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Non-fiction

Project 1917 is a series of events that took place a hundred years ago as described by those involved. It is composed only of diaries, letters, memoirs, newspapers and other documents
Colonel Auscn, the Commander of the 1st Lett Brigade, one of the best officers in the army, 
was forced to resign because, as a good soldier, he took no interest in politics, and General 
Radko Dimitriev, while sighing over the loss of such an officer, considered it politic to meet 
the wishes of the men. 
The men of a regiment of the 1st Caucasian Rifle Division, when asked why they objected to 
their commanding officer, said : “He worries us. He wants the regiment to be always first in 
the division. When we are in the trenches he does not want the regiment to be relieved, and 
when we are in reserve he wants to get back to the trenches.” This officer had to give up his 
com­mand ! 
<…> 
There was a general illogical mistrust of the Command, and the credulity of the men was 
fantastic. A N.G.O. of the 144th Regiment told me that he had himself counted 14,000 head 
of cattle that were driven to the front by order of the old Govern­ment in order that they might 
fall into the hands of the Germans when Vilna was evacuated in September, 1915. The men of 
the 138th Division expelled the Commander, the Chief of Staff and two out of the four 
regiment commanders, the objection to two of them being that they had German names—and 
yet these very soldiers were ready to fraternise freely with the Germans. 
The men were childlike in their ignorance. General Yermolyaev, the Adjutant-General of the 
Northern Front, spent two hours every morning trying to reason with them. Over a month 
after the Revolution he asked a man just returned from leave what the news was in his 
village, and the reply was : “ Nothing, except some agitators came from another village and 
said that the Tsar had been turned out, and suchlike nonsense, but we caught them and beat 
them.” 
Much could still be done by officers of adaptable temper to regain the confidence of the rank 
and file, but the methods em­ployed were obviously unsuited to moments of excitement and 
danger, and in any case involved much waste of time. 
On another occasion the same Colonel heard that the men of a company wanted to get rid of 
their Commander. He went to the company and asked : 
“ You want to get rid of your Commander ? Very good, that is your affair, but tell me, 
brothers, why you dislike him ? ”  
“He hit one man in the face.” 
“ Dear me, did he, and when was that ? ” 
“A year ago.” 
“ Now, whom did he hit ? ” 
“ He hit Bublikov.” 
“ Where is Bublikov? ”  
“ Here,”said the organiser of the whole affair. 
“ So he hit you, Bublikov ? ” 
“ Yes, he did.” 
“ That is very wrong. And why did he hit you, Bublikov ? ” 
Bublikov was silent, but some of the men near him smiled. The Colonel repeated the 
question, and asked if anyone knew why Bublikov was hit. At last the story came out : “It 
was in the fighting last July. The Captain told Bublikov to go to bring up cartridges, and 
Bublikov said, ‘ I don’t want to go,’ and then the Captain hit him.’’ “ And why did not 
Bublikov wish to go ? ’’ “Because the Germans were firing heavily.” 
“ Was it necessary for the company to bring up cartridges ? ”  
“Yes, for there were very few left.” “ 
Then Bublikov should have gone to fetch them ? ” 
“ Quite right, Mr. Colonel.” 
“ Then don’t you think the Captain should be forgiven, for he was only thinking of the 
com­pany being left without cartridges ? ”  
“ Quite right, for Bublikov should have fetched them, it being a military duty, but, as the 
firing was heavy, he did not wish to go.
✍    Also today

On Easter Saturday I communed with them, perhaps for the last time. The thought of this really moved me. When I returned, I found a magnificent lilac in my room. The Empress had sent me some Easter eggs and a pillow which she had knitted, together with the wounded officers in her infirmary. Easter Matin was solemn, and oh so sad!

Munition workers, oddly enough, tended to be pacifists. My speeches to munition workers in South Wales, all of which were inaccurately reported by detectives, caused the War Office to issue an order that I should not be any prohibited area. The prohibited areas were those into which it was particularly desired that no spies should penetrate. See more

I’m in a very difficult position here. Leading a war and handling domestic politics, while trying to reconcile two such mutually exclusive tasks, amounts to a kind of monstrous compromise. The latter goes against my nature and psyche, and on top of that, I’m having to fight an internal struggle. This complicates everything to the extreme, and domestic politics is growing like a snowball rolling down a hill and is evidently engulfing the war. It’s a shared, unpleasant phenomenon which lies in the deeply non-military nature of the masses, who’ve been impregnated by abstract, lifeless ideas of social doctrines (but of what kind?!).

I find it most interesting to talk to simple people. I recently spoke at a rally in one of the dark outlying regions of the city, where mayhem threatens to creep out on every turbulent day. The audience was attentive. With a glance, I picked out two or three faces with especially uncultured features and spoke as if they were the only people there. It fascinated me. When I saw the attention, followed by interest, curiosity and agreement as I continued, it inspired thought and imagination. I am now working on a pop brochure for the nation, in which I show how the last Romanov broke down and destroyed the autocratic idol (and other expressions).

Sergei Pavlovich literally flew into the lobby of the hotel and passionately embraced Nijinsky: "Vatsa, dear, how are you?". The embrace turned out to be so gentle and sincere, as if there had never been an argument between them. It was the real Diaghilev of the past days. They retired to a corner and talked hours and hours, and it seemed that the old friendship had been restored. Since that day, we spent literally all the time with Diaghilev. See more

War prevents me from working on my paintings. I have to work on smaller orders that bring me quick money, thereby allowing me to pay the bills.

Though the average age of the Russian commanders was, grade for grade, younger than that   of the opposing German leaders, it had always been considered that the principle of selec­tion  had never been given sufficiently free play in the Russian army, and that young and able men had been unfairly kept back.Guchkov and Alexyeev now made sweeping changes.
See more

Three French socialist deputies, Montet, Cachin and Lafont, arrived from Paris yesterday evening, travelling via Bergen and Tornea; they have come to preach wisdom and patriotism to the Soviet. They are accompanied by two members of the British Labour Party, O'Grady and Thorne. See more