“Nothing can help you now,” he said. “The authorities are powerless. Orders are not worth the paper on which they are issued. I am going now to Verkhovsky, the new War Minister. Would you like to come with me?” On the way we discussed Verkhovsky’s appointment. He was the same man who, as Commander of the Moscow Military District, had rescued me from the mob at Moscow some weeks before. He was a very popular leader and had considerable influence with the soldiers. “Perhaps if he had been appointed some months ago he might have saved the army. But it is too late now,” said Vasilkovsky. When we arrived at the War Ministry, we found that Kerensky was in Verkhovsky’s study. We were announced, and I was asked to come in first. As I opened the door I saw immediately that all was lost. The Prime Minister and the War Minister were both standing. They presented a pathetic, heart-breaking sight. Kerensky looked like a corpse. There was not a vestige of colour in his face. His eyes were red as if he had not slept for nights. Verkhovsky seemed to me like a man who is drowning, reaching for help. My heart sank. War had made me callous, and I was seldom shocked. But this time I was nearly overcome by the sight of these two agonized figures. I saw the agony of Russia reflected in their despairing faces. They made an effort to smile, but it was a failure. The War Minister then inquired how things were at the front. “We heard you were roughly treated,” he said. I gave a detailed account of everything that I had myself witnessed and experienced. I told them in detail about the lynching of Colonel Belonogov, of the officer who tried to defend me, of the bayoneting of my girl, of the machine guns that were turned on me because I wounded one of the enemy. Kerensky seized his head in his hands and cried out: “Oh, horror! horror! We are perishing! We are drowning!” There was a tense, painful pause. I ended my story with the suggestion that action was urgently needed or all would be wrecked. “Yes, action is needed, but what action? What is to be done now? What would you do if you were to be given authority over the army? You are a common soldier, tell me what you would do?” “It is too late now,” I answered after thinking a little time. “Two months ago I could have accomplished a great deal. Then they still respected me. Now they hate me.” “Ah!” exclaimed the War Minister. “Two months ago I might have saved the situation myself, if I had only been here then!” We then discussed the purpose of my journey. I asked for a transfer to a more active part of the front and for a certificate that the Battalion was to be run without committees. This certificate I obtained from the War Minister without delay, and I still have it in my possession. He also agreed to my first request and promised to look into the matter and issue orders for my transfer.