Konrad and Alexandra (pdf) - Rolf Gross

Vladimir gulped down his glass of vodka and held it for a refill. "I don’t know what will
happen in the following months. Trotsky and Lenin are still in exile abroad, but they will for sure
make their appearance at the liquidation sale of power. As long as they are not on Russian
soil, Kerensky may well be able to keep his followers together."
His voice turned into a hoarse whisper. "But I know what I will do. I will collect Tamara
as soon as the passes have opened and leave this country. To whomever Fortuna will give her
nod, we will only have a short time of grace during which it will be possible to escape the
terrible reckoning to come."
He looked at Alexandra. "And you should consider doing the same."
An ominous silence hung like a black cloud over them. Vladimir poured himself another
glass of vodka, Otto watched his mother intently, and Konrad, deep in thought, stared at her
portrait across the room.
Alexandra lit a cigarette. All four knew that this decision rested on her shoulders.
She sighed.
It was not the first time that she was confronted by this decision, only this time it was
deadly serious. If the timing of Vladimir’s prediction held, it would be possible to reach Georgia,
if not they would have to cross into Finland through the snowbound woods of Karelia. And what
then? How were they to reach Germany? The war was not over. And maybe the Germans
would still win. All her Georgian relatives were convinced of a German victory, if only because,
wedged between Russia and Turkey as they were, they had no other choice of hope.
She looked questioningly at Konrad.
Deliberately slowly she said, "I would try to reach Georgia as soon as that is possible."
The words, which Konrad had expected, had been said. Konrad did not comment.
With an agitated voice Otto began to examine the logistic questions. They could not take
the train to Tiflis, because Baku was in the hands of Moslem insurgents. Going by boat was
equally out of question. The Black Sea was controlled by Turkish torpedo boats. They had only
one choice, to wait until the Georgian Military Road opened. Could they cross the pass in a
sleigh?
"On foot is more likely," said Konrad with a dry voice. "And what shall we do with Sophia
in that case? No, we will have to wait until early May."
Surprisingly, no one gave a thought to their possessions, the furniture, the books, the
apartment.
Vladimir asked for asylum that night, it would be too dangerous to go home by himself.
Four days later, on March 2, 1917, Tsar Nicholas II, a willing, sacrificial lamb of
predestination, signed the abdication which was presented to him—with a pencil as it were.
The new government put the royal family under house arrest in Tsarskoe Selo. In a concession
to the conservatives, Prince George Lvov was elected Prime Minister. A landowner with the
intelligence of a village mayor.
The war continued, the Germans controlled the Ukraine. The Russian army
disintegrated on all fronts. Bands of mutinous soldiers killed their officers and hid in the woods.
Thousands streamed into Petrograd, swelling the left-wing radicals.
The aristocracy began to leave the country, across the border to Finland, to Siberia, and
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