In the early summer of 1917 the world was thrilled by a news item from Petrograd announcing the formation by one Maria Botchkareva of a women’s fighting unit under the name of “The Battalion of Death.” With this announcement an obscure Russian peasant girl made her début in the international hall of fame. From the depths of dark Russia Maria Botchkareva suddenly emerged into the limelight of modern publicity. Foreign correspondents sought her, photographers followed her, distinguished visitors p

My father, Leonti Semenovitch Frolkov, was born into serfdom at Nikolsko, a village in the province of Novgorod, some two hundred miles north of Moscow. He was fifteen when Alexander II emancipated the serfs in 1861, and remembers that historic event vividly, being fond even now of telling of the days of his boyhood. Impressed into the army in the early seventies, he served during the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-78, and distinguished himself for bravery, receiving several medals. When a soldier he

Then came the Russo-Japanese War. And with it, Siberia, from Tomsk to Manchuria, teemed with a new life. It reached even our street, hitherto so lifeless and uneventful. Two officers, the brothers Lazov, one of them married, rented the quarters opposite Nastasia Leontievna’s shop. The young Madame Lazov knew nothing of housekeeping. She observed, me at work in the shop, and offered me work in her home at seven roubles a month. Seven roubles a month was so attractive a sum that I immediately acce

I arrived in Irkutsk penniless. All I possessed was what I wore. I went to look for my sister, who was in poor circumstances and ill. Her husband was out of work. One could not expect an enthusiastic welcome under such conditions. I lost little time in seeking employment, and quickly found a place as a dishwasher at nine roubles (about 19 s. ) a month. It was revolting work, in a filthy den patronized by drunkards. The treatment I received at the hands of the clients was so unbearable that I lef

May had come. The Lena had opened and become navigable. The heavy iron doors of the prison were unlocked and hundreds of inmates, including myself and Yasha, were mustered out in the yard to prepare for exile. Every winter the huge prison at Alexandrovsk would gather within its walls thousands of unfortunate human beings, murderers, forgers, thieves, students, officers, peasants and members of the professional classes, who had transgressed against the tyrannical regime. Every spring the gloomy j

We spent about six days on the road to Amga. It was a town with a mixed population. Half of its homes were tiny cabins, built by Russian exiles, many of whom had married Yakut women, as the latter were physically attractive and were proud to be the wives of white men. The natives ill-treated their wives, and were lazy, so that the women usually laboured to support their families. Some of the Yakuts were very wealthy, owning as many as a thousand head of deer and cattle. Men, women and children a

I spent nearly two months travelling homeward from Yakutsk, by water, rail and foot. The war was everywhere. The barge on the Lena was filled with recruits. In Irkutsk the uniform was much in evidence, and every now and then a regiment of soldiers would march through the streets on the way to the station, arousing one’s martial spirit. My convoy left me upon my arrival there, and I had to appeal to the authorities for funds to continue my journey. My heart was beating furiously when I reached To

Our train was composed of a number of vans and one passenger-car. These vans, in which the soldiers sleep, have two bunks on each side, and are called teplushkas . There are no windows in a teplushka , as it is really only a converted luggage van. The passenger-car was occupied by the four officers of our regiment, including our new Company Commander, Grishaninov. He was a short, jolly fellow and soon won his men’s love and loyalty. There was plenty of room to spare in the passenger-car and the

Towards winter we were moved to a place called Zelenoye Polie. There I was placed in command of twelve stretcher-bearers and served in the capacity of medical assistant for six weeks, during which I had charge of the sending of men who were ill to the hospital and of granting a few days’ rest from duty to those who needed it. Our positions ran through an abandoned country estate. The house lay between the lines. We were on the top of the hill, while the Germans occupied the low ground. We could,

The morning on which I was taken before the military medical commission I was in high spirits. It was a late December day, but my heart was aglow as I was led into the large room in which about two hundred other patients were waiting for the examination which would decide whether they were to be sent home or were considered fit to be returned to the front. The chairman of the commission was a General. As my turn came and he reached the name of Maria Botchkareva he thought it a mistake and correc

The first warning of the approaching storm reached us through a soldier from our Company who had returned from leave at Petrograd. “Oh, heaven!” he said. “If you but knew what is going on behind your backs! Revolution! Everywhere they talk of overthrowing the Tsar. The capital is flaming with revolution.” These words spread like wildfire among the men. They gathered in knots and discussed the significance of the report. Would it mean peace? Would they get land and freedom? Or would it mean anoth

The journey to Petrograd was uneventful. The train was crowded to overflowing with returning soldiers who engaged in arguments day and night. I was drawn into one such debate. Peace was the subject of all discussion, immediate peace. “But how can you have peace while the Germans are occupying parts of Russia?” I broke in. “We must win a victory first or our country will be lost.” “Ah, she is for the old regime. She wants the Tsar back,” murmured some soldiers threateningly. The delegate accompan

It was after midnight when I entered the barracks. The officer in charge reported to me the events of the evening. It appeared that at first one of the group, a Bolshevik agitator, had made his way inside by telling the sentry that he had been sent by me for something. As soon as he was admitted he got the women together and began a speech, appealing to them to form a committee and govern themselves, in accordance with the new spirit. He scoffed at them for submitting to the system of discipline

The same morning on which the telegram came from General Polovtzev there also arrived a banner, with an inscription that read something like this: “Long live the Provisional Government! Let Those Who Can, Advance! Forward, Brave Women! To the Defence of the Bleeding Motherland!” We were to march with this banner in the demonstration, that had been organized in opposition to the Bolshevik demonstration fixed for the same day. The Invalids were to march in the same procession. I talked matters ove

In the dusk of July the 7th we made our last preparations before going into the trenches. The Battalion was provided with a detachment of eight machine guns and a crew to man them. I was also furnished with a wagonload of small ammunition. I addressed my girls, telling them that the whole regiment would take part in an offensive the coming night. “Don’t be cowards! Don’t be traitors! Remember that you volunteered to set an example to the laggards of the army. I know that you are of the stuff to

My women were enthusiastic over the return of their Commander. I reported to the Commander of the Corps and was invited to luncheon with the Staff. The officers were interested to know what was going on in the rear. I did not tell them the details of the quarrel between the Prime Minister and the Commander-in-Chief, but I did indicate in general terms that a difference had arisen. Toward the end of the meal it was reported that the Chairman of the Corps Committee had come to see the Commander on

I returned to the front. The trains were frightfully crowded, but fortunately I found accommodation in a first-class compartment. At Molodechno I reported to General Valuyev, Commander of the Tenth Army, and lunched with the staff. The General was painfully surprised to learn of the punishment I had received at the hands of the soldiers. “Did they really strike you ?” he asked incredulously, as if he found it hard to imagine the soldiers maltreating Yashka. “Yes, General, they did,” I answered.

Petrograd seemed populated by Red Guards. One could not make a step without encountering one. They kept a strict watch over the station and all the incoming and outgoing trains. My escorts left me on the station platform, as they were to return to the front immediately. I had hardly emerged from the station, intending to look for a cabman, when a Red Guard Commissary, accompanied by a private with a naked sword, stopped me with the polite query: “Madame Botchkareva?” “Yes.” “Will you come with m

“What shall I say to the sentries?” the moujik asked me as we approached the front positions. “Tell them that you are carrying your sick baba to a hospital in the city, as she is suffering from high fever,” I answered, and I asked him to wrap me in the huge fur overcoat on which he was seated. I was warm enough without it, but I thought that it would raise my temperature even more, and I was not mistaken. Under all the wrappings I looked more like a heap than a human form. When we reached the ou

The investigation committee finally appeared in the distance. Petrukhin was leading it. There were all the twelve members present, the two absentees apparently having joined the other ten. “You see, how kind we are,” some of the soldiers said. “We are having the committee present at your execution.” Not one of us answered. “We have all been to see Sablin, the Commander-in-Chief,” Petrukhin announced as soon as he approached near enough to Pugatchov. “He said that Botchkareva would have to be sho

The Vasilievs were the only people I could go to in Moscow. They lived on the outskirts of the city. I made an attempt to walk to their house, but was too weak to proceed more than two blocks. There was a cabman near at hand, but he wanted twenty-five roubles to take me to my friends. I tried to bargain, offering fifteen, but he would not hear of it. As I had no money, I finally hired the cab in the hope that Daria Maximovna would pay for it. The alternative was to remain where I was. Madame Vas