Competition No 3715

Set by Gavin Ross on 21 January

Now that the Salvation Army is banned in Moscow, we asked for extracts from a well-known Russian work of fiction in which the Army impinges on Russian life.

Report by Ms de Meaner

By "impinges" I meant that the Sally Army made some sort of difference to history, like Anna Karenina not throwing herself under the train (G M Davis: hon mensh). I was taken aback by the number of entries where the Army makes no impact whatsoever: the "oh, if only X had stayed and played his tambourine, how different it all would have been" school of Russian drama. An additional hon mensh to Watson Weeks. £20 to the winners; D A Prince gets the vouchers.

Crime and Punishment

Raskolnikov took the tambourine in both hands and, almost without any sensation at all, brought it crashing down upon the old woman's head. He struck her again and again, and watched the blood - it looked like the cheap red wine that was the downfall of so many young women of the night - begin to flood the floor. Taking care not to soil his uniform, he reached into her pocket and withdrew a bunch of keys. With them, he opened her drawers, and he was already engrossed in her collection of sheet music, some of which had fine parts for the euphonium, when he was seized by a violent spasm. It occurred to him that she might not really be dead. Seizing the tambourine again, he raised it above her head. But she was quite still, her jaw frozen as if ready to sing a particularly difficult hymn. He returned to the chest, and was extracting some valuable pieces of silver, when he heard footsteps and a rattling at the door. Wildly, he recognised the sound of a collecting tin. "We know you're there, missus!" cried a voice. "Open this door, or we'll play our version of 'Crimond' again!"

Will Bellenger

Crime and Punishment

How long he stood Raskolnikov did not know, but the rattle of distant tambourines roused him from stupor. He gazed into the old moneylender's dead eyes and cursed his stupidity; the greasy rags, soiled furnishings, pervasive odour of decay should have told him that here was a prime target for the Salvation Army. Fool that he was, he was trapped, not just by the murder, but in their path. He heard trombones and triumphalist singing, closer now. They had taken St Petersburg, as they had taken every other city, with their steady refusal to be beaten back. Stumbling down the stairs towards Kaznecheyskaya ul, he caught the dark noise of their heavy arrival, the weight of their navy uniforms, their militant inevitability. A fist pounded on the door. "Sister!" a hearty voice cried. "Come and join us!"

He had never faced a War Cry squad before. Lebedev had, and where was he now? - giving succour to the city's outcasts in Sennaya ploshchad when once he had been a clerk, third rank. Shielding his face, he dropped a coin into a clean hand and heard the dread words that would mark him for ever: "God bless you, brother!"

D A Prince

War and Peace

Kutuzov's regiment began to advance from its position under heavy French artillery fire. At first, Napoleon had the upper hand. Kutuzov, however, had learnt the lessons of Austerlitz and Borodino. After half an hour, all Hell broke loose. Among the cannon fire and shells that ripped the sky, the air was pierced by a cacophony of sound. Learned historians differ over the cause of the defeat of the Grande Armee that day, and its subsequent ignominious retreat from Russia. Some say that the Emperor's judgement was impaired by a heavy head cold. Others, that he had an overwhelming, self-fulfilling premonition that Fate was against him. He may simply have been outmanoeuvred by the Russian generals who were much more familiar with the terrain and the geography of the area. The most likely answer, however, is to be found in the account of Marshal Ney, who believed that Napoleon was tricked by a British secret double agent, who introduced reinforcements from the Salvation Army at the crucial moment. Ney records the Emperor's desperate cry above the chorus of ear-splitting shrieks as the battle was lost: "Merde alors et nom de chien! I said fix bayonets, not six clarinets . . . !"

David Silverman

War and Peace

Outside the Muscovite inn, the band had stopped playing. Captain White took up his collecting box, and went in, holding it under the nose of a sleepy-looking man in the corner.

"Well done!" roared General Kutuzov. "Half my army are unpaid, but only you have the courage to come and complain!"

He peered closer. "What regiment are you?" he inquired.

The Captain spoke in his limited Russian.

"He's English. What does he say?" demanded Kutuzov.

"He says he's under the command of a great Lord," said an aide.

"These English are all Lords!" said the General. "However, they have courage, as you see. Come here, Captain! Now listen to me. Out there, on the road, are hundreds of French. Take your men there."

"Certainly, sir," said Captain White. He turned on his heel, and was gone.

It was he and his men who found and gave new hope to the French, saving what remained of the Grande Armee for the field of Waterloo.

Peter Lyon

No 3718 Set by John Crick

Could we have horoscopes for famous fictional characters (NB: Julius Caesar counts, although he is also real) couched in suitably horoscope-ish language.

Max 200 words by 21 February (to appear in issue dated 4 March) E-mail: comp@newstatesman.co.uk

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