24 August/6 September 1914

Luncheon at Grandmother’s at Gatchina Palace. She forbade all talk about the war and instead turned her bright eyes in my direction and asked me to tell her about my study of French poetry.

That was a disaster, of course. But after luncheon, when we went back to Aunt Olga’s, it was a different story. All the young men talked of nothing but the war. Lieutenant Boris plans to take his dress uniform with him when he leaves for the front, so he’ll be ready for the victorious parade through the streets of Berlin. No one seems to give the least thought that he might get wounded or even killed. They expect to be home by Christmas.