The success of the system obviously depends on the maintenance of an even flow of men from _a_ and _D_. A delay or hitch at any point may throw the whole process out of gear. The area covered is so vast, the population so sparse, the army so huge, and the means of communication from point to point leave so much to be desired that difficulties and dangers spring up in every direction. An especially weak point about the system is that in the early stages so much depends upon the men themselves. Ivan Ivan’ich, the Russian Tommy Atkins, is no better and no worse than the rank and file of any army. He is not averse to temptation, especially when it takes the form of alcohol. Vodka was the cause of much of the muddle of the Manchurian mobilisation. In the present instance, however, General Soukhomlinov very wisely decided to take no risks. He decided on a bold stroke which, in the unsettled state of the country at the beginning of the war, might easily have been the cause of serious rioting. The Imperial ukase ordering the mobilisation was followed by another which practically prohibited the sale of alcohol in all districts likely to be affected by the military preparations. The railway stations, concentration centres, and mobilisation bases were signalled out for specially stringent regulations. There were also severe pains and penalties for those who, in their patriotic fervour, were inclined to be over-generous to the troops on their way to the front. This drastic measure was fully justified by the results. With nothing to delay them, the men arrived punctually at their posts. They were sober, and displayed all the virtues of sobriety. Their health and temper were noticeably improved. There were none of the quarrels and disturbances usually associated with mobilisation. The conduct of the troops was in every way irreproachable. The worries and work of the officers were lightened a hundredfold. Russia, in short, provided the world with an object lesson in the value of temperance. Of course there was some grumbling. Men who had tramped fifty versts or so to serve the “Little Father” thought that they were at least entitled to drink his health and damnation to the _Nemetz_. But generally the order of things was accepted with the unquestioning stolidness of the Russian peasant. The “Little Father” had said, “No vodka”--therefore, _nitchevo_, why complain? The following description of the actual mobilisation is based upon the letters written by Vasili Grigorovich, the cobbler of a little town in the Ukraine, to an English friend. The bond between this rather ill-assorted pair is Vasili’s unsatiable thirst for learning. Self-taught, he reads everything and anything that comes his way, and it was a chance conversation over an out-of-date newspaper during the mending of the traveller’s boot that led to the friendship.