The Raid (Tolstoy)
Short summary
Russian Caucasus, mid-19th century. The narrator, a civilian volunteer, learned that Captain Hlopov's battalion would march the next day.
Despite Captain Hlopov's attempts to dissuade him, the narrator insisted on joining the military expedition to see real combat.
The detachment marched at night through the mountains. At dawn they forded a river and attacked a Chechen village. Young Ensign Alanin, participating in his first battle, became excited and led an unauthorized charge into the woods with his platoon. He was mortally wounded in the attack.
As the doctor examined him, the ensign pushed him away, saying:
Leave me alone... I shall die anyway.
The troops burned the village and began their retreat. As Captain Hlopov had predicted, the enemy harassed them from the forest during the withdrawal. The narrator reflected on different forms of courage, particularly admiring the captain's quiet, undemonstrative bravery over theatrical heroics. By evening, the detachment returned to the fort with songs and drums, but the narrator remained troubled by witnessing the young ensign's unnecessary death.
Detailed summary by chapters
Chapter titles are editorial.
Prologue. A volunteers story
A young volunteer recounted his experience of military action in the Caucasus.
Chapter 1. The announcement of the march
On July twelfth, Captain Hlopov entered the narrator's earth-hut wearing epaulettes and carrying a sword, which was unusual for him. He announced that their battalion would march the next day to assemble forces at a location, likely for military action. The captain was characteristically practical about military orders, explaining that soldiers were told to go with two days' rations without knowing the full details of their mission.
Despite the captain's advice to stay behind and go hunting instead, the narrator insisted on joining the expedition. He had been in the Caucasus for a month specifically hoping to witness military action. The captain tried to dissuade him, suggesting he read military books instead, but the narrator remained determined. Their conversation turned to the nature of courage, with the captain defining bravery simply as doing what one ought to do. The narrator reflected on this definition, comparing it to Plato's philosophical approach to courage.
He is brave, who fears only what should be feared and not what should not be feared.
The captain had known the narrator's family before his service in the Caucasus. The narrator had visited the captain's mother, Mary Ivanovna Hlopova, who lived near his estate.
Chapter 2. Departure at dawn
At four o'clock the next morning, the captain arrived to collect the narrator. He wore an old threadbare coat without epaulettes, wide Caucasian trousers, and a shabby white sheepskin cap, riding a small white horse. They rode together through the fortress gates, following the battalion which appeared as a dense, oscillating black mass in the distance. The morning landscape was beautiful, with the sun beginning to illuminate the ravine, wild pigeons circling overhead, and the air filled with the scent of water, grass, and mist.
As they rode to catch up with the infantry, a young officer galloped past them. This was Ensign Alanin, who had recently arrived from the Cadet Corps and was going into action for the first time.
The captain observed the young ensign's excitement with disapproval, commenting on the folly of youth. He explained his philosophy about military service with grim realism.
What is there to be pleased at without ever having seen the thing? When one has seen it many times, one is not so pleased... one or other is sure to be killed or wounded.
Chapter 3. Meeting other officers on the march
As the sun rose and the march continued, the troops moved steadily along the dusty road. The soldiers carried their equipment and sang songs, while officers rode ahead, some showing off on their horses. Among them was a tall, handsome lieutenant in Asiatic costume who rode with the mounted Tartars ahead of the infantry.
This lieutenant was one of those young officers who modeled themselves on literary heroes from works like Lermontov's "A Hero of Our Time." He deliberately cultivated a rough exterior and affected to despise civilized society, though in reality he was kind-hearted and wrote in his diary each evening while praying to God. Despite his pose as a dangerous man seeking vengeance, he had once nursed a wounded Chechen back to health and released him with gifts.
The lieutenant claimed descent from the Varangians and insisted on his pure Russian heritage, though his surname suggested otherwise. He carried both an icon around his neck and a dagger, believing himself to have enemies while secretly being the kindest of men.
Chapter 4. The heat of midday
By midday, the sun cast hot rays through the glowing air onto the dry earth. The sky was perfectly clear except for lilac-tinged clouds at the base of the snowy mountains. The troops reached a small stream and halted, with soldiers rushing to drink while officers prepared to eat. The young ensign was among those drinking, appearing amusing in his heated state, though he didn't realize how his frankness made him appear to others.
Chapter 5. Arrival at Fort N—
By seven in the evening, the dusty and tired troops entered Fort N—. The setting sun cast rosy rays on the picturesque batteries and gardens surrounding the fortress. The narrator was surprised to find signs of civilized life in the fort: a pretty brougham with a fashionable bonnet, French conversation, piano music, and well-dressed ladies and officers strolling about.
At the general's house, the narrator witnessed an elegant scene where the commanding officer conversed in French with a countess in her carriage.
The narrator reflected on how this man possessed everything Russians strived for—rank, riches, and distinction—yet on the eve of battle joked with a pretty woman and promised to have tea with her the next day as if they had met at a ball. He also met a young lieutenant who was genuinely distressed at being prevented from participating in the upcoming action, grieving like a child who had been unjustly punished.
Chapter 6. Night march and river crossing
The troops were scheduled to march at ten in the evening. The narrator waited outside the general's house, absorbed in gloomy thoughts while observing the peaceful evening scene with its moonlight, shadows, and sounds of frogs and barrel-organs playing waltzes. The night was so warm and still that it seemed nothing moved, and the darkness was so complete that nearby objects could barely be distinguished.
Can it be that there is not room for all men on this beautiful earth, under those immeasurable starry heavens? Can it be possible that... feelings of hatred, vengeance... can endure?
After riding for more than two hours in the darkness, they approached a mountain stream. The rumbling sound grew louder as they entered a deep gorge. Tartar guides explained that lights flashing in the hills were hillsmen waving burning straw to signal that Russians were coming, causing villagers to hide their belongings. The enemy's advanced picket suddenly appeared, fired random shots, and fled into the darkness.
Chapter 7. First engagement with the enemy
At dawn, the cavalry vanguard followed by the General began crossing the rushing stream. The water reached the horses' chests as they stepped carefully against the current. Infantry soldiers linked arms in groups of twenty, holding their weapons and clothing above water. The mounted artillery drove their horses at a trot through the stream, with guns and ammunition wagons ringing against the stony bottom.
Once across, the General's face became serious as they rode into a broad glade. Enemy fighters appeared among the trees, and shooting began. The General and his staff observed the action, speaking French and commenting on the charming spectacle of war.
When a hostile cannonball flew past and wounded someone behind them, the narrator was struck by the sound of the wounded man's moan.
This moaning strikes me in so strange a manner that the warlike scene instantly loses for me all its charm.
Chapter 8. Artillery bombardment of the village
The battery took position and began firing at the village. The earth groaned under the shots, fires flashed incessantly, and smoke veiled the sight of artillerymen moving around their guns. Colonel Hasanov received orders to charge the village, and the cavalry disappeared in a cloud of dust they raised. The spectacle was magnificent, though the narrator felt the movement and animation appeared unnecessary to someone unaccustomed to warfare.
The troops took possession of the empty village, which consisted of long, clean huts with flat earthen roofs. Gardens with pear and plum trees lay on one side, while cemetery stones and poles with colored flags marked the graves of warriors on the other. Soldiers spread through the crooked lanes with evident joy, and the village became animated again as they looted and burned buildings.
Lieutenant Rosenkranz appeared with two soldiers leading an old Tartar prisoner. The frail old man, wearing only a ragged tunic and patched trousers, showed complete indifference to his fate.
Chapter 9. Occupation of the village
The narrator found Captain Hlopov sitting calmly on a hut roof, smoking his cheap tobacco with complete indifference to the surrounding chaos. The captain's demeanor made the narrator feel at home despite being in a hostile village. They observed soldiers dragging out sacks of flour, carpets, and other goods, while some set fires and others chased chickens.
When the narrator asked about the enemy, the captain explained that the real enemy wasn't present during the attack. He warned that they would face serious opposition during the retreat when many fighters would emerge from the thickets they had passed that morning. At that moment, they heard Don Cossacks gathered around something nearby, and the young ensign suddenly ran toward them, shouting not to kill what turned out to be a small white kid.
The ensign was embarrassed by his emotional outburst, explaining bashfully that he thought they were going to kill a child.
Chapter 10. The dangerous retreat
The General departed with the cavalry, leaving the battalion as rearguard. Captain Hlopov's prophecy proved correct—as soon as they entered the narrow thicket, hillsmen appeared on both sides, so close that individual fighters could be seen running between trees with rifles. War cries and shots rang out from the woods as the enemy opened fire on the retreating column.
The Russian troops responded with disciplined fire while artillery was brought up to fire grapeshot. Lieutenant Rosenkranz galloped back and forth shouting orders, while the young ensign was in raptures, his eyes shining with daring as he repeatedly begged the captain for permission to charge. Captain Hlopov sat calmly on his white horse, embodying true courage through his simple, unaffected demeanor.
It is he who is really brave... There was nothing very martial about the Captain's appearance, but there was something so true and simple in it.
Suddenly, the young ensign led thirty soldiers in an unauthorized charge into the woods, shouting a halfhearted hurrah. Minutes later, soldiers emerged carrying the dead and wounded, including the ensign himself, pale as a sheet with his head drooping on his chest and blood on his white shirt.
Young and still foolish, and now he has paid for it!... He's not afraid of anything; how can one do such things?
Chapter 11. Death of the young ensign
Four soldiers carried the ensign on a stretcher while officers tried to comfort him. The doctor arrived with surgical equipment and attempted to examine the wound with casual cheerfulness, but the ensign pushed him away, saying he would die anyway.
Five minutes later, when the narrator asked about the ensign's condition, a soldier replied that he was passing away.
Chapter 12. Return to the fortress
Late in the day, the detachment returned to the fort in broad column formation, singing songs. The sun had set behind the snowy mountains, casting rosy beams on thin clouds. The delicate moon grew pale against the deep azure sky as the troops moved across luxuriant meadows, with tambourines, drums, and merry songs echoing through the clear evening air.