The journey to Petrograd was uneventful. The train was crowded to overflowing with returning soldiers who engaged in arguments day and night. I was drawn into one such debate. Peace was the subject of all discussion, immediate peace.

“But how can you have peace while the Germans are occupying parts of Russia?” I broke in. “We must win a victory first or our country will be lost.”

“Ah, she is for the old regime. She wants the Tsar back,” murmured some soldiers threateningly.

The delegate accompanying me here advised me to keep silence if I wanted to arrive safely in Petrograd. I followed his advice. He left me at the station when we got to the capital. It was in the afternoon, and I had never been in Petrograd before. With the address of Rodzianko on my lips I went about making inquiries how to go there. I was directed to take a tram, the first I had ever ridden in.

About five in the afternoon I found myself in front of a big house. For a moment I lost courage. “What if he has forgotten me? He may not be at home and nobody will know anything about me.” I wanted to retreat, but where could I go? I knew no one in the city. Plucking up courage, I rang the bell and awaited the opening of the door with a trembling heart. A servant came out and I gave my name, with the information that I had just arrived from the front to see Rodzianko. I was taken up in a lift, a new experience to me, and was met by the secretary of the President. He greeted me warmly, saying that he had expected me, and invited me to make myself at home.

President Rodzianko then appeared, exclaiming cordially:

“My little heroine! I am glad you have come,” and he kissed me on the cheek. He then presented me to his wife as his little heroine, pointing to my military decorations. She was very cordial and generous in her praise. “You have come just in time for dinner,” she said, leading me into her dressing-room to remove the dust of the journey. This warm reception cheered me greatly.

At the table the conversation turned on the state of affairs at the front. Asked to tell of the latest developments, I said, as nearly as I can remember:

“The agitation to leave the trenches and go home is growing. If there is not an immediate offensive, all is lost. The soldiers will disperse. It is also an urgent necessity to send back to the fighting line the troops now scattered in the rear.”

Rodzianko answered as nearly as I can remember as follows:

“Orders have been given to many units in the rear to go to the front. All have not obeyed, however. There have been demonstrations and protests on the part of several troops, due to Bolshevist propaganda.”

That was the first time I ever heard of the Bolsheviks. It was May, 1917.

“Who are they?” I asked.

“They are a group led by one Lenin, who has just returned from abroad by way of Germany, and Trotsky, Kollontai and other political exiles. They attend the meetings of the Soviet at the Tauride Palace, in which the Duma meets, stir up class-bitterness and demand immediate peace.”

I was further asked how Kerensky then stood with the soldiers, being informed that he had just left for a tour of the front.

“Kerensky is very popular. In fact, the most popular man with the men at the front. The men will do anything for him,” I replied.

Rodzianko then related an incident which made us all laugh. There was an old porter in the Government offices who had served many Ministers of the Tsar. Kerensky, it appeared, made it a habit to shake hands with everybody. So that whenever he entered his office he shook hands with the old porter, thus quickly becoming the laughingstock of the servants.

“Now, what kind of a Minister is it,” the old porter was overheard complaining to a fellow-servant, “who shakes hands with me?”

After dinner Rodzianko took me to the Tauride Palace, where he introduced me to a gathering of soldiers’ delegates, then in session. I was warmly welcomed and given a prominent seat. The speakers gave descriptions of conditions at various sections of the front that tallied exactly with my own observations. Discipline was gone, fraternization was on the increase, the agitation to leave the trenches was gaining strength. Something must be done quickly, they argued. How could the men be kept up to the mark till the moment when an offensive should be ordered? That was the problem.

Rodzianko arose and proposed that I should be asked to suggest a solution. He told them that I was a peasant who had volunteered early in the war and fought and suffered with the men. Therefore, he thought, I ought to know what was the right thing to do. Naturally, I was very much embarrassed. I was totally unprepared to make any suggestions and, therefore, begged to be excused until I had thought the matter over.

The session continued, while I sank deep into thought. For half an hour I racked my brain in vain. Then suddenly an idea dawned upon me. It was the idea of a Women’s Battalion of Death.

“You have heard of what I have done and endured as a soldier,” I said, rising to my feet and turning to the audience. “Now, how would it do to organize three hundred women like myself to serve as an example to the army and lead the men into battle?”

Rodzianko approved of my idea. “Provided,” he added, “we could find hundreds more like Maria Bochkareva, which I greatly doubt.”

To this objection I replied that numbers were immaterial, that what was important was to shame the men, and that a few women at one place could serve as an example to the entire front. “It would be necessary that the women’s organization should have no committees and be run on the regular army basis in order to enable it to help towards the restoration of discipline,” I further explained.

Rodzianko thought my suggestion splendid and dwelt upon the enthusiasm that would inevitably be kindled among the men if women should occupy some of the trenches and take the lead in an offensive.

There were objections, however, from the audience. One delegate got up and said:

“None of us can take exception to a soldier like Bochkareva. The men at the front know her and have heard of her deeds. But who will guarantee that the other women will be as decent as she and will not dishonour the army?”

Another delegate remarked:

“Who will guarantee that the presence of women soldiers at the front will not lead to the birth there of little soldiers?”

There was a general uproar at this criticism. I replied:

“If I take up the organization of a women’s battalion, I will hold myself responsible for every member of it. I will introduce rigid discipline and will allow no speechmaking and no loitering in the streets. When Mother Russia is drowning it is not a time to run an army by committees. I am a common peasant myself, and I know that only discipline can save the Russian Army. In the proposed battalion I should exercise absolute authority and insist upon obedience. Otherwise, there would be no use in organizing it.”

There were no objections to the conditions which I outlined as preliminary to the establishment of such a unit. Still, I never expected that the Government would consider the matter seriously and permit me to carry out the idea, although I was informed that it would be submitted to Kerensky upon his return from the front.

President Rodzianko took a deep interest in the project. He introduced me to Captain Dementiev, Commandant of the Home for Invalids, asking him to place a room or two at my disposal and generally take care of me. I went home with the Captain, who presented me to his wife, a dear and patriotic woman who soon became very much attached to me.

The following morning Rodzianko telephoned, suggesting that before the matter was broached to the War Minister, Kerensky, it would be wise to take it up with the Commander-in-Chief, General Brusilov, who could judge it from the point of view of the army. If he approved of it, it would be easier to obtain Kerensky’s permission.

General Headquarters were then at Moghilev and there we went, Captain Dementiev and I, to obtain an audience with the Commander-in-Chief. We were received by his Adjutant on the 14th of May. He announced our arrival and purpose to General Brusilov, who ordered that we should be shown in.

Hardly a week had elapsed since I left the front, and here I was again, this time not in the trenches, however, but in the presence of the Commander-in-Chief. It was a very sudden metamorphosis and I could not help wondering, deep in my soul, over the strange ways of fortune. Brusilov shook hands with us cordially. He was interested in the idea, he said. Wouldn’t we sit down? We did. Wouldn’t I tell him about myself and my ideas concerning the scheme?

I told him about my soldiering and my leaving the front because I could not reconcile myself to the prevailing conditions. I explained that the purpose of the plan would be to shame the men in the trenches by letting them see the women go over the top first. The Commander-in-Chief then discussed the matter from various points of view with Captain Dementiev and approved of my idea. He bade us adieu, expressing his hope for the success of my enterprise, and, in a happy frame of mine, I left for Petrograd.

Kerensky had returned from the front. We called on Rodzianko and told him of the result of our mission. He informed us that he had already asked for an audience with Kerensky and that the latter wanted to see him at seven o’clock the following morning, when he would broach the subject to him. After his call on Kerensky, Rodzianko telephoned to tell us that he had arranged for an audience for me with Kerensky at the Winter Palace at noon the next day.

Captain Dementiev drove me to the Winter Palace, and a few minutes before twelve I was in the antechamber of the War Minister. I was surprised to find General Brusilov there, and he asked me if I had come to see Kerensky about the scheme I had discussed with him. I replied that I had. He offered to support my idea with the War Minister, and introduced me to General Polovtzev, Commander of the Petrograd Military District, who was with him.

Suddenly the door swung open and a young face, with eyes inflamed from sleeplessness, beckoned to me to come in. It was Kerensky, at that moment the idol of the masses. One of his arms was in a sling. With the other he shook my hand. He walked about nervously and talked briefly and dryly. He told me that he had heard about me and was interested in my idea. I then outlined to him the purpose of the project, saying that there would be no committees, but regular discipline in the battalion of women.

Kerensky listened impatiently. He had evidently made up his mind on the subject. There was only one point of which he was not sure. Would I be able to maintain a high standard of morality in the organization? He would allow me to recruit it immediately if I made myself answerable for the conduct and reputation of the women. I pledged myself to do so. And it was all settled. I was granted the authority there and then to form a unit under the name of The First Russian Women’s Battalion of Death.

It seemed unbelievable. A few days ago it had dawned upon me as a mere fancy. Now the dream was adopted as a practical policy by the highest in authority. I was in ecstasy. As Kerensky showed me out his eyes fell on General Polovtzev. He asked him to give me all necessary help. I was overwhelmed with happiness.

A brief consultation took place immediately between Captain Dementiev and General Polovtzev, who made the following suggestion:

“Why not start at the meeting to be held tomorrow night in the Mariinsky Theatre for the benefit of the Home? Kerensky, Rodzianko, Chkheidze, and others will speak there. Let us put Bochkareva between Rodzianko and Kerensky on the programme.”

I was seized with nervousness and objected strenuously that I could never appear in public and that I should not know what to talk about.

“You will tell them just what you told Rodzianko, Brusilov and Kerensky. Just tell them how you feel about the front and the country,” they said, making light of my objections.

Before I had time to realize it I was already in a photographer’s studio, and there had my portrait taken. The following day this picture appeared at the head of big posters pasted all over the city, announcing my appearance at the Mariinsky Theatre for the purpose of organizing a Women’s Battalion of Death.

I did not close an eye during the entire night preceding the evening fixed for the meeting. It all seemed a fantastic dream. How could I take my place between two such great men as Rodzianko and Kerensky? How could I ever face an assembly of educated people, I, an illiterate peasant woman? And what could I say? My tongue had never been trained to elegant speech. My eyes had never beheld a place like the Mariinsky Theatre, formerly frequented by the Tsar and the Imperial family. I tossed in bed in a state of fever.

“Holy Father,” I prayed, my eyes streaming with tears, “show Thy humble servant the path to truth. I am afraid; instil courage into my heart. I can feel my knees give way; steady them with Thy strength. My mind is groping in the dark; illumine it with Thy light. My speech is but the common talk of an ignorant baba; make it flow with Thy wisdom and penetrate the hearts of my hearers. Do all this, not for the sake of Thy humble Maria, but for the sake of Mother Russia, my unhappy country.”

My eyes were red with inflammation when I arose in the morning. I was nervous all day. Captain Dementiev suggested that I should commit my speech to memory. I refused his suggestion with the remark:

“I have placed my trust in God and rely on Him to put the right words into my mouth.”

It was the evening of May 21, 1917. I was driven to the Mariinsky Theatre and escorted by Captain Dementiev and his wife into the former Imperial box. The house was packed, the receipts of the ticket office amounting to thirty thousand roubles. Everybody seemed to be pointing at me, and it was with great difficulty that I controlled my nerves.

Kerensky appeared and was given a tremendous reception. He spoke only about ten minutes. Next on the programme was Madame Kerensky, and I was to follow her. Madame Kerensky, however, broke down as soon as she found herself confronted by the audience. That did not add to my courage. I was led forward as if in a trance.

“Men and women citizens!” I heard my voice say. “Our mother is perishing. Our mother is Russia. I want to help to save her. I want women whose hearts are loyal, whose souls are pure, whose aims are high. With such women setting an example of self-sacrifice, you men will realize your duty in this grave hour!”

Then I stopped and could not proceed. Sobs choked the words in me, tremors shook me, my legs grew weak. I was caught under the arm and led away amid a thunderous outburst of applause.

Registration of volunteers for the Battalion from among those present took place the same evening, there and then. So great was the enthusiasm that fifteen hundred women applied for enlistment. It was necessary to put quarters at my immediate disposal and it was decided to let me have the building and grounds of the Kolomensk Women’s Institute, and I directed the women to come there on the morrow, when they would be examined and officially enlisted.

The newspapers contained accounts of the meeting and the publicity which it gained helped to swell the number of women who volunteered to join the Battalion of Death to two thousand. They were gathered in the garden of the Institute, all in a state of jubilation. I arrived with Staff-Captain Kuzmin, assistant to General Polovtzev, Captain Dementiev and General Anosov, who was introduced to me as a man very interested in my idea. He looked about fifty years of age and was of impressive appearance. He wanted to help me, he explained. In addition, there was about a score of journalists. I mounted a table in the centre of the garden and addressed the women in the following manner:

“Women, do you know what I have called you here for? Do you realize clearly the task lying ahead of you? Do you know what war is? War! Look into your hearts, examine your souls and see if you can stand the great test.

“At a time when our country is perishing it is the duty of all of us to rise to its succour. The morale of our men has fallen low, and it is for us women to serve as an inspiration to them. But only such women as have entirely sacrificed their own personal interests and affairs can do this.

“Woman is naturally lighthearted. But if she can purge herself for sacrifice, then through a kindly word, a loving heart and an example of heroism she can save the Motherland. We are physically weak, but if we be strong morally and spiritually we shall accomplish more than a large force.

“I will have no committees in the Battalion. There will be strict discipline, and any offence will be severely punished. There will be punishment for even slight acts of disobedience. No flirtations will be allowed, and any attempts at them will be punished by expulsion and sending home under arrest. It is the purpose of this Battalion to restore discipline in the army. It must, therefore, be irreproachable in character. Now, are you willing to enlist under such conditions?”

“Yes, we are! we are! we are!” the women responded in a chorus.

“I will now ask those of you who accept my terms to sign a pledge, binding you to obey any order of Bochkareva. I warn you that I am stern by nature, that I shall personally punish any misdemeanour, that I shall demand absolute obedience. Those of you who hesitate had better not sign the pledge. There will now be a medical examination.”

There were nearly two thousand signed pledges. They included names of members of some of the most illustrious families in the country, as well as those of common peasant girls and domestic servants. The physical examination, conducted by ten doctors, some of whom were women, was not ruled by the same standard as that in the case of the men. There were, naturally, very few perfect specimens of health among the women. But we rejected only those suffering from serious ailments. Altogether there were about thirty rejections. Those accepted were allowed to go home with instructions to return on the following day when they would be quartered permanently in the Institute and begin training.

It was necessary to obtain outfits, and I applied for these to General Polovtzev, Commander of the Military District of Petrograd. The same evening two thousand complete outfits were delivered at my headquarters. I also asked General Polovtzev for twenty-five men instructors, who should be well disciplined, able to maintain good order and acquainted with every detail of military training, so as to be able to complete the course of instruction in two weeks. He sent me twenty-five officers of all grades from the Volynski Regiment.

Then there was the question of supplies. Were we to have our own kitchen? It was found more expedient not to establish one of our own but to make use of the kitchen of a guard regiment, stationed not far from our quarters. The ration was that of regular troops, consisting of two pounds of bread, cabbage soup, kasha (gruel), sugar and tea. I would send a company at a time, provided with pails, to fetch their meals.

On the morning of May 26 all the recruits gathered in the grounds of the Institute. I had them placed in rows, so as to arrange them according to their height, and divided the whole body into two battalions of approximately one thousand each. Each battalion was divided into four companies, and each company subdivided into four platoons. There was a man instructor in command of every platoon, and in addition there was an officer in command of every company, so that altogether I had to increase the number of men instructors to forty.

I addressed the women again, informing them that from the moment that they entered upon their duties they were no longer women, but soldiers. I told them that they would not be allowed to leave the grounds, and that only between six and eight in the evening would they be permitted to receive relatives and friends. From among the more intelligent recruits⁠—and there were many university graduates in the ranks⁠—I selected a number for promotion to platoon and company officers, their duties being limited to the domestic supervision of the troop, since the men commanders were purely instructors, returning to their barracks at the end of the day’s work.

Next I marched the recruits to four barbers’ shops, where from five in the morning to twelve at noon a number of barbers cut short the hair of one woman after another. Crowds outside the shops watched this unaccustomed proceeding, greeting with jeers each woman as she emerged, with hair close cropped and perhaps with an aching heart, from the barber’s saloon.

The same afternoon my soldiers received their first lessons in the large garden. A recruit was detailed to stand guard at the gate and not to admit anybody without the permission of the officer in charge. The watch was changed every two hours. A high fence surrounded the grounds, and the drilling went on without interference. Giggling was strictly forbidden, and I kept a sharp watch over the women. I had about thirty of them dismissed without ceremony the first day. Some were expelled for too much laughing, others for frivolities. Several of them threw themselves at my feet, begging for mercy. However, I made up my mind that without severity I might just as well give up my project at the beginning. If my word was to carry weight, it must be final and unalterable, I decided. How could one otherwise expect to manage two thousand women? As soon as one of them disobeyed an order I quickly removed her uniform and sent her away. In this work it was quality and not quantity that counted, and I determined if necessary to dismiss without scruple several hundreds of the recruits.

We received five hundred rifles for training purposes, sufficient only for a quarter of the force. This necessitated the elaboration of a method whereby the supply of rifles could be made use of by the entire body. It was thought well that the members of the Battalion of Death should be distinguished by special insignia. We, therefore, devised new epaulets: white, with a red and black stripe. A red and black arrowhead was to be attached to the right arm. I ordered two thousand such insignia.

When evening came and the hour for going to bed arrived, the women ignored the order to turn in for the night at ten o’clock and continued chatting and laughing. I reproved the officer in charge, threatening to place her at attention for six hours in the event of the soldiers keeping awake after ten. Fifty of the women I punished forthwith by ordering them to remain at attention for two hours. To the rest I said:

“Every one of you to bed this instant! I want you to be so quiet that I could hear a fly buzz. Tomorrow you will be up at five o’clock.”

I spent a sleepless night. There were many things to think about and many difficulties to overcome.

At five only the officer in charge was up. Not a soul stirred in the barrack. The officer reported to me that she had twice ordered the women to get up, but none of them moved. I came out and in a voice of thunder ordered:

“Vstavai!”3

Frightened and sleepy, my recruits left their beds. As soon as they had finished dressing and washing there was a summons to prayer. I made praying a daily duty. Breakfast followed, consisting of tea and bread.

At eight I had issued an order that the companies should all be formed into ranks ready for review in fifteen minutes. I came out, passed each company, greeting it. The company would answer in a chorus:

“Good health to you, Commander.”

Training was resumed, and I continued the combing-out process. As soon as I observed a girl making eyes at an instructor, behaving frivolously, and generally neglecting her work, I quickly ordered her to take off her uniform and go home. In this manner I weeded out about fifty on the second day. I could not insist too strongly on the burden of responsibility I carried. I constantly appealed to the women for the utmost seriousness in facing the task that lay before us. The Battalion must either be a success or I must become the laughingstock of the country, at the same time bringing disgrace upon those who had supported my idea. I admitted no new applicants, because rapid completion of the course of training so as to be able to dispatch the Battalion to the front was of the greatest importance.

For several days the drilling went on, and the women mastered the rudiments of a soldier’s training. On several occasions I resorted to slapping as punishment for misbehaviour.

One day the sentry reported to the officer in charge that two women, one a famous Englishwoman, wanted to see me. I ordered the Battalion to remain at attention while I received the two callers, who were Emmeline Pankhurst and Princess Kikuatova, the latter of whom I knew.

Mrs. Pankhurst was introduced to me, and I ordered the Battalion to salute “the eminent visitor who had done much for women and her country.” Mrs. Pankhurst became a frequent visitor of the Battalion, watching it with deep interest as it grew into a well-disciplined military unit. We became very much attached to each other. Mrs. Pankhurst invited me to a dinner at the Astoria, the leading hotel in Petrograd, at which Kerensky and the various Allied representatives in the capital were to be present.

Meanwhile, the Battalion was making rapid progress. At first we suffered little annoyance. The Bolshevik agitators did not take the project seriously, expecting it to come to a speedy end. At the beginning I received only about thirty threatening letters. Gradually, however, it became known that I maintained the strictest discipline, commanding without a committee; and the propagandists began to regard me as a danger, and sought a means for the frustration of my scheme.

On the evening appointed for the dinner I went to the Astoria. There Kerensky was very cordial to me. He told me that the Bolsheviks were preparing a demonstration against the Provisional Government and that at first the Petrograd garrison had consented to organize a demonstration in favour of the Government. Later, however, the garrison had decided not to march. The War Minister then asked me if I would march with the Battalion in support of the Provisional Government.

I gladly accepted the invitation. Kerensky told me that the Women’s Battalion had already exerted a beneficial influence, that several bodies of troops had expressed a willingness to leave for the front, that many of the wounded had organized themselves for the purpose of going to the fighting line, declaring that if women could fight, then they⁠—the cripples⁠—would do so, too. Finally he expressed his belief that the announcement of the marching of the Battalion of Death would stimulate the garrison to follow suit.

It was a pleasant evening that I spent at the Astoria. Upon leaving, an acquaintance who was going in the same direction offered to drive me to the Institute. I accepted the invitation, alighting, however, at a little distance from headquarters, as I did not wish him to drive out of his way. It was about eleven o’clock when I approached the temporary barrack. There was a small crowd at the gate, about thirty-five men, of all descriptions, soldiers, roughs, vagrants, and even some decent looking fellows.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” I questioned sharply.

“Commander,” cried the sentry, “they are waiting for you. They have been here more than an hour; they broke through the gate and have been searching the grounds and the house for you. When they became convinced that you were away they decided to wait here for your return.”

“Well, what do you want?” I demanded of the group as they surrounded me.

“What do we want, eh? We want you to disband the Battalion. We have had enough of this discipline. Enough blood has been shed. We don’t want any more armies and militarism. You are only creating new troubles for the common people. Disband your Battalion and we will leave you alone.”

“I will not disband!” was my answer.

Several of them pulled out revolvers and threatened to kill me. The sentry raised an alarm and all the women appeared at the windows, many of them with their rifles ready.

“Listen,” a couple of them argued again, “you are of the people and we only want the weal of the common man. We want peace, not war. And you are inciting to war again. We have had enough war, too much war. We now understand the uselessness of war. Surely you don’t like to see the poor people slaughtered for the sake of the few rich. Come, join our side, and let us all work for peace.”

“You are scoundrels!” I shouted with all my strength. “You are idiots! I myself am for peace, but we shall never have peace till we have driven the Germans out of Russia. They will make slaves of us and ruin our country and our freedom. You are traitors!”

Suddenly I was kicked violently in the back. Someone dealt me a second blow from the side.

“Fire!” I shouted to my girls at the windows as I was knocked down, mindful that I had instructed them always to shoot in the air first as a warning.

Several hundred rifles rang out in a volley. My assailants quickly dispersed, and I was safe. However, they returned during the night and stoned the windows, breaking every pane of glass fronting the street.