So in 1917 during the turmoils of the first months he found himself on a train alone and befriended another boy of about 17. They both decided to go South and join the Revolutionary Guard group under the command of Red Colonel Sivers. They took off at one of the southern stations and his friend suggested to cut the way through the woods. He had a compass and other instruments and seemed very confident. The boys went through the woods for a day and stopped for a night, made a fire (they had some provisions) and then the older one made himself sort of a baton and managed to kill a bird with it. He was very handy. They fell asleep and in the morning the 15 years'- old went to the stream to wash himself and met his friend already there. They slept fully clothed, so he started to take off his boots and at that moment another boy hit him by a baton on the head and he fell unconscious. When he opened his eyes he saw another boy roaming in his sack. The boy looked at him, grinned and said:
-Aha, you back, you fool. I am going to the South but not to Sivers. I am going to join the White Army under Gen. Krasnov.
With that he picked up his baton and prepared to swing it. At that moment, lying on the ground, the teenager pulled out a pistol and pointed it. That did not stop the assailant; he only shrieked with fury a rushed at him swinging. The 15years' -old pulled the trigger and lost his senses again. When next time he looked he saw his former friend lying on the ground. Dead. He picked up both sacks and ran through the woods crying.
I am all for change and for better life and for justice. But as we remember the glory of achievements we should forever remind ourselves this rather strange statement about every Revolution:
REVOLUTION DEVOURS ITS CHILDREN