquor and tea and having their 
 supper. Near me sat a dry official of the commissariat 
 with the shoulder-straps of a State Councillor. He told 
 his neighbor, a lieutenant-colonel of the baggage-train, 
 how they were totally unable to find any dressing ma- 
 terial, and how the stores were being destroyed. Lean- 
 ing confidentially towards his interlocutor, he added in 
 a loud whisper: 
 
 "Now each day increases our income by fifteen hun- 
 dred or two thousand rubles !" 
 
 We lay down to sleep in our barn. From the staff 
 came the order to leave next morning at daybreak for 
 
ON THE MANDARIN ROAD 299 
 
 Kai-yuan Station, some thirty-five versts to the north 
 of Tieh-ling. From the station came belated Bruk, who 
 informed us that there was a panic there; they were 
 dismantling the letter-boxes and telegraph apparatus 
 and all were on the run, because the Japanese were ap- 
 proaching Tieh-ling. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 WANDERING 
 
 At daybreak we arose and began to get ready. Every- 
 body was excited and nervous. We felt the approach- 
 ing storm from the south. Companies and battalions 
 passed by. 
 
 "Where do you come from.^" 
 
 "From the positions." 
 
 "How long have you been here.^*" 
 
 "We've just arrived." 
 
 "Are the Japanese far from here?" 
 
 "About ten versts." 
 
 The sun rose and shone through a dim haze. It was 
 warm. Cart after cart started and poured into the 
 common stream of the wagons on the road. Again 
 those who were on the highways did not admit the new 
 ones; again the knouts swished in all directions and 
 curses were heard. 
 
 Something was disintegrating more and more. The 
 bars, which it seemed had grown stronger, were disap- 
 pearing. A fat general left his carriage and shouted 
 angrily at a lieutenant. The lieutenant retorted in 
 kind. The quarrel grew more intense. A crowd of offi- 
 cers stood around. . . . 
 
 Near the station masses of drunken soldiers swarmed 
 around the cars. On the ground lay paper boxes, 
 wooden boxes, bales. Those were the cars of the Offi- 
 cers' Economic Society. The soldiers looted them in 
 plain sight of everybody. They broke open the boxes, 
 filled their pockets with sugar, carried off bottles of 
 
 300 
 
WANDERING 301 
 
 cognac and rum and packages of costly tobacco. . . . 
 
 Our baggage-train moved slowly through the narrow 
 streets of Tieh-ling. Drunken soldiers looted the Chi- 
 nese, the Armenian and the Russian shops, and the 
 shopkeepers ran about and shouted in great excitement. 
 The looting was stopped with difficulty in one place, 
 and it burst forth in another. Near the square a dying 
 Chinaman, his head split open by a sabre, was wallow- 
 ing in the gutter. The carts and batteries moved on in 
 a disorderly stream, obstructing the narrow streets. 
 Crowds of soldiers sauntered by, their rifles dangling 
 over their shoulders. The Chinamen stood near their 
 houses and looked on with their usual dispassionate ex- 
 pression. But, casting upon them a sudden glance, I 
 caught in their eyes the ghnt of a malicious, trium- 
 phant hatred, such as was in the eyes of that old man 
 at Pa-lin-pu. And just as rapidly their eyes be- 
 came dull under our glances and looked indiiFerently 
 at us. 
 
 We left the city. The broad, frozen river Liao-ho 
 cut across the road. Above the river to the left ap- 
 peared the charming fretwork railway bridge, which 
 looked as though it were constructed of cobwebs. A 
 few days later it was blown up before the advancing 
 Japanese. 
 
 The carts crossed the river over the ice. The ice 
 was already rotten, and it cracked and bent under the 
 weight of the wagons. The water came swirling 
 through the ice-holes and spread in muddy puddles. To 
 the left of us a dirty road led over the ice and came to 
 a sudden stop near a big opening, where it had given 
 way in the morning under the carts. 
 
 I was on horseback. The horse, up to its knees in 
 water, stepped cautiously over the cracking ice. It 
 was an uncomfortable thoughts — what if the battle had 
 taken place just a week later .^^ It would have been a 
 Berezina all over again. 
 
302 IN THE WAR 
 
 About a hundred steps from the river and on the 
 other side of it there rose a steep, high rampart. Ap- 
 parently it was a Chinese dam, which protected the 
 fields against the floods of the Liao-ho. The horses and 
 the men struggled almost beyond their strength to drag 
 the carts up that steep incline. And again it was a 
 strange sight: two dozen soldiers might have laid a 
 splendid, even road over this rampart in something like 
 half an hour. But nobody did so; there was no one 
 to take charge of the matter. In the Army there ex- 
 isted a whole department of "mihtary communications." 
 But where the representatives of this department were 
 now, and what they were doing, that only omnipresent 
 God knew ! We got across the dam, turned to the left, 
 and proceeded along the "column road" down the rail- 
 way track. 
 
 Over the rails, running past and ahead of us, the 
 trains which were loaded with property that had been 
 saved dashed northward. It was a strange sight: just 
 as a piece of sugar is surrounded by flies, so every car 
 was thickly peppered with fugitive soldiers. Soldiers 
 sat on the roofs of the cars, on the buffers, on the steps, 
 on the brakes, and on the tenders. 
 
 The carts moved on in the usual dense stream over 
 the broad "column road." This road had been laid 
 out in time by the Russians. But it had been laid out 
 so much in time that, by the day of retreat, a good half 
 of the bridges had rotted away and fallen to pieces. 
 The carts went past these bridges, driving straight over 
 the beds of frozen brooks. Suppose there had been 
 mud or rain ! 
 
 Constantly a few carts kept separating from the 
 stream of the wagons, and moved in the direction of the 
 Chinese villages which lay near the road. The soldiers 
 could be seen standing on the hayricks and throwing 
 bundles of kao-liang and chumiz into the carts. Chi- 
 namen were busily running all around the soldiers. A 
 
WANDERING 305 
 
 soldier would raise his clenched fist and a Chinaman 
 would fly headlong from a rick to the ground. Mean- 
 while, enormous stores of provender rose near the sta- 
 tion. Huge rows of chumiz and rice straw "bunts," each 
 weighing thirty thousand puds, followed each other in 
 continuous succession. Yellow mountains of cut grain 
 and mattings of grain bins, filled to the top with oats, 
 kao-liang and chumiz, could be seen everywhere. But 
 it was not an easy matter to procure anything from 
 them. An officer of the Rifle Division, trembling with 
 anger and shaking his clenched fists, told me the fol- 
 lowing : 
 
 "I sent to the commissariat for canned goods and 
 oats, but they did not let me have any, because a writ- 
 ten request was necessary. I wrote out the request, but 
 the men returned with empty hands, because the re- 
 quest had to be written in ink and not with pencil! I 
 beg of you, where were we to get the ink from? We 
 could thank God that we found even a stub of a pencil ! 
 So we went away without anything, and the next day 
 all the stores were consumed by fire!" 
 
 Up to the last hour the delivery of every pud of 
 oats or straw was surrounded by insuperable formali- 
 ties. When anybody pointed out the fact that all the 
 stores would have to be burned anyway, the authorities 
 angrily frowned and replied impatiently: 
 
 "What are you talking about! There can be no 
 thought of it !" 
 
 Meanwhile, the Japanese guns were roaring and the 
 intermittent rifle fire was crackling in the distance. 
 Then matters suddenly changed. Everybody could 
 take without a request as much as he wanted or could 
 carry away, and kerosene was poured over the stores, 
 which went up in smoke. 
 
 "Everywhere, everywhere this mystery, this stupid, 
 useless mystery !" a grey-haired colonel of artillery said 
 in a tired voice. "Up to the last minute they conceal 
 
304. IN THE WAR 
 
 everything from everybody, and then they send mil- 
 lions up in smoke!" 
 
 A general who passed by gave the following com- 
 mand : "The Commander-in-Chief has ordered that the 
 carts should be driven at a gallop and should not stop 
 for the night !" But, in consequence of the bad bridges 
 and the crowding, we had to travel slowly and stop 
 now and then. 
 
 We made only fourteen versts a day, and stopped for 
 the night in a Chinese village. 
 
 With us there was only a part of the baggage-train 
 which we had saved. The chief surgeon and the super- 
 visor were still absent. The chief surgeon's authority 
 had passed down to the senior orderly, Grechikhin, and 
 the supervisor's authority to his assistant, Bruk. And, 
 because of the absence of those two men, everything 
 about us became clean and comfortable. We informed 
 our detachment that we would apply the severest meas- 
 ures to those who would steal anything from the Chi- 
 nese. To avoid any such necessity, we bought kao-liang 
 straw from the Chinese for fuel, and we made arrange- 
 ments with the landlords as to how much we would pay 
 for staying overnight in their farm-houses. The surly 
 Chinese suddenly became obliging and hospitable to us. 
 An old man, with a sparse beard, shaking from old age, 
 entered the room and put on the table two big red 
 candles. 
 
 "Captain heap shango !" said the Chinamen, shaking 
 their heads and raising their index fingers in sign of 
 approval. 
 
 Our soldiers frowned and were dissatisfied. They 
 were deeply provoked because we paid the Chinese, 
 whereas we could get everything for nothing. A 
 strange soldier entered our yard and began to break 
 down the gate. I drove him off. Our soldiers looked 
 with disapproval at me. They said reservedly: 
 
 "It's all right when you are warm! Otherwise you 
 
WANDERING 805 
 
 may slap a soldier's face — ^he will carry off every- 
 thing !" 
 
 They tried to prove that the Chinese were treated as 
 they deserved: 
 
 "Our Tsar ordered them to remove themselves for 
 the distance of twenty-five versts from the railway, so 
 what are they sticking here for?" 
 
 They told how the Chinese tortured the captured 
 Russians, and how, upon abandoning their farmhouses, 
 they filled the ovens with powder, so that when the sol- 
 diers made a fire there was an explosion and all were 
 killed by the bricks. I retorted: 
 
 "Tell me, you ! If the Germans and the Turks were 
 to wage war with each other in Russia, would you act 
 differently? We have ruined them all, and have sent 
 them as beggars over the world." 
 
 "Yes, Your Honor! That is the way it should al- 
 ways be in military service !" 
 
 "No, Your Honor! Say what you please — these 
 Chinamen hate us !" 
 
 "Yes, my dear man! But why should they love us? 
 If we treated them justly, did not loot their property, 
 did not beat them, things would be different! But, as 
 it is, why should they love us ?" 
 
 "No, it's all the same! The Chinese are like any 
 other Catholics — they always hate the Orthodox peo- 
 ple and are ready to cut them to pieces !" 
 
 It grew dark and we were getting ready to go to 
 sleep. Over the yard, like a shadow, a Chinaman 
 walked silently. 
 
 "Friend, what are you doing here ? It's time for you 
 to go to bed!" 
 
 The Chinaman moved his hand in a sign of negation. 
 
 "Captain sleep-sleep. Chinaman walk around. Sol- 
 dier loot !" 
 
 In the morning we proceeded on our way, and in 
 the evening arrived at Kai-yuan. A mass of carts and 
 
S06 IN THE WAR 
 
 military units were gathered there. We stayed for the 
 night in a farmhouse, together with some Ural Cos- 
 sacks. They scolded the infantry, and told how the 
 foot-soldiers were running in wild crowds down the rail- 
 way tracks. Kuropatkin had sent the Ural Cossacks 
 to cut off their retreat, and the soldiers began to shoot 
 the Cossacks. 
 
 The Ural Cossacks would not even listen to talk of 
 the end of the war. 
 
 "How can we end the war ? This has never happened 
 before to Russia ! It would be a shame to return home, 
 and the women will jeer at us and refuse to obey us!" 
 
 Cannon boomed to the south. A new order came — to 
 proceed farther to the north, to Chan-teh-fu. On the 
 way we learned that Tieh-ling had been taken and that 
 the Japanese were continuing their pursuit. During 
 the fording of some kind of brook we fell in with an- 
 other part of our baggage-train which had escaped de- 
 struction. The chief surgeon and the supervisor were 
 here, and the two Sisters who had not been with our 
 party. 
 
 The chief surgeon told glibly of his wanderings with 
 the supervisor, and of the privations which they had 
 suffered on the way, and the two Sisters told us some 
 very strange things about them. After the fusillade to 
 which our baggage-train had been subjected, the chief 
 surgeon and the supervisor had disappeared and no one 
 had seen them since. The Sisters had travelled with 
 that part of the baggage-train where the money-box 
 was. There was no officer present, and the train was 
 in command of Corporal Smetannikov. He managed 
 matters deftly and energetically, and the Sisters re- 
 ceived from him more care than they had ever experi- 
 enced with the chief surgeon and the supervisor. They 
 arrived at Tieh-ling and bivouacked there. Suddenly 
 they learned that the chief surgeon and the supervisor 
 were in Tieh-ling, eating their supper at the railway 
 
WANDERING 307 
 
 station. The detachment was overjoyed. Smetannikov 
 galloped to the railway station; but the chief surgeon 
 did not return to the baggage-train. All he did was to 
 order Smetannikov to stand still and not move without 
 his command, even if all were in danger of being cap- 
 tured. The baggage-train stayed there for the night. 
 The cannon roared to the south and the Japanese were 
 advancing. The chief surgeon and the supervisor again 
 disappeared. 
 
 Smetannikov did not know what to do. The sol- 
 diers pressed him threateningly with questions. 
 
 "Soul-killer! Why should we stay here.'^ You see 
 that everybody is getting away ! It's all very nice for 
 the chief surgeon to talk ! They will take him into cap- 
 tivity ! But they will cut us to pieces before that !" 
 
 Just then a mounted Cossack turned up. 
 
 "Idiots ! What are you standing for.? Get away, 
 for the Japs will be here soon !" 
 
 Smetannikov took counsel with the Sisters, and de- 
 cided to move. Two days later the chief surgeon and 
 the supervisor at last joined them. The Sisters were 
 afraid that Smetannikov might have to answer for his 
 arbitrary departure, so they said to the chief sur- 
 geon : 
 
 "It is our fault that the baggage-train left Tieh- 
 ling, for we told Smetannikov to leave." 
 
 Davydov answered calmly : 
 
 "Of course, that was proper! What did you want 
 to stand for longer .f"' 
 
 Guessing at the truth, and fearing to depend upon 
 their guess, the Sisters looked cautiously about them, 
 and informed us in a whisper: 
 
 "Do you know, we have the impression that the 
 chief surgeon was anxious for the strong box to fall 
 into the hands of the Japanese!" 
 
 This smacked of such moral turpitude that we did 
 not want to believe it even of Davydov. Then I re- 
 
808 IN THE WAR 
 
 called that in the very beginning of the retreat the 
 chief surgeon had said in passing that for safety he 
 had transferred the money from the strong-box to his 
 own pocket. Oh, that carrion crow! 
 
 And there were many such carrion crows, impudent, 
 rapacious, and ravenous, that were circling over the 
 retreating, exhausted Army, and over the long-suffer- 
 ing Manchurian country! 
 
 Our baggage-train stopped. In front of us the 
 usual obstruction of the carts blocked up the way. 
 The chief surgeon was having a conversation with a 
 neat artillery lieutenant-colonel, who was in charge 
 of a park brigade. He had arrived from Russia but 
 a week before, and he was dreadfully disappointed be- 
 cause, in the opinion of everybody, the war was at 
 an end. He asked Davydov how long he had been in 
 the war, and how much he had "earned." 
 
 "You have a fine pair of horses," said the chief sur- 
 geon, who was a great lover of horseflesh. 
 
 "They are fine, aren't they?" 
 
 "Your own?" 
 
 "Yes. I bought up a couple of rejected horses at 
 forty rubles, and I turned them over to the unit and 
 there picked out this pair. They are fine." 
 
 From a nearby Chinese village artillerymen walked 
 up to the carts, carrying on their shoulders sheaves 
 of chumiz straw. Two excited Chinamen came gal- 
 loping up. One of them, an interpreter, with a deli- 
 cate, intelligent face, spoke in pure Russian to the lieu- 
 tenant-colonel : 
 
 "Just look ! Your soldiers are carrying off the straw 
 from the Chinese!" 
 
 The lieutenant-colonel turned away. 
 
 "It is not only my soldiers who are doing it." 
 
 He touched his horse with his spurs. The interpreter 
 bit his lip and looked after him. 
 
 "The patience of the Chinese will soon give wa^ 
 
WANDERING 309 
 
 and they will begin to shoot at you!" he shouted an- 
 grily, and slowly drove away. 
 
 The matter was both painful and ridiculous. Where 
 was the limit at which the Chinese patience would at 
 last give wsij? 
 
 We stopped at Chan-teh-fu for two days. We heard 
 the news that Kuropatkin had been deposed and re- 
 called to St. Petersburg. In the evening our hospitals 
 received an order from the Chief of the Sanitary Unit 
 of the Third Army, General Chetyrkin. Our hospital 
 was commanded to go north, to stop at siding No. 86, 
 to pitch a tent there, and to stay there until March 8 ; 
 and then, at twelve o'clock noon (how precise!), with- 
 out awaiting any further order, to go to Kung-chu- 
 ling. 
 
 But during our retreat we had lost half of our train, 
 and were unable to function as a hospital, which fact, 
 of course, we had reported to the general at the proper 
 time. However, the command had to be carried out. 
 
 We started. Again endless lines of carts and re- 
 treating units extended northward on both sides of 
 the railway tracks. We were told that the Japanese 
 had already taken Kai-yuan, and that the siding be- 
 yond Kai-yuan had already been fired. Again trains 
 rushed past us, and again all the cars were thickly 
 peppered with fugitive soldiers. We were informed 
 that at Kung-chu-ling they had stopped more than 
 forty thousand fugitives, that fifty soldiers had been 
 turned over to be court-martiaUed, and that men were 
 being shot without mercy. 
 
 About four o'clock in the morning we arrived at 
 the siding. A complete wilderness — ^not a single ham- 
 let, not a brook, no trees nearby; only one small well 
 in which there was enough water for ten horses, and 
 no more. The chief surgeon wired Chetyrkin that 
 there was neither wood nor provender nor water at 
 
310 IN THE WAR 
 
 the siding, and that the hospital could not function 
 there, and he asked his permission to take up a posi- 
 tion somewhere else. 
 
 We stayed there for the night. The telegram was 
 not answered, but now, with the cement all worked 
 out, things were done easily and simply. We broke 
 camp without permission, and proceeded to Si-ping-kai. 
 
 Si-ping-kai swarmed with troops and institutions. 
 At the station stood the luxurious train of the new 
 Commander-in-Chief, Linevich. The plate windows of 
 the train glistened, and in the car containing the 
 kitchen cooks were busily at work. The officers of the 
 staff walked about on the platform, neat, well-dressed 
 and well-fed; and they furnished a strange sight 
 among the emaciated, dust-covered officers and sol- 
 diers that kept marching by. Malice and hostility 
 were engendered. 
 
 Ominous, disturbing rumors kept coming up and 
 spreading abroad: the Japanese were already within 
 twenty versts of Si-ping-kai; Nogi, with an army of 
 sixty thousand men, was advancing from the rear to 
 Kirin; the Japanese had captured part of Kuropat- 
 kin's baggage-train, and the plans of the defence of 
 Vladivostok had fallen into their hands. The common 
 impression was that it was quite unthinkable to con- 
 tinue the war, and that the troops were utterly de- 
 moralized. On everybody's lips was the one word — 
 "Sedan." At the same time we were informed that 
 they had decided at St. Petersburg to continue the 
 war at all costs, and that, "to raise the spirit of the 
 Army," Prince Nikolay Nikolaevich had been chosen 
 as Commander-in-Chief. A painful sensation was cre- 
 ated at the thought — How can men be so utterly blind ? 
 
 Everything about us gave the impression of unlim- 
 ited, universal confusion and insuperable disorder. I 
 met a friend of mine who was an officer at the Staff 
 of our army. He told me that it was rumored that 
 
WANDERING 811 
 
 a Japanese column was marching parallel with our 
 troops, about fifteen versts from the railway. 
 
 "But this can be definitely determined by scouts," 
 I replied, in perplexity. 
 
 "You can't imagine" what is now taking place at 
 the Staff! It is a fairy-tale that an uninitiated man 
 would not believe t One would think that never has 
 time been hotter than now, and that the Staffs must 
 be working day and night! Yet they are sitting with 
 folded arms ! I have discovered some work for myself, 
 in order that I may not see what is taking place all 
 about me! They have all but one absorbing interest, 
 and that is, rewards ! They talk of nothing else but 
 rewards !" 
 
 Many anecdotes were told about the Japanese being 
 so well informed. A captive Japanese officer was 
 brought to our general. Just then the general was com- 
 manding his orderly : 
 
 "Ride at once to the commander of the N. Regi- 
 ment and tell him so-and-so." 
 
 "Your Excellency, where is the regiment stationed.'^" 
 
 "Where.? What do you call that village?" 
 
 The general tried hard to think of the name, and 
 helplessly snap;^ed his fingers. The Japanese obligingly 
 came to his aid: 
 
 "Your Excellency, the N. Regiment is stationed 
 at the village of Z." 
 
 Another anecdote: 
 
 A Cossack brought to the Staff a man in the uni- 
 form of a Russian officer, and reported that he had 
 caught a disguised Japanese spy. 
 
 "But this is a Russian officer!" 
 
 "No, sir! A Japanese!" 
 
 "He is a Russian ! You are talking nonsense !" 
 
 '*A Japanese! I am sure! In the first place, he 
 talks excellent Russian; in the second, he knows the 
 disposition of our armies admirably." 
 
S12 IN THE WAR 
 
 We stopped at Sl-plng-kai for several days, and on 
 March 8, at noon, executing the command of General 
 Chetyrkin, we started for Kung-chu-ling. Now the 
 roads were broad and empty; the majority of the 
 carts had left for the north. There were rumors that 
 bands of Hung-hu-tziis were roaming about and at- 
 tacking the units that were moving separately. In 
 the evening, when we were walking in the darkness 
 over the mountains, the dry, last-year's grass began 
 to burn mysteriously on the slopes of the craters and 
 long ribbons of fire crept past us, while all around 
 us was quiet and calm. It was said that the Chinese 
 were in this way indicating to the Japanese the roads 
 over which the Russians were retreating. We were 
 disquieted and felt nervous. 
 
 Here and there, in the villages along the road, 
 guards consisting of one or two companies were sta- 
 tioned for protection. One morning we passed through 
 such a village and then descended into the valley. Over 
 the slope of a ravine five or six black Chinese pigs 
 dashed at breakneck speed, and after them, stretching 
 out far over the plain, ran soldiers with rifles in their 
 hands. Now and then a soldier squatted, did some- 
 thing which we could not make out, and ran on. Our 
 detachment followed what was taking place with eager 
 and sympathetic interest. 
 
 "Bully! He got her! She has turned a somerset!" 
 
 "No, he has missed her ! He has only wounded her ! 
 She is off again!" 
 
 "Off! Not a bit of it! He is finishing her with 
 the bayonet!" 
 
 The soldiers were shooting at the pigs. The wind 
 was blowing away from us, and we could not hear the 
 shots. All we could see was the feeble flashes from 
 the barrels of the rifles. 
 
 Four soldiers were running to cut off the flight of 
 the pigs. One of them squatted and fired — ^he missed 
 
WANDERING 313 
 
 her. The bullet, whining, passed over our heads. Like 
 little children, the soldiers forgot everything and were 
 all absorbed in the hunt. The fires from the rifles 
 flashed, the bullets whistled. 
 
 Our eyes could not believe it: this was taking place 
 within two steps of the Japanese at the time when a 
 false alarm of battle might lead to endless calamities ! 
 
 From behind a hill there appeared three cautious 
 heads of Cossacks with their pikes. The soldiers were 
 triumphantly dragging the pigs to the village. 
 
 Relieved by the absence of an expected danger, the 
 Cossacks galloped at a lively pace up to the soldiers 
 and began to scold them. The excited chief surgeon 
 shouted : 
 
 "Oh, there, Cossacks! Arrest them! Bring them 
 here 1" 
 
 The Cossacks brought up two frightened soldiers, 
 with faces as white as chalk. One was a young, beard- 
 less fellow; the other had a black beard, and was 
 about thirty years old. The Cossacks told as follows : 
 
 "Our hundred was proceeding along the road, when 
 suddenly we heard some firing, and bullets whizzed over 
 our heads. The commander sent us out on scouting 
 duty, and it was these rascals !" 
 
 "Unscrew the bayonets !" the chief surgeon com- 
 manded. "Let me see if their rifles are loaded! Oh, 
 
 you sons-of-b ! Have them court-martialled at 
 
 once ! Follow after us !" 
 
 The Cossacks galloped away to join their hundred. 
 We moved on, accompanied by the prisoners. They 
 walked along, slowly rolling their wide-open eyes, and 
 pale from the sudden danger that had descended upon 
 them. Our soldiers spoke to them sympathetically. 
 
 On the bank of a river, at the bottom of a slope, 
 lay with drooping head an ox which had strayed from 
 the herd. The chief surgeon's eyes were burning. He 
 stopped the baggage-train, walked down to the river, 
 
S14. IN THE WAR 
 
 and commanded the soldiers to slaughter the ox and to 
 carry off the meat. This was a hundred rubles of 
 profit for him! The soldiers grumbled and said: 
 
 "Maybe he is diseased. We won't eat the meat, 
 anyway !" 
 
 The chief surgeon pretended that he did not hear 
 the grumbling, stuck his finger into the bloody lights, 
 and said: 
 
 ''Oh, he's all right! It would be a shame to throw 
 away so much meat on the road I" 
 
 The prisoners were not placed under guard. They 
 made use of the distraction and disappeared. 
 
 We arrived at Kung-chu-ling. This, too, was all 
 filled with troops. Assistant-supervisor Bruk had been 
 stationed there for five days with a part of the bag- 
 gage-train. The chief surgeon had sent him there 
 with the superfluous property from the siding to which 
 we had been ordered by General Chetyrkin. Bruk 
 said that he had upon arriving turned to the local com- 
 missariat with the request for oats. The horses had 
 been eating nothing but straw for a week. At the 
 commissariat he was asked: 
 
 ''Where does your hospital come from.?" 
 
 "From Mukden." 
 
 "Oh, from Mukden ! No oats for you : we give noth- 
 ing to fugitives!" 
 
 And they didn't give him any. Here there was a 
 idisplay of that amazing "patriotism" that in this war 
 distinguished the Rear, which hadn't smelt powder once* 
 During the whole time up to the declaration of peace 
 this Rear burned with military courage from its safe 
 distance, heaped contempt on the Army that was drain- 
 ing its blood, and called men to "Russia's honor and 
 glory." 
 
 It must be said that there were heroism, daring, and 
 self-sacrifice there behind us; but here one was struck 
 by the human cowardice, shamelessness, and moral filth 
 
66 
 
 «1 
 
 WANDERING ai5 
 
 — all that dark ooze which, in the beginning, the gigan^ 
 tic wave of the retreating Army cast forth. 
 
 At the buffet I met some kind of officer from one 
 of our regiments. The commander of his company 
 had been killed in the very beginning of the battle, and 
 the command had passed over to him. 
 
 "How do you happen to be here?'^ 
 
 He answered cheerfully: 
 
 '*I just got sick. Rheumatism in my legs. I ap- 
 plied to the hospital, but they wouldn't take me." 
 
 "How long have you been here.?" 
 
 "About ten days." 
 
 "Who is in charge of your company.?" 
 
 *'We have a supernumerary lieutenant there." 
 
 'And what are you doing here.?" 
 
 'I am waiting for our regiment." 
 
 He was waiting for it! And he himself, jolly, care- 
 free, vivacious, did not even understand the disgrace- 
 fulness of his action! 
 
 Fugitive soldiers continued to make their escape 
 on the trains which were travelling north. Special 
 officers had been despatched to catch them. Such an 
 officer would be sitting in a heated freight-car where 
 it was dark, while the moon shone brightly outside. 
 There would be outlined the figure of a soldier with 
 his rifle, trying to climb into the car. 
 
 "Oh, Long-beard! Where are you going?" 
 
 "Don't mind, countryman! I am alone!" 
 
 ^'Where are you going to.?" 
 
 "I'm looking for my regiment." 
 
 "So you are going to Harbin to look for your regi- 
 ment, eh?" 
 
 And the soldier would be arrested. 
 
 A surgeon in charge of a disinfection train, a friend 
 of mine, told me the following : during the retreat from 
 Mukden an empty heated freight-car was filled with 
 wounded officers. The train arrived at Kuan-cheng- 
 
316 IN THE WAR 
 
 tzii. Suddenly many of the wounded discarded their 
 bandages, climbed out of the car, and calmly scat- 
 tered in all directions. The bandages had been placed 
 on uninjured limbs. A lieutenant-colonel with a heav- 
 ily bandaged eye informed the doctor that he had been 
 wounded by a projectile in the cornea. The doctor 
 took off the bandage, expecting to see a horrible wound ; 
 but the eye was perfectly well. 
 
 "Where is your injury?" 
 
 "I have no wound, you know. What do you call it.'' 
 A projectile flew close by! A contusion! I have re- 
 ceived a contusion in the cornea !" 
 
 The Chief Inspector of Hospitals, Ezerski, of whom 
 I have already told many a story, could now develop 
 his activity in full. The ex-chief of police now found 
 his milieu. He galloped from station to station, and 
 from train to train, and arranged formal raids and 
 domiciliary searches. They told that he had found 
 in a train two officers who had concealed themselves 
 from him under an empty kettle on an open car. But 
 General Ezerski did not confine himself to the arrest 
 of fugitives in freight and passenger cars. He did 
 the same in the sanitary trains. He verified and 
 changed the diagnoses of the surgeons, and put out 
 the sick, whom he declared to be well. Apparently his 
 activity ultimately attracted attention; he was trans- 
 ferred somewhere to the Rear, I think to Vladivostok. 
 
 The advance of the Japanese came to a stop. Slowly 
 everything began to assume orderly shape. The con- 
 nections between the units were re-established. 
 
 There were rumors that our scouting-parties were 
 unable to find Japanese anywhere. They had some- 
 how disappeared without a trace. It was said that 
 they were marching by detours on each side of the 
 railway as far as the station Vand-zia-tun, and from 
 the east, while another was approaching Bodune from 
 the west. 
 
WANDERING 317 
 
 Late in the evening of March 14, our two mov- 
 able hospitals and six others received a new order 
 from General Chetyrkin, to leave next day at 
 noon and proceed to the village of Li-dia-tun. 
 To the order were attached descriptions of the coun- 
 try with indications of the chief villages along the 
 road. It was necessary to proceed thirty versts to 
 the north along the railway as far as the station 
 Fand-zia-tun, and from there twenty versts to the 
 west. 
 
 All our military units were stationed here at Kung- 
 chu-ling, so what was the use of going there? But 
 it wasn't our business to reason. We proceeded. 
 
 The weather changed. It was misty, cold, and 
 windy. In the evening it began to drizzle, and at night- 
 fall a wet snow fell. We stopped for the night near 
 a siding, in a small fortified village of frontiersmen, 
 and in the morning we moved on. According to the 
 plan with which we had been furnished, we were to 
 turn to the left, and the Fand-zia-tun Station could 
 be seen in the distance. We asked some Chinese who 
 passed by where the village of Li-dia-tun was. They 
 all pointed unanimously to the east of the railway, 
 whereas our plan ordered us to go to the west. Then 
 we began to inquire about the road villages which were 
 given in our plan, Dava and Hunshimioz. The China- 
 men pointed them out to the west. 
 
 The chief surgeon hired a Chinese guide, but, on 
 account of his haggling spirit, he did not make any ar- 
 rangement about the price, and simply said, "I pay 
 you money." The Chinaman guided us. The snow 
 kept falling, and it was cold and wet. We moved ahead 
 slowly. Towards evening we stopped in a large vil- 
 lage about seven versts from the railway. There was 
 not even a sign of the presence of Russian troops 
 around us — ^not a soldier, not a Cossack. Nothing but 
 Chinese. Other hospitals which had been despatched 
 
318 IN THE WAR 
 
 together with ours passed by. Everybody was in per- 
 plexity, everybody cursed Chetyrkin. 
 
 "To what place is he sending us? Somewhere into 
 the depths of China ! And all by ourselves ! What are 
 we going to do there?" 
 
 "I suppose he put his finger on the map, hit or miss : 
 take my hospitals there and there ! Then the superiors 
 will see that he is not sitting without work, that he is 
 busy and doing something!" 
 
 We stayed for the night in a large, well-to-do farm- 
 house of an old Chinaman with a serious, intelligent 
 face. The chief surgeon patted the landlord soothingly 
 on the shoulder, as he was wont to do at all stops, and 
 told him not to worry, because he would be paid for 
 everything. 
 
 The snow still fell, fine, slow snow, without any wind. 
 By morning about five inches had fallen, and every- 
 thing had a wintry appearance. The chief surgeon 
 decided to stay here for the day, in order to give the 
 horses a chance to get rested. It was lonesome and 
 dreary. The soldiers carried away from the barns any- 
 thing that fell into their hands. The old landlord, with 
 a long pipe in his mouth, walked quietly up and down 
 the yard, without protesting, merely examining his 
 barns after the soldiers had left. One felt ashamed, 
 looking at his serious, pensive face, with the imprint 
 of a peculiar, aristocratic elegance. 
 
 In the morning we got ready to leave. The chief 
 surgeon was surrounded by the Chinamen from whom 
 he had taken provender and wood, and in whose farm- 
 houses the rank and file had slept. The chief surgeon, 
 as though busy with some matters, told them all in an 
 impatient voice : 
 
 "Just wait! Later!" 
 
 The baggage-train was ready, and a mount was 
 brought to the chief surgeon. 
 
 "You'll get it all right," the chief surgeon said has- 
 
WANDERING S19 
 
 tily, handing out money to the Chinese that surrounded 
 him. To one he gave half a ruble, to another a ruble. 
 To our landlord he gave five rubles. 
 
 The Chinamen became excited, and through our in- 
 terpreter and guide began to figure out how much 
 wood and kao-liang straw our soldiers had used up, 
 and how much chumiz they had taken for the horses. 
 Our landlord did not say a word. He only held the 
 five ruble note in his hand and sadly looked at Davydov 
 as though ashamed for him. 
 
 "That's all you'll get, you scoundrel!" the chief 
 surgeon said, angrily. 
 
 "Of course they are thieves ! They do nothing but 
 lie!" the soldiers sustained, looking with hostility at 
 the Chinamen. 
 
 "They ought to be satisfied with anything I have 
 given themf And they think it's too little!" Davydov 
 said, in provocation. 
 
 We indignantly protested: 
 
 "Why, then, don't you agree about the price in ad- 
 vance? If kao-liang and chumiz are wanted, buy the 
 stuff and pay for it! You simply take without pur- 
 chasing, and do not even control the amount the sol- 
 diers may take!" 
 
 "These rascals would gladly flay you alive!" 
 
 "I don't know about that ! When we travelled with- 
 out you we always got along excellently with the Chi- 
 nese, and there never were any misunderstandings !" 
 
 "Enough! Away!" Davydov shouted at the China- 
 men, and mounted his horse. "We are off! Friend, 
 lead us on!" he said, turning to the guide. 
 
 The guide looked at him with indignant eyes. 
 
 "Me not want !" he said. 
 
 The chief surgeon felt abashed. 
 
 "I'll give you two rubles !" he said, raising two fin- 
 gers. 
 
 The guide shook his head and walked away. 
 
SW IN THE WAR 
 
 We proceeded without a guide. In the next village 
 Davjdov hired another Chinaman to take us to Li-dia- 
 tun. 
 
 The new guide was a stalwart fellow with bold, 
 smiling ejes and with his thick queue wound about his 
 head. He walked ahead of the train, leaning on a 
 long staiF, stepping over the snow with his Chinese 
 boots, with their characteristic straps in the back. 
 It was cold, and the snow glistened in the sun. The 
 roads were bad and little travelled over. Away be- 
 hind us was the railway, from which the whistling of 
 the locomotives and the rumbling of the trains could 
 barely be heard. Then even these sounds disappeared 
 in the snowy quiet. 
 
 We walked and walked. Nowhere was there a Rus- 
 sian face. There were hardly any villages, only sep- 
 arate hamlets of from three to four farmhouses, close 
 to each other. The Chinese at the gates watched us 
 curiously, and, as usual, with silent, dispassionate 
 glances. 
 
 The sun was shining, the snow was sparkling. The 
 soldiers instinctively pressed closer to the carts. The 
 guide, in his three-cornered fur cap, marched silently 
 ahead of the baggage-train, leaning on his long staff, 
 and laughing at something with his bold, bulging eyes. 
 
 "Your Honor, what is this — is a Chinese Susanin ^ 
 guiding us?" the master-at-arms asked me. 
 
 It looked very much like it. 
 
 At last we reached the village Hun-shimi-oz. Here 
 we learned definitely that no such village as Li-dia-tun 
 existed in the country around, and that there were only 
 villages Li-diu and Li-dia-f an. In the distance we could 
 see the camps of the hospitals that had arrived before 
 us. They had taken up their positions in the large 
 village Li-dia-fan. All the farmhouses were occupied, 
 
 ^A Russian guide who led the attacking Polish army into 
 an ambush, and thus saved Emperor Michael. 
 
WANDERING 321 
 
 and not one was left for us. Here again everybody 
 had the sensation of blundering and neglect. One of 
 the hospitals had remained the night before in a vil- 
 lage where, according to the statement of the Chinese, 
 a large division of well-armed Hung-hu-tziis had 
 stayed the previous night. 
 
 Our hospital stopped in a small hamlet about two 
 versts from Li-dia-fan. 
 
 The Chinese hurriedly carried off on their shoulder 
 yokes baskets and bags filled with their property. Our 
 landlords conversed with us amiably, and smiled good- 
 naturedly, but at the same time talked with conoern 
 and haste among themselves, watching the stacks of 
 kao-liang as they were being carried off by the sol- 
 diers. The supervisor always had permitted the loot- 
 ing with indifference and unconcern. But this time he 
 suddenly made an attack upon the soldiers and an- 
 grily proclaimed that if any one would take as much 
 as a stick from the Chinese without his permission he 
 would immediately have him court-martialled. 
 
 Now that danger was in the air the supervisor 
 changed all of a sudden. He became modest and 
 pensive, suddenly began to think of his rights, and 
 started to buy provender and provisions without refer- 
 ence to the chief surgeon, paying for everything in 
 cash. The chief surgeon frowned and quarrelled with 
 him, but the supervisor was now firm and decided. 
 The Chinese found in him a warm protector. He sternly 
 watched his detachment and allowed no looting. It was 
 only necessary for a little danger to loom up, for a 
 little chance of resistance — and suddenly it became 
 very easy to arrange matters with the Chinese, and 
 not worst them J 
 
 We stayed there a day, and yet another day. A 
 new order came from Chetyrkin, addressed to the chief 
 surgeon of one of the hospitals. This was that all 
 
322 IN THE WAR 
 
 the hospitals were to pitch camp, that such-and-such a 
 hospital was to receive the severely wounded, such-and- 
 such the contagious patients, and so forth. Our hos- 
 pital was ordered to care for the "slightly indisposed 
 and the lightly wounded until their recovery." Every- 
 body roared. Of course, not a single hospital pitched 
 camp, because there were no patients to receive. 
 
 The snow melted by degrees, and a cold, dirty-white 
 slush ensued. The nights were pitch dark. A patrol 
 walked around the hamlet, and sentinels stood in the 
 yard near the gates. But it was impossible to see 
 two paces ahead, and the Hung-hu-tziis could easily 
 get up to the very hamlet without a shot being fired. 
 Now the Hung-hu-tziis were armed with Japanese 
 rifles, had been regularly drilled, and made attacks 
 in accordance with all the tactical rules. 
 
 Late one evening, after we had retired, the regular 
 clatter of a galloping horse could be heard along the 
 road, and later in the yard of our farmhouse. A pale 
 soldier, a stranger to us, entered and handed the su- 
 pervisor a note. It was from the supervisor of the 
 adjoining hospital. 
 
 "According to rumors which have reached us, a large 
 party of Hung-hu-tziis is preparing to attack our hos- 
 pitals in the night, of which fact I herewith inform you." 
 
 Everybody was suddenly filled with anxiety. The 
 supervisor grew pale, and sent the servant for the 
 sergeant-major. 
 
 "I believe you have a company for defence?" he 
 asked the soldier who had brought the note. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 The supervisor sent by him a note in which he asked, 
 in view of our lonely situation, to have a squad from 
 the company of defence sent to him for protection. 
 
 We had in all eighty-five bayonets, counting the 
 grooms, orderlies, and cooks. Forty soldiers sur- 
 rounded our hamlet on all sides, and the others were 
 
WANDERING 323 
 
 commanded to sleep in their clothes with loaded rifles 
 by their sides. In the yard it was as dark as in a cel- 
 lar. The surgeons' assistants and we surgeons exam- 
 ined our revolvers. 
 
 "There is no sense being afraid of the Chinamen! 
 They are not Japs !" the soldiers said, contemptuously. 
 *'I'll manage two dozen of them by myself!" 
 
 "And there isn't a single Chinaman left to-day in 
 the whole hamlet! Apparently they have been cau- 
 tioned and have left. And yesterday they filled the 
 farmhouses completely !" 
 
 "No, they are all here! They are sleeping on the 
 straw in the yard!" 
 
 In reality, all the Chinese had disappeared. 
 
 "The scoundrels !" the soldiers said, in disgust and 
 amazement. "We might have guessed it from the 
 start ! They looked at us like so many wolves ! Take 
 that lame landlord of ours, for example: yesterday 
 we swiped some potatoes from his bin, and he nearly 
 devoured us with his eyes ! We ought to kill the whole 
 lot of them!" 
 
 An hour passed, and another. They did not send 
 any protection. The supervisor, covered with all kinds 
 of weapons over his cloak, was sitting and listening 
 intently. The rest were dozing. How stupid, how 
 stupid all this was ! Here we were sitting, without 
 any aim, without any purpose. Maybe we should soon 
 have to fight to our last breath, in order not to get 
 alive into the hands of men whom we had maddened 
 by our treatment. And what was this all for? 
 
 On the table lay a book, Buch der Lieder, Grechi- 
 khin, who was studying German, had been reading it. 
 I opened the book. 
 
 Am Ganges duftet's and leuchtet's, 
 Und Riesenbaume bliihn, 
 Und schone, stille Menschen 
 Vor Lotosblumen knien. 
 
324 IN THE WAR 
 
 Old, familiar, beautiful sounds. Something signifi- 
 cant, pure, and bright expanded before the soul. And 
 how amazingly distant all this was from the surround- 
 ing darkness and mire, and the nearness of needless 
 bloodshed ! 
 
 There was no attack on that night. It is very likely 
 that the Chinese had informed the Hung-hu-tziis that 
 we had been warned, and were prepared for the attack. 
 
 Next morning we decided to transfer ourselves to 
 the village where the other hospitals were stationed, 
 so that we might be all together. The chief surgeon 
 drove to the treasury at Kuan-cheng-tzii Station and 
 wrote a letter to the senior chief surgeon. In his 
 letter he asked him to crowd himself a little and give 
 room in the village for our hospital, since, according 
 to the order of the Chief of the Sanitary Unit of the 
 Third Army, we were supposed to be stationed in that 
 village. Shantser and I rode off with the letter. 
 
 We were received by a tall, wizened old man, with 
 a greyish beard, wearing the shoulder-straps of a Coun- 
 cillor of State. He scanned Davydov's letter slowly 
 and methodically, once, twice, three times. 
 
 "Here it says, 'according to the order.' What or- 
 der .?" he asked. 
 
 "What order? Why, the order that was sent to 
 us bore your signature!" 
 
 "Oh, that order ! But there is no room here ! Every- 
 thing is occupied here ! Aren't you comfortable there.''" 
 
 We explained to him that we were located there all 
 by ourselves, and, in case of an attack of the Hung- 
 hu-tziis, would be utterly helpless. 
 
 "You are afraid of the Hung-hu-tziis.'"' the old man 
 asked, with a smile. "But you have a detachment that 
 is armed with rifles !" 
 
 "You have in your village seven detachments and 
 a whole company of defence, and yet you did not fur- 
 nish us with even a squad for last night!" 
 
WANDERING 325 
 
 "Hem!" The old man grew silent, as though he had 
 not heard our retort. 
 
 ^ "Your men have spread themselves over a great ter- 
 ritory here," Shantser continued. "In your hospital, 
 for example, a separate large farmhouse has been set 
 aside for the office, a separate one for the drug-store. 
 That is too much of a luxury!" 
 
 The old man glanced pensively at the letter, then 
 he looked at our shoulder-straps. 
 
 "You are junior surgeons!" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, in any case, I consider it quite impossible 
 to settle this question with you people! I shall send 
 a letter to your chief surgeon to-day, in which I shall 
 ask him to call on me to-morrow at nine o'clock in 
 the morning, when we shall take the matter into con- 
 sideration. That is the best I can do for you!" 
 
 We drank tea with the junior surgeons of his hos- 
 pital. With them matters stood as almost every- 
 where — the junior surgeons spoke with contemptuous 
 disgust of their chief surgeon, and stood in a cold, 
 official relation to him. He had at one time been the 
 chief surgeon of a regiment, then he had long served 
 as the secretary in connection with a large military 
 hospital ; and from there he found his way to the war 
 as chief surgeon. He had long forgotten all about 
 medicine, and was existing only by means of official 
 documents. The surgeons laughed aloud when they 
 heard that Shantser had considered it superfluous to 
 maintain a separate large building for the office. 
 
 "But that's where the soul of the whole hospital 
 is!^ Surgeons, drug-store, sick-rooms — all these are 
 unimportant appendices to the office! An unlucky 
 scribe is working there for twenty hours a day — ^he 
 writes and writes! We live in farmhouses adjoining 
 that of the chief surgeon, and we meet him a dozen 
 times a day ! Yet we receive from him each day docu- 
 
S26 IN THE WAR 
 
 ments with 'orders!' You ought to look at his hos- 
 pital orders — they are whole folios in size!" 
 
 The old man, it turned out, was awfully frightened 
 when he heard of the imminent attack of the Hung-hu- 
 tziis, and wouldn't think of sending us even a single 
 soldier for protection ! 
 
 The surgeons went with us to visit another hospital. 
 There the chief surgeon appeared to be a real man. 
 But his own hospital was located in very crowded quar- 
 ters, because the "Councillor of State" had taken pos- 
 session of all the buildings! It so happened that the 
 Councillor of State just then entered. 
 
 "Have you heard it.'' They are afraid of Hung-hu- 
 tziis," he said, with a smile. 
 
 "That is natural! What sense is there in remain- 
 ing there?" answered the chief surgeon whom we were 
 visiting. "They have driven us five miles from hell, 
 and so we all ought to keep together!" 
 
 "What an amazing arrangement this of Chetyrkin 
 is!" Shantser said, laughing. "What sense was there 
 in sending us here.''" 
 
 "It is not for us to pass judgment," the old man 
 said, dryly and sternly. "It may be that you would 
 have made worse arrangements still!" 
 
 "No, that would be hard to do !" one of his surgeons 
 replied, with a smile. 
 
 The conversation turned on the Mukden defeat, and 
 on the outlook for peace. 
 
 "When will all this dirty business come to an end.'"' 
 somebody said, with a sigh. 
 
 The old man opened his eyes widely in perplexity. 
 
 "What dirty business.? What are you talking 
 about.?" 
 
 Next day we moved to their village, and two days 
 later there arrived a new order of Chetyrkin for all 
 of us to break camp and proceed to the city of Mai- 
 mai-kai, about ninety versts to the south. The 
 
WANDERING 3«7 
 
 itinerary was laid out with the usual precision: the 
 first day to stop there and there, after a march of 
 18 versts ; the next day to stop there and there, after 
 having made 35 versts ; and so forth. On the evening 
 of March 25 we were to be in Mai-mai-kai. All this 
 was arranged without the slightest knowledge of the 
 quality of the road, as we soon found out, and so we 
 marched without reference to the given itinerary. 
 
 From the officers who brought the order we learned 
 a pleasant bit of news, namely, that our corps was 
 being transferred from the Third Army to the Second. 
 That meant that we were leaving the solicitous care 
 of General Chetyrkin. 
 
 In the morning we began the march. 
 
 The snow had melted. The roads were still muddy, 
 but had begun to dry out. In the fields could be 
 seen Chinese at work. They were digging up the kao- 
 liang roots with their mattocks and depositing piles 
 of manure on the fields. The further south we pro- 
 ceeded the more the Russian spirit became apparent. 
 On the road we more and more frequently met two- 
 wheeled carts loaded with Chinese movables and with 
 Chinese women and children, all of them hurrying 
 north. 
 
 We also came across destroyed farmhouses, from 
 which the roofs had been removed for fuel. There was 
 an increasing number of them. In place of hamlets 
 there were heaps of clay, straw, and remnants of walls. 
 The habitable farmhouses were crowded with Russian 
 soldiers. The Chinese became more and more scarce. 
 Again there dashed over the fields packs of homeless, 
 frightened dogs. The trees fell under the strokes of 
 Russian axes. 
 
 Old familiar pictures! We were entering the na- 
 tive atmosphere. The supervisor again became glib 
 of tongue and self-confident; the chief surgeon again 
 
S28 IN THE WAR 
 
 arbitrarily cleaned out the Chinese at the lodgings, 
 paid them in half rubles and rubles, and called them 
 thieves. 
 
 After three days we arrived in Mai-mai-kai. The 
 town was overcrowded with troops and fugitive peas- 
 ants. It was awful to enter a farmhouse which was 
 occupied by the Chinese. It swarmed with heaps of 
 men, just as a decaying piece of flesh swarms with 
 maggots. In the stench and dirt squirmed men, women, 
 and children, healthy and sick alike. 
 
 At the Staff and at the lazaretto they talked of 
 the possibility of a retreat in the near future. They 
 said that no Japanese could be found for eighty versts 
 ahead of us, and that they were making a wide de- 
 tour to the north. They said that the Japanese had 
 sent us an invitation to go to their Harbin for Easter 
 confession. We recalled how they had but a short 
 time ago invited us to Mukden for Shrove-tide dum- 
 plings. It was resolved to abandon the Si-ping-kai 
 positions, we were told, and to retreat beyond Sungari 
 to Harbin. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 
 
 We were stationed some versts to the north of Mai- 
 mai-kai, near the Mandarin Road. 
 
 In the morning a strong wind was blowing. Towards 
 night it subsided and the sky was ruddy with the eve- 
 ning glow. Not far from our station a crowd of 
 artillerymen was gathered near a well. I walked up 
 to them. On the ground, stretching out her head, 
 a horse lay motionless, slowly opening and closing her 
 eyes. Nearby stood a second-captain of artillery. 
 We saluted each other. 
 
 **Is the horse sick?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes. She could barely walk all the time. We just 
 gave her some water to drink, and she fell down, and 
 cannot rise. Her back is as though it were broken. 
 It is all the result of February 25," added the cap- 
 tain, lowering his voice so that the soldiers might not 
 hear. "A mass of horses broke down during the re- 
 treat, and now they are dying like flies." 
 
 "Are you stationed near here.''" 
 
 "Yes, we have stopped over there in the hamlet for 
 the night. We shall move again in the morning." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "Where? To the north, of course," the captain an- 
 swered, with a smile. 
 
 "What do you hear about the Japanese?" 
 
 **They say they are near Kirin." I walked away 
 from the well with him. "Have you heard? There 
 have been conversations about peace since March 18." 
 
 329 
 
330 IN THE WAR 
 
 "You don't say!" 
 
 "Our Army Staff has received to-day the informa- 
 tion that the Emperor has summoned the Zemski Sobor 
 and has informed them that the war has been unsuccess- 
 ful for us, and that it was necessary to make peace." 
 
 Upon arriving home, I told our men about it. There 
 were no soldiers of the rank and file in the farmhouse, 
 but five minutes later the soldiers were talking with 
 animation in all the yards, in all the farmhouses, and 
 joyous inquiries and laughter were heard. Every- 
 where there sounded the proclamation: 
 
 "The eighteenth of March! The eighteenth of 
 March !" 
 
 In the calm heavens, above the glow, shone the nar- 
 row crescent of the new moon. There was a bright 
 and happy feeling in one's soul, one felt like talking, 
 like telling every passer-by that the bloody madness 
 had come to an end, one felt like believing it and as- 
 suring others of it. And everywhere you heard: 
 
 "The eighteenth of March! The eighteenth of 
 March!" 
 
 Two soldiers approached me. 
 
 'Your Honor, is it true that there will be peace.'"' 
 'That's what they say." 
 
 "Tell us, will we have to pay him?^' 
 
 "Very likely." 
 
 They fell to musing, and looked disappointed. 
 'If so, it would be better to continue fighting." 
 
 66^ 
 
 «1 
 
 An incredible, unheard-of defeat had just fallen upon 
 our Army, and everywhere they were talking of only 
 one thing, of rewards! The staffs swarmed with end- 
 less recommendations for rewards, and the rewards 
 began to pour forth as if from a horn of plenty. 
 
 One could observe the same thing as after the Sha-ho 
 Engagement, after the Liao-yang Battle, after all the 
 previous battles. Almost every day the Army Or- 
 
IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 331 
 
 ders contained very long lists of persons rewarded 
 with military decorations. If one were to count up 
 all those thousands of Stanislaus, Annas, and Vladi- 
 mirs with the swords, all those innumerable St. Georges 
 of the soldiers, one might conclude that this was the 
 most victorious of all wars and had crowned our 
 Army with most glorious laurels. It was as though 
 with this downpour of crosses the Army wanted to 
 conceal from itself and from others that sense of shame 
 which secretly consumed it, as though it wanted to 
 show and tell the whole world: yes, for some reason 
 hopeless failures have stubbornly pursued us, but every 
 general, every soldier is performing marvels of valor — 
 they are every one of them remarkable heroes. 
 
 The officers who had taken part in the Turko-Rus- 
 sian War were struck by this superabundance of re- 
 wards. According to their statements, it was not at 
 all unusual for an officer who had gone through two 
 or three important engagements to have received no 
 rewards. A red Anna sword-knot "for valor" or a lit- 
 tle decoration with the swords were considered precious 
 distinctions. Now a red sword-knot, which in the of- 
 ficers' lingo is called "cranberry" or "bill-berry," be- 
 came a mere tag bearing witness to the fact that such- 
 and-such an officer had been present at an engagement. 
 In the stafF they said outright that every one would 
 receive two rewards in rotation for the war. The Com- 
 mander of the Tenth Army Corps, the famous K. V. 
 Tserpitski, one of the few generals who proved him- 
 self worthy of his post, was compelled to issue the fol- 
 lowing strange order to his corps: 
 
 "In the future I sternly forbid any one to recom- 
 mend all the officers en masse for rewards, and ask that 
 only those be recommended who deserve a reward for 
 their valor, bravery, activity, and faithful execution 
 of duties imposed upon them!" (Order to the troops 
 of the Tenth Army Corps, 1905, No. 39.) 
 
832 IN THE WAR 
 
 I came across an unlucky officer of artillery who had 
 not received a single reward during the whole war. 
 He said wittily, "I will send my card to the 'Novoe 
 Vremya': an officer who has received no reward in the 
 theatre of war!" That was indeed such a rarity that 
 the card fully deserved a place in the newspaper.^ 
 
 Military rewards, decorations with the swords, were 
 given to commissaries, controllers, and surgeons of the 
 Rear. 
 
 Such important rewards as the Vladimir with the 
 swords were given to staff officers "for distinction 
 at various times in matters against the Japanese." 
 The Stanislaus of the second degree with the swords, 
 also "for distinction in various engagements with the 
 Japanese," was received from Kuropatkin by "a re- 
 porter, a nobleman by descent, Nemirovich-Dan- 
 chenko!" (Order of the Commander-in-Chief, 1904, 
 No. 755.) 
 
 They were especially lavish with rewards to mem- 
 bers of the staff, and against these the feelings ran 
 high in the Army. The officers with influential re- 
 lations who came flying from the capitals, frankly 
 called their journeys to the army "Campaigns of the 
 Cross." 
 
 There is a story — of course, it is only an anec- 
 dote, but it is quite characteristic — of how such 
 an officer reasoned: "It is perfectly natural that 
 an officer in a frontal position should receive a red 
 sword-knot, while I get a Vladimir. He really gets 
 two rewards at once, one in the shape of the sword- 
 knot, and the other because he has survived. And 
 
 * In the telegrams of the St. Petersburg telegraph agency of 
 November 15, 1906, we read: "Lieutenant Danil6v I, volunteered 
 in the reserve of the fleet, who was awarded the Stanislaus of 
 the second degree with the swords for participation in the engage- 
 ment of July 28, 1904, on the 'Tsesarevich,' and who declined the 
 reward on the ground that it did not represent his deserts, is 
 by Imperial order to be deprived of his decoration and never 
 again to be recommended for any rewards." 
 
IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE S33 
 
 what can there he higher than this reward? But mj 
 reward consists of nothing but a decoration!" 
 
 The respect for decorations had completely van- 
 ished in the Army. Men in Russia, looking at an officer 
 who was decorated with military distinctions, might 
 have considered him reverentially as a hero, but here 
 the sight of such an officer immediately suggested the 
 idea : "He's got a pull !" 
 
 Rewards poured down upon the rank and file just 
 as lavishly and senselessly. The higher authorities, 
 when visiting the hospitals, of their own accord at- 
 tached crosses of St. George to any one who wanted 
 them. Naturally, the authorities did not know the 
 military deserts of the wounded, and the crosses were 
 given to the ones they met first, and to those who gave 
 clever answers to their superiors, or who aroused sym- 
 pathy by the seriousness of their wounds. They told 
 — even if this is not true, the very possibility of such 
 stories is characteristic — that Linevich, during a visit 
 to a hospital, put a cross of St. George on the breast 
 of a severely wounded soldier, whom, as it later turned 
 out, his own captain had shot for refusing to advance 
 to an attack. At M we had a soldier in the hos- 
 pital whose arm was to be amputated. The regiment 
 had been resting far from the positions when a stray 
 six-inch projectile dropped upon it and tore off the 
 soldier's hand. His Corps Commander accidentally saw 
 him in our hospital, and "out of pity" got the cross 
 for him. This was very nice, so far as the soldier 
 was concerned, but what a profanation of military re- 
 wards ! The same projectile had injured several oxen 
 from the army herd. Now these oxen deserved the 
 cross not less than the soldier. 
 
 We had a soldier by the name of Lisyiinin, who had 
 been wounded in the engagement near the Sha-ho by 
 five bullets, and who, after recovery, was transferred 
 from the line to our detachment. Once, as our patrol 
 
334 IN THE WAR 
 
 returned to the sentry-box from their beat, one of the 
 soldiers began to unload his rifle and carelessly touched 
 the trigger. The shot shattered the knee of Lisyunin, 
 who was sleeping. He was discharged. Linevich saw 
 Lisyunin at the station and awarded a St. George 
 cross to him, whereas the five simultaneous wounds 
 which he had received in a severe engagement had 
 brought about no reward. The accidental wound 
 brought a cross to the soldier, just because he hap- 
 pened luckily to get in the way of the authorities. 
 
 To be under the eyes of the authorities, to rub up 
 against the superiors — that was very important for 
 getting the rewards. In the supplement to the order 
 of the Commander-in-Chief (Linevich) of September 
 19, 1905, under the number 2011, there is an announce- 
 ment that a silver medal with an inscription "for zeal" 
 on a Stanislaus ribbon "for work and excellent service" 
 was awarded to each of the servants of the Commander- 
 in-Chief's train. Conductor So-and-so (seven of them), 
 and Oiler So-and-so. I have not the slightest doubt 
 that all these persons performed "with excellent zeal" 
 their easy duty in the train of the Commander-in- 
 Chief, which stood in one spot for weeks at a time. 
 As a rule, the Orders were not very generous with 
 rewarding the train servants, and I have seen myself 
 with what "excellent zeal" the conductors and oilers 
 of the military and sanitary trains performed their 
 
 duties. 
 
 The same light-mindedness, the same carelessness in 
 regard to the appropriateness of the rewards was, at 
 times, evinced by the lower authorities. They did not 
 try to give even an external appearance of decency 
 to their recommendations, which were strikingly in- 
 consequential. 
 
 The Commander of the Second Army wrote on June 
 
 28, 1905: 
 
 "Examining the recommendations of the lower or- 
 
IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 335 
 
 ders of one of the units for distinctions of the Mili- 
 tary Order, I observe that the exploits of five men 
 of the rank and file are given verbatim in the same 
 expressions, with the fivefold repetition, *He was the 
 first to rush forward' — that is, there were, conse- 
 quently, five first ones ! Under such conditions it 
 would be hopeless to expect that the recommendations 
 would be successful. The recommendation for rewards 
 is a matter of responsibility — I ask you to keep that 
 in mind." (Order to the troops of the Second Man- 
 churian Army, No. 311.) 
 
 Three weeks later he wrote again: 
 
 "In a report of May 28, 1905, under No. 1254, the 
 Commander of the Orenburg Cossack Division made 
 representations for awarding decorations of the Mili- 
 tary Order to seven Cossacks 'for valor and bravery 
 in an engagement with the Hung-hu-tziis to the number 
 of eighty-nine men, and in the capture of the number, 
 together with ninety-three horses and ninety muskets, 
 on May 15 of this year, 1905.' The words between 
 quotation marks represent an exact copy of the third 
 paragraph (descriptions of the exploits) of the list of 
 awards. An inquest in this matter, and also an in- 
 quiry at the staff of the Seventeenth Army Corps, 
 brought to light the following: (1) that these Hung- 
 hu-tziis were peaceful men who had been hired by our 
 government to do service for the Russians ; (2) that far 
 from attacking our detachment, they allowed it to ap- 
 proach peacefully, and, upon request, surrendered their 
 arms and horses. Under such conditions one may, 
 by stretching the point, admit that the Cossacks 
 thought the armed Chinese they met were Hung-hu- 
 tziis, but it is impossible to admit in any way that 
 the capture of the Hung-hu-tziis (in consideration of 
 the fact that they allowed themselves to be disarmed 
 without resistance, although they were three times as 
 strong in numbers as our detachment) forms an exploit 
 
336 IN THE WAR 
 
 of valor and bravery worthy to be rewarded with deco- 
 rations of the Military Order. The above compels 
 me to point out to the Commander of the Orenburg 
 Cossack Division that such recommendations under- 
 mine the great significance of the decorations of the 
 Military Order, which are intended to adorn for life 
 only the breast of a warrior who has actually mani- 
 fested great valor. The recommendation was made by 
 His Excellency at random from the reports of the puta- 
 tive heroes themselves, and without the slightest en- 
 deavor on the part of the Commander of the Division 
 to clear up the affair, for which he had every oppor- 
 tunity, since the Cossacks were supported by an in- 
 fantry detachment of volunteers." (Order to the 
 troops of the Second Army, No. 353.) 
 
 Even if one should admit the usefulness of distinc- 
 tions and decorations in general, it is none the less 
 totally indisputable that the rewards, as presented in 
 our Army, could only do harm. It is strange to re- 
 ward for a mere execution of duty, since the non-exe- 
 cution of duty is severely punished. It is assumed — 
 and every layman looks precisely in this way at mili- 
 tary decorations — that the man rewarded has com- 
 mitted something peculiar, exceptional, and extraordi- 
 nary. But of such men there can be in a whole army 
 only a few dozens — well, a hundred or two. The glory 
 of their exploits should thunder over the whole world 
 and their names should be known to everybody, but in 
 our Army there were many thousands of men deco- 
 rated, and of the "exploits" of the majority one could 
 learn only from the lists of rewards. 
 
 Of course, they spoke everywhere of nothing but 
 rewards, and thought -of nothing but rewards. These 
 flitted about, beckoning and teasing, and were so very 
 accessible and so little exacting. A man had been in 
 battle. Around him dead men and wounded ones had 
 
IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 337 
 
 fallen, and yet he had not run away-— how could he 
 help laying claim to a reward? 
 
 The soldiers, hke the officers, began to consider 
 every step of theirs worthy of a reward. At the end 
 of the year, after peace had been concluded, our hos- 
 pitals were disorganized, and the detachments were 
 sent to the regiments. The soldiers went away beastly 
 drunk. It was very cold, and one of the soldiers 
 dropped on the road and fell asleep. His companion 
 walked back half a verst and asked that the drunken 
 man should be picked up. Next morning he made 
 his appearance at the house of the chief surgeon and 
 asked to be recommended for a medal "for having 
 saved a dying man." 
 
 "Are you crazy.?" 
 
 "Not at all, sir. I ask you most humbly to recom- 
 mend me for a medal for having saved him, if you 
 please." "^ 
 
 "You idiot! Don't you understand? A medal is 
 given when a man is saved at the risk of one's life' 
 But what have you done? You just walked a verst 
 out of your way, and for this you want a medal!" 
 
 "As you please. If you do not recommend me, I'll 
 enter a complaint! Why do you insult me?" 
 
 Among the soldiers the respect for the decorations 
 was greatly undermined by the circumstance that in 
 rewarding the individual was not considered in the 
 soldier. In an engagement a company has distin- 
 guished Itself and ten St. Georges are handed out to 
 it. Ten crosses for two hundred men. How are they 
 to be distributed? It's all very well if there are pre- 
 cisely ten who have really distinguished themselves. 
 i3ut why must there be precisely ten? Or why should 
 not these ten be recommended individually? As it is, 
 the company itself distributes the crosses. I have 
 been present at such distributions. Noise, shouts, quar- 
 rels. One at once understands that it is not possible 
 
338 IN THE WAR 
 
 to distribute the crosses in any equitable manner: dur- 
 ing an engagement men have no time to watch each 
 other and determine the degree of each other's valor. 
 In the majority of cases, "so as to be fair to every- 
 body," the matter is settled by "casting lots." And 
 thus a St. George is given to some cook who has not 
 even been under fire! Crosses have even been awarded 
 to a sergeant-major, to senior second-officers, or to 
 any one who puts up the biggest amount of vodka. 
 What respect can there be for such a Knight of St. 
 George? The soldiers themselves very carefully dis- 
 tinguished between an individual real Knight of St. 
 George and a collective Knight of St. George. Is it 
 not possible to arrange matters in such a way that 
 an exploit of a whole group should bring about the 
 reward, not of accidental individual representatives 
 of this group, but of the whole group.'' Such a re- 
 ward might consist in a St. George ribbon in the but- 
 ton-hole, a medal, or any kind of token which would 
 truthfully indicate what actually took place — the 
 group distinction. But now some are rewarded with 
 crosses as personal heroes, while the others get no 
 reward at all. Or again, the whole group may be 
 rewarded with distinctions attached to its flag, or to its 
 bugles. I can imagine what a sour smile a general 
 would wear if his Anna or Vladimir should be at- 
 tached, not to his breast, but to the flag or bugle. 
 
 We junior surgeons of the hospital had already 
 been recommended by the chief surgeon for a Stanislaus 
 of the third degree, and we had received it for our 
 complete inactivity in the engagement near the Sha-ho. 
 Now after the Mukden engagement the chief surgeon 
 recommended us for an Anna of the third degree with 
 the swords. The Sisters he recommended for gold 
 medals on an Anna ribbon, and the senior Sister, who 
 already had a gold medal, for a silver medal on a St. 
 
IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 339 
 
 George ribbon. In the motivation of the recommenda- 
 tion it said that we had dressed the wounded under 
 hostile fire. We laughed and retorted that we could 
 not have dressed the men, for the simple reason that 
 we had no dressing material. The senior Sister alone, 
 to whom the St. George ribbon was of importance for 
 her society work, stubbornly insisted, amidst the smiles 
 of all, that she had dressed wounds under fire. At the 
 bottom of his heart the chief surgeon hated us all, and 
 we did not restrain our laughter at the rewards even 
 in his presence. But he recommended us for decora- 
 tions, none the less, because that was an advantage 
 to him; if everybody under his charge distinguished 
 himself, it was clear that he himself deserved a re- 
 ward. 
 
 In Sultanov's hospital matters were carried out on 
 a broader scale. Sultanov recommended Novitskaya 
 for a gold medal on a St. George ribbon, and the other 
 Sisters for a silver medal on a St. George ribbon. Of 
 course, it was said of all of them that they had dressed 
 the wounded under hostile fire, and that Sister Novit- 
 skaya had more especially distinguished herself by her 
 self-sacrifice. 
 
 But we had a different Division Chief now. By New 
 Year our former Division Chief, a lazy, easy-going old 
 man, had a nervous breakdown and was returned to 
 Russia. His place was taken by a clever, energetic, 
 and independent general. Towards the end of the Muk- 
 den Engagement, during the universal panic, he 
 brought his Division in complete order from the left 
 flank to the railway and held back the attacking Japa- 
 nese. Kuropatkin is said to have told him: "I have 
 come across the first general who has not lost his 
 head." This general did not care to consider in the 
 least the particular sympathies which the Corps Com- 
 mander entertained towards Sultanov's hospital. A 
 J^eek before the Mukden Engagement he inspected both 
 
340 IN THE WAR 
 
 our hospitals. He found Sultanov's men in a bad con- 
 dition, the horses lean and emaciated, and the accounts 
 mixed up; and in an order to the Division he gave a 
 stinging reprimand to almighty Sultanov. 
 
 This time the Division Chief protested against Sul- 
 tanov's recommendation of the Sisters for rewards. 
 He found no basis for distinguishing between Novit- 
 skaya and the other Sisters: if she really deserved a 
 gold medal, the other Sisters deserved it equally. Ran- 
 corous Novitskaya was terribly put out about it. Sul- 
 tanov gave a dinner. At one table sat the distinguished 
 people, the Corps Commander, the Chief of Staff, 
 Novitskaya, and Sultanov, while at the other sat the 
 remaining Sisters and the minor members of the Staff. 
 The adjutant informed the Sisters that the intention 
 was to recommend them for gold medals. Novitskaya 
 heard this, and proclaimed in a loud voice: 
 
 "It will be very, very unpleasant for me if I am put 
 on a level with everybody T' 
 
 After that the Corps Commander began to make 
 even more insistent representations to the Division Chief 
 that the other Sisters should be given silver medals. 
 The Division Chief replied emphatically : 
 
 "In the list of awards there is a place for special 
 remarks by Your Excellency, and you may write there 
 what you please; but I will not change my recom- 
 mendation !" 
 
 Sultanov himself received a very important reward 
 for the Mukden Engagement. In the month of April 
 the Corps Commander once came to Sultanov's dinner, 
 and during the meal solemnly put around Sultanov's 
 neck an Anna of the second degree with the swords. 
 
 We were moved some five versts further to the north 
 to the village of Tai-pin-shan. We were located half a 
 verst from the Mandarin Road on a large farm which 
 ;was surrounded by clay walls with barbicans and 
 
IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE S41 
 
 towers. Here all the wealthy farms were fortified 
 against attacks o^^ the Hung-hu-tziis. Our landlord 
 was not at home: he had left with his family for 
 Mai-mai-kai. The baggage-train of one of the infantry 
 regiments was stationed on the same farm. 
 
 Spring was coming on. The buds were swelling, joy- 
 ful blades of new grass were bursting forth, and the 
 yellowish meadows had now a greenish sheen. One 
 evening a stout old Chinaman in a fur cap, with a 
 pockmarked, beardless face appeared in the yard. He 
 had an old man's kindly smile. He tottered along on 
 his weak legs, leaning on a long, slender staff. The 
 Chinese workmen looked at him reverently and said 
 to us: 
 
 "Big, big captain ! Master !" 
 
 And they pointed about them, to show that he was 
 master of everything around. 
 
 The old man shambled over the yard and exam- 
 ined it. He smiled good-naturedly and gently at us, 
 and asked our permission to enter his house. This 
 was granted. He entered and examined the rooms. 
 Apparently he was satisfied because nothing was 
 broken. 
 
 "Shango (all right) !" said he. 
 
 "We shall not break anything," we said soothingly 
 to him. 
 
 "Shango," he repeated. 
 
 He sat down on a box in the yard, puffing at his 
 long pipe. From an adjoining house with raised win- 
 dows came responses and chanting — they were serving 
 vespers. One could hear strange imprecations about 
 those who were suffering, and about the peace of the 
 whole world. The old man listened with curiosity. 
 
 He had no place on the farm to locate himself, for 
 everything was occupied by us and our detachment. 
 Towards evening he returned to Mai-mai-kai. 
 
 The Chinamen were driving into the field. It was 
 
342 IN THE WAR 
 
 sowing time. Two Chinese officials with round balls 
 on their hats, surrounded by a retinue of variegated 
 Chinese policemen with long canes, were calling upon 
 the chiefs of the Russian units. The officials pre- 
 sented a paper in which the authorities asked the Rus- 
 sian chiefs not to interfere with the Chinese in the 
 working of the fields. The Russian chiefs read the 
 paper, magnanimously shook their heads, and in- 
 formed the officials that, of course, of course, there 
 could be no possibility of interference. 
 
 One morning I heard in the distance strange Chi- 
 nese shouts, which sounded like howls and sobs. I 
 went out. In the next yard, where the regimental bag- 
 gage-train was located, soldiers and Chinamen were 
 crowding. A row of empty carts stood there, to which 
 were hitched under-sized Chinese horses and mules. 
 Near an empty hole lined with mats the pock-marked 
 old man was sobbing, swaying to and fro on his weak 
 legs. He lamented, strangely raising his arms to the 
 sky and clasping his head with his hands, and, bend- 
 ing down, looked into the opening. 
 
 In the hole the old man had put away four hundred 
 puds of kao-liang seed, with kao-liang roots thrown 
 over it. He had arrived in the morning with carts 
 and workmen, in order to haul away the seed for the 
 sowing. When he had uncovered the hole he found 
 it empty. 
 
 The chief of the baggage-train, a phlegmatic cap- 
 tain with long, sandy mustaches, was there. He 
 watched the old man with indifferent curiosity, and 
 to the questions of the interpreter shook his shoulders 
 in surprise, saying that nobody had taken the kao- 
 liang. 
 
 "Nikolay Sergyeevich, do you know if, perhaps, one 
 of our soldiers took it.^^" he asked a lieutenant. 
 
 There was something false and unnatural in his 
 voice. 
 
IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE MS 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Boys, have any of you taken his kao-liang?" the 
 captain said, turning to the detachment. 
 
 "Not at all, sir," the soldiers answered, with hesi- 
 tation, looking aside. 
 
 The old man jumped into the hole. He rolled at 
 the bottom of it in convulsive sobs and said some- 
 thing in Chinese. The interpreter explained that the 
 old man asked to be buried in the hole, because now 
 he would die from starvation anyway. 
 
 The soldiers walked away in silence, looking sad 
 and morose. 
 
 In the evening the orderlies told us that about ten 
 days before the soldiers of the train had accidentally 
 stumbled on the buried kao-liang and had informed 
 the chief of it. The captain gave each of them three 
 rubles not to tell anybody, and on a dark night, when 
 all were asleep, he had the kao-liang transferred to 
 his barns. 
 
 I asked the soldiers of the train about it some time 
 later. They told me angrily and with contempt about 
 the matter, and did not try to conceal anything. 
 
 "What could we do.'' Whatever a soldier is com- 
 manded to do he must do ! But the sin is on the chief !" 
 
 Only Groom Mikheev, who had discovered the kao- 
 liang and had informed the captain about it, said: 
 
 "Why did I do it ! The Chinaman has lost his last ! 
 God will pay me for it !" 
 
 The old landlord disappeared and we never saw him 
 again. 
 
 All about us the usual looting took place. Houses 
 were destroyed for the fuel, and the last provisions 
 were taken from the Chinese. The Commander-in- 
 Chief issued a hazy order: 
 
 "The Commander-in-Chief herewith reiterates the or- 
 der that the persons in charge shall direct their most 
 
SM IN THE WAR 
 
 careful attention to the preservation of the Chinese 
 villages in the rear regions of the Armies, and 
 to the regulation of the exploitation of the local sup- 
 plies of provision and provender." (Order No. 
 365.) 
 
 This order again flashed by like a dry, useless piece 
 of paper and disappeared. 
 
 But, in comparison with previous conditions, a new 
 phenomenon could be observed: the non-resistance and 
 meek silence of the Chinese began to disappear. The 
 predictions of the interpreter whom we had met dur- 
 ing the retreat, that the Chinese patience would soon 
 give way, was now being fulfilled. 
 
 In the mornings they kept finding on the Mandarin 
 Road soldiers and Cossacks with their throats cut or 
 shot. 
 
 It was dangerous to travel along the road alone. 
 Transports which went out to forage returned empty- 
 handed, while in the carts lay soldiers with blood- 
 stained bandages. They told of encounters with Hung- 
 hu-tziis, and of the fact that whole villages of Chinese, 
 arming themselves with anything at hand, were attack- 
 ing our foragers. 
 
 It looked as though this were the beginning of a 
 fierce, merciless guerilla warfare. There were rumors 
 that the Hung-hu-tziis had lately captured two Rus- 
 sian officers, had put iron rings through their noses, 
 and were leading them around by ropes, with their 
 hands tied from behind. The Hung-hu-tziis themselves 
 were on horseback, and the prisoners had to run be- 
 hind. They were left to sleep in the yard, in dirt, 
 and out in the rain. 
 
 At the end of April we received from the division 
 staff the following strange telephonogram : 
 
 "Important. The Commander-in-Chief has given or- 
 ders to warn immediately the baggage-trains and in- 
 stitutions located on the rear roads to be ready to 
 
IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 845 
 
 ward off the attacks of mounted Hung-hu-tziis and 
 Japanese detachments." 
 
 What is this? In the rear of our troops hostile 
 detachments are moving about freely and the non-fight- 
 ing units are ordered to contend with them! Obvi- 
 ously the flanks of our army are open and there are 
 no screening detachments. Then the rumors must be 
 true that some beautiful day the flanking army of the 
 Japanese may cut off^ the Russian retreat and move 
 upon us from the north. 
 
 In the morning we received another order: we were 
 commanded to fortify the farmhouses, to make bar- 
 bicans in the fences, to send out scouting parties, 
 and to build signal towers. Again the nights were dark, 
 and painfully disquieting. The groan of a sleeping 
 neighbor was believed to be the distant sob of a 
 wounded man, and every sound assumed a threatening, 
 alarming significance. 
 
 It became more and more difficult to procure for- 
 age. The surrounding villages were devastated. The 
 horses starved, for they were fed on rotten straw and 
 rotten kao-liang. An oppressive feeling existed in the 
 positions and in the neighboring rear. Nobody ex- 
 pected any victory. The most rabid patriotic officers 
 did not put any faith in the ultimately demoralized 
 army. It is true they proved that the present posi- 
 tions were literally inaccessible, that a flanking move- 
 ment was absolutely unthinkable; but precisely the 
 same had been said before the Liao-yang and Mukden 
 engagements, and nobody had taken it seriously. 
 Everybody waited for and expected but one thing: at 
 last the Baltic Squadron would come, would destroy 
 the Japanese fleet, would cut off^ the Japanese army, 
 and then everything would be changed. 
 
 We were told that Linevich had sent the Tsar a 
 secret telegram, in which he informed him that we 
 had fewer troops than the Japanese, that the morale 
 
346 IN THE WAR 
 
 had completely disappeared, that there was not the 
 slightest hope of victory, and that our army was in 
 danger of starving to death. He considered it his hum- 
 ble duty to inform the Tsar of it, but for the rest, as 
 a soldier, he did not dare to pass any opinion: if he 
 were commanded, he would enter battle, even with one 
 company. 
 
 Of Kuropatkin, who remained here in command of 
 the First Army, it was said that he was passing all 
 his time in the front positions and that all men in his 
 entourage had the impression that he was stubbornly 
 and persistently seeking death. 
 
 We remained in the village Tai-pin-shan the whole 
 month of April without work. In the beginning of 
 May they transferred us for the same kind of inac- 
 tivity some ten versts further north, and located us 
 not far from Godziadan Station. Sultanov's hospital 
 had all that time remained standing not far from the 
 corps staff. 
 
 The trees and fields were already getting green, 
 and it was growing warm. Everywhere roads were be- 
 ing made and bridges constructed, in case we should 
 have to retreat. 
 
 They brought past us from the positions to the 
 station parties of captive Japanese and Hung-hu-tziis. 
 With them disarmed Russian soldiers were marching 
 under convoy. We asked the soldiers of the convoy: 
 
 "Why have these been arrested.^" 
 
 "Why have our boys been arrested.? They have 
 been cursing the officers," the soldiers replied, gruffly 
 and unwillingly. 
 
 A secret order was received to open and examine 
 carefully the letters which arrived from Russia for 
 the soldiers, since a large quantity of proclamations 
 against the government were sent in them. 
 
 There came news of agitation in Russia, of strikes. 
 
IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 347 
 
 of demonstrations on a large scale. The officers made 
 a witticism: 
 
 "Have you heard, in Russia all the babes at the 
 breast have struck? They are demanding freedom of 
 speech and freedom of action!" 
 
 "Yes, it's bad to return to Russia now. Affairs are 
 not going right there!" 
 
 "Never mind! We shall return and quell the dis- 
 turbances !" 
 
 "No, gentlemen, we shan't return so easily! We 
 couldn't make our appearance in the street! Have 
 you not read that last winter they knocked down a 
 general in St. Petersburg.?" 
 
 "And what a send-off they gave us when we left! 
 How they shouted 'Hurrah' !" 
 
 "Yes, and now you have to walk through the by- 
 streets or else they'll knock you down!" 
 
 "But that is a mob!" 
 
 "Yes, yes! The same that shouted 'Hurrah'!" 
 
 "The devil take it! No, it would be better if our 
 corps were left in Siberia. Later, when all is forgot- 
 ten, we can return!" 
 
 A gloomy lieutenant with a red nose waved his arms 
 with determination. 
 
 "There is no use talking! When we return home 
 the students will slap our faces !" 
 
 "Well, we will see who will slap whom!" 
 
 And his eyes burned ominously. 
 
 Beginning with May 17 there were dull rumors in 
 the Army that somewhere near Japan the Baltic Squad- 
 ron had been beaten by Admiral Togo. The rumors 
 grew from day to day, and became more persistent, 
 more definite, and more improbable. They said that 
 the squadron had been completely destroyed, that the 
 best armor-clads had been sunk, and the rest cap- 
 tured by the Japanese, that Rozhdestvenski and Nebo- 
 
848 IN THE WAR 
 
 gatov were in captivity, that only one cruiser had got- 
 ten to Vladivostok, while the Japanese fleet had suf- 
 fered no losses. The most confirmed pessimists re- 
 tailed these "exaggerated" reports with a smile. But 
 day after day passed, and the improbable rumors 
 turned out to be correct; the formidable fleet which 
 had been so lauded, and in which they had tried to 
 inculcate in the Army such faith — that fleet had gone 
 to pieces, like a mere toy, under the long-range guns 
 of Togo, without having done any harm to the Japa- 
 nese, It turned out that the Baltic Squadron was 
 a new immense clay gun, which was merely intended to 
 frighten the Japanese by its appearance. 
 
 Despair, terror, indignation reigned in the Army. 
 How could all this have happened? The soldiers per- 
 sistently refused to believe in the destruction of the 
 squadron. 
 
 "Maybe it's all only newspaper talk and lies!" 
 
 Everybody was filled with deep, ever-growing per- 
 plexity. Whence did the Japanese, of whom no one 
 had even heard before the war, get their magic invin- 
 cibleness and strength? 
 
 "Well, now peace is certain," everybody said with 
 assurance. "All the limits of madness have been 
 passed." 
 
 The rumors crept on, rolled up, and grew in strength. 
 It was said that the Japanese had only been waiting 
 for an engagement at sea, and now were ready to 
 strike us with all their strength. They were pre- 
 pared superbly, and if a battle should take place now 
 all our Army would be swept from the face of the 
 earth. 
 
 They whispered into each other's ears the news that 
 when the report of the destruction of the squadron 
 reached St. Petersburg enormous popular demonstra- 
 tions had taken place, and that fourteen thousand 
 men had been killed. 
 
IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 349 
 
 Rumors of peace became more stubborn. It was 
 said that the Japanese had already started their ad- 
 vance and had suddenly stopped it. The soldiers 
 awaited peace with a certain painful tenseness and 
 longing. Their eyes burned dimly. They said: 
 
 "They sent us here like so many cattle to be slaugh- 
 tered. Nobody knows why !" 
 
 At last, on June 1, there appeared the Govern- 
 ment's declaration that President Roosevelt had of- 
 fered the Russian Government his mediation in con- 
 ducting peace overtures with Japan, and that the Rus- 
 sian Government had accepted Roosevelt's offer. 
 
 Now the torture began. This torture lasted all sum- 
 mer, about two months and a half. 
 
 Everybody awaited eagerly any bit of news from 
 Washington. The soldiers went every day to the sta- 
 tion to buy a number of The Messenger of the Man- 
 churian Armies. Roosevelt's mediation is accepted, the 
 plenipotentiaries of Russia and Japan are ready to 
 meet, and suddenly comes Linevich's order, in which 
 he quotes the Tsar's telegram to him: "I put full 
 faith in my valiant troops, that in the end they will, 
 with God's aid, overcome all obstructions and bring 
 the war to a favorable issue for Russia." 
 
 And again: the place of meeting of the plenipoten- 
 tiaries was to be Washington, but the plenipotentiaries 
 would not meet until August, two months hence. Why 
 so long? And in other telegrams we were informed that 
 Oyama had passed over to an active advance. From 
 the positions came rumors that a general engagement 
 was near. The Japanese had landed in Saghalien, had 
 seized the Korsakovski Post, and were rapidly moving 
 into the interior of the island. 
 
 The weather was warm and rainy. There was a 
 continuous steam in the air. Rumors of an imminent 
 battle became more persistent, whereas rumors of peace 
 
350 IN THE WAR 
 
 negotiations and a truce became more hazy. The sol- 
 diers said: 
 
 "It would be better if they didn't write anything 
 at all, because the despatches only torture a man's 
 heart. To-day you read a paper, and you rejoice at 
 the truce. To-morrow you open a paper and it's a 
 veritable grave ! You hate to look at it ! It was much 
 better when we didn't think of it and expect it ! Now 
 you can't sleep in daytime for the flies and in night- 
 time for your heavy thoughts! Formerly a soldier 
 could eat a whole potful of cabbage soup, and now 
 four of them eat out of one pot, and there's still some- 
 thing left over. Formerly we couldn't get any bread. 
 Now we sell to the Chinamen, and we still have some 
 to throw away ! Nobody feels like eating !" 
 
 There appeared in The Messenger of the Manchurian 
 Armies a telegram which had been sent by the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief to the Tsar. In this telegram Lin^- 
 vich said that the Army heard of the peace negotia- 
 tions with sorrow and that to a man it burned with 
 the desire to contend with the enemy. 
 
 The soldiers read the telegram and laughed ma- 
 liciously : 
 
 "Apparently he hasn't made enough money! So 
 he is writing this way! He is getting twelve thou- 
 sand rubles a month, so what more does he want?" 
 
 "Why does he lie to the Tsar? He didn't ask for 
 our opinion!" 
 
 "If he had, who would have told him? They once 
 made inquiries among us. The general asked us : *Are 
 you satisfied with everything?' 'Yes, Your Excellency.' 
 'Do you get good food?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Have you drunk 
 your coif ee to-day ?' 'Yes, sir.' The general laughed : 
 'But what coffee did you drink to-day?' Of course, 
 of course, a soldier says 'Yes, sir' to everything, and 
 that's all!" 
 
 Some officers visited us from the positions. Looking 
 
IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 351 
 
 cautiously about them, so as not to be heard by the 
 orderlies, they told us that the other day two bat- 
 talions had refused to go to the positions. 
 
 "Why should we go? There's a truce now! The 
 Tsar wants peace, and the nation wants peace! It's 
 only the generals who don't want it!" 
 
 The attitude of the soldiers was changing rapidly 
 and visibly. They saluted the officers reluctantly, and 
 there were constant conflicts. 
 
 In the middle of July Witte left for Washington, 
 and everybody breathed more easily; now it was a 
 sure thing! Suddenly the rumor spread that he was 
 recalled home while on his way. The patriotic papers 
 wrote against peace. The city council of Khabary 
 sent an humble address to the Tsar begging him not 
 to accept peace if the Japanese should ask for an in- 
 demnity, or "even for a foot of Russian soil." The 
 Tsar's reply to the address said: "I share fully the 
 sentiments which animate the Khabary City Council." 
 The appeals of all kinds of insignificant places were 
 received in the same way. Maybe all this was done 
 in order to make the Japanese more yielding. But 
 suppose the determination is really serious ! 
 
 Everybody was equally tired of the war. They 
 wanted no bloodshed, no unnecessary death. At the 
 front positions there were constant repetitions of such 
 incidents as this: a Cossack patrol gets trapped in a 
 ravine which is on all sides surrounded by the Japanese. 
 Formerly not a single one of the Cossacks would have 
 come out alive. Now a Japanese officer appears on 
 the hill, smilingly salutes the chief of the patrol, and 
 points the way out. And the Cossacks ride off in 
 peace. 
 
 The rumors of Witte's recall turned out to be false. 
 He arrived in Washington, and the negotiations be^ 
 gan. Everybody followed with eager attention the 
 progress of the negotiations, and they fought for num- 
 
S52 IN THE WAR 
 
 bers of TJw Messenger of the Manchurian Armies, 
 Meanwhile, the local authorities tried to "maintain the 
 spirit" in the troops. The commander of one of our 
 regiments informed the soldiers that peace was wanted 
 only by the Jews and the students. 
 
 A general of great importance who had just arrived 
 in the Army said the following in his speech to the 
 soldiers : 
 
 "If anybody tells you that peace has been concluded, 
 black his eye!" 
 
 The Messenger of the Manchurian Armies printed 
 verses "from soldiers," something like this : 
 
 Do lead us, our Father, to victory's battle. 
 
 Do lead us against the bold foe! 
 
 We'll follow as thunder on thunder does rattle. 
 
 To war now once more we shall go. 
 
 Our blood shall wash oif the appalling disgrace 
 
 Endured in the terrible past; 
 
 The country's contempt we shall nevermore face. 
 
 So lead us, our Father, at last ! 
 
 The telegrams were most contradictory — one was 
 for peace, the other for war. The final meeting was 
 constantly delayed. Suddenly the news spread : "Peace 
 is concluded!" This turned out to be untrue. Then 
 there came threatening, ominous telegrams: "Witte 
 does not agree to any concessions ; a place has been re- 
 served for him on the steamer and Martens is packing 
 his trunks." There was a rumor that the chiefs of the 
 armies had met with Linevich in a military council, 
 and that an attack was being prepared for the next 
 few days. 
 
 Never before in all my life had I seen such a uni- 
 versal, deep dejection. The officers sat gloomy and 
 pensive, barely exchanging remarks. 
 
 "What madness! They are going to their destruc- 
 tion, and they do not understand! This is simply a 
 historic Neinesis !" 
 
IN EXPECTATION OF PEACE 353 
 
 *'Yes, the horizon is gloomy. Not only do they go 
 to destruction themselves, but they send us there !" 
 
 "It is terrible to think that the very best regiments 
 are likely to lay down arms ; they have become too 
 much accustomed to the thought of peace. And just 
 to think of leading them to battle with such a spirit !" 
 
 The soldiers were glum and angry. They sold the 
 Chinese their last shirts. 
 
 "What is the use of keeping them now? Let us go 
 and have a drink. We thought that there would be 
 peace! So let the treasury look out for it!" 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 PEACE 
 
 "Hurrah !" It thundered everywhere in the sunlit air. 
 On the road two artillerymen were driving in a cart, 
 swinging high in the air a sheet of The Messenger and 
 shouting : 
 
 "Peace ! Peace !" 
 
 "Hurrah !" was the. reply. 
 
 Soldiers threw their caps in the air, embraced each 
 other, and shook each other's hands. All read eagerly 
 Witte's telegram to the Tsar: 
 
 "Japan has accepted your conditions of peace, which 
 will be thus reestablished, thanks to your wise and firm 
 determination." 
 
 They read this over and over. After the telegram 
 there was an editorial in the usual inflated, false style: 
 
 "The near probability of the conclusion of peace 
 will, to some extent, sadden our warriors, who had been 
 awaiting further battles, in order to take off the weight 
 of former failures by new victories. Unto all these 
 worthy warriors of the Russian land be it known that, 
 by dint of their persistent desire for victory, the pos- 
 sibility has been created for Russia to remain now, as 
 in the past, a great power in the Far East." 
 
 And again the eyes ran up to the precious tele- 
 gram. Everywhere there was rejoicing, everywhere 
 could be heard merry laughter, "Hurrah!" The men 
 tore The Messenger with Witte's telegram from each 
 other's hands, and in Mai-mai-kai they paid half a 
 ruble for a number. 
 
 354 
 
PEACE 355 
 
 They say that it was raining when the telegram was 
 received in Harbin. In one of the restaurants an of- 
 ficer turned to those present and pointed to the thick 
 drops which fell from the sky: 
 
 "Gentlemen, look! You think that it is rain! No, 
 it is not rain ! It is the tears of commissary officers, of 
 generals, and of members of the staff!" 
 
 The great struggle of the Christian warriors with 
 the "Dragon" had come to an end. Hypocritical pub- 
 licists might even now have spoken of the holy exploit 
 undertaken by Russia; but the soldiers estimated the 
 quality of this exploit in an entirely different way. 
 They said with relief: 
 
 "We have had enough of wandering over the fields 
 and heaping up sins ! Oh, Lord, what sin we have 
 heaped up!" 
 
 We waited for the ratification of the treaty. No 
 truce was concluded. In the front positions conflicts 
 kept taking place; every day there came news of men 
 killed. Why these unnecessary sacrifices now.'* In re- 
 ply the officers laughed: 
 
 "They are hurrying to get those rewards which they 
 have failed to obtain heretofore. The moment peace is 
 ratified there will be an end ; the chiefs of the armies 
 will lose the right to give decorations on their own 
 account. You ought to see what's happening! You 
 can't find a single general at home! They're all bob- 
 bing up in the front positions !" 
 
 The staffs were besieged by officers who came from 
 all sides to apply for rewards. 
 
 The medals of our Sisters were confirmed. The 
 junior Sisters received gold medals on St. Anna ribbons 
 "for their extremely efficient and self-sacrificing service 
 in tending the wounded, and for the evacuation 
 from February 12 to 20 of this year," The senior Sis- 
 ter received a silver medal with the inscription "for 
 
356 IN THE WAR 
 
 bravery" on the much-coveted St. George ribbon, "for 
 her self-sacrificing work in tending the wounded under 
 hostile fire in February, 1905." 
 
 The Sisters were radiant and everybody congratu- 
 lated them. The soldiers of our detachment asked me 
 in surprise: 
 
 "Your Honor, why did they get those medals? It's 
 now the second time they have been awarded to them. 
 Have they done more work than the surgeons' assist- 
 ants? Why did they get them?" 
 
 Indeed, they had not done more work than the sur- 
 geons' assistants. The Sisters had worked conscien- 
 tiously, but the assistants' work had been much harder. 
 Besides, during the campaign the Sisters travelled in a 
 carriage, while the assistants, being listed as of lower 
 rank, went on foot. The Sisters received their keep 
 and about eighty rubles a month; whereas, the assist- 
 ants, rated as under-officers, received about three ru- 
 bles. 
 
 The chief surgeon recommended some eight assist- 
 ants and hospital attendants for medals. He was told 
 that only two medals would be apportioned to every 
 hospital for the lower ranks. In this case, the rewards 
 were at wholesale and by averages — two to a hospital. 
 In our hospital the sergeant-major and the senior as- 
 sistant received medals. 
 
 The Sisters — I have nothing to say against them. 
 In the war they had not been useless, and in the rear 
 hospitals they had even been very useful; but they 
 had served as a necessary adornment of a battle-scene. 
 They had been "white angels, allaying the torments of 
 the wounded warriors." As being such "angels," uni- 
 versal praises were sung to them, and everybody was 
 prepared in advance to be touched by them and to 
 shower them with rewards. So far as I know, not a sin- 
 gle Sister came back from the war without one or two 
 medals. It was sufficient for a bullet to whizz by them 
 
PEACE 357 
 
 within five hundred feet, or for a shrapnel to burst near 
 them for them to be rewarded with the St. George rib- 
 bon. For such Sisters as had acquaintances in the 
 upper circles even that was unnecessary: they received 
 St. George ribbons simply for being acquainted with 
 the powers that be. Thus Novitskaya and the other 
 Sisters of Sultanov's hospital, who had not once been 
 under fire, received those precious ribbons. The Com- 
 mander of the Army came to our hospital once 
 during the summer. He was very nice to the Sisters 
 and invited them to dinner — the general was fond of 
 feminine society and always invited Sisters to his din- 
 ners. During the conversation he asked pretty Sister 
 Leonova if she had worked under fire. Leonova good- 
 naturedly answered that she had not. A week later 
 the Sisters drove to the Commander's for dinner. The 
 Commander once more persisted in asking Leonova 
 whether the Sisters had not worked under fire. He en- 
 couraged her to give a positive answer, since he obvi- 
 ously was anxious to give the Sisters the pleasure of a 
 St. George ribbon ; but, to the provocation of the other 
 Sisters, Leonova again gave a negative answer. 
 
 Let it pass! Let the Russian public look at the 
 orange and black ribbon and at the medal with the in- 
 scription "for bravery," and think that before them are 
 self-sacrificing heroines who had fearlessly worked un- 
 der clouds of bullets, Shimoses and shrapnel. True 
 heroism abhors labels. If the public does not under- 
 stand this fact, then let its spirit feed on false heroism 
 which is adorned by elegant labels. 
 
 There involuntarily arises the desire to subdue these 
 inflated sentiments when I think of the thousands of un- 
 known, truly heroic workers, the surgeons' assistants, 
 who invisibly merged in the limitless grey sea of sol- 
 diers. Nobody sang any pasans to them, and their 
 persons did not adorn the bright military scenes. With- 
 out attracting anybody's attention, they marched mod- 
 
358 IN THE WAR 
 
 estly in the rear of the companies with their dressing- 
 packs; they froze together with the soldiers in the 
 trenches; they really worked under showers of bullets 
 and shrapnel, and fearlessly crept up under fire to dress 
 the prostrate wounded soldiers. All the officers of the 
 line spoke of these heroes with true enthusiasm and 
 respect. For their work in the hospital I, too, have 
 an especially warm feeling: not for the Sisters — al- 
 though I can say nothing against them — but for the 
 assistants and attendants who did their work with 
 such remarkable conscientiousness and who took such 
 warm and friendly interest in the wounded and the sick. 
 
 In passing I shall say a few words about the Sisters 
 in this war. 
 
 Only a comparatively insignificant part of them 
 were professionals who had already done work as Sis- 
 ters of Mercy in Russia. The majority, at least, of 
 those whom I observed, were volunteers, who had hastily 
 been instructed in the treatment of the wounded just 
 before they left for the war. What drew them to the 
 war ? Apparently there were very few of them who had 
 come because of an "idea." This war did not know 
 any heroic Sisters such as there had been during the 
 Turko-Russian War, heroines who surrounded with an 
 aureole the very image of a Sister of Mercy. That is 
 only natural. The war itself was characterized too 
 much by the absence of an "idea." During the Turko- 
 Russian War, when such men as Garshm entered the 
 lines as privates, it was natural to meet among the Sis- 
 ters such young women as Baroness Vrevskaya, who 
 was celebrated by Turgenev and Polonski. But now 
 there was enough work in Russia itself for any woman 
 who burned with the desire for exploits and self-sacri- 
 fice. 
 
 The majority of the Sisters were from that class of 
 women of whom there are so many in all the corners of 
 
PEACE 359 
 
 Russia : they have finished their studies — ^what are they 
 to do next? They live at home, give lessons to get 
 pocket-money, suffer ennui, and wait for a chance to 
 get married. At twenty years of age their life seems 
 to come to an end. Suddenly a bright, enticing light 
 appears in the distance, where everything is so unusual, 
 expansive and interesting. There were also some wid- 
 ows and married women who were dying in a dull mo- 
 notony of life. There were some adventuresses. There 
 were some women who were tired of a calm existence 
 without storms — women with souls of falcons, but with 
 weak heads. Such was the "Boy-Sister" in our hospi- 
 tal, whose eyes flashed with an eager fire the moment 
 danger was near. But there were few dangers ; life was 
 monotonous and uninteresting here, and the "Boy-Sis- 
 ter" had returned to Russia even before the Mukden 
 engagement. I asked her in surprise what had driven 
 her out to the Far East, what she was looking for in 
 the front positions, when that real thing which she was 
 trying to find had been left behind in Russia. 
 
 "Where is it? Where is it there.?" the "Boy-Sister" 
 asked me, in surprise and unbelief. 
 
 Maybe there were in the Army some Sisters who were 
 idealists. But I personally did not come across any. 
 
 Again, there were quite a number of Sisters from 
 aristocratic families, with great connections. With 
 rare exceptions these Sisters were veritable scourges of 
 those medical institutions in which they served. They 
 were very little prepared for the duties of Sisters ; they 
 carried out only such injunctions of the surgeons as 
 met with their approval. They had no respect for the 
 surgeons themselves and managed the institutions at 
 their own discretion. They turned all their activities 
 here into one solid, merry and original picnic with the 
 generals and officers of the staff. 
 
 A not lesser evil was created by the Sisters who were 
 wives of officers serving at the front. During a battle, 
 
360 IN THE WAR 
 
 when the Sisters are most needed, they were good for 
 nothing. At such a time all their thoughts were natur- 
 ally with their husbands. And if the news came that a 
 Sister's husband had been killed or wounded the Sister 
 completely lost her interest in everything about her. 
 Individual Sisters of this type might have carried out 
 their duties quite conscientiously; but the main thing 
 was that they did their work, not from inclination, but 
 from a desire to be close to their husbands. The less 
 educated among them were extremely sensitive, and they 
 took any remark in regard to mistakes as a personal in- 
 sult, so that it was exceedingly difficult to work with 
 them. The desire of the women to be near their hus- 
 bands who went into the hell of these terrible battles 
 was natural enough, but what was extremely unnatural 
 was this — that the government was paying a consider- 
 able salary — eighty rubles per month and keep — to the 
 women for being somewhere in the vicinity of their hus- 
 bands. As is always the case with the Armies in war, 
 the craving for women was enormous. The mere possi- 
 bility of passing half an hour in the society of women 
 was highly appreciated by the officers. A regimental 
 celebration was no holiday at all if they did not suc- 
 ceed in inviting to it at least two or three Sisters. Sis- 
 ters that, because of their education and social position, 
 a beggarly lieutenant would barely honor with his ac- 
 quaintance, were here persistently invited to the din- 
 ners of the commanders of the Armies, and brilliant 
 guardsmen made constant efforts to meet them. One 
 of our Sisters, who was rather pretty, once had occa- 
 sion to drive to the staff of one of our regiments where 
 there was a dentist. The whole regiment was excited, 
 and the officers peeped through the chinks of the door 
 to get a look at the Sister. One of them told me with 
 a smile of perplexity: 
 
 "Upon my word, I am not at all bashful, and I have 
 had many affairs with ladies ; but here, will you believe 
 
PEACE 361 
 
 me, when it was proposed that I make the acquaintance 
 of this Sister I stood for five minutes behind the door, 
 was agitated, and didn't dare to enter. I had grown 
 so unaccustomed to the opposite sex!" 
 
 When we walked with our Sisters along the high- 
 ways all those who passed by turned around to look at 
 them. We would be a long distance away, but they 
 would still be standing and dangerously craning their 
 necks. 
 
 It was the middle of September. We were waiting 
 for the ratification of the treaty, so as to return to the 
 winter quarters beyond Kuan-cheng-tzii. In the begin- 
 ning of August we had been moved up to the positions, 
 had opened up the hospitals, and were at work. 
 
 The chumiz had been cut and now the kao-liang was 
 being taken down. The fields were beginning to look 
 bare. The days were sunny and warm, but the nights 
 were very cold, frequently with frosts. The soldiers 
 still wore their summer shirts and cloaks. The cloth 
 uniforms and fur jackets had been carried off in the 
 spring to Harbin for safe-keeping. 
 
 The soldiers were living in their tents. They froze at 
 night, and walked about with gloomy, pinched faces. 
 Whoever had the money went to Mai-mai-kai and 
 bought himself some Chinese wadded coverlets, but the 
 demand for the coverlets was very great and the price 
 had risen to eight rubles. 
 
 Our armorer went to Harbin to fetch the warm 
 things which had been deposited there. The day after 
 his departure there came a document from the military 
 stores to the effect that our things had been transferred 
 to another store. No. So-and-So. A week later the ar- 
 morer returned without the things. He reported as fol- 
 lows: 
 
 "They didn't let me have the things, because the 
 document was made out for the wrong store." 
 
36S IN THE WAR 
 
 "You ought to have made the proper representation 
 in the old store ! They could have written a note on 
 the same document that the things had been transferred 
 to another store." 
 
 "I did see about it. But they wouldn't let me have 
 them. They said that you had been properly informed 
 about the matter." 
 
 It became necessary to write a new document, and to 
 send once more to Harbin. A week later the things at 
 last arrived. 
 
 Many uniforms, fur jackets and felt boots had been 
 so worn that they were no longer good for anything. 
 We asked for new things. The amazing circumstance 
 was revealed that there were no supplies of new clothing 
 in the Army. 
 
 During the review of inspection the Division Chief 
 said to the soldiers : 
 
 "Boys, keep in mind that it is still unknown when 
 we may return home. The winter is fiercely cold here, 
 and there are no supplies of warm clothing. Watch 
 every bit of warm rag and don't throw away anything, 
 or you will regret it later." 
 
 As I listened to the general the chilling question 
 arose before me : Suppose the Japanese did not accept 
 Witte's last ultimatum and the war should be pro- 
 longed ? 
 
 I recalled the story of the officers who arrived in the 
 summer from Vladivostok. They were amazed to see 
 how slowly the fortifying of Vladivostok was proceed- 
 ing. It was as though Vladivostok were waiting, as 
 Port Arthur had done before, for the Japanese to lay 
 siege to it, before they intended to proceed energetically 
 to fortify themselves. 
 
 Yes, here one had to believe everything — everything I 
 
 The history of Sultanov's hospital ended with a big 
 scandal. Once, as Dr. Sultanov was getting veadj to 
 
PEACE 363 
 
 visit the Corps Commander, he stepped in to explain to 
 the junior surgeon some misunderstandings which con- 
 stantly arose in the hospital. During the discussion 
 Junior Surgeon Vasilev referred to Novitskaya as "Sis- 
 ter Novitskaya." 
 
 Sultanov exploded. He stamped his feet and 
 shouted : 
 
 "Don't you dare to call Aglaya Aleksyeevna 'Sister 
 Novitskaya' !" 
 
 Vasflev's eyes bulged out in surprise. 
 
 "Excuse me ! What else is she ? She is a Sister of 
 Mercy, and her name is Novitskaya !" 
 
 Sultanov madly swung his riding-crop at Vasflev. 
 
 "If you ever dare to call her 'Sister Novitskaya' 
 again, I'll strike you with my whip !" he shouted as he 
 left the house. 
 
 The affair took place in the presence of many wit- 
 nesses. Vasilev reported to the authorities, giving an 
 account of all that had taken place. The Division Chief 
 ordered an investigation. In addition to this, Vasilev 
 went to Kung-chu-ling to the officer in charge of the 
 Red Cross and told him of the incident. The Red Cross 
 chief, on his part, sent a messenger to look into the 
 matter. It was a fine mess. The Red Cross chief re* 
 moved Novitskaya from her position as Senior Sister 
 and sent an old woman in her place. The Division Chief 
 demanded Sultanov's removal, and informed the Corps 
 Commander that he would no longer tolerate the pres- 
 ence of Sultanov in his Division. The Corps Commander 
 made every effort to hush up the affair, but the Divi- 
 sion Chief was persistent. He informed the Corps Com- 
 mander as follows: 
 
 "Your Excellency, when I received the Division, you 
 idid not inform me that my rights as Division Chief 
 would be limited." 
 
 Sultanov was obliged to send in a report of his sick- 
 ness, and he left for Harbin, together with Novitskaya. 
 
364 IN THE WAR 
 
 A month later he returned in the capacity of the chief 
 surgeon of a hospital belonging to another Division of 
 our Corps. From that time that hospital was located 
 near the Staff of the Corps. The Carps Commander ar- 
 ranged matters in regard to Dr. Vasflev so that he was 
 transferred from his corps to another. 
 
 In Sultanov's place they appointed a new chief sur- 
 geon, a bustling, talkative and perfectly insignificant 
 old man. Under his charge Sultanov's traditions re- 
 mained in full sway. Count Zarayski continued to visit 
 his Sister and the hospital authorities crouched before 
 the count. His Sister had a special orderly. She pro- 
 vided herself with a cow, and a soldier was detailed to 
 take that cow to pasture. The Sister suspected him 
 of secretly milking the cow. The soldier said to her: 
 
 "Look for another man ! I don't care to watch your 
 
 cow: 
 
 I" 
 
 For such a bit of impudence the soldier was put under 
 guard. Sultanov's detachment became very slack. 
 Once the Sisters ordered the soldiers to haul away the 
 mattresses from a hospital tent. The soldiers replied : 
 
 "We are no expressmen, to be hauling mattresses !" 
 
 The soldiers had no right to give such an answer, but 
 , . . the tent was being cleaned up for a party which 
 the Sisters were giving to the officers of the staff. 
 
 So far as my observation in the war goes, our soldiers 
 were very conscientious in doing what they considered 
 it was their duty to do. They would pasture cows, 
 drag mattresses, clean out-houses and do the dirtiest 
 kind of work, but only when they thought that this was 
 work for the government, for the "Treasury." But 
 with us they considered it a crying infringement of dis- 
 cipline if the soldiers declined to carry out the unjust 
 demands of the authorities. 
 
 Once as Count Zarayski was sitting at the house of 
 his Sister, his orderly informed him that the forager of 
 the hospital had furnished their horses with absolutely 
 
PEACE 365 
 
 rotten hay. (By the way, the hospital was not at all 
 obliged to feed at its own expense the count's horses 
 that came to the hospital almost every day.) The 
 count himself went to the forager and ordered him to 
 furnish good hay. The forager replied that the hay 
 had been provided by the commissariat and that it was 
 all of the same quality. Then the count ordered him to 
 furnish some oats for his horses. The forager declined : 
 
 "I haven't the right. Please bring a note from the 
 supervisor." 
 
 The count was terribly provoked and mercilessly 
 slashed the forager's face with his riding-whip. Then 
 he returned and said to the supervisor: 
 
 "I have just broken my riding-whip over the physi- 
 ognomy of your forager." 
 
 And he rode away from the hospital. 
 
 The soldier's whole face and head were covered with 
 red welts and discolorations. He was an extremely ac- 
 tive, honest and well-disciplined man. The supervisor's 
 patience came to an end. He was provoked and entered 
 a complaint against the count, detailing all the circum- 
 stances. This stirred up matters anew and an investi- 
 gation was ordered. The count laughed in the face of 
 the supervisor and said: 
 
 "The end of it will be that I will once more maul your 
 forager, only this time more thoroughly." 
 
 The investigation disclosed the complete correctness 
 of the soldier's behavior and the complete guilt of the 
 count. We expected that the count would at least re- 
 ceive a reprimand in the order to the Corps. But the 
 affair ended with merely "an oral reprimand" to the 
 count. What did this mean.? The Corps Commander 
 called him up and said to him : 
 
 "Count, why do you beat the soldiers.'* You know 
 that that is forbidden." 
 
 The count announced in the hospital that he did not 
 want the forager to get within his sight, or else he would 
 
S66 IN THE WAR 
 
 flay him alive. But to his acquaintances he said, smiling 
 merrily : 
 
 "Do you know I have lately received a reprimand 
 from the Corps Commander for having caused a tooth- 
 ache to a private !" 
 
 Peace was ratified. In the middle of Octoher the 
 troops went north to the winter quarters. Our corps 
 stood near Kuan-cheng-tzii Station. 
 
 When shall we get home ? Everybody was tormented 
 by this question. Everybody was eager to return to 
 Russia. It seems so simple to the soldiers: peace is 
 made, so take your seat in the car and proceed. Mean- 
 while, day after day, week after week passed. From 
 above there was an absolute silence. No one in the 
 Army knew when he would be returned home. There 
 was a rumor that the first to return home would be the 
 Thirteenth Corps, which had but lately arrived from 
 Russia. Why should it be this corps.? Where was 
 justice? It was natural to expect that we would be 
 taken back in the same order in which the troops came 
 here. 
 
 At last they published the order of the Commander- 
 in-Chief in which the sequence of the return of the corps 
 was established. It was a most fantastic arrangement. 
 The first, indeed, was the Thirteenth Corps; then fol- 
 lowed the Ninth, a few minor units, and the First Army 
 Corps. With this the sequence ended for the present. 
 The order did not consider it necessary to give any in- 
 formation as to when the other corps would leave — at 
 least in what sequence they would be transported. The 
 anxiety caused by the uncertainty, the impassioned 
 longing of the soldiers for their homes — these things 
 should have been taken into consideration. But it is 
 the business of the soldiers not to express opinions, but 
 to wait patiently and humbly for the arrangements of 
 the authorities. 
 
PEACE 867 
 
 The soldiers were in an indignant and threatening 
 mood. 
 
 In Russia and in Siberia all the railways came to a 
 standstill. In Harbin they sold tickets only up to Man- 
 churia Station. Soon all telegraphic communication 
 with Russia stopped. The great October strike was in 
 full sway. Dim and indefinite rumors reached us. 
 There were stories that massacres were taking place in 
 all the cities, that St. Petersburg was on fire, and that 
 a Constitution had been signed. 
 
 At last, on October 17, a manifesto was received in 
 the Army. Our supervisor took a copy of the mani- 
 festo at the staff and brought it to us. He began to 
 read it to us. Two orderlies entered the room and 
 busied themselves near the beds, as though they were 
 straightening up the room, and listened attentively. 
 
 The supervisor looked askance at them. 
 
 "What do you want hercf^ Begone!" he shouted 
 sternly. The orderlies left. 
 
 We burst out laughing. 
 
 *^Don't you understand, Arkadi Nikolaevich, what 
 you are reading.? This is not a proclamation. This is 
 a manifesto. An Imperial manifesto. Everybody has 
 a right to know." 
 
 "That's so. But, all the same, this is not for 
 them!" 
 
 All the military authorities, from the smallest to the 
 greatest, were very much excited by the manifesto. "The 
 movable foundations of civil liberty on the basis of a 
 real inviolability of the person, of the freedom of con- 
 science, speech, meetings and associations. . . . No law 
 can be enforced without the approbation of the Im- 
 perial Duma, and for the representatives of the people 
 is to be secured the possibility of real participation in 
 the supervision of the legal actions of the authorities 
 constituted by us. . . ." All this had heretofore ap- 
 peared only in secret proclamations, and mere distant 
 
368 IN THE WAR 
 
 references to such things had caused the confiscation of 
 letters sent from home to the soldiers. And suddenly 
 this manifesto 1 
 
 The manifesto was not printed in the orders of the 
 Commander-in-Chief and the soldiers did not read it, 
 but nonetheless they found an opportunity to become 
 acquainted with its contents. They innocently asked 
 the officers: 
 
 *'Your Honor, is it true that the Emperor has is- 
 sued a manifesto?" 
 
 The ofiicers looked surprised and answered eva- 
 sively : 
 
 "Yes, they say he has. I have not read it my- 
 self." 
 
 The soldiers listened respectfully, but their eyes 
 looked roguish. Among themselves the soldiers said: 
 
 "They are trying to hide it from us ! They think 
 we are fools ! The soldiers know everything before the 
 Commander-in-Chief !" 
 
 A rumor was created and gained credence that the 
 authorities were concealing two other Imperial mani- 
 festos; one, of course, about the land, and another, 
 that all the economic funds collected during the war 
 should be divided equally among the soldiers. 
 
 With few exceptions, officers were quite indifferent to 
 the occurrences in Russia, or looked upon them with 
 sarcastic hostility. There was in this hostility some- 
 thing infinitely stupid and trifling; it proceeded from 
 the innermost self and was not capable of the most ele- 
 mentary explanation. That which seemed to be the 
 peculiarity only of flour-dealers and cheap shop-keepers 
 was here expressed with aplomb by captains and ma- 
 jors: 
 
 "It's the Jews ! It's the Jews !" 
 
 In enormous labors, unprecedented in history, a new 
 life came into existence at home, a historical fact took 
 place which was shaking the deepest foundation of the 
 
PEACE 369 
 
 country — millions of people were struggling and taking 
 upon themselves the chains — but here there was only 
 one attitude: 
 
 '^It's nothing but the Jews ! It's all done by Jewish 
 money !" 
 
 Shantser retorted smilingly : 
 
 ^'Gentlemen, I am very much flattered by what you 
 say of the Jews ; but, truly, you do us too much honor. 
 It appears that the Jews have given you that liberty 
 for which you didn't have any aptitude yourselves !" 
 
 The armies stood at winter quarters and pined away 
 in inactivity. Drunkenness was rampant. The sol- 
 diers bought with their last money the local Chinese 
 intoxicant, hanshin. The sale of strong liquors was 
 strictly prohibited within the circle of the winter quar- 
 ters, and Chinamen were constantly being arrested. 
 But, of course, hanshin could be procured in any quan- 
 tity. 
 
 Everybody was tormented by this one persistent 
 question, which demanded an answer: When shall we 
 get home-f* But the authorities maintained the same in- 
 different silence. In the soldiers there burned a dull, 
 malicious provocation, and they wanted to do something 
 which would compel the authorities to take them home 
 as fast as possible. They threatened a strike ; but what 
 strike could be inaugurated there where people were 
 not doing any thing .^ . . . 
 
 Linevich ordered a review of the troops of our army. 
 The soldiers were revived, and they counted the days 
 until the review. They all expected that Linevich 
 would announce when they would be returned home. 
 The review took place. Linevich thanked the troops 
 "for their splendid appearance" and made a speech. 
 The soldiers listened eagerly, with burning eyes, and 
 tried to catch the indistinct, mumbled words. But be- 
 fore the eyes of the Commander-in-Chief were not the 
 
370 IN THE WAR 
 
 living masses of weary men longing for home, but offi- 
 cially brave troops "of warriors, who, in expectation of 
 future battles," etc. And Linevich said that he did not 
 understand why the Tsar, our father, had made peace. 
 With such braves, he, Linevich, would drive the Japa- 
 nese from Si-ping-kai like so many rabbits. 
 
 After the review Linevich handed eight hundred St. 
 Georges to every corps, to be distributed among the 
 soldiers who had distinguished themselves most. The 
 jokers explained this gift in this way, that Linevich 
 had not expected any peace, and had ordered twenty 
 thousand St. Georges and now did not know what to 
 do with them. 
 
 "Eight hundred St. Georges for splendid appear- 
 ance!" the officers jested. "Formerly they used to give 
 St. Georges for military exploits, and now for splendid 
 appearance !" 
 
 The soldiers' mood became more and more threaten- 
 ing. In Vladivostok a riot sprang up and the sailors 
 burnt and looted the city. A riot was expected at Har- 
 bin. 
 
 We had an unpleasant presentiment. 
 
 At last the authorities saw the real state of affairs. 
 So long as things were quiet, they did not think of 
 justice, and superciliously ignored the interests of those 
 in their charge. Now they suddenly bethought them- 
 selves of justice. On the tenth of November there ap- 
 peared an order of the Commander-in-Chief which did 
 away with the former sequence in the transportation of 
 the troops: 
 
 "In discharging the reserves to be returned home, I 
 now command that the discharge be brought about in 
 strict justice, in accordance with the arrival of the 
 troops in the theatre of war and also in the order of 
 the summons of the reserves, with the preservation of 
 the following sequence." And there followed the order 
 of the troops in the discharge. "Thus," the order con- 
 
PEACE B71 
 
 eluded, "all measures have been taken in order to send 
 the reserves home as quickly as possible." 
 
 It was also announced that a whole series of steamers 
 had been provided to expedite the transportation of the 
 reserves. 
 
 When we went to winter quarters in October it was 
 decided that our hospital would no longer operate and 
 would be disbanded. Nonetheless we were standing for 
 a month without work, and we were neither disbanded 
 nor discharged. At last there came the order of the 
 Commander-in-Chief about disbanding a whole series of 
 hospitals, among them our own. We were in doubt as 
 to whether we should disband the hospital on the basis 
 of this order, or whether we should wait for a special 
 command from the nearer authorities. 
 
 It was also known that we should not take our horses 
 back, but would sell them here at auction. We had 
 about seventy horses, and their keep cost about 
 twenty-five rubles a day. One day there arrived from 
 Harbin an export dealer, who bargained for the horses 
 and offered one hundred rubles per head. It was an 
 excellent price, and the Chinese did not buy our large 
 horses, while at the auction they would go for a mere 
 trifle. 
 
 The supervisor went to the StafF of the Division to 
 find out if he might sell the horses. The general an- 
 swered evasively: 
 
 "Of course sell them. But I warn you that I am not 
 in it ! If there is any misunderstanding with the Con- 
 troller, you will have to settle matters yourself. That 
 is none of my business." 
 
 The supervisor hurriedly wrote a document to the 
 Field Controller of our Corps, asking for advice. The 
 secretary, who took the document to him, returned 
 with it. On the back of the paper the Controller had 
 written in pencil without a signature; 
 
372 IN THE WAR 
 
 "To be retunie3. The answer is given verbally." 
 The verbal answer was that he could not say any- 
 thing and wanted us to do as we thought best. 
 
 Of course we gave it up and did not sell the horses. 
 A month later, after the horses had eaten up about six 
 hundred rubles' worth of provender, they were auc- 
 tioned off at fifteen rubles. 
 
 The railways had stopped running again, and the 
 postal and telegraph communications with Russia were 
 interrupted. But the strike committees sent out the 
 information that the transportation of the troops from 
 the Far East should take place regularly, whether they 
 wanted it or not. The authorities were obliged to enter 
 into relations with the Harbin Strike Committee, and 
 the military echelons proceeded regularly. 
 
 The discipline of the troops fell more and more from 
 day to day. The staffs informed the officers that they 
 should treat the soldiers as mildly as possible and that 
 they should not enter into controversies in regard to 
 breaches of respect. The soldiers were kept busy at 
 the stops with gymnastic exercises, military parades 
 and games. The Messenger of the Manchuricm Armies 
 was filled with letters to the editor from all kinds of 
 sergeants, artillerymen and sanitary assistants. They 
 wrote in this wise: "Friends, it is a shame to' worry 
 our Tsar; we must obey the authorities, pray to Goid, 
 but above all, drink no liquor, because that accursed 
 thing causes all evil. Of course amidst the officers there 
 are bad cheats, but in general the authorities take the 
 best possible care of us, and we must be grateful to 
 them." 
 
 One soldier would be reading, while the others lis- 
 tened and laughed. 
 
 "Who signed it.?" 
 
 "Afanasi Gurevich." 
 
 "Fool! Maksimka, write a letter to the editor: I, 
 
PEACE 373 
 
 Private Maksim Prokhorov, herewith inform you that 
 they are writing nothing but nonsense. . . ." 
 
 In the regiments the cartridges were taken from the 
 soldiers. The officers were ordered to watch carefully 
 that in the soldiers' stations there should be no out- 
 siders, that the soldiers should not be given leave to go 
 to the neighboring villages without tickets, that sudden 
 inquests should be made, and those without tickets 
 should be arrested. ... 
 
 On week days it was to some extent possible to travel 
 on the road; but on holidays, when the soldiers were 
 drunk, this was almost impossible. . , . 
 
 One day I met on the road a large crowd of disarmed 
 soldiers, marching under convoy. They were all drunk, 
 and in an ugly mood, and cursed the officers whom they 
 passed. The soldiers of the convoy apparently were 
 in full accord with their prisoners and in no way tried 
 to interfere. The soldiers were from a disbanded de- 
 tachment of Mishchenko and were on their way to one 
 of our regiments. At a station they became boisterous, 
 looted the stores and got drunk. A company of sol- 
 diers was called out against them. 
 
 The prisoners said that they had not had anything 
 to eat or drink for two days ; that they had been prom- 
 ised to be discharged home in September and that they 
 were still kept there. 
 
 One evening, on a holiday, I was taking a walk with 
 two Sisters. The sun had set. Along a narrow path 
 near the bushes we came across a bearded soldier in a 
 short fur jacket, who was somewhat intoxicated. On 
 the border of his cap was the number of one of our 
 regiments. 
 
 "Your Honor, how can I get to the staff of the divi- 
 sion?" he asked me. 
 
 "You see the village beyond the bushes? You have 
 taken the wrong road. You ought to have walked 
 straight ahead." 
 
374 IN THE WAR 
 
 "Thanks 1" 
 
 The soldier kept standing and looked enigmatically 
 at me. 
 
 "Where are you from?" I asked. 
 
 "From the staff of the division," he replied hastily. 
 But the border of his cap showed that he was not tell- 
 ing the truth. "Your Honor, give me a cigarette !" 
 
 I gave him one, and he lighted it. 
 
 "Your Honor, when at last will we go home.^^" 
 
 "I do not know," I sighed. "They say in January." 
 
 ''We won't consent to that. We will strike. My 
 wife writes me from home that the horse and the cow 
 have been sold. She has spent everything and there is 
 nothing left. I must earn something for the next sow- 
 ing. And here we have to stay through November, De- 
 cember, January I No, we won't consent to that, say 
 what you please !" 
 
 "My friend, what have I to do with it.? I myself 
 want to get home as much as you!" 
 
 *'It does not make any difference to you, with the 
 salary you get ! You can go on as it is ! If I got as 
 much as you, I wouldn't mind waiting for ten years ! 
 All we got was forty-three kopeks and a half, and even 
 that has been stopped on account of peace time ! For 
 you, waiting is profitable ; for us, it means destruction 
 and the beggar's wallet!" 
 
 There was no answer possible ; of course, so long as I 
 received two hundred rubles per month, it was easier to 
 wait. 
 
 "When will they send us home. Your Honor.?" the 
 soldier insisted. 
 
 *'They despatch them now in regular sequence, ac- 
 coriding to the order. Those who came first will be sent 
 home first." 
 
 "I declare, in regular sequence! The Thirteenth 
 Corps has just arrived, and it received a telegram from 
 Linevich to stop at Chita, but it proceeded to Harbin 
 
PEACE 375 
 
 and then went back. The Ninth Corps also arrived but 
 lately and it has been sent back. How is this? We 
 won't consent to it!" 
 
 It was clear that the soldier was making every effort 
 to provoke me to a conflict. 
 
 "Well, there is the road to the staff," I interrupted 
 him, and walked on with the Sisters. 
 
 "The road ! Oh, I knew that without you telling me! 
 I'll go home now! I was on my way to a countryman 
 of mine, but it isn't worth while. It's too late now!" 
 
 "Where is your home ?" the Sisters asked laughingly. 
 
 "In the Regiment." 
 
 "But you said you were from the staff?" 
 
 The soldier smiled, waved his arm and walked over 
 the field across the beds of kao-liang. 
 
 "You'll lose your way ! You had better walk along 
 the straight road!" 
 
 "Oh, a soldier will find the road anywhere !" 
 
 He walked about three hundred steps, then in the 
 darkness abruptly turned towards the road and 
 stopped under a tree near a Chinese grave. We passed 
 by him. The soldier stood there and looked silently at 
 us, then followed us on the road. 
 
 "Yes, one is in a fight and another is in a plight!" he 
 said, with a provoking menacing voice ; and then there 
 followed cynical curses. 
 
 The Sisters were excited. We slowed down our gait 
 to let the soldier pass by us. He went past, but con- 
 tinued to walk slowly, swaying to and fro and cursing. 
 It was now pitch dark. The road was crossed by an- 
 other. To get rid of the soldier, we silently turned into 
 the cross-road and walked on without talking. Sud- 
 denly a bending figure ran diagonally across the field 
 and stopped ahead of us on the road, waiting for us. 
 
 There was nothing to do but to turn back and walk 
 toward the village. The soldier caught up to us on the 
 run. 
 
376 IN THE WAR 
 
 "So that's the way you are fighting !" he said, breath- 
 ing heavily. "You are out at night with the Sisters 
 for no good." 
 
 I beckoned to the Sisters to walk to the village, and I 
 stopped with the soldier. 
 
 "Listen, my dear man. Aren't you ashamed to act 
 so scandalously?" 
 
 "No. What have you been doing here, eh? Now 
 you went to one side, now to another. You thought 
 you would hide from me. Sisters of Mercy! What 
 were you doing?" 
 
 He pressed against me with his left shoulder and flung 
 back his clenched fist. 
 
 "So that's the way you are fighting! Give me &ve 
 
 rubles, you son-of-a-b ! Or else I'll knock you 
 
 down !" 
 
 "Of course you won't get the ^ve rubles ! Just stop 
 and think why we tried to get away from you!" 
 
 "I know. I understand everything!" 
 
 "No, you do not understand! We went away be- 
 cause you are drunk !" 
 
 "No, I am not drunk." 
 
 "Honestly, how much did you have to drink to-day?" 
 
 "Upon my word, as sure as I live, I've had only two 
 cups of hanshin, and I am not drunk !" 
 
 "I'll tell you what : Let us go to the village and ask 
 the first man we meet whether or not you are drimk! 
 If they say no, I'll give you ten rubles!" 
 
 We walked to the village. 
 
 "God be with you! Let me have three rubles!" he 
 suddenly said. 
 
 "What? No, let us go. First let us ask!" 
 
 "Won't you give me one ruble?" 
 
 "I won't!" 
 
 "All right !" the soldier said menacingly, "you won't 
 continue to have a good time long !" . . . 
 
 He turned into the bushes. . . , 
 
PEACE 377 
 
 On the eighth of October we junior surgeons of the 
 hospital received a document in which we were told that 
 we were struck off the hospital list and were ordered 
 back to Russia to report to the Moscow Military Medi- 
 cal Department. Strictly speaking, this was a transfer 
 to the reserves, and in this case we ought to have re- 
 ceived travelling expenses to the place of our summons. 
 To avoid this, we were not discharged, but "ordered 
 back" to Russia. 
 
 And so it is the end. Soon we shall be free men once 
 more. Soon our relations to those about us will be de- 
 termined by free valuations and not by the appearance 
 of shoulder-straps and by the number of stripes and 
 stars upon them. The end! 
 
 We had passed almost eighteen months in Manchuria. 
 We had experienced many privations and many hard- 
 ships. There arose a desire to sum up matters, to give 
 ourselves an account of what we had done there. It 
 was a sad sum. The equipment of our movable hospi- 
 tal had cost about a hundred and fifty thousand rubles 
 and its monthly budget amounted to about six or seven 
 thousand. One hundred and twenty-five men had been 
 torn from their daily work in Russia and had been at- 
 tached to the hospital. What had we been doing there.? 
 In the interim between the battles we had been standing 
 for months packed up, or had been receiving a few in- 
 valids in order to send them on immediately. When an 
 engagement was in progress, we immediately packed up 
 and hurriedly went back. If we had not been there, if 
 our hospital had not existed at all, absolutely no one 
 would have been worse off for it, and no one would 
 have even noticed our absence. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 HOME AGAIN 
 
 Grechikhin, Shantser and I left together from Kuan- 
 cheng-tzii to go to Harbin. With us travelled a number 
 of officers and surgeons who were also being sent back 
 to Russia. 
 
 Next morning we arrived at Harbin. Here the mood 
 of the soldiers was even worse than at the positions. . . . 
 
 Terrible dramas took place. In Vladivostok, Artil- 
 lery Captain N — tski met a soldier on the street. There 
 were two St. Georges on the soldier's breast and he 
 walked with his arms hanging loosely at his sides 
 and a cigarette in his mouth. N — tski stopped the sol- 
 dier and reprimanded him because he had not saluted. 
 Without saying a word the soldier swung back his arm 
 and struck the officer on the side of his head with his 
 fist. Following the customary tradition among officers, 
 N — tski drew his sabre and split the offender's head 
 open. This was noticed by some soldiers who were sta- 
 tioned at the Churkin Barracks. They came running 
 out and started for N — tski. N — tski ran into the 
 officers' club and locked himself up, while the soldiers 
 tried to enter. In the club there were a few officers. 
 N — tski shot himself. The soldiers broke in and mauled 
 the officers terribly. They beat them with clubs and 
 kicked them with their boots, especially on the head. 
 Two of the officers died in a few days in the hospital. . . . 
 
 In Harbin all the traffic on the railway was in the 
 hands of the Strike Committee. . . . 
 
 378 
 
HOME AGAIN 379 
 
 In the order of the Commander-in-Chief it said that 
 the transportation by rail of the officers who were being 
 returned to Russia individually was to take place in 
 strict sequence according to the order of entry. But 
 in Harbin we learned that this order, like so many 
 others, was not at all observed. Those who knew best 
 how to use their elbows were the first to get into the 
 train. That was exceedingly unpleasant: it would 
 have been better if we could wait a day or two for our 
 turn, in order to take our places in the cars without 
 ifighting for them. 
 
 The train drew into the station at noon-time. The 
 officers, surgeons and military officials poured out on 
 the platform. Everybody tried to get into the front 
 row, in order to be the first to get into the cars. Every- 
 body looked angrily askance at his neighbor. 
 
 The train stopped and we made a rush for the cars. 
 But the cars were locked and at every door stood a 
 gendarme. 
 
 "Open the door!" 
 
 "As soon as the first bell rings it will be opened." 
 
 Everybody crowded about the steps of the cars. 
 Everybody tried to make his way through the crowd by 
 stooping and then straightening himself up in front of 
 the crowd. 
 
 "Don't you see that people are standing here? Where 
 are you trying to go to?" 
 
 "Excuse me, I did not touch you !" 
 
 "Don't push ! What a shame !" 
 
 The passengers grabbed the door-knobs and the ban- 
 isters, so as not to be pushed aside. A lieutenant of 
 sappers peeped in between the cars and noticed that the 
 door leading into one of them was not closed. As the 
 gendarme turned aside, he quickly jumped on the buffer, 
 leaped over another, and disappeared in the car. A tall 
 military surgeon tried to catch the sapper and in dis- 
 gust shouted: 
 
380 IN THE WAR 
 
 "Oh, oh, lieutenant! Where are you going? What 
 right have you . . ." 
 
 But suddenly the surgeon himself jumped on the 
 buffer and disappeared in the car. 
 
 The lieutenant returned from the car. 
 
 ^'Gentlemen, the car is already full !" 
 
 "How so.?" 
 
 The gendarme flew to one side. Roughly and an- 
 grily pushing their way with their elbows, the passen- 
 gers began to jump upon the buffer. They crowded to- 
 gether and jumped over those who fell down. It was 
 disgusting, but immediately the thought jflashed 
 through my mind: If you don't look out the same 
 thing will happen to-morrow and the day after to-mor- 
 row. And so I rushed after the others onto the buffer. 
 
 In the narrow corridor of the car people were 
 crowded together and cursing. Near me the closed 
 door of the compartment was slightly opened. I 
 quickly pushed my foot into the opening and made my 
 way into the compartment. In it were Shantser and 
 four strange officers. 
 
 "Pardon me! Everything is occupied here," One of 
 them said to me. 
 
 "Never mind ; I won't go away, anyway I" I retorted. 
 
 "What do you mean by that? The compartment is 
 intended for four people, and there are already six 
 in it!" 
 
 "Where are the six? There are only five of you 
 here !" 
 
 "We have reserved a seat for a friend who is on the 
 platform with our things." 
 
 "That's none of my business ! He is not here and I 
 shall be seated!" 
 
 Voices were raised, and in the whole car, in all the 
 compartments and in the corridor, they shouted, quar- 
 relled and cursed. New passengers tried to get into 
 our compartment. 
 
HOME AGAIN S81 
 
 "Gentlemen, let us settle the matter," I proposed. "I 
 shan't leave, anyway, and meanwhile other passengers 
 are trying to get in. Let us form a common defensive 
 union and we'll arrange matters somehow later." 
 
 Everybody laughed, and the union was formed. 
 
 All about us they were still cursing and shouting. 
 The next compartment was occupied by a negro in a 
 shining silk hat and an expensive fur coat, together 
 with an elegantly dressed woman, whose face was 
 painted and whose eyes were heavily blue-pencilled. 
 This couple had been dancing a cake-walk in the Har- 
 bin cafes chantants and now was on the way to an en- 
 gagement at Manchuria Station. 
 
 A staff-captain, with faded shoulder-straps, shouted 
 at a gendarme: 
 
 "I ask you, how did these Ethiopian mugs get here? 
 We didn't see them in the crowd when we stood near the 
 cars ! You must have been bribed to let them in from 
 the other side ! We have been shedding our blood here 
 and we have no places ! But they have been doing a 
 cake-walk and so a special compartment was found for 
 them !" 
 
 At last the train started. The officers seated them- 
 selves and made themselves comfortable in the places 
 taken by us all. Thank God ! Be it as it may, at last 
 we were homeward bound! Ahead of us was Russia ! . . .