winter was at hand. But I had hopes that I would be sent to work in a bakery, for they were looking for bakers and confectioners. Finally they sent me out, but instead of a bakery, I was sent to a farm. There were a hundred of us who were sent to this great landed estate and none of us had ever worked in the fields. The boss told us, in place of a welcome, that we must work. . if we would not, he would have us whipped. The second day we were sent out to work and had to drive oxen, although none of us knew how. I remember bringing home with me several times sections of the fence and once I guided a load of straw into the pond. Fortunately my oxen could swim, and the wagon with the team got safely across. . only the straw was lost.
There I was seven months, before I got hold of the newspaper “Czechoslovak.” And there I read that Czech and Slovak prisoners of war were being organized for service with the Russians. That interested me very much, and next Sunday I went to a nearby village which was settled by Czech farmers from Bohemia to get further information. I was awfully anxious to get into this army, but it was right before the harvest and I knew that the boss would not let me go. The only thing to do was to run away. So I sold the remaining parts of my Austrian uniform and bought a peasant’s outfit, hoping that I would not be recognized.
Next Sunday I skipped and walked to the nearest town of Kazatin, where I wanted to take train, but they would not sell me a ticket. There was nothing left for me to do, but to walk, since I knew that they would look for me, and if I were caught I would get 50 strokes of the knout. I was held up the second day, but luck was with me, for the people who caught me were good Slavs. They gave me a square meal, and when a military train came along they put me aboard, and so I got to Kiev in three days.
I walked along the streets and met our own people, prisoners of war, who were delivering bread. I asked them about our army, but they said that I should be in no hurry to join. I hanged around the city for a week and then I heard that a company of volunteers was going to the front. I went to see them off and at that moment I felt that it was my duty to join them. It was so touching to see Czech soldiers marching through Kiev under the Czech flag, and when at the depot a band was playing “Kde Domov Můj,” I could hardly keep from crying. As the boys got into the cars, they said “au revoir in Prague.” Next day I went back to Darnica and asked to be sent out to fight for the Russians. When I was drafted into the Austrian Army I almost cried, but now I was hoping to get to the front against Austria and I was sure that if my mother saw me she would be glad of it. That was August 20, 1916.
We were taken to the city of Borispol where we went into training. We sang our national songs as we marched to the parade grounds and back to the barracks, and nobody grumbled at the strict discipline. After nearly a month I was sent to the front to join the First Regiment. It was a quiet time all through that winter and we had an excellent time, especially at Christmas of 1916. All were impatient for spring to come and with it the great Russian offensive which was to crush Austria.
But in March came the Russian overturn. About three days after the Petrograd revolution we swore loyalty to the provisional Russian Government, and also for the first time we swore in Czech an oath of obedience to Masaryk. At the end of April we heard that delegates of soldiers from the South western Russian front would have a convention at which decision would be taken whether to at tack or not. The first Czechoslovak Brigade also sent a delegate, Major Šípek, who was very popular both with the men and the officers. When he got there, the Russians would not let him talk, because they looked upon him as the delegate of a national army. He went to General Brusiloff who helped him to be admitted into the convention. Major Šípek made them a fine speech, got a lot of applause and his remarks were published in Russian papers. There he had our brigade entered for the offensive as storming troops. Up to now we did duty in smaller detachments as scouts.
When Major Šípek returned, the whole brigade was told at once that we would take part in the spring offensive. Everybody was so glad that we would finally meet our enemies face to face. We had rifles, but no cartridges. Brusiloff promised that we would get everything at the front. When we were starting for the front, the people all cried and brought us flowers of which we made wreaths for our rifles. We went by train to Zbaraz, then we marched to Jezerna where German airplanes welcomed us with bombs, and two days later we started out at night and marched all night to the front trenches. We relieved Finnish regiments who had fraternized with the Germans.
In the trenches we found neither cartridges nor bombs. Machine guns were so dirty that we could not use them; but the second day the general sent us munitions and pretty soon we had everything.
It was seven days before we got our chance. All that time the Germans were anxious to find out who was in the opposite trenches, and they had an announcement that the man who would bring a prisoner would get 50 crowns and fourteen days leave. But they did not get a single one of our boys. The night before our attack we did not sleep, but sang our Czech songs. Everybody had bombs all around his waist. We were all as pleased as if we were going to a wedding. First Lt. Vašátko started out with a company of bomb throwers, whose business it was to smash the barbed wire. Few of them returned and Vasatko himself had his head smashed and is still going with his head bandaged, until there will be a chance to put in a gold plate in his skull.
Then we started out in small groups, like Indians, and in five minutes the first line was cap-
