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
It is about 120 miles from Grodno to Ostrolenka, and it took us nine
days to march this distance, so defective was the state of the roads.
During this time we fared pretty sumptuously; for the drivers and
officers helped themselves liberally to the provisions under their
charge. In addition to the coarse biscuit, cheese, tea, sugar and
coffee, which form the bulk of the Russian soldiers' daily food, there
was salt pork, rancid butter, potatoes, and a number of hampers destined
for officers whom they never reached. The broaching of such goods is
indefensible, but it is pretty general in all armies, not even excepting
the British: those who have been soldiers know what "old soldiers" are;
and, no doubt, I ought to admit that I require a brushful of white-wash
myself. For a dish of bacon, or a cup of wine, being placed in front of
one, what is one to do but relieve the craving of nature? The only
defence I can make is that we all do it, as circumstances occasion.
At Ostrolenka we were ordered on to Pultusk; and here we found a
division of infantry and another of Cossacks--about 14,000 men in all,
the units being reduced by the ravages of war. Among the Cossacks was
the celebrated 5th of the Don, with its woman colonel, who seemed to be
not more than thirty years of age. She had adopted male costume, and
rode astride like her troopers. She was a pleasant-faced woman, but not
a beauty, in my opinion; and there was nothing fierce or commanding in
her appearance. She was said to be of unflinching courage under any
circumstances, and to be almost worshipped by her soldiers. So it may be
surmised that her rule is gentle and just.
At Pultusk I had my first, and almost only, trouble with the people whom
I was trying to serve. A fussy officer wanted to know, rather too
minutely, who I was, and how the non-commissioned officer, Chouraski,
came to be travelling with me. I had certificates, and Chouraski a
permit, signed by a Staff Officer, and countersigned by General
Rennenkampf himself; but it was a long time before the interfering
colonel could be persuaded. He sent for a captain of the 40th Siberian
regiment named Lofe who could speak English, and ultimately was
persuaded to permit me to join the captain's company, and to retain
Chouraski as a servant. I was given no position in the regiment, but
simply served as a volunteer.
The same night, the 14th October, we made a forced march to the railway,
a distance, I computed, of at least twenty-four English miles. We
arrived at a spot where there was no station, and found troops
entraining and going off in the direction of Warsaw. There seemed to be
miles of trains by the roadside, and we got into one at a level-crossing
and immediately steamed away south, as the others had done.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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