Journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier #12

Alexander Palace, 8 March 1917

Empress Alexandra instructed us to remove the imperial insignia from our uniforms to avoid provoking the rebels when they return. Morale disappeared when we received news that the tsar has abdicated. With each passing day several colleagues eventually left the palace. The situation was hopeless to them. Their loyalty to the imperial family had been pushed to the very limit.

Large numbers of troops led by a general appeared outside the palace. He ordered us to unlock the gates, threatening to use force if necessary. An officer told us to either surrender our weapons and leave or report to a garrison in Petrograd, declaring that the Imperial Guard has been disbanded. Alexandra thanked the guards for their loyal service and presented those who greeted her with icons as a farewell gift. She later met the general and informed her remaining staff that they had until evening to leave the palace or be placed under house arrest with the family. A few have chosen to stay.

Alexei is feeling better but Anastasia has succumbed to the measles, followed by Marie soon after. I was allowed into the sickroom once, but on the condition that I made no mention of the abdication. Only Marie knows that her father has abdicated. The past few days were agonizing for her and she is worried for her parents. She continuously prays for her father to return home safely. Her only consolation is knowing that I did not forsake her family.

I watched over the girls for about an hour before I had to leave while the nurses tended to them. Alexandra has given me my own room in the palace now that I was free of my duties. I only intend to stay until the family's house arrest has been lifted, but she welcomed me to stay with them for as long as I like.

Before I left the sickroom, Tatiana noticed that I was still wearing my imperial insignia. She cannot hear me because her illness has led to temporary deafness. I took off my overcoat and draped it over her, which she clutched with her hands. Tatiana knows that I had worked long and hard to earn it, but I was happy to be rid of it. The imperial family is all that matters to me now.

Journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier #11

 Альбом Николая II, 1913-1916 гг, 1536-0017 (Илья Григорьев | Flickr)

Alexander Palace, 28 February 1917

Have made first contact with the revolutionaries. A large mob attempted to storm the palace gates, but they dispersed when we fired warning shots into the air. I fear we will not be able to repel them again should they return with weapons. The Empress Alexandra was advised to evacuate her children to the safety of an imperial residence in Gatchina, but she has been reluctant as she is anxiously awaiting news from the tsar who is at Stavka.

Olga was startled by the gunshots. She is with Tatiana and Alexei in the sickroom. They contracted measles a week ago. I assured them that the palace is safe. However, I am speaking in half-truths. Ever since the revolution broke out, many of the palace guards have either deserted or failed to report for duty, leaving us desperately understaffed. But I cannot bring myself to tell her that. I am sure that Olga knows that I am holding back, but to her credit, she says nothing.

The sound of distant gunfire continued to echo through the frigid night. We were assembled in the courtyard, preparing for another confrontation. With rioting on the streets, many of the palace staff were compelled to return home to their families. I like to think that some of my colleagues are absent for the same reason, though the gunfire speaks to the contrary. Nurses from the hospital and friends of the imperial family are gradually arriving to offer their help.

In spite of the danger, Alexandra and Marie came out to see us, expressing their gratitude to each soldier for their continuing loyalty to the imperial family. The empress hopes that our presence alone will be enough to deter the rebels, avoiding any needless bloodshed. Marie looked very sick and pale as she slowly made her way down the line of guards with her mother. I advised her to go back inside the palace when she approached me, but she fell to her knees and begged me to stay. Marie was trembling. I wrapped my overcoat around her and accompanied her indoors. I have known the Romanovs for almost seven years and I am not about to abandon them now, especially in their time of need.

Journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier #10

ГА РФ, ф. 640 оп. 3 д. 25 л. 62 фото 906 (eavm | Fotki.Yandex)

Alexander Palace, 21 December 1916

A funeral for Rasputin was held a short distance from the palace with the imperial family in attendance. While they were away, I neglected my duties and sat next to a river bridge on the edge of the park. I spent sleepless nights wondering what I had done to Olga. I had not seen her since we last spoke. It was peacefully quiet and I was glad to have some time to myself.

To my surprise, Olga appeared and sat next to me. Having filled her mind with doubt, she chose not to attend the burial. I do not know what excuse she gave for not going, but the empress must have been furious. Olga asked me about the letter and I reaffirmed its authenticity, telling her where I found it. She already knew it was Rasputin's as she recognized his handwriting, but was initially reluctant to accept it. Though the letter was in my pocket, she did not wish to read it again.

I never met Rasputin personally. My knowledge of him only came from newspapers and gossip, but Olga asked for my opinion of him. I think he was just a religious zealot who took advantage of her family's hospitality. But he should have been banished indefinitely from the capital, not assassinated. That was all I was willing to say to Olga. She doubts if her mother would have approved of banishing Rasputin, let alone sever all contact with him.

Olga removed a pendant from her necklace. It had a picture of Rasputin on it. She and her siblings have had one ever since he first came into their lives. Then she dropped it into the river, tucking the necklace with a baptismal cross back into her blouse. Olga feels that while it was perhaps necessary for him to be killed, it should not have been done so terribly. She knows that sooner or later she will have to visit Rasputin's grave, lest she defy her mother again.

Olga wanted me to swear that I will not tell her family about the letter. I could not bear to keep a secret from them, especially Marie and Anastasia. But I still care about Olga and don't want to lose her trust. I borrowed her cigarette lighter and used it to burn the letter, thereby ensuring the truth remains a secret between us. I told Olga how sorry I was for hurting her and she tearfully asked me to stay with her awhile longer, resting her head on my shoulder.

Journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier #9

Alexander Palace, 18 December 1916

The imperial family has been devastated by the death of Grigori Rasputin. He was murdered yesterday in the Moika Palace, home of the Yusupovs. His body has yet to be found. For a while I ignored whatever rumours the newspapers concocted about Rasputin's relationship with the imperial family. But as the rumours persisted, I began to feel confused. His death finally convinced me to find out for myself.

There were policemen guarding the entrance to Rasputin's apartment in Petrograd. They granted me entry since I was from the palace. I thoroughly searched the place and did not find anything confirming the rumours. Instead there was a letter addressed to the tsar, written only a few days ago. Rasputin predicted that death will soon befall the imperial family if he was killed by any of the tsar's relatives. I could not understand it, Rasputin was their confidant. Why would he write such a thing?

Olga was alone in the garden when I returned to the palace. She is ashamed of her cousin Dmitri Pavlovich for his involvement in killing Rasputin. Olga also expressed her hatred for Felix Yusupov. He never had the stomach to serve in the military yet he is capable of committing murder. She can never look them in the face again, knowing what they did.

I showed her the letter when we talked about Rasputin. She broke down in tears after reading it. Olga refused to believe he wrote it and was upset at me for showing it to her. She dropped the letter and went back into the palace. I only wanted her to know the truth, but I should have known better. Olga's health has been very poor lately and she is deeply troubled by the war. Now I have inflicted even more misery on her.

Journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier #8

Tsarskoye Selo, September 1914

It seemed only yesterday when the imperial family was on good terms with their German relatives. How times have changed so suddenly. Olga, Tatiana and their mother, the Empress Alexandra, have underwent training to become Red Cross nurses at a private hospital on the family's estate.

Our campaign on the front has been disastrous so far. A close friend of mine fell near Allenstein in late August. The Germans have been proudly calling it the Battle of Tannenberg. One of the wounded survivors at the hospital brought back his personal belongings, which I intend to send to his family. He vaguely remembered my friend's final moments, but I was glad to know that he did not suffer and was not alone when he died. A prayer was conducted but without a burial as his body was not recovered. His death has been difficult to bear.

While I was grieving outside the hospital, I felt someone patting my back. I opened my eyes to see Olga and Tatiana. They consoled me as I struggled with my tears, realizing I had lost someone very close to me. Olga reminisced about her childhood memories of her cousin Ella, who died when she was only eight years old. She struggled to cope with the loss for months. They both hugged me before they had to return to class.

Journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier #7

ГА РФ ф. 673 оп. 1 д. 232 л. 11 фото 163

Alexander Palace, March 1913

Tatiana was up very late, watching me on guard duty from the window of her isolation room. She still has a fever but her condition is improving. Olga passed me a note from Tatiana, promising to make it up to me for her absence at the ball. She asked me to walk by her window on my next night shift. When I did, she blew me a kiss, and I obliged her by fainting in the snow. I still hope to dance with her one day, but after that moment, what more can I ask for?

Anastasia was hiding up a tree in the afternoon. She was supposed to be studying but instead avoided her tutor. She only climbed down when I agreed to let her inside the guardhouse where it was warm, though I warned her that if a governess called I would have to escort her back to the palace. While Anastasia was resting on my bunk bed, she saw my journal on the bedside table and proceeded to read it. Ever since she first saw me writing she has been curious of its contents.

Anastasia came across a postcard of her family and another of herself in a white dress, both of which I keep in the journal. She returned to the palace and later came back with a copy of the original photo for me. The postcard of her family was signed by her siblings. Tatiana's signature was the most impressive. She signed hers with a grand flourish. Anastasia spent the next hour or so reading me her English essays. She was happy to practice with me because I did not behave like a tutor.

The scent of Anastasia's violet perfume was still on the bed sheets when I slept that night.

Journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier #6

 Winter Palace, February 1913

A luxurious ball was held in the capital to celebrate the Romanov Tercentenary. Tatiana had granted me the honour to be her escort before she fell ill with typhoid. She is recuperating in one of the upstairs bedchambers. I visited her first to wish her a quick recovery. She appreciated it and told me not to worry about her, wishing me a pleasant evening.

None of the grand dukes or princes had offered to escort the grand duchesses to the ball. To save them from embarrassment, officers from the Tsar's Escort voluntarily partnered Olga and Anastasia. I took the opportunity to ask Marie if I could accompany her, and she blushed as she delightfully accepted. She introduced me to her friends and relatives. Some of them joked that I was too thin for her. My low rank was also unimpressive to them, but Marie was not discouraged. She admired my full dress uniform and preferred my company more than her social equals.

We proceeded to the dance floor after dinner. Olga, however, remained at the table, apparently unenthusiastic about the party. I learned from Marie that her sister had fallen for a naval officer and was heartbroken when he got married. I wanted to cheer her up, so I later approached her for a dance. She was resplendent in her pink dress. While on the dance floor, Olga and I fell when I made a misstep and tripped. There were bursts of laughter all around us. I felt ashamed for humiliating her, but she smiled and insisted we finish our dance. The grand duchesses were talented dancers. I only wish Tatiana could be here.

As the evening wore on, I accompanied Olga and Marie to the grand staircase where we bade each other goodnight before they retired to their rooms. Anastasia was behind me, visibly upset because I never danced with her. I offered her my hand, but instead of returning to the ballroom she happily took me outside to dance in the garden. Afterwards we sat on a bench to rest. Anastasia was softly humming music that was playing in the ballroom, all the while leaning against me with her hands grasping my arm.

Anastasia has rarely ever showed her charming side to me in the past three years. As time went by, I saw less of her pranks and more of her loveliness. Either I have finally won her affection or merely satisfied the imp temporarily. I carried her back inside when she dozed off. I will never forget this night.

Journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier #5

  ГАРФ 640 -1 -384 (Tatiana Z | Flickr)

Alexander Palace, Summer 1911

Made a long patrol today. There was nothing to report. Time seems irrelevant except for the fact that I am bored and these hours alone are endless. My colleagues are only interested in making sure that the man beside them is doing their duty. The daily roll calls and regular inspections of our bunks and uniforms has become monotonous. It is difficult for me to muster any enthusiasm for my regular duties here.

The truth is, I am missing the company of the tsar's children. They have been spending their summer in the Finnish skerries. I can see all of their faces, but somehow it is not enough. I find myself drawn to them in ways much stronger than my obligations to the military. They have truly enchanted me. Perhaps it is my own fault that I grew so close to them. I often remind myself that they are the children of the Emperor of All Russia, so I must be careful not to overstep my boundaries.

My unit is no longer required to escort the tsar and his family on their holiday trips. We only have to accompany them as far as the yacht or train, after which responsibility is handed over to the navy and cossacks. With the imperial family gone for weeks, my colleagues enjoyed lesser workloads at the palace. I only look forward to going to bed to pass the time whenever I'm off duty, or going home when I'm granted leave.

Marie sent me a postcard with a picture of her and her siblings on the obverse. Very kind of her. I will be sure to write to her should the opportunity arise. It may be forward of me, but what can it hurt? After all, she is my friend. Sometimes I even think of her as a sister.

Journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier #4

Alexander Palace, Winter 1910

Marie and Anastasia came by the guardhouse today and had a snowball fight with me and my colleague. Soon a staff car carrying some minister arrived. We opened the gate for him while covered in snow. Amusingly, the little pair joined us in saluting the vehicle. We waited for it to pass us before resuming our snowball fight. Before they left, Marie gave me a flower which she had plucked from the garden, her gaze looking deeply into my eyes. When I told her that she was staring at me, she quickly covered her face in embarrassment and ran off.

A few hours later, Tatiana and I took a walk in the park. Anastasia suddenly pounced me from behind and ran off with my cap. While Tatiana was ordering her sister to give it back, I reluctantly chased after her and grappled her to the ground. Anastasia found my hands ticklish, so I proceeded to tickle her waist. She laughed hysterically but still refused to surrender my cap, clutching it tightly to her chest.

Tatiana saw her parents walking nearby and alerted me to their presence. I quickly helped Anastasia to her feet. I thought it best to let her be lest I incur the wrath of the tsar and empress for touching their daughter. Tatiana whisked me behind a tree for a moment, hoping they didn't see me. From there we resumed our walk. She came by the guardhouse afterwards with my cap and offered her apologies, promising to restrain her sister in future. I told her it was perfectly all right.

My colleagues believe that Anastasia would not trouble me if I learned to stop being such a weakling. She is a little annoying, though I have secretly grown to like her playfulness. I will not have the respect of my colleagues, but the company of a grand duchess is too good to give up. Sometimes when I'm on duty I would look in the direction of the palace, wondering if Anastasia will appear.

Journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier #3

Alexander Palace, 1910

The tsar's children were having a photo shoot. I tried to distract Anastasia by making silly faces from behind a doorway. Was hoping to get back at her for pranking me last time. Instead I attracted Maria's attention. She lost her concentration just as the photographer took their picture, and came running after me when the session ended. I did not attempt to flee from her. While I was explaining myself, Maria was hitting me with her fists. The Empress Alexandra hung the photograph on a wall in one of the palace rooms. Maria is embarrassed whenever she sees it.

There was a kitten stuck on top of a tree not far from the palace. I climbed up to retrieve it, and while I was making my way down I saw the Grand Duchesses Olga and Tatiana waiting below. The kitten belongs to them and they were looking for it after it snuck out of the palace. I was a bit nervous speaking to them because they looked very mature for their age. They heard about me from their younger sisters. When they took their kitten and walked in the direction of the palace, I overheard Tatiana whispering to Olga that I was very cute. I could die now.

The Tsarevich Alexei has a habit of walking past the guardhouse often, and we have to stand at attention whenever he appears. Fortunately, on the tsar's orders, we don't have to salute the tsarevich unless another member of the imperial family is with him. Anastasia knows of this however, and often accompanies her brother. It pleases me to see her around though.

Journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier #2

ГА РФ, ф. 651 оп. 1 д. 260 л. 3 фото 32 (eavm | Fotki.Yandex)

Standart Roadstead, Summer 1910

A small guard detachment was assigned to escort the Romanov family on their holiday cruise to the Finnish skerries. We travelled there on the imperial yacht Standart. Halfway into the journey, a seaman was looking for the Grand Duchess Maria. The chefs were cooking meals for the family and she had gone missing. The seaman asked me to help find her but to remain discreet because he was responsible for her safety.

I found Maria below decks weeping at one corner. She apparently had a quarrel with her elder sisters, who called her fat. Wiping the tears from her eyes, I told her she was not fat and offered to carry her in my arms. She was reluctant at first because she feared she was too heavy for me, but I proved her wrong. I carried her up to the main deck and handed her over to the seaman, who escorted her to the dining saloon. Her tears were gone by then.

Maria later asked me to accompany her to the bow section of the ship, where we could enjoy the view of the Finnish coastline. I did not properly introduce myself to her earlier. It was the first time I've ever had a conversation with a grand duchess. She was keen to know about me and was a surprisingly good listener. The sailors would not stop looking at us. After she left, they jokingly accused me of courting her. I hope I have not drawn any unnecessary attention.

While we were ashore on the mainland, I had a chance to lay back comfortably on a bench to gaze upon the stars. It would have been an incredibly beautiful night if only I was alone. Anastasia kept me occupied with her usual pranks and playfulness. Were it not for her, I believe I would be having the time of my life. I know she means well, but she is quite possibly the naughtiest child I have ever met.

Journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier #1

Romanov photograph album 2, p. 46

Alexander Palace, January 1910

Upon graduation from military academy, I was sent to the Alexander Palace in Tsarskoe Selo, the residence of Tsar Nicholas II and his family. On arrival I reported to my unit and registered with the clerk, who assigned me a bunk and issued me a service rifle and bayonet. I will be issued a handgun when I become an officer. A senior guardsman gave me a tour of the palace's surrounding areas. There were sentry posts and patrol routes I had to familiarize myself with.

Within a week I was out prowling on my own. I was initially content with my posting, but that changed dramatically when I noticed a little girl following me during a patrol in the Alexander Park. She kept her distance from me, picking up the pace whenever she fell too far behind. She vanished when I neared the guardhouse. When I enquired with my colleagues, they told me she's the Grand Duchess Anastasia who is just curious to see a new face and that I can ignore her. They were giggling behind my back as I left the guardhouse, which left me puzzled.

The next day there were two grand duchesses following me. They were wearing identical dresses and were whispering to each other. Suddenly my head was hit by a hard object from behind. I turned to see the grand duchesses looking nervously at me. The taller one apologized while Anastasia hid behind her in fear of reprisal. I continued on my way, unsure of how to respond. My colleagues laughed when I returned to the guardhouse and told them what happened.

It didn't take me long to realize that Anastasia often plays pranks on the palace staff and, to a lesser extent, the guards. Maria, the taller one, is helpless and always ends up apologizing for her sister's misbehaviour. Our commandant is not bothered by Anastasia as he believes her pranks serve to remind us to remain vigilant. The hard object Anastasia threw at me was a tiny pebble, which really hurt. Her aim was very precise. Still, my thoughts kept coming back to Maria. She was a magnificent looking girl.

Journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier

 

I suddenly came up with an idea to create a journal of a Russian Imperial Guard soldier who was with the last royal family. It is of course a work of fiction, but it will be based on actual events.

Only time will tell how many entries I'll be publishing. I may not know much of the Romanov family, but at least I can put some of my imaginations and dreams of them in writing. I may be terrible at English, but it's worth a shot.

Update (28 February 2018): Seems I have finished writing about my Romanov fantasies. I actually published over 20 entries, but over the months I deleted several as they were nothing more than filler. I kept in mind that "less is more". This meant omitting any mention of Alexei's hemophilia as well as any allegations about Rasputin. My fantasies have always been about OTMA anyway.

Overall I am satisfied. I kept the entries as historical as possible, ending with the brutal murder of the entire Romanov family. Of course I was reluctant to write about the murders because it hurts me so much, but the story had to end somewhere and stopping at the revolution just seems abrupt. One of my favourite entries takes place during their imprisonment anyway. If anyone is curious which one, it's the one that involves Maria, probably my favourite of the four grand duchesses.

Once in a while I still do some retyping. If anyone has read through my journal entries, I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have enjoyed writing them. Just don't take them seriously.