The Lives Of The Romanovs

The End Of An Era

Olga

I sat in the dining room around 10:30 that morning. The snow fell outside the windows and it was terribly cold, like all winters in Russia. I carefully dipped the hot tea with lemon in hand and read the newspaper in the other. Same old news, nothing new. November 11, 1918 was going to be a normal day like any other, I just knew it.
"Papa, do you think we could go sledding today?" My little brother Alexei, asked my father.
Mama shook her head. "Oh Baby, you just got over a bleed. Take some more time to rest and then perhaps you could play."
"But Mama, I would like to play now."
I raised my eyebrows at him. "Alyosha, please."
"Alright Olga." He lowered his head and took a bite of his biscuit.

Anastasia smiled at Papa and set her tea down on the plate. "Papa, do you think I could have a new pair of gloves?"
"For whatever reason, Nastya?"
"Well, my old ones don't really fit me and they even have a hole in them."
Tatiana groaned. "These are wartimes, dear sister. Perhaps when the war is over, then you may buy some gloves. We must take care of Russia and its soldiers before anyone else."
"Well said." Mama nodded at Tatiana. "Well said. Mashka, why aren't you eating?"
"Oh Mama, I wish could eat! But how am I supposed to do so when Anya Vybruova told me some terrible news! Apparently, the people are getting very sick right now. Very, very, very sick." Maria sighed. I put my paper down and set a hand on Mama's shoulder.
"Unfortunately, Maria is right. In the paper, it's something called Spanish Flu. It's been here since April but it's only gotten worse this Autumn." I sighed and looked over at Mashka, whom seemed close to tears.
"That's not good at all. I hadn't realized how it was effecting Russia. I know England and America have pushed for their citizens to start wearing masks. Perhaps we should start doing the same." Mama nodded and exchanged looks with Papa. He simply nodded back and stayed silent.
"Like theater masks? Why would I wear a theater mask to protect me?" Alexei tilted his head in confusion.
"No, you idiot. They mean surgical masks like what doctors wear. It protects people from illness." Anastasia shouted.
"Anastasia Nikolaevna, do not refer to your brother as an idiot. Whatever is the matter with you?"
Alexei chuckled. "No Mama, you are so silly. Sometimes good friends refer to each other with such names like 'idiot' and 'fool' as a joke."
Mama's eyes widened and she exhaled. "I will never understand children these days. But as long as you two live with your father and I, there will be no name calling of any sort. Do I make myself clear?"
Anastasia and Alexei nodded in shame. "Yes Mama."

Out of nowhere, Doctor Eugene Botkin burst into the room, gasping for air. His eyes were wide. All of our attention went to him. Papa furrowed his eyes brows and stood.
"Botkin, you look like you've seen a ghost. What is it?"
He gulped and panted, trying to catch his breath. "There's a phone call for you in your office from the Stavka, your majesty."
"I'm eating with my family right now. Can it wait?"
"Actually, sir, I think you are going to want to hear this." Botkin said. Papa had a puzzled expression and wiped his mouth with his napkin quickly.
"Alright then. I shall see you all back here for lunch then. Don't worry, my children. I'm sure everything is alright." Papa gave a wan smile. He bent down and kissed Mama's cheek quickly, then he disappeared with Botkin.
"Mama, what do you think that could be about? Is Papa in trouble?" Tatiana asked.
"Of course, he's not in trouble. He's the Tsar. But something did in fact happen. Your papa will tell us as soon as possible. Alexei, go get ready for your French lesson with Pierre Gilliard. My girlies, why don't you all go work on your needlework or read for the next hour? I shall tell you whatever it is as soon as possible." Mama sternly said. We didn't ask another question about it. We stood at the same time and pushed in our chairs. We each kissed Mama on the cheek before leaving the dining room.

Tatiana, Maria, Anastasia, and I decided to go sit in one of our sitting rooms together and patiently wait for the news. Tatiana and Maria worked on their embroidery together while Anastasia played on the sofa with her beloved dog, Jimmy. I sat at the piano, working on learning a new piece of music.
"No Mashka, it's not to your left. You're supposed to turn the needle to your right." Tatiana tried to reach over and help, but Maria moved her stuff away.
"Tatya, I know embroidery just as well as you do."
"Well obviously, you actually don't. If you don't pull the needle to the right, then it will be a large mess."
Anastasia groaned loudly. "My goodness, nobody cares about your embroidery! Your conversation is so boring that you're giving Jimmy a headache."
"That's funny, Nastenka. I do not remember asking for your opinion." Maria shot back. Anastasia just stuck her tongue out at her and looked down as the black dog snuggled in her lap.
"Please, do not argue. Maria, Tatiana is only trying to help you so just listen. And Anastasia, you know exactly what you did." I commented.
"Yes, I agree with you." Tatiana cleared her throat. "Maria, just let me help you out in that spot right there. May I?" She pointed to her embroidery. Maria reluctantly handed it to her. But Tatiana was right and put the stitching work back on track.
Maria gave a weak smile. "I guess you do have the right touch after all, huh?" Tatiana giggled and put her arm around Maria.
Anastasia groaned again and set Jimmy down on the floor. She stood and stretched her back. "Oh Olishka, I miss parties so much! They haven't been the same since the start of the war. I remember your 16th birthday and dancing with the officers on the Standart, don't you?" Anastasia twirled as she came over to me. "I remember that you danced with Pavel Voronov. You remember him, don't you?"
Maria laughed. "How could she forget? He was her greatest love." Maria and Anastasia both started to laugh. I chuckled and rolled my eyes at them. I continued to softly play the piano.
"Pavel is happily married with several children now. I am very happy for him. Besides, I have my Mitya now."
"Oh yes, I practically forgot about him! He's been at the front, hasn't he? Goodness, we haven't see him since 1917! Do you two still write to each other?" Anastasia asked.
I shrugged. "We try our best but it's not easy getting mail to the front. But oh, I wish so bad to be his wife."
"Don't be ridiculous, Olga." Tatiana intervened. "Grand Duchesses can't marry soldiers."
Anastasia started to laugh loudly. "Really Tatushka? What about your beloved Dmitri Malama? Remember him?"
A smile appeared on her face. "You make a fair argument. I haven't spoken to him since 1916. Is it bad I still keep him in my prayers though?"
Maria shook her head. "Of course not. Malama was a kind soul and a true Russian. I wouldn't mind getting back into contact with him. I hope he's well."

Papa and Mama burst into the room with faces of mixed emotions. I couldn't exactly tell what it was at first. But then, a little grin appeared on Papa's face.
"My girls, the war has ended. The Germans have surrendered."