Yashka : $b My life as peasant, exile and soldierBochkareva, Mariia
History
Yashka : $b My life as peasant, exile and soldier
Bochkareva, Mariia
Soviet Union -- History -- Revolution, 1917-1921; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, Russian
Through the din and crash of the bombardment we suddenly caught the
sound of a great commotion in the rear. Was it a feeling of shame that
stirred them from their lethargy? Or was it the sight of this handful
of intrepid souls that aroused their spirit? Anyhow, they were roused
at last. Numbers had already climbed over the top and were running
forward with shouts, and in a few moments the front to the right and
left of us became a swaying mass of soldiers. First our regiment poured
out and then, on both sides, the contagion spread and unit after unit
joined in the advance, so that the entire corps was on the move.
We swept forward and overwhelmed the first German line, and then the
second. Our regiment alone captured two thousand prisoners. But there
was poison awaiting us in that second line of trenches. Vodka and beer
were in abundance. Half of our force got drunk forthwith, throwing
themselves ravenously on the alcohol. My girls did splendid work here,
destroying the stores of liquor at my orders. But for that, the whole
regiment would have been drunk. I rushed about appealing to the men to
stop drinking.
“Are you mad?” I pleaded. “We must take the third line yet, and then
the Ninth Corps will come to relieve us and keep up the push.”
I realized that the opportunity was too precious to be lost. “We must
take the third line and make a breach in their defences,” I thought,
“so as to turn this blow into a general offensive.”
But the men were succumbing one by one to the terrible curse. And
there were the wounded to be taken care of. Some of my girls were
killed outright, many were wounded. The latter almost all behaved
like Stoics. I can see, even now, the face of Klipatskaya, one of my
soldiers, lying in a pool of blood. I ran up to her and tried to help
her, but it was too late. She had twelve wounds, from bullets and
shrapnel. Smiling faintly her last smile, she said:
“My dear, it’s no matter.”
The Germans organized a counter-attack at this moment. It was a
critical time, but we met the shock of the attack with our bayonets.
As usual in such cases, the enemy turned and fled. We pursued them and
swept them out of their third line, driving them into the woods ahead
of us.
We had hardly occupied the enemy’s third line when orders came by
field telephone from the Commander to keep up the pursuit so as not
to allow the Germans to entrench themselves, with a promise that the
supporting corps would start out immediately. We cautiously sent some
patrols into the woods to find out the strength of the enemy. I led one
such scouting party, and was able to detect that the German force was
being slowly but steadily augmented. It was then decided that we should
immediately advance into the forest and occupy positions there till
reinforcements arrived enabling us to resume the advance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account