# The Russian Revolution (Foster)/Chapter 26

XXV.
A PROLETARIAN OUTPOURING.
Once in awhile one has an experience that can never be forgotten so long as life lasts. That was my lot one day: I witnessed a great Russian mass demonstration. It seemed as though I saw the very soul of the revolution.
The demonstration, part of the ceremonies attending the opening of the Congress of the Third International in a day or two took place in the super-historic Red Square of Moscow. No more fitting scene for a revolutionary gathering can be imagined. The Red Square (the name was the same in the days of the Czars) is a large cobble-paved plaza about 150 yards wide by 300 yards long. Along one side of it runs the famous Kremlin wall, above which, in the interior, rise buildings literally bullet-riddled from the terrible fighting in the October revolution; while at its base, in a great common grave, lie hundreds of workers who gave up their lives in the revolutionary battles. Along the other side of the Red Square stretches an enormous arcade, likewise torn by bullets. Once it was a hive of intense capitalistic activity, but now its many shops and offices are tightly closed, and the painted names of their former parasitic occupants look down lugubriously upon an unsympathetic Moscow. At one end of the square there is a large revolutionary museum, and at the other end the celebrated church of St. Basel, the most beautiful building in Russia, if not in the whole world. Just in front of this church stands the great stone executioner's block where hundreds of victims of Ivan the Terrible and other Czars were beheaded. Merely to look about the famous Red Square is to get a thrill such as the New World cannot produce. But when one sees it filled with a surging, revolutionary proletariat, as it was on this day, one's feelings are indescribable.
The day started with a review of the Red Army Moscow garrison. About 10 o'clock the various units began to assemble and to arrange themselves in the Red Square. All branches of the military service were ​represented, including infantry, cavalry, lancers, artillery, signal corps, officers' schools, etc. Aloft, over St. Basel's church, hung a great "sausage" observation balloon; while a score of aeroplanes skimmed in and about the heavy clouds overhead dropping propaganda leaflets. Promptly at the scheduled time, exactly upon the stroke of twelve by the great Kremlin clock, the ceremony began. The massed bands struck up "The International," and Leon Trotzsky, Peoples' Commissar for War, came out of the Kremlin gate to inspect the 20,000 assembled troops.
Trotzsky is a man in the prime of life, well-built and vigorous. He was afoot and accompanied by half a dozen officers dressed as usual like privates save for the small rank markings on their sleeves. Trotzsky himself wore an absolutely plain, non-military khaki suit. The party walked up to the reviewing stand, where they were joined by a group of Congress delegates from various countries, who then made a tour of the square with them to inspect the troops. The soldiers stood at "Attention" (I am told that "Present Arms" is not in the manual of the Red Army), and each regiment chorussed the greeting, "We serve the people," as the reviewers reached it. Meanwhile the great combination band poured forth the inspiring strains of "The International." It was a memorable scene.
As I looked at this simple, yet most impressive picture I could not help comparing it with the gorgeous military pageants I had seen in other European countries, and speculating upon the vast differences in their meaning. This was the famous Red Army, typifying the age-long struggle for liberty, justice and humanity; while the others were the masters' potent instruments for tyranny, slavery and brutal slaughter.
One feature of the review was almost startling in its significance. This was the part played by the delegates who accompanied Trotzsky in his inspection. Even as imperialistic army officers study each other's armies and military methods, so did these delegates, future officers in the Red Armies to be created in their own countries, study those of their Russian brothers. They symbolized the universal proletarian army of the world revolution.
I was particularly interested to note the makeup of the soldiers. They had all the appearances of being ​well fed, highly trained and thoroughly equipped. For the most part they were attired in plain khaki, although one regiment wore red trousers and another black ones. Several other units had small red or black cloth straps across their breasts. The regular uniform consisted of a sort of cloth helmet, Russian blouse, heavy leather belt, ordinary military trousers, and high leather boots. Just what rifles the soldiers had I could not learn positively, but I was told that most of them were of French make, captured from General Wrangel. Besides cutting a generally smart appearance, the Red Army soldiers had a very business-like look which was heightened by their habit of constantly carrying their rifles with bayonets fixed. The man with me was an American, formerly a regular United States Army soldier for several years. He was especially impressed by the morale of the troops, which he pronounced as being remarkably high.
As for the officers, they were unique. Conspicuous by an absence of the usual military swagger and bluster, they were quiet, human and efficient. They were the antipodes of the officers of Czarist times. They dressed so like the common soldiers that they could hardly be distinguished from the rank and file. Most of the Red Army officers were very young, although experienced veterans. Here and there an ex-Czarist officer could be seen, some of them holding high rank. They could be told almost at a glance. Although quite evidently they had been profoundly modified by the new social order, there was something about them—a remnant from their old imperialistic training—that the new working-class officers did not have. I was interested in two who stood close by where I sat. One wore a sabre, evidently from the old army, for it bore the usual imperial emblems. The other officer, noticing it, pointed to the Czar's coat-of-arms, and both smiled broadly. There was a world of meaning in those smiles, and I would have given a great deal to know what it was. I watched closely such Czarist officers as I could distinguish from the rest. They seemed to fit in fairly well with the new scheme of things, but I thought they did not come to "Attention" as readily and freely when ​"The International" was played as the younger officers, who are nearly all Communists.
After the inspection Trotzky made a speech to the troops, touching on the needs and opportunities of Russia. He has a splendid ringing voice. I doubt if there was a person in the vast Red Square outside the range of it. Recently I read in one issue of the New York Times that he was fatally afflicted with cancer, and in another that he was dying of tuberculosis of the throat. But he was the healthiest looking sick man I have seen for a long time. To have made oneself heard in that vast open air gathering was a real achievement physically. Representatives of many other countries also spoke. Trotzsky seemed much affected by the occasion and often led in the cheering.
Following the speech-making there came a great parade. There were fully 60,000 people in line. It was a combined military, naval and civil affair. In other countries the armed forces rarely or never condescend to march with civilians. This is because they are things apart from the life of the people. But not so in Russia; there the Red Army is as much of a working-class institution as the trade unions or the co-operatives. They are proud of it and it is of them. In this kaleidoscopic demonstration it sandwiched itself among a mass of civilian organizations of school children, university students, civil guards, trade unions, factory groups, etc. It was a veritable outpouring of the proletariat.
A prime feature of the parade, and to the foreigners the most interesting one, was the Communist Party groups from the various sections about Moscow. The Communist Party enjoys a tremendous prestige in Russia. It is generally conceded to be the embodiment of the revolution; the driving force that has carried it on through incredible difficulties. Here were the members of this marvelous organization, which I have described in a previous chapter. And they were plain and unromantic enough in appearance. Just common workingmen and women with the flame of revolution burning in their hearts and good rifles on their shoulders. Confirmed revolutionists and idealists to the last one, they are the shock troops of the revolution. No capitalist country possesses armed forces which, man for man, could meet them successfully in battle. It ​was significant that they were given the place of honor in the parade, coming even before the Red Army. In Russia the Communists are first in war and everywhere else. Upon them rests the burden of the revolution. I watched them march by—thousands of armed, plain, un-uniformed workers—with more interest than I have ever bestowed upon any other body of human beings in my life. I was looking at the Russian revolution itself.
THE END.