The Russian Century: A Hundred Years of Russian Lives

“Don’t hold us up on our way back, and most of all, don’t confiscate our flour. Goodbye, Petr. A low bow from me to Aunt Mariia. Goodbye, Pavel. Nice to see you again. You and I lived through things which are hard to forget. Goodbye, friends. Here’s hoping we’ll see each other again in this life. Thank you for your kind, humane treatment.”

We shook everyone’s hand. The commissar tried to detain us. “Wait a bit,” he said.

“No, no. We can’t. We’ve stayed too long as it is. We’ll never catch our crew.”

It was dark now. We turned and walked away at a rapid rate. The commissar began to talk with his cronies. We were almost beyond their field of vision.

“Run, on your toes” (to muffle our footfalls), whispered my brother. We sprinted for all we were worth in order to put as much distance between them and us as possible.

“To the right, into the wheat, zig-zag and then hit the ground.” We ran into the high wheat and zig-zagged not to leave a clear trail, hit the ground, covered our faces with our sleeves and froze. (A moonlit face is very visible.)

Right away horsemen galloped down the road. Searching for us. They galloped past us, returned, and swept into the wheat fields. We heard muffled voices and horses rustling through the wheat. Then it grew quiet. We did not move. They might have set and ambush. An endlessly long time went by. Can one measure such moments? I heard a faint rustling in the stalks, looked up carefully—it was a hare. “If it’s a hare,” I thought, “then chances are there are no men.” I took off my cap, raised myself no higher than the wheat, looked about with one eye, listening intensely. Silence. Then I whistled softly as we did when hunting. My brother answered. We found each other.

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Chapter Fifteen

“Only not the road. We’ll cut through the wheat.” After an hour we saw several huts. One of them had a feeble light. An old woman was baking bread. She gave us milk and indicated the border: a small river.

We caught two horses from a herd and crossed the river on them. We were in the Ukraine. Then we collapsed beneath some bushes and fell asleep. That night we had walked more than sixty versts. Our feet were chafed raw.

In the evening we came to Iampol, where we met our three Germans. They got us a pass from the German commandant.

A bottle of vodka for two lives, not a bad deal. Since that time vodka became something akin to the water of life for me. I owe my very being to it. I also fondly remember my brother’s cool-headed resourcefulness. He got us out of a deathtrap.

IN JEOPARDY [SEVERAL MONTHS LATER]

We had been on the march. Before us lay the large industrial city of Iuzovka (later Stalino). The sluggish river Kal’mius flowed here. This was a historical river, once called Kalka. On its shores in 1223 the Russians first encountered the Tatars and Mongols and were crushed by them.

Just at that time Red headquarters decided to stage a huge two-pronged assault. One prong was directed at Novocherkassk from the east and the other at Mospino, right where we were. The two prongs were to meet and envelop the Don and the Volunteer armies in a pincers.

In total ignorance of the responsibility which had fallen on our meager force we crossed the river and positioned our two field pieces some fifty strides to the left of the bridge. The rolling hills in front of us were occupied by infantry of the Markovets Regiment. The weather was wonderful, no gunfire was heard and we spread ourselves on the grass. I let my horse Dura graze, Kolzakov and Shapilovskii were on a hill in front of the battery. They were connected to us by a chain of scouts who would pass orders.

Everything seemed peaceful and quiet but suddenly artillery shells began to burst near the battery. The Reds could not see us but they suspected the battery’s location. Whenever a shell burst we would throw a lump of dirt at a sleeping comrade. He’d leap up in fright, thinking that he was wounded.

But the Reds’ shells came with increased frequency and we weren’t laughing anymore. They had to be firing at a great distance, because we could not hear the reports.

Then suddenly four armored cars appeared. Our infantry collapsed into the tall grass and let them by. They headed for us. We began firing directly at them. They sprayed us with machine-gun fire. This lasted for the longest ten

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minutes, maybe longer. But despite the close distance we could not knock out an armored car nor could they inflict any losses. When you are nervous, your aim is off.