Frightened and sleepy, my recruits left their beds. As soon as they had finished dressing and washing there was a summons to prayer. I made praying a daily duty. Breakfast followed, consisting of tea and bread. At eight I had issued an order that the companies should all be formed into ranks ready for review in fifteen minutes. I came out, passed each company, greeting it. The company would answer in a chorus: “Good health to you, Commander.” Training was resumed, and I continued the combing-out process. As soon as I observed a girl making eyes at an instructor, behaving frivolously, and generally neglecting her work, I quickly ordered her to take off her uniform and go home. In this manner I weeded out about fifty on the second day. I could not insist too strongly on the burden of responsibility I carried. I constantly appealed to the women for the utmost seriousness in facing the task that lay before us. The Battalion must either be a success or I must become the laughing-stock of the country, at the same time bringing disgrace upon those who had supported my idea. I admitted no new applicants, because rapid completion of the course of training so as to be able to dispatch the Battalion to the front was of the greatest importance. For several days the drilling went on, and the women mastered the rudiments of a soldier’s training. On several occasions I resorted to slapping as punishment for misbehaviour. One day the sentry reported to the officer in charge that two women, one a famous Englishwoman, wanted to see me. I ordered the Battalion to remain at attention while I received the two callers, who were Emmeline Pankhurst and Princess Kikuatova, the latter of whom I knew. Mrs. Pankhurst was introduced to me, and I ordered the Battalion to salute “the eminent visitor who had done much for women and her country.” Mrs. Pankhurst became a frequent visitor of the Battalion, watching it with deep interest as it grew into a well-disciplined military unit. We became very much attached to each other. Mrs. Pankhurst invited me to a dinner at the Astoria, the leading hotel in Petrograd, at which Kerensky and the various Allied representatives in the capital were to be present. Meanwhile, the Battalion was making rapid progress. At first we suffered little annoyance. The Bolshevik agitators did not take the project seriously, expecting it to come to a speedy end. At the beginning I received only about thirty threatening letters. Gradually, however, it became known that I maintained the strictest discipline, commanding without a committee; and the propagandists began to regard me as a danger, and sought a means for the frustration of my scheme.