The hour of our release from the concentration camp struck. But we were released with the application of violence. We were simply ordered to lay down our things and go under escort. We demanded that we be told where we were being sent and why. They refused. The prisoners worried that they were taking us to the fortress. We demanded a call to the nearest Russian consul. They refused.
We had good reason to distrust the good intentions of these gentlemen from the great sea road. We said that we wouldn’t go voluntarily until they told us the reason for the new trip. The commandant ordered the use of force. The escorting soldiers carried our luggage. We stubbornly laid on our bunks. And only when the convoy was faced with carrying us out with their own hands, like we were carried out of the steamer a month before, and this time through a crowd of agitated sailors, the commandant yielded. He declared in his own Anglo-colonial style that he was putting us on a Danish steamer set for Russia. The colonel’s face convulsively twitched. He didn’t want to accept the idea that we were escaping his grasp. We would have taken him on the African coast!
Imprisoned comrades gave us solemn farewells as we were led away from the camp. Upon leaving I threatened the British police officer Mekken, who arrested us and came to our departure, that first thing I will request in the Constituent Assembly is for Foreign Minister Milyukov inquire into the mistreatment of Russian citizens by the Anglo-Canadian police.
"I hope," answered the resourceful police officer, "that you won’t get to the Constituent Assembly."
I’m going to Kharkov, having accidentally bought a first-class ticket to Kiev. This ticket suited me perfectly until Kursk. I slept soundly in my top bunk, and no more than a dozen soldiers climbed into the corridor and they were very well behaved. See more
I met him in the evening with GilbeauxHenri Gilbeaux is a French socialist poet, publicist and politician.. He’d become younger, more energetic. After all, the triumph of the Bolsheviks belonged to him too. He told us unbelievable stories about the Bolsheviks in Bern’s community hall until 2 in the morning. He talked about how the “sealed carriage” travelled across Germany.
Since the revolutionary drama began, not a day has passed without its ceremonies, processions, charity performances and "triumphs." There has been an uninterrupted series of demonstrations, demonstrations of victory or protest demonstrations, inaugural, expiatory and valedictory. The Slav soul, with its vague and fervent sensibilities, its intuitive notion of the bond of humanity and its violent passion for æsthetic and picturesque emotions, revels and wallows in them. See more
During the night the temperature went down to 3 degrees of frost; beside that, a cold wind was blowing. At 11 o'clock we went to Ifess. I walked with Tatiana and read until dinner to myself-and in the evening to the children,