Our regiment is stationed in four places: a unit in Zlatoust, one in Chelyabinsk (six hours away), and two in factories not far from Zlatoust. Small towns. My own Twelfth Company is stationed at the Katav-Ivanovsky Ironworks (three or four hours away). After I complete my “training course” in the detachment, they’ll send me to the company. But this will happen only after the summer camps. For the time being, you can write to me at the Training Detachment, 196th Infantry, Insarsky Regiment. The camps take place in different locations every year. In recent years, they took place near Chelyabinsk, another time near Samara …
NOVEMBER 16, 1912
Change is afoot in my life. It seems I’ll be leaving for my company very soon. In the company, it will be a lot better than in the detachment. The crème de la crème of the soldiery is found in the detachment. They choose the best people, who go through a special school and, after finishing the course in one year (with a “diploma” in hand), are assigned as teachers to the young soldiers. And they get the highest soldiers’ ranks: corporals, junior and senior noncommissioned officers, and sergeant majors. They study for the entire day in the detachment. And the discipline is much more stringent than in the company. Of course, this does not affect me at all. I sit around doing nothing all day. I go to bed and get up whenever I want to. I even have time to study! To my great disappointment, all roads to promotion in the ranks are closed to me. A Jew can become a corporal—but nothing higher. The way is barred. My career as a soldier is over. This is why they are transferring me from the training detachment to the company. All the volunteers (Russians) envy me.
The conditions of barracks life are quite decent, but when I enter the company, they will improve.
If I were from this area, they might even let me live at home. But barracks life is not as terrible as you might think. It’s spotlessly clean. No sign of bedsheet fauna. They are very strict about cleanliness. You’re punished for even the most minute spot of dirt. For a torn shirt, dirty hands, toenails, mud-stained legs and puttees, an unmade bed, dust on surfaces, a cigarette smoked in the barracks—punishment! It’s extremely effective. The ventilation is good. I had to sleep for a few nights in a common barracks. Can you imagine that in a place that houses twenty-five people (soldiers, at that!) the air is as fresh in the morning as it was during the day? It’s quite incredible, but it’s true.
The walls of the barracks are lined with pine boughs.
I’m eating well. I go to the Officers’ Assembly to eat. I eat both lunch and dinner there, and drink my tea. ZLATOUST–MOSCOW JACOB TO MARUSYA
NOVEMBER 19, 1912
I write my parents about the everyday details of my life. They aren’t really interested in anything else. The longing I feel here I can describe only to you. What I lack here is—You, Music, Books. There is simply no cultural life whatsoever. Even the officers are poorly educated. Among them are, of course, some wonderful and sincere people. I must learn to survive this year without all of those things that are the very stuff of life for me. Even, it seems, without study. It is very difficult to find time here during the day. Envy is an ugly feeling, but something like it has taken hold of me. Somewhere in Kiev, in Moscow, in Paris, the life that intrigues me, the life I can participate in, is going on without me. How marvelous it is, Marusya, that you are able to study, and you have your school, and the courses, and a life filled with both intellectual and physical activity. In an article by M. Voloshin, which I happened to read last year, he describes in a very compelling way your Bewegung, but he also discusses the artistic side of things and holds in high regard the performances of Mrs. Rabenek’s troupe. And, poor me, I have yet to see them! I have never once witnessed you onstage! And when will I get the chance? My imagination paints a sublime but dim spectacle for me.
My longing is only augmented by the constant sense of your absence. I think that a romantic lover would put it differently: I am always aware of your presence! Alas, I feel only absence. And the complete absence of letters. Only one postcard in all this time! ZLATOUST–KIEV JACOB TO HIS PARENTS
NOVEMBER 19, 1912
This is one of the rare moments of silence in the barracks. The troops have gone to the city for a scheduled review. It’s nice and quiet. I received your letter yesterday. It didn’t take long at all to arrive here—just five days. Four days and six hours en route. Thus, 102 hours altogether. As long as it takes to get from Kiev to, say, London.
About clothing and the climate. The winter here is not terribly harsh. It rarely gets colder than fifteen or twenty below (Fahrenheit). And, in general, I love the cold. In spring, it’s worse. There are mists and fog from the mountains, dampness … But it doesn’t pose a problem, since I don’t catch cold very often.
The overcoat lined with quilted cotton batting—your advice, Mama!—isn’t permitted, and it would be inconvenient, because I couldn’t roll it up and wear it over my shoulder. Moreover, it would be extremely hard to carry out the manual of arms. If it gets terribly cold, I’ll wear more layers of underwear. That will suffice. Actually, it’s only on their feet that soldiers feel the cold. I’ll have to think about what to do. I was advised to buy government-issue boots (the best ones cost three or four rubles). They are very roomy, so you can wrap many layers of puttees around your feet. That’s what I’ll do. I bought some woolen socks, and they’ve already worn through. Puttees are better. So I advise you not to worry, Mama. It’s obvious that if it’s cold, or if something’s uncomfortable, unpleasant, I’ll try to get warm and comfortable and feel better as soon as possible, in any way I can.
I received my uniform—that is, the order for it arrived at the company. Tomorrow the order will be delivered to the tailor, and they will take my measurements. It will be ready in about six days. That means I won’t be a full-fledged soldier until after November 25. All this time, I have been idle, from the point of view of a soldier’s duty. I don’t attend training, or take part in formations. I practiced gymnastics for a few days, and rifle disassembly; but then they sent me to the office unit, where I have nothing to do. On the other hand, I can spend some time with my books. Many thanks for the Kiev newspaper. I can’t subscribe to it here, however. I often read The New Times in the Officers’ Assembly, where I take my meals. And sometimes I buy The Russian Word at the train station.
You tell me that business is good this year, Papa. I’d love to know about it in more detaiclass="underline" about the mill, the hay transport, and the “Berlin” barges—whether navigation is still possible … Before I left, you said I would be your assistant after I finish the Institute. Well, an assistant has to know the details! This will be my main activity, rather than music. Perhaps you were right. There are places on this earth where music simply doesn’t exist.
Yesterday I was sitting on my bunk and reading a book in German. Some soldiers came in and asked me to read it aloud to them. I read, and they listened attentively.
Once, in a lesson on Divine Law, one of them answered, very confidently, “Moses was born in a basket”! A SEPARATE PAGE
Dear kids! Your letters make me so happy! So write me as much as you can. I want to know about everything, everything interests me. About Ivan the Terrible, and about stamps, and about your new pencil.