merely stand for wisdom and virtue; he was, as it were, God himself. The life of a soldier, his personal liberty, the degree of his hardship, the amount of his leisure or work—all this depended entirely on the goodwill of the sergeant or the feldwebel. There were indeed a multitude of rules and regulations, but rules were merely a dead letter, while the decision of the sergeant was omnipotent. Thus the favour of the sergeant had to be bought by bribes or by flattery. A soldier had to humble himself and to go through many humiliations.
The position and power of the sergeant and the feldwebel accounted for much, for their influence was not only heavy but evil. As a matter of fact the promotion of a soldier to the rank of corporal or sergeant always depended on his special devotedness to the reactionary aims of Russian discipline and the cult of authority. A certain amount of intelligence and skill was certainly needed, but cruelty of character was, to say the least of it, an equally necessary qualification. The feldwebel was a professional soldier, carefully selected and specially trained. He became the real terror and nightmare of the ordinary Russian soldier.
Even outside the barracks and in his leisure time, the soldier was never free or independent. He never escaped the vigilant eye of the nachalstvo. A soldier was certainly not a citizen; he was hardly even considered a human being. He was always a mere private. The peasants and the simple people used to call the soldiers "Seraia Bozhia skotinka," i.e., "God's poor little grey cattle," and this expression at any rate was not used in any contemptuous or offensive mood. On the contrary, a deep and sincere pity and love are expressed in this odd compliment. But it sufficiently conveys an idea of the status of a soldier and of his treatment under authority. His every step was under control, and might lead him into conflict—not only with the regulations—but with the opinion, mood or temper of the first officer or sergeant whom he might chance to meet.
