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Chapter Seven. The Third Squadron
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Chapter Seven The Third Squadron WHEN I RETURNED to the regiment, the gentle and kind Staff Captain Iskander, who had commanded the Third Squadron, had retired. In his place the squadron was taken by Staff Captain Edvin Iogannovich Lindgren, a Finn. Although no one could say anything bad or at all blameworthy about Lindgren, this tall, red-haired man with a gleaming pincenez did not inspire love in either the officers or the soldiers. Always polite and demonstratively correct, he was also petty. He was a martinet in the fullest sense of the word, a pedant to the marrow of his bones and also a stick who couldn’t understand either a good joke, a witticism, or strong Russian humor. He was easily offended and spoke Russian poorly, with a strong foreign accent . He stuck his pince-nez into all the petty details of the squadron’s life and made his subordinates heartily sick of him. He knew how to wear them out with his monotonous, nagging complaints, never raising his voice and never swearing. Practical, a good manager, always conscientious and sober, he was in essence a quite good squadron commander and always a useful regimental toiler. He was a great patriot of Finland and subscribed to a Finnish newspaper that he always carried around. He loved to talk about Finland’s past and to hold up his compatriots and their customs to everyone as an example. Lindgren ’s comrades could sense that, although he never expressed it, he did not like and even despised Russians. It was astonishing that this strange fellow had chosen to serve precisely in a Russian Guards regiment, to which one might presume he would have a hostile attitude. Besides, serving in the Guards did not afford him any material benefits. But he served not only honorably , but with the highest degree of conscientiousness, and he perished somehow unnoticed and humble at the head of his squadron, at the very beginning of the World War, from a well-aimed German bullet. In the Third Squadron the senior platoon officer was the Lieutenant Prince Urusov Senior, who in complete opposition to Lindgren was a typical Russian nobleman and the kind of Russian patriot who adored “Daddy Tsar.” He was a good comrade, a very jolly fellow and a joker, who loved good company and good liquor. A lively and vivid regimental personality, Urusov Senior, 228 besides the service and carousing with and without women, had the most varied interests, up to and including theosophy, for he read Blavatsky and Leadbeater and all kinds of spiritistic books.1 A graduate of the Pages, Urusov dreamed of a military career at court and the rank of aide-de-camp, but all the same he never disdained to have a joke and a chat with the soldiers. As an officer he was rather lazy and not terribly assiduous, and maybe it was for this reason that the soldiers liked him, always greeting him with a restrained affable smile. The soldiers saw him as a lively, gay officer who didn’t press them to work too hard—they saw him as a man above all. Urusov Senior was especially popular with the cabbies of Gatchina, whom he loved to tip and with whom he would engage in long conversations as they drove. Sometimes you would be walking along the street and would see in the distance a cabby riding along, having dropped the reins and turned his torso toward his fare, gesticulating eloquently, sitting on the box almost backwards. You would know that it was Lieutenant Prince Urusov Senior, arguing with his cabby on some impossible topic. When I was promoted to officer, I very quickly became friends with this always jolly and boastful lieutenant. He had a rather imposing appearance. He was a bit stout, young but already balding, with a long nose and black mustache , always smelling of champagne. Urusov had a slight stutter, and this speech defect suited him very well, because it seemed to emphasize the wit he often displayed in his arguments with his companions. I remember the following incident, which was very typical of Urusov. In Gatchina a well-respected retired general died. He was buried, as was proper, with a parade to which military detachments from all units of the Gatchina garrison were assigned. From our regiment was assigned a representative squadron under the command of Urusov Senior. The squadron went out in mounted formation in parade dress, that is, with jackets...