In the Russian Ranks: A Soldier's Account of the Fighting in PolandMorse, John
History
In the Russian Ranks: A Soldier's Account of the Fighting in Poland
Morse, John
World War, 1914-1918 -- Campaigns -- Poland; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, British
Unfortunately I could not make myself distinctly understood by the
Cossacks; and my two guides, after a consultation together, seemed to
make up their minds to partly retrace their steps. They may have had
good grounds for this resolution; and I myself strongly suspected that
numerous small parties of the enemy were prowling about. The reason for
this opinion was that I saw several patrols or squads join the enemy's
battalion during the fight. We also passed a small wood, amongst the
trees of which a dozen bivouac fires were still smouldering, and these,
I saw at a glance, were not made by Russian soldiers. I likewise saw a
single horseman watching us; he was soon joined by another; and the two
followed us some distance, until one of the Cossacks fired his rifle at
them, when they galloped away.
But my escort was decidedly nervous. They were both young men--under
twenty-five, I thought--and appeared to consider me something of a
prisoner. I was surprised at this; but not sufficiently master of the
language to protest or ask for an explanation. The men frequently
changed their direction, and if they did not bewilder themselves, at any
rate fairly perplexed me, so that I could not tell in which direction we
ought to be travelling.
We passed that night in a cottage which was but little better than a
hut, the owner of which did not seem to be much pleased at being
compelled to entertain us, almost the only occasion on which I noticed
such a disposition in any person of the country, whatever his rank or
position.
There was hardly any food in the house, and that little was coarse and
dirty-looking, so that even the Cossacks turned up their noses at it.
One of them went out, and after an absence of more than an hour returned
with two fowls, some potatoes and bread, and a stone jar of vodka. They
then brought in a lot of wood from the yard of the cottage, and made
the stove nearly red-hot, at which action the proprietor protested
loudly and became very angry, while a woman I at first thought was his
wife wept. The fowls having been prepared by the speedy method of
burning off the feathers were put in a saucepan to boil. The woman and I
skinned some of the potatoes, but others were cooked with the skin on.
While waiting for supper the vodka was very liberally served out, the
man and woman taking their share; and the behaviour of the lady with one
of the Cossacks was such as to convince me I had been mistaken in
thinking that she was the wife of the peasant.
By the time the meal was cooked and eaten the woman and myself were the
only sober persons there; and I am not sure that she had not taken too
much of the fiery vodka. With the two Cossacks as partners she executed
some extraordinary figures in what I suppose I must call a polka. It
ended in the whole party falling to the floor, where they went to sleep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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