Yashka : $b My life as peasant, exile and soldier — John Shaqi
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
“Think what the men will do to a solitary woman in their midst,” they
argued. “Why, they’ll make a prostitute of you. They will kill you
secretly, and nobody will ever find a trace of you. Only the other day
they found the body of a woman along the railroad track, thrown out of
a troop-train. You have always been such a sensible girl. What has come
over you? And what will become of your parents? They are old and weak,
and you are their only hope. They always said that when Marusia came
back they would end their lives in peace. Now you are shortening their
days, driving them to their graves in sorrow.”
For a little while I hesitated again. The fierce struggle in my bosom
between the two conflicting calls was renewed. But I held by my
decision, remaining deaf to all entreaty. Then my mother grew angry
and, crying out at the top of her voice, she shouted:
“You are no longer my daughter! You have forfeited your mother’s love.”
With a heavy heart I left the house for the barracks. The Commander of
the Company did not expect me, and I had to explain to him why I could
not pass that night at home. He assigned to me a place in the general
sleeping-room ordering the men not to molest me. On my right and on my
left were soldiers, and that first night in the company of men will
ever stand out in my memory. I did not close my eyes once during the
night.
The men were, naturally, unaccustomed to such a strange creature as
myself and took me for a woman of loose morals who had made her way
into the ranks for the sake of carrying on her illicit trade. I was,
therefore, compelled constantly to fight off intrusions from all sides.
As soon as I made an effort to shut my eyes I would discover the arm
of my left-hand-neighbour round my neck, and would restore it to its
owner with a push. While keeping an eye on his movements, however, I
offered an opportunity for my neighbour on the right to get too near
to me, and I would savagely kick him in the side. All night long my
nerves were taut and my fists busy. Toward dawn I was so exhausted that
I nearly fell asleep, when I discovered a hand on my chest, and before
the man realized my intention, I struck him in the face. I continued to
rain blows till the bell rang at five o’clock, the hour for rising.
Ten minutes were given us to dress and wash, tardiness being punished
by a rebuke. At the end of ten minutes the ranks formed and every
soldier’s hands, ears and foot-rags were inspected. I was in such haste
to be in time that I put my trousers on inside out, provoking roars of
laughter.
The day began with a prayer for the Tsar and country, following which
every one of us received the daily allowance of two-and-a-half pounds
of bread and a few cubes of sugar from our respective squad commanders.
There were four squads to a company. Our breakfast consisted of bread
and tea and lasted half an hour.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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