Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- Acknowledgements
- Note on Russian Names
- Map
- Introduction
- Death Tramples upon Death
- Private Maxim Kuzhel Has the Floor
- The Blaze Spreads and Rages
- On the River Kuban
- The Black Epaulette
- The Conquerors’ Banquet
- Bitter Hangover
- Etudes
- The Town of Klyukvin
- The Village of Khomutovo
- Might Is Right
- Glossary
Bitter Hangover
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 23 February 2022
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- Acknowledgements
- Note on Russian Names
- Map
- Introduction
- Death Tramples upon Death
- Private Maxim Kuzhel Has the Floor
- The Blaze Spreads and Rages
- On the River Kuban
- The Black Epaulette
- The Conquerors’ Banquet
- Bitter Hangover
- Etudes
- The Town of Klyukvin
- The Village of Khomutovo
- Might Is Right
- Glossary
Summary
Revolution in Russia –
fevered villages, delirious towns.
The army was assailed by lice,
the army was dying.
Autumn brought lashing rains, lead and blood.
Unharvested crops, infested with weeds, were laid as flat as felt. The orphaned grain fields were trampled by cavalry, devastated by swarms of mice and pecked clean by passing birds. The crimson banners of fires fluttered over the lands of the Kuban, the Terek and Stavropol. The Reds were setting fire to the homesteads and stanitsas of rebellious Cossacks; the Whites were laying waste peasant villages and workers’ settlements.
Winter was drawing in.
From the north, cold winds were more and more frequent, stripping the orchards bare and rustling the dead grass in the steppes. Morning frosts set in, covering puddles with the first fragile ice.
The troops were short of clothes and footwear.
Along the same routes, the same roads as the army, the typhus-bearing louse came crawling. The fit could manage to fight it off; the sick could not.
Mineralnye Vody
Pyatigorsk
Vladikavkaz
Grozny
Svyatoi Krest
Kizlyar
Chyorny Rynok
Long will the living remember those bloody landmarks.
In all the towns and villages, farmsteads and stanitsas the fleeing army left thousands upon thousands of wounded, ailing and sick to their fate. The commandants posted sentries at the doors of the field hospitals, with orders to let nobody out.
Those strong enough to go on came in to bid their farewells: ‘Don't worry, brothers … We’re going to withdraw for two or three days, then we’ll be back.’
‘You’re lying, soldier! You brought us here and sold us out … The cadets will cut us all to pieces.’
‘They won't touch you. They wouldn't dare harm a wounded man.’
‘If it was you lying here with a bullet in your chest you’d sing a different tune.’
‘I’m telling you we’ll be back soon. Just wait.’
‘Wait for who, and what? A hangman and a noose?’
Men began jumping up from the beds.
‘Brothers, get ready to move out!’
‘Where are you going? Why are you getting up? We’ve no horses, no warm clothing. The bridges in the rear are down. We’ve nothing to feed you with and no food for ourselves. In your condition none of you will survive the journey.’
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- Chapter
- Information
- Russia Washed in BloodA Novel in Fragments, pp. 165 - 200Publisher: Anthem PressPrint publication year: 2020