War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy [258]
Everything had been eaten, and the local people had all fled; those who had stayed were worse than destitute, there was nothing to take from them, and the soldiers, little given to pity, often even gave them the last food they had, instead of taking from them.
The Pavlogradsky regiment lost only two men wounded in action; but it lost nearly half of its men to famine and disease. In the hospitals death was such a certainty that soldiers sick with fever and bloated from bad food preferred to go on serving, forcing themselves to drag their feet to the front rather than go to the hospital. With the coming of spring, the soldiers began to find sprouting from the ground a plant resembling asparagus, which for some reason they called “Mashka’s sweet root,” and they scattered over the meadows and fields hunting for this Mashka’s sweet root (which was very bitter), digging it up with their sabers and eating it, in spite of orders not to eat this noxious plant. In spring a new disease broke out among the soldiers—a swelling of the hands, feet, and face, the cause of which the medics took to be the consuming of this root. But in spite of the prohibition, the Pavlogradsky soldiers of Denisov’s squadron mostly ate Mashka’s sweet root, because for two weeks already the last supply of biscuits had been stretched, each man receiving only half a pound per day, and the potatoes of the last shipment had frozen or sprouted.
It was also the second week that the horses had been eating straw from the roofs of houses; they were hideously skinny and still covered with their winter coat, which was matted in clumps.
Despite such destitution, the soldiers and officers lived just as always; now, too, though with pale and swollen faces and in tattered uniforms, the hussars lined up for roll call, did the cleaning, groomed the horses, polished their arms, pulled straw from the roofs to feed the horses, and sat down to eat around the cauldrons, going away hungry, joking about their vile food and their hunger. Just as always, in their time off from service, the soldiers made bonfires, steamed themselves naked by the flames, smoked, sorted and baked the sprouted, fusty potatoes, and told or listened to stories about Potemkin’s or Suvorov’s campaigns, or tales about Alyosha the Rogue and the priest’s farmhand Mikolka.
The officers, just as usual, lived two or three together in gaping, half-ravaged houses. The senior officers busied themselves with obtaining straw and potatoes, and the means of nourishing the men in general; the lower ranks were taken up, as always, some with cards (there was plenty of money, though no provisions), some with harmless games like horseshoes and ninepins. There was little talk about the general course of the war, partly because nothing positive was known, partly because it was vaguely felt that the general business of the war was going badly.
Rostov lived with Denisov, as before, and their bond of friendship had become still stronger since their time on leave. Denisov never spoke about Rostov’s family, but from the tender friendship which the commander showed his officer, Rostov felt that the elder hussar’s unlucky love for Natasha played a part in the strengthening of this friendship. Denisov clearly tried to expose Rostov to danger as rarely as possible, protected him, and met him with particular joy when he returned from action safe and sound. During one of his missions, in an abandoned, ravaged village, where he had gone for provisions, Rostov found a family made up of an old Pole, his daughter, and a nursing baby. They were poorly clothed, hungry, and could not leave, having no means of moving anywhere. Rostov brought them to the camp, placed them in his quarters, and kept them for several weeks, while the old man was recovering. One of Rostov’s comrades got to talking about women, and began to tease Rostov, saying he was the cleverest of them all, and that