“We have demanded more than once the resignation of Lenin and Trotzky. There were large majorities against them at several elections. But they are supported by the Red Guard and keep themselves in power in spite of the will of the people. The peasants are against them almost to a man.” “The more reason why you should act,” I said. “Something ought to be done!” “What? Tell us what!” several inquired. “Even to get together, for instance, and re-establish the front!” I suggested. “We would, but we have nobody we can trust to lead us. All our good people are fighting among themselves,” they argued. “Besides, we should need arms and food.” “You just said that the Allies were our friends. Suppose we asked them to send us arms and food and help us to reorganize the front, would you be willing to fight the Germans again?” I inquired. “Yes,” answered some, “we would.” “No,” replied others; “what if the Allies got into Russia and wanted to take advantage of us, like the Germans?” “Well, you must elect your own leader to co-operate with the Allies only on condition that we fight till we defeat the enemy and finish the war,” I proposed. “But whom could we choose as our leader?” the men persisted. “All our chiefs are divided. Some are reputed to be monarchists. Others are said to be exploiters of the poor working people. Others are declared to be German agents. Where could we find a man who did not belong to one or other of these parties?” “What if I, for instance, took charge, and became your leader?” I ventured to ask. “Would you follow me?” “Yes, yes!” they cried. “We could trust you. You are a peasant yourself. But what could you do?” “What could I do? You know that these scoundrels are destroying Russia. The Germans are seizing everything they can lay hold on. I would try to restore the front!” “But how?” they asked. At this moment, the idea of going to America originated in my mind. We had all heard that America was now one of the Allies. “What if I should go to America to ask there for help?” I ventured. My companions all burst out laughing. America is so remote and so unreal to the Russian peasant. It did not sound like a practical proposition to the soldiers. But they raised only one objection. “How would you ever get there? The Bolsheviks and Red Guards will never let you out of the country,” they said. “But if I did get there and to the other Allies,” I insisted, “and came back with an army and equipment, would you join me then, and would you persuade all your friends to come with you?” “Yes, we would! Yes! We know that you could not be bought. You are one of us!” they shouted. “In that event, I will go to America!” I announced resolutely, there and then making up my mind to go. The soldiers would not believe me. When we reached Petrograd, and I parted from them affectionately, with their blessings following me, I did not forget to warn them to remember their pledge upon hearing of my return from foreign lands with troops.