The Accidental Anarchist Read Online Free Page B
Author: Bryna Kranzler
which I stood trial.
Only when the captain had, at last, finished delivering his heartfelt harangue and seemed ready to sit down did he briefly take note of “the so-called defendant.” True, he conceded, perhaps a more experienced soldier might have tried to moderate his righteous anger. But as what I had done was so patently an attempt to defend the honor and security of the Czar, Captain Mikhailoff simply failed to comprehend why it was me and not the other man who was on trial. Much as I wanted to agree with my defender, even I had to admit that his argument lacked logic, not to mention common sense.
But to my astonishment, the judge showed himself to be totally persuaded by this line of reasoning. While I was let off with the most gentle of reprimands, Pyotr, my opponent, who hadn't been accused of anything, suddenly found himself reduced in rank. But that was not the last to be heard of him.
How much this verdict cost my brother, he never let on. For all I knew, my advocate may have defended me in all sincerity. But the outcome certainly made me a good deal more tolerant toward the all-pervasive atmosphere of corruption in the Russian army. Without this constant lubrication of the wheels, the most appalling injustices would have passed unnoticed, and men in positions of power might never have felt the slightest inducement to lift a finger for another soul.
Chapter 4: The Fall of ‘Haman’
After some months of basic training in the so-called “Convicts’ Company,” which Mordechai felt I was in danger of enjoying more than was appropriate for a boy of my refined background, I was unexpectedly transferred to the regimental tailor shop. Here out of eight men, two (including Glasnik) were actually tailors and therefore obliged to cover for the rest of us. However, no one complained because it was apparent that each of us must have had some pull with the natchalstva . Mordechai hoped that having me assigned to this platoon of 118 men, 42 of whom were Jews, would keep me out of further brawls and courts martial. (The biggest joke of all, as I read years later, was that at this very time the proportion of Jews in the Russian army and navy was almost forty percent greater than its proportion of the population. The reason for this I'll leave to greater philosophers to figure out.)
To my brother’s dismay, within less than a month I began to crave some outlet for my youthful energies and thirst for new experiences. Against Mordechai’s vehement advice, I applied successfully for a transfer to the 14th Company, which was under the command of my defender, Captain Mikhailoff. It was, after all, peacetime and while life in the infantry might have been a little more strenuous than smoking my pipe in the tailor shop, being among real soldiers was as exciting for me as going to summer camp would be to an American child.
Our noble Mikhailoff was a man who not only enjoyed life, but also did not begrudge others. He believed, for example, that in peacetime there was little sense in tormenting your men with a lot of useless exercises. So, while some companies were sent on field maneuvers, forced marches and other entertainments of that sort, our excellent captain took us to a shady spot in the woods where we were permitted to amuse ourselves with such leisure activities as trick riding and marksmanship. While we were well aware of our good fortune in having such a humane and easygoing company commander, we continued to talk among ourselves of the necessity of overthrowing our abominable Czar, Nicolai Alexandrovich, and abolishing such instruments of tyranny as the army.
In anticipation of the revolution, and thanks to Mikhailoff's generosity with ammunition, we soon became so handy with our rifles and horses that we routinely won a good many of those regimental competitions on whose outcomes our officers loved to place wagers. In fact, we did Captain Mikhailoff so proud that he was
Only when the captain had, at last, finished delivering his heartfelt harangue and seemed ready to sit down did he briefly take note of “the so-called defendant.” True, he conceded, perhaps a more experienced soldier might have tried to moderate his righteous anger. But as what I had done was so patently an attempt to defend the honor and security of the Czar, Captain Mikhailoff simply failed to comprehend why it was me and not the other man who was on trial. Much as I wanted to agree with my defender, even I had to admit that his argument lacked logic, not to mention common sense.
But to my astonishment, the judge showed himself to be totally persuaded by this line of reasoning. While I was let off with the most gentle of reprimands, Pyotr, my opponent, who hadn't been accused of anything, suddenly found himself reduced in rank. But that was not the last to be heard of him.
How much this verdict cost my brother, he never let on. For all I knew, my advocate may have defended me in all sincerity. But the outcome certainly made me a good deal more tolerant toward the all-pervasive atmosphere of corruption in the Russian army. Without this constant lubrication of the wheels, the most appalling injustices would have passed unnoticed, and men in positions of power might never have felt the slightest inducement to lift a finger for another soul.
Chapter 4: The Fall of ‘Haman’
After some months of basic training in the so-called “Convicts’ Company,” which Mordechai felt I was in danger of enjoying more than was appropriate for a boy of my refined background, I was unexpectedly transferred to the regimental tailor shop. Here out of eight men, two (including Glasnik) were actually tailors and therefore obliged to cover for the rest of us. However, no one complained because it was apparent that each of us must have had some pull with the natchalstva . Mordechai hoped that having me assigned to this platoon of 118 men, 42 of whom were Jews, would keep me out of further brawls and courts martial. (The biggest joke of all, as I read years later, was that at this very time the proportion of Jews in the Russian army and navy was almost forty percent greater than its proportion of the population. The reason for this I'll leave to greater philosophers to figure out.)
To my brother’s dismay, within less than a month I began to crave some outlet for my youthful energies and thirst for new experiences. Against Mordechai’s vehement advice, I applied successfully for a transfer to the 14th Company, which was under the command of my defender, Captain Mikhailoff. It was, after all, peacetime and while life in the infantry might have been a little more strenuous than smoking my pipe in the tailor shop, being among real soldiers was as exciting for me as going to summer camp would be to an American child.
Our noble Mikhailoff was a man who not only enjoyed life, but also did not begrudge others. He believed, for example, that in peacetime there was little sense in tormenting your men with a lot of useless exercises. So, while some companies were sent on field maneuvers, forced marches and other entertainments of that sort, our excellent captain took us to a shady spot in the woods where we were permitted to amuse ourselves with such leisure activities as trick riding and marksmanship. While we were well aware of our good fortune in having such a humane and easygoing company commander, we continued to talk among ourselves of the necessity of overthrowing our abominable Czar, Nicolai Alexandrovich, and abolishing such instruments of tyranny as the army.
In anticipation of the revolution, and thanks to Mikhailoff's generosity with ammunition, we soon became so handy with our rifles and horses that we routinely won a good many of those regimental competitions on whose outcomes our officers loved to place wagers. In fact, we did Captain Mikhailoff so proud that he was
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