Urbanshöhe

‘Is it crowded for men to live in this beautiful world, under this immeasurable starry sky? Is it possible that in the midst of this charming nature a feeling of malice, vengeance, or the passion of exterminating one's own kind can linger in the human soul?’

‘The Raid’, 1853 - L. N. Tolstoy

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Chapter I: Bogorodskoye

It was 1914, God knows what month, but one thing is clear, August was approaching, the fateful August for me... But it was a long time away. I was drafted into the 209th Infantry Bogorodsky Regiment and was preparing to leave for the West, to Estland. By that time the fighting was already rumbling all along the border of the Kingdom of Poland, the Germans together with the Austro-Hungarians were advancing along the whole front. Kaiser Wilhelm II thought that it would take us a long time to launch a large-scale offensive against the German Empire (here he miscalculated). He pulled most of his forces to the West, to the borders of France, planning to implement the Schlieffen plan (Which will be very much hampered by Moltke's reshuffling of units, because of which the coverage of Alsace and Lorraine through the Benelux countries was unsuccessful. Many people also forget that it was Russian brigades that left the Crimea for France, helped the French to repulse Champagne and directly participated in the Verdun meat grinder....

But all this was later, now Prince Massalsky gathered the regiment near the village of Bogorodskoye, newcomers were examined, new uniforms and weapons were issued, the road was not close, Nizhny Novgorod Province was far enough from the front line. The road to the place of stay took weeks, maybe even a month. All along the road we were accompanied by the clergy, which was the only way to find peace of mind in these troubled times. 

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Chapter II: Urbanshöhe

When we crossed the border of East Prussia, we crossed a small bridge over a river and entered a German manor, Urbanshöhe. As soon as we entered it, there was an all-round fire, we were expected.

Rifle fire and buckshot hovered over us like flies over a night pot. We took up a circular defence. The Germans beat us assertively with their rifles, every now and then nailing to the ground one or another Russian soldier, former peasant or officer from the nobility, the latter were worth their weight in gold, their knowledge and experience were invaluable, but to the German bullet they were the same as all others. Chaos and devastation reigned. German mills and houses were stacked like cardboard, made of brick and stone, they raised clouds of dust. Smoke covered the whole neighbourhood. I commanded a small regimental detachment, we lay down in the potato beds, the Germans called it the same as we did, rather we called it, like the Germans ‘Kartofel’....

It became clear that there were twice as many Germans as us, it complicated the already difficult situation, there was no hope for victory, but there was nowhere to retreat, the Germans swarmed everywhere like fleas on a mongrel. I gave orders to the places, the Germans had already entered the village and it seemed that they were going to bury us all here. Lieutenant Baranovsky was running faster than a bullet round the positions, looking for our regimental commander, Prince Massalsky. He soon found him at the positions, and from Baranovsky's lips he said: 

"Your Excellency, we're surrounded, order the retreat!"

Prince Massalsky looked at the lieutenant with dazed eyes, full of despair and incomprehension; he could not believe that they were being razed to the ground at this moment, that they were losing. He refused to leave the battlefield and ordered Baranovsky to gather the rest of the men and leave for safety. The prince was never seen again, nor were the many who were left lying in the ruins of the manor. The Germans had already entered the manor. They came upon exhausted, bloodied Russian soldiers, who, forgetting their own fatigue, rushed at them with bloody passion, taking one or two Germans with them to the other side.

The Germans did not slacken their pace. Their artillery and buckshot mowed us down like a scythe mows down wheat fields at harvest time. We fell, got up, wiped off the blood and rushed to the walls of the half-destroyed mills to repel another German approach. We ran into them at every corner, they walked among us like shadows of our own soldiers. A small part of ours was already retreating. The Germans wanted very much to seize our banner, but Hieromonk Philotheus was the first to tear it from its shaft, wrapping it around his chest, he fled from the battlefield with the consent of his officers deep in the rear, selflessly covering great distances, preserving the honour and dignity of the 209th Bogorodsky Infantry Regiment, which afterwards was reorganised, though with completely different men. He was awarded a medal afterwards, quite deservedly in my opinion.

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Chapter III: Hammerstein

The fight was over after five hours. Most of the regiment was defeated right in the manor. Many of us were left lying in those cultivated potato fields, trampled paved paths, under the bridge, by the river bank, at the base of the mills, barns and houses. The regiment was no more, nor was the commander, only the banner was saved. I was taken prisoner, as were some of the survivors. As soon as we were taken to Köningsberg, we were held for some more time for interrogation and then sent by train to central Germany and then westwards, first to Frankfurt am Main, to the Rheims area, and then to the Hammerstein prison camp. What happened in that camp will remain a mystery even to posterity, but as soon as the revolution took place in Russia and the infamous Brest-Litovsk Peace Treaty was signed between the Bolsheviks and the Germans, I returned home, where a very different Russia awaited me, engulfed by a bloody revolution with no end in sight. I returned with my brother and family to our estate in Vorontsov, where no living soul could disturb us, we had escaped the revolution and did not take sides, accepting the will of the victors and defending our property in letters to the Soviet Minister, but that was another story.