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Pages 284-286

My dear ones,

Sending blessings and peace to you from myself and your children, but the situation has
become unbearable. Russia is collapsing, I am not talking about some defeats with controls, no
my dear one, we don’t know more difficult times. Russia’s spirit is collapsing and there is fear.
You, soldiers, watch over the holy ones, with groaning in trenches and absorb the shells, and
you don’t know that behind me, ‫ט‬our back is actually forming a revolution. Nobles and princes
from Petersburg are mocking peace, and they shoot you in the back, and even our Brazilian
Czar is impacted. The rumors say that physical strength was injured, some even say...you’re
shaking my hand, forgive me, my dear. There are those who say that there are only a few
weeks left, and we know who will inherit his place. Alexander Nicolovich is not allowed to be a
man of the military, and there is talk that that all the officers responsible for the defeat in the
collapse would be sent to Siberia.

Yesterday, we were at the opera and we heard Glinka's "Life for the Sorrow" in a remake.
There is no doubt that this was the best opera of his. Around us, sat all those from Petersburg,
and more of them have wonderful drama contracts of Ivan Susanin, a Russian hero who
sacrifices his life for the sake of grief, they speak of the need to enter Russia’s borders and stop
the unnecessary killing of people. Do you understand, my dear? If tomorrow, God forbid, you
will lose your soul in the battle, for them, your death is unnecessary. They do not see that
courage alone is reason enough to deliver your soul. Respect for them is a coin, a mutual
object, and love of the homeland is no more than an idea. They ask to foster a new breed of
officers, those who are capable of thinking, will preserve the power and worry in their heads,
and first of all that their soldiers would not be infected with Cholera. The commander of the
army will really be a merciful nurse, and the officers will serve and the simple soldiers are bread
and meat.

The rumors say that Sevastopol is destined to fall, and there they dress themselves for the
opera, and already looking for the guilty ones. Each ranked officer is rejected, and they say,
they will be exiled to Siberia. It is a disgrace that we have reached the point of half a Russian
army crouch halfway. I know that for you, it was preferable that you tried to break the siege
even at the cost of tens of thousands. But as you know, officers like you are considered old
fashioned,

Because of your courage and loyalty, you will be hanged last of the traitors. Not bad, my dear,
at least in this house, at least this woman, at least these children, we know that she doesn’t
wink at the same material

Yours,

Yalnah Vandictov