Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 76 Riot
The winter of 1914 was extremely difficult for all of Tsarist Russia.

Although it was only the early stages of the war, the weakness of the declining Russian empire was already beginning to show. In order to sustain the war, the government began to squeeze its internal potential.

The excessive money supply meant that in early 1914, one ruble could buy 200 grams of beef, but by the end of the year, the same amount of money was only enough to buy a loaf of black bread for a family of three to eat for a day.

Supply was equally tight; even in St. Petersburg, the administrative center, the government's supplies were only just enough to meet demand.

However, this "just enough" refers to the normal dosage under normal circumstances.

No one expected the snow to come so early this winter!

This sudden natural disaster caught the St. Petersburg city government off guard. In a short period of time, fuel consumption reached several times that of the same period in previous years, coal prices soared, and there was even a situation where the price of fuel was lower than that of bread.

The price of coal is now so high that even low-income office workers can no longer afford it, and the sounds of axes chopping furniture can be heard everywhere in the city.

Those who own furniture can chop it up, but what about those who don't?
As food prices began to rise, the poorest people in the city sadly discovered that even if they halved their food rations, their meager income still wouldn't be enough to buy fuel for heating.

As snow fell heavily, some people huddled inside their houses, shivering.

People often only realize the value of something when they lose it.

It was only then that everyone realized how important and precious that small amount of seemingly insignificant coal the black-robed priest had distributed was.

The workshop apprentice, Morineev, carried a bag and unconsciously quickened his pace as he walked. The snow last night was quite heavy, and he wondered if his grandmother would have any problems living in the old house.

Fortunately, the roof has been repaired, so it shouldn't leak.

I really have to thank Father Pugin. If it weren't for the flour and coal he brought, I really don't know how I could have kept going with my grandmother.

As I passed the street corner, two dirty-looking men suddenly appeared in front of me. They were huddled in the cold wind, staring at me with ill intent, their hands tucked into their sleeves, holding something I couldn't tell what they were doing.

Molyneev frowned. The streets had become increasingly chaotic lately, with robberies frequently occurring over supplies.

Thinking this, the young apprentice pulled out a large wrench from his pocket, and with his other hand slightly opened a corner of the bag to let the person opposite him see what was inside.

His meaning was clear: I'm not someone to mess with, and I don't have anything valuable to me. If you want to cause trouble, you'd better watch out.

Sure enough, the two men looked at each other, then at the hard, large wrench, and finally turned and left, disappearing into an unknown alley.

Call ~
Morinayev let out a long breath and quickened his pace again.

With a heavy heart, the young apprentice opened the door to find his grandmother praying in front of the icon. The old woman's face was serene, seemingly unaffected by the wind and snow outside.

"Grandma, I'm back! I brought something back with me!" Moliniev's voice was full of excitement.

The small bag in my hand was opened, revealing a thick layer of sawdust—the workshop also produces wooden handicrafts, and these are all everyday scraps.

Peeling back the sawdust revealed something hard underneath—a large piece of black bread, which looked to weigh about 4 or 5 pounds, enough for the grandfather and grandson to eat for two to three days if they were frugal.

In order to bring the large loaf of bread home, Moliniev deliberately concealed it.

The sawdust was collected and evenly sprinkled on the charcoal fire, and soon the smell of burning wood began to fill the room.

"The priest told us to go home and see what this is for us." The young apprentice excitedly showed the black bread to his grandmother, seemingly thrilled that he had received the priest's attention.

The elderly woman smiled kindly but did not speak. Her voice had been injured before, and speaking was a very difficult thing for her.

The wheat porridge and pickled cucumbers as a side dish were brought to the table. The old man watched his grandson eat his dinner with a kind smile, then patted the young man on the shoulder, indicating that he had something to do.

A small basket was brought out, covered with layers of linen. Moliniev lifted one corner, and his eyes widened instantly.

"You made pies?!" He couldn't remember the last time his grandmother made such a "luxurious" dish was a long time ago, not to mention that food was in short supply at the moment, and the little flour they had at home was brought by the priest when he last came.

Moliniev seemed to know what his grandmother was going to do.

Sure enough, the old man gently closed the basket and handed it to his grandson.

“To…the priest…” she uttered the words with some difficulty, slowly but clearly.

Although Molinayev wanted to say that the priest was a respectable man and shouldn't go hungry, seeing the old man's earnest expression, he nodded, wrapped a few pies in a cloth, and stuffed them into his pocket.

"I'm going right now!"
-
At the same time, at 64 Gorochovaya Street, a cook served dinner pies on the table.

“The streets are in a lot of chaos lately, and our purchasing staff haven’t returned yet. Please be patient for now,” Lyudmila explained from the side, then secretly observed the other person’s reaction.

As expected, the priest in the black robe did not show any unusual emotions; he simply picked up a pie and began to chew it carefully.

There was no anger at being belittled, no surprise at the unexpected event, not even a hint of curiosity.

It's just like…

It was as if he had known all along.

The heavy snowfall a few days ago had given her quite a fright. Recalling the pile of coal in the yard and the strange behavior of the black-robed priest pushing a cart carrying coal, a thought that even she found incredibly foolish arose in her mind—could he have known all along? As a woman with a background in the secret police system, she believed that everything that happened had its own fixed logic. She tried to deduce the situation before her, but the conclusion she reached was always the inexplicable one.

Predicting? How is that possible?!

Lost in thought, Lyudmila didn't notice anything being handed to her.

A steaming hot Russian pie.

"Father Pugin, what are you doing? Please don't joke like that!" The housekeeper practically jumped to create distance.

"Let's eat together, what do you think?" The priest in the black robe pushed the plate in his hand forward again.

"This is inappropriate. I'm the housekeeper here; I shouldn't..."

“You’re the housekeeper of this house, not mine.”

Then the priest in black robes looked into their eyes and said, “Don’t hide it from us. There aren’t many fruits, vegetables and meat left in the kitchen, are there? You can’t keep eating dry bread. Even if you can manage, you should think about the other girls.”

After speaking, the priest tilted his head and looked at the other maids beside him.

The tall butler pondered for a moment, then reached out and took the plate containing the pie.

She compromised, after all, she was directly responsible for the shortage of food in the house—the purchasing agent who hadn't returned was actually someone she had sent back to the Winter Palace to deliver a message.

"Susan's cooking is excellent, everyone should try some." The priest in the black robe warmly greeted everyone in the house and handed out pies.

Everyone shared the limited ingredients, and the distance between them seemed to be shortened without them even realizing it.

As the sun set, the snow began to fall again. A maid tried to light the candles in the room, but the priest in black robes stopped her.

He gave a somewhat inexplicable order: "Don't light the lamps tonight, and keep the fire dim. Everyone, please be patient tonight and gather in the living room to sleep."

"Why is that?" a young maid asked, puzzled.

"It's a little secret, don't ask, just go do it." The priest in the black robe didn't explain much, but simply patted the other person's shoulder lightly, changing the subject.

Since the priest had spoken, even if they didn't understand why, the others still did as he said.

Most of the maids working here are 18 or 9 years old, and the young girls are actually quite eager to try sleeping on the floor in the living room at night.

Strangely, the housekeeper, who always disagreed with the priest, did not object to this almost absurd behavior. Instead, she quietly helped the other girls pack their things and warned them not to sleep near the window to avoid catching a cold.

As the sun set, the housekeeper went upstairs alone to her room, opened a small wooden box, and inside lay the weapon the head maid had given her—a Browning M1906 lady's pistol.

The fact that none of the messengers she had sent out had returned gave Lyudmila a vague sense of foreboding.

She took the pistol out of its wooden case and loaded it with 6.35mm bullets one by one.

Plop!
A dark shadow flashed by, and she suddenly raised her hand to aim, her swift movements unlike those of a woman.

But when she pointed her pistol at the window, she realized that a feathered creature had just flown by.

Oh, it's a bird!
The female manager breathed a sigh of relief, just then, footsteps sounded behind her.

"Excuse me, I saw the door was open outside, so I came in!" the priest in black robes said, standing in the doorway.

No sooner had he finished speaking than the housekeeper turned around abruptly, her Browning in her hand already pressed against his nose.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly became somewhat cold, and neither of them spoke.

A few seconds later, the housekeeper raised her gun.

"Excuse me, Father, this is just for self-defense." Lyudmila could only come up with this lame excuse on the spot.

“It was my fault. It was too presumptuous of me to suddenly barge into the lady’s room,” the priest in black robes continued.

Both of them tacitly refrained from explicitly stating their final words.

The atmosphere eased, and Lyudmila took a deep breath and spoke again, "Father, do you have any concerns about letting the girls sleep in the living room?"

"Aren't you the same?" The priest in the black robe glanced at the "tool" in the housekeeper's hand.

The wind outside the window has picked up again!
In October 1914, St. Petersburg was hit by heavy snow and temperatures plummeted. Public discontent, stemming from a shortage of heating supplies, erupted a week later, with some supply depots being stormed and large numbers of citizens looting supplies.

In the chaos, some people began to storm the German-speaking neighborhoods, looting began, rioters started setting fires, the "German Club" on Nevsky Prospekt was burned down, more than 20 people died on the spot in the conflict, and traffic was disrupted in some parts of the city.

At night, due to the government's delayed response, the chaos from the daytime continued to escalate, with mass looting beginning and quickly escalating into civil unrest.

(End of this chapter)