On the precipice of the Battle of Austerlitz, Tolstoy illustrates the bravado and immaturity of youth.

Here, I explore how Tolstoy incorporates elements of his own vice from his younger days, including pride and ambition. Both his early and late material speak to this, most notably personal journals from his time at university as well as the spiritual work, My Confession, written in 1879, when in his early 50s. The latter was an attempt to grapple with eternal questions such as: What am I doing?, and Why am I here? Tolstoy pursues answers in the mold of how Solomon (or “the Preacher”) is presented as taking them on in Ecclesiastes.

Tolstoy appears to have reached the conclusion that those outside his social class (most notably humble peasants) have a higher chance of living in virtue and connecting with the Almighty. He implicitly argues for a reversion to a more simple Faith based on the Teachings of Christ.

Early in Confession, Tolstoy famously wrote:

I cannot think of those years without horror….. I killed men in war and challenged men to duels…. I lost at cards, consumed the labor of the peasants, sentenced them to punishments, lived loosely and deceived people. Lying, robbery, adultery of all kinds, drunkenness, violence, murder -- there was no crime I did not commit, and in spite of that people praised my conduct and my contemporaries considered and consider me to be a comparatively moral man.

He could barely imagine such depravity among the peasant class.

Tolstoy also references his early skepticism of the Russian Orthodox Church, especially as to rituals and teachings found outside the Gospel, such as certain prayers and the veneration of saints.

He reflects that his “false faith” became trying to become the perfect earthly man and he rigorously tried to formulate methods to achieve success.

Some of Tolstoy’s suggestions, taken from his journals, are: never hesitate to speak before onlookers; lead the conversation and speak deliberately; do not constantly move from conversation to conversation or language or language; seek the company of High Society; and invite the most important ladies – as that will be the event to be at!

An aunt who helped raise him strongly suggested that he have relations with a married woman of the highest status – as she believed nothing so fully formed a young man. She also wanted him to become an aide-de-camp, if possible to the Emperor. She further advised to marry into extreme wealth and become possessed of as many serfs as possible.

Tolstoy’s journals continue in a self-help fashion, suggesting: do not put off what you set out to do; make an effort and the thoughts and ideas of how to achieve goals will come; write down your plan and do not get up from the table until you make sufficient progress.

Tolstoy also set regimented schedules for himself: 9-10 a.m.: Bathe and exercise, 10-12 a.m,: Music, play a least four pages of sheets, all scales and chords; 6-8 p.m.: Attend to his studies; 8-10 p.m.: Estate management.

His time at the University of Kazan was an intense period of self-observation and served as a preparatory stage, filled with experimentation and vice, for where he wound up.

Ultimately, Tolstoy came to realize his aristocratic peers developed this heightened arrogance, believing they are in the best position guide their fellow man. The rejection of such self-perfection efforts was significant to Tolstoy developing into an elderly sage, where pilgrimages were made to his estate.

It is manifestly important to consider how Tolstoy embraces General Kutuzov as Napoleon’s opposite - as more Godly and attuned to the unknowable nature of life. This symbolic depiction made the old general a national hero.

This episode finishes by examining how the sinful ambitions he very much shared are fused into the characters of Napoleon, Boris, Berg, Anatole, Vasilly, Andrei, Pierre and Nicholas.

Three days after the review and a near 40 mile march south, Denisov’s squadron was assigned to be a reserve unit in the early stages of the monumental Battle of Austerlitz.

Rostov was in something of a depression, as he wasted the inner struggle it took to conquer his apprehension. While idle, he observed squadrons of Cossacks, hussars, infantry and artillery pass. Around 9 a.m., he heard firing and shouts. Later, a handful of French prisoners were brought back. A successful small affair culminated and the Village of Wishau was taken, building false confidence. The morning glitter of the sun was in keeping with news of the victory.

Denisov tried to cheer up Rostov, “Come here. Let’s dwink to dwown our gwief!” A fellow Hussar soon noticed: “There! They are bringing another!,” pointing to a captive French dragoon along with his horse. Denisov was able to buy the horse for two gold pieces with money from Rostov. The prisoner was from Alsace, a Rhine border area heavily influenced by German speakers. The Hussars realized their prisoner brought aspects of culture so alien to them. Such contacts and influences would have profound impact on the progression of history.

The day takes a dramatic upon shouts of “The Emperor! The Emperor!” as The Imperial Guard was spotted. All regret at not getting into action vanished and Rostov mounted his horse with joy. Nearer to him came that human sun and Rostov felt enveloped in his rays.

Rostov again heard Alexander’s voice, so kindly and calm, inquiring if he was passing “The Pavlograd Hussars.” The Emperor drew level with Rostov and halted. Alexander’s face shone with gaiety and youth. Rostov believed the Emperor’s light blue eyes met his but could only hope Alexander understood what was within his soul. The Czar soon signaled his horse and galloped away.

Tolstoy describes how Alexander could not resist being present and was thrilled by news of the successful engagement. The battle was represented as a brilliant victory, however, there was a mistaken belief that a solid portion of the French were retreating.

The Pavlograds were ordered to advance to Wischau -- described as a quant German town. Rostov saw the Emperor for a third time, here at a market place where there had been heavy firing and lay several killed and wounded.

The Emperor was riding a mare and leaning while holding at some magnifying glasses (a lorgnette). He gazed at a bleeding soldier who was so revolting that his proximity to royalty bothered Rostov. An adjutant lifted the soldier to place him on a stretcher, causing the soldier to groan. The Czar, so enthusiastic to put men in peril, instructed: “Gently, gently! Can’t you do it more gently?” Soon enough he rode away. Rostov saw tears filling the Emperor’s eyes and heard him say to his close advisor, Adam Czartorýski: “What a terrible thing war! Quelle terrible chose que la guerre!”

Soon enough, the Pavlograd Hussars were stationed before Wischau. The Emperor’s gratitude was announced, rewards were promised and the men received a double ration of vodka. The campfires crackled and soldiers’ songs resounded.

Denisov celebrated a promotion to the rank of major, and Rostov, quite inebriated, proposed a toast. To the “the health of our Sovereign, that good, enchanting and great man! Let us drink to his health and to the certain defeat of the French! If we fought before, not letting the French pass at Schön Grabern, what shall we not do now when he is at the front? We will all die for him gladly! Is it not so? Perhaps I am not saying it right, I have drunk a good deal—but that is how I feel, and so do you! To the health of Alexander the First!" Hurrah! Hurrah!” responded the Hussars. Even the old cavalry captain, Kirsten, shouted no less sincerely.

Later that night, Denisov patted Rostov and announced: “As there’s no one to fall in love with on campaign, he’s fallen in love with the Czar!.” Rostov told Denisov not to belittle his emotions and walked off to wander among the campfires, dreaming of what happiness it would be to die—not in saving the Emperor’s life but simply to die before his eyes. He was in love with the Czar and the hope of future triumph. He was hardly the only one to experience such pathos in those memorable moments preceding the true affair at Austerlitz.

The day after the review, Boris rides to Olmütz to build on his burgeoning relationship with Andrei, with the goal of obtaining a position of adjutant. He reflected, “It is all well for Rostov, whose father sends him 20,000 rubles at a time, to NOT wish to be anyone’s lackey, but I who have little but my brains, must not miss any opportunity!”

Olmütz was transformed into the headquarters where the Emperors resided. When Boris inquired of Andrei, he was shunned by officials who grew tired of the number of low-level officers who were coming and going. He learned Andrei would return the next day, so at that time Boris visited Kutuzov’s quarters and found Andrei in a reception room. He noticed Andrei with an older General, who was hardly keeping Andrei’s interest. Andrei, clearly part of the inner circle of influence, was ecstatic to interrupt the old man and turned to Boris with a smile. Boris realized that besides discipline, subordination and order prescribed in the official Army code, there was a more important way of life, which forced the General to the sideline. Boris resolved to become part of this higher world.

Andrei informed Boris that he had been occupied with the Austrian command and references the historic General Franz von Weyrother, who plays a critical role in the upcoming Battle of Austerlitz. Boris could only pretend to understand who Andrei was alluding to. Andrei conveys that he will recommend Boris for a position as an adjunct. Boris is thankful and very much desires an audience with Kutuzov but Andrei explains the commander’s staff is overflowing with many who have no use.

Andrei wishes to refer Boris to the historic advisor to the Czar, Peter Dolgorúkov, who Andrei labels “a good friend and excellent fellow.” Therefore, they went to the local palace where a significant council of war of the Hofkriegsrat and Russian Command just finished.

The consensus was to advance and vanquish Napoleon. Dolgorúkov was under the spell of the event, where the ambitions misguided youth prevailed. This was contrary to the views of Kutuzov. All voices who counseled delay were silenced by conclusive evidence of the victory that awaited. The advantages included: superior numbers, the perceived quality of troops, knowledge of the terrain, and that the allies were inspired by the Emperors.

Dolgorúkov was exhausted but eager for inevitable victory. Andrei introduced his protégé, but Dolgorúkov was unable to get beyond the impending action. Dolgorúkov referenced how Napoleon sent a letter, proposing peace, which was viewed as a ruse to gain time. Tolstoy brings out the historic affront crafted in response. Dolgorúkov explains “What was most amusing was how we could not think how to address our reply! Not to Napolean as ‘Consul’ nor ‘Emperor,’ or ‘General Bonaparte.’” The fictional Diplomat Bilibin jokingly suggested “Usurper and Enemy of Mankind.” What was agreed on was: To the Head of the French Government / Au chef du gouvernement français.

Andrei acknowledges how much Napoleon will be insulted, which makes Dolgorúkov recall a tale about Napoleon, who held held a reputation “as the most cunning and subtle diplomat, a combination of French adroitness and Italian play-acting!” On one purported occasion, Bonaparte wished to take the measure of a Russian ambassador, Count Markov, and purposely dropped a handkerchief and then stood looking at Markov, expecting Markov to assist. Instead, Markov dropped his own and picked it up without touching Bonaparte’s.

When Andrei reintroduces Boris, the young man receives passing acknowledgment, but is told his appeal will be addressed another time. Still, Boris was enraptured by his surroundings. He recognized he was among the springs that set in motion enormous movements of men. If left just in his regiment, he would consider himself an obedient and insignificant atom.

As exiting, they all noticed a short man with a clever face and sharply projecting jaw, who nodded to Dolgorúkov as to an intimate friend but stared at Andrei with cool intensity. “Who was that?” asked Boris. Andrei explained, “He is one of the most remarkable, but to me most unpleasant of men—the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Prince Adam Czartorýski.... It is such men as he who decide the fate of nations.”

Tolstoy is referencing an extremely significant Polish statesman, who lived to just over 90. At the time of the novel is set, Czartorýski was a close friend and trusted advisor to Tsar Alexander, but was later famous for trying restore sovereignty to Poland.

This second episode on the Calvary Maiden takes you through some of the formative years of the author, Nadezhda Durova.

Durova wrote briefly of her years growing up then focused on her time dressing as a man and serving for 10 years as a low-level officer in the Czar’s army, starting around 1806.

Her journals were source material for Tolstoy as to the lives of those who served in the period War & Peace is set, 1805-1812. It is presented to give you a glimpse into those frequently nameless and overlooked, who often gave their lives in the Napoleonic conflicts.

Durova’s story brings up still-relevant issues of identify, in terms how some who grew up in modern-day Ukraine or partitioned Poland, had different ties, (some to Polish nobility, others to Cossacks, some to Turks, others to runaway serfs), identified themselves. A number, like Durova, graciously accepted a life of service to the Czar. Others, like the former serf, Taras Shevchenko, or the Polish Diplomat, Adam Czartoryski, advanced the idea of nationhood and identity separate from Russian domination.

This episode is a brief overview of Durova’s experience from when she was 4 months-old, when she begins to articulate the ever-present animosity with her mother. This is illustrated with Durova being thrown out of a moving carriage upon her mother became frustrated while nursing. Her father then gave her to the primary care of one of his male servants, who Durova clung to at the sight of her mother. For her first four years of life, Durova’s family remained on the road, in military service, where she was affected by hussars shouting, drilling and riding their horses. This lifestyle attracted her.

Her Muscovite father recognized life with a growing family mandated a different position and traveled to Moscow in search of same. It was at that time that Durova and her mother returned to her parents’ home near the Poltova region in Ukraine. She spent time on the property marching, making forts, and pretending to be in hussar service. Her maternal grandparents, who initially rejected their Ukrainian daughter marrying a Muscovite, reconciled with the situation.

Durova’s father eventually received a commission to become a district mayor in Sarapul, near the Kama River in the foothills of the Ural Mountains. She spent the better part of a decade in this colder climate. She would often run away and explore nearby forests and rivers. Her father accepted her adventurous inclinations and gifted her horse, Alcides, who remained with Durova well into her military service. Durova would often wake up at the crack-of-dawn and take Alcides for a liberating run, with servants becoming accustomed to this unusual dynamic. This frustrated her mother to no end. However, her kind father and the rest of the family got a kick out of Durova’s precociousness. She remained in Sarapul until her mother grew tired of her presence and encouraged sending her back to Ukraine to live with her grandmother.

Tolstoy addresses the over-confidence of Napoleon’s adversaries prior to the battle of Austerlitz, when Kutuzov’s forces and the Austrians reached their limit of no further retreat, winding up near Olmütz. Here, Emperors Alexandr & Francis would review their troops that numbered around 80,000 (both seasoned and reinforcements) before a 40-mile march south to fight the French, who had around 50,000 soldiers near Brünn.

Napoleon’s supply lines were extended after traveling so far into the Holy Roman Empire and Kutuzov is historically thought to have been reticent to engage Napoleon as he thought it better to draw the French further east and wait for Prussia to align against Napoleon. Yet he recognized with two Emperors meeting face-to-face and the French occupying Vienna, there was a compelling reason to fight. He also recognized Alexandr wanted to be the first Czar since Peter I to lead a battle of such magnitude. Moreover, the recent skirmishes created a consensus, this would be where Napoleon’s magnificent run ended.

We are brought to the morning of the review. From the crack of dawn, there was preparation, with throngs of men moving and halting upon command. Groups turned with banners and wheeled around each other. Prominent was the rhythmic beating of hooves and drums while calvary soldiers were carried on their steeds. From the artillery wagons, polished cannons and guns glimmered. Every soldier was shaved, with weapons clean and polished and generals strutted in their fancy parade uniforms. Even the horses were groomed to the point their coats shined like satin.

This Review bordered on the sacred. The men held inner feelings of insignificance before Majesty but were also conscious of their strength as a part of an enormous tempest. By 10:00 a.m., the army was extended in three lines: cavalry in front, then artillery, and in the third row - infantry. All were ready to greet Alexandr and Francis. Soon enough, ran an excited whisper, “They’re coming!” Joy swept over the troops as hundreds of riders guarding the leaders moved closer as trumpets heralded. At the head where the two Emperors.

Alexander’s youthful but majestic voice was heard. Those nearby roared “Hurrah!” so deafeningly that the men were awed by their own power. Rostov was in that throng and experienced what all others had: self-forgetfulness, a proud consciousness of might and devotion. He knew a single word from him would lead all to go through fire and and perform deeds of the highest heroism. “Hurrah! continued to thunder.

Rostov was near the trumpeters and recognized the Tsar. He could distinguish every detail of his face. Alexandr’s every movement was enchanting. The Tsar said something in French to Francis. Every sound from him was a gift from heaven. Rostov felt the most powerful flow of love for his sovereign, which he longed to demonstrate and considered, “if the Emperor would speak to me, I would die of happiness.” The Tsar addressed the officers: “I thank you all, gentlemen, I thank you with my whole heart.”

When Alexandr moved down the line, he was accompanied by a sea of high-level aides. Rostov noticed Bolkonsky among them. When thinking of their recent quarrel, Rostov realized Andrei was correct to suggest the matter be dropped. Such a disagreement was “not even worth thinking of at such a moment! At a time of such love, rapture and such self-sacrifice. What do any such affronts matter? For, I love and forgive everybody!”

When the troops saw their Emperors, they instantly felt they could lay down their lives. It a phenomena that exists through the ages and Tolstoy gets you to question such devotion.

After some time, select soldiers began a ceremonial march past Alexandr, including Rostov, a who was a fine horseman. He rode Bedouin, recently purchased from Denísov and it seemed the animal knew he was in the presence of royalty. “Fine fellows, those Pavlograds!” commented the Emperor.

When it was over, the soldiers collected in groups and began to talk. All discussion soon turned to Bonaparte and how he would be vanquished, especially if reinforcements came from Prussia. Soon enough the conversation in every group centered on Emperor Alexandr. His every word and movement was described with ecstasy. They all had one wish: to advance as soon as possible! All felt they could not fail.

This edition examines the second Sevastopol Sketch, where Tolstoy covers an all-too-common artillery battle and truce afterward. It focuses on May of 1855, roughly six months into the 11-month Siege during the Crimean War.

In the recent W&P episode, Tolstoy describes how young soldiers are typically unable to speak the truth and will conform their wartime stories to the expectations of their audience, as well as put themselves in the best light. He plays this out using the fictional Rostov, who was fearful and shaky on this horse as he headed into one of his first calvary charges. Rostov’s horse was shot out from under him and he fell to the ground, disoriented. When he came to, Rostov quickly became in fear of losing his life and ran into the woods like an animal pursued, with the French in hot pursuit. He soon pondered, “Why did I even come here?” However, when he conveyed this event days later, he told his old friends (Boris & Berg) how he was in a frenzy while charging and slashing at the French. Truth was completely lost on the symbolic good-hearted lad.

Tolstoy, a decade before publishing W&P, memorably wrote that the hero of his second Sevastopol Sketch (roughly 35 pages), whom he loves with all of his soul, was Truth. It is something War obscures. He succeeded in conveying a truth of War in this sketch, namely its brutality.

Tolstoy describes how men, full of lofty and petty hopes, just hours before, now lie as corpses or hideously mangled casualties after an artillery battle typical to what he witnessed firsthand.

He conveyed that the men involved, as opposed to the ideal of Truth, could not be said to symbolize good or evil. They made up of the spectrum of human behavior: good bad and ugly. Some were motivated by serving their fellow man and others by vane concerns. Some were men of resolve, others of fickleness. The same could be said of the French.

He labels the mid-levels officers sending their fellow men to near-certain death as “petty Napoleons,” implying that they are enemies of each man fighting as much as those wearing opposing uniforms.

At the end of this Sketch, Tolstoy focuses on the aftermath of a battle where white flags are raised and time is granted to collect the dead and wounded. The townspeople come out and many of the soldiers converge. Their better natures are manifest. They pat each other on the back, speak of the valour exhibited, and even exchange small gifts like tobacco.

Tolstoy expresses that these men are Christians who should all profess the Love of Him above and discard their arms, fall on their knees in repentance, and embrace their brothers in Christ. Yet he acknowledges, this will not happen, as when the flags are raised, the malevolent cycle will repeat itself.

The latter part of this chapter has Nicholas Rostov continuing his parley with Boris and Berg. I broke it into two episodes because the latter section deals with the first interaction between Andrei and Nichols, who surprisingly are not familiar with one another.

After Rostov alludes to his award, Boris retrieves the money and letter from Rostov’s family. Upon reading a few lines, Rostov hid his face, ashamed he frightened his family over his trivial injury. Berg then makes the mistake of commenting on Rostov’s bounty; as Rostov was given an excuse to turn his frustration at Berg. Berg is asked to temporarily leave and Rostov is free to lament. Also in the correspondence was a letter of recommendation for a position with General Bagration. However, Rostov throws it away. He does not want to be anyone’s adjutant, which he views as a servant’s job. Boris picks it up and confesses how much he would prefer such a position.

When the wine arrived, Berg was invited back. Over the bottle, the conversation became animated with the friends relaying their adventures, one from the vantage point of a hussar and the others from service close to the Imperial family.

Attention soon focuses on how Rostov was hurt. Without any intention of dishonesty, he gave an exaggerated account and conformed his story to expectations of what a cavalry attack would be. Notably, Rostov couldn’t have told the Truth: that he fell off his horse and ran into the woods. Tolstoy is implying that young men who face battle are prone to spin such tales. Rostov goes on to describe the battle at Schöngrabern as a collective memory, incorporating the bravery of those around him.

Rostov fervently relayed how he was aflame with excitement, flying like a hurricane at the French and cutting them down with his saber. He was carried away with lies. Just as he was saying: “You cannot imagine the frenzy,” Prince Andrei, entered the room, looking for Boris, as he had received a letter from Pierre requesting he help the young lad advance in his career. Andrei took notice of the young braggart. Already disillusioned by war, Andrei could not stand such boasting. He composed himself and gave Boris a pleasant greeting but frowned at Rostov, who noticed the affront. Boris then inquired of the battle plans. “We shall probably advance,” was Andrei’s reply.

Andrei turned to Rostóv and asked him if he was at Schöngrabern. When Rostov replied he was, Andrei calmly noted: “Yes, there are many stories now told about that affair.” Rostov took the bait, saying “Yes, stories!, But ours are those of men who have been under fire! Our have some weight, not like the stories of those on the staff who get rewards for doing nothing”

“Of whom you imagine me to be one?” retorted Andrei, with an amiable smile. Rostov was irate but recognized his adversary’s self-possession. He mustered, “I don’t know you and, frankly, I don’t want to. I am speaking of the staff in general.” Andrei calmly continues “I see you wish to insult me, and it would be very easy to do so if you lack sufficient self-respect, but admit that the time and place are badly chosen as in a day or two we shall all have to take part in a greater duel.” He added, “you know my name and where to find me, but don’t forget that I do not regard either myself or you as having been insulted, and as a man older than you, my advice is to let the matter drop.”

Andrei takes his exit after telling Boris they will speak further after the review. Rostov soon leaves for his own camp on horseback and dwells on the interaction. He replayed the events, thinking what he ought to have said. He imagines challenging Andrei to a duel and covering him with a pistol. While he wanted to see that small proud man cower, at the same time he realized there was no one else he had come across that he would so much like to have as a friend.

This chapter begins to highlight the optimism of the Coalition approaching the Battle of Austerlitz. We also experience a rare crossing of the major characters, Nicholas and Andrei.

While Nicholas was riding with the Pavlograd Hussars, Boris was serving more comfortably with the Imperial Guard, accompanying Czar Alexander as he traveled toward Olmütz, Moravia, a mostly German speaking enclave of the Holy Roman Empire that sits along a tributary of the Danube River. The allies were uniting in their largest numbers with plans to square off against Napoleon’s Grande Armée. Kutúzov’s forces already reached Olmütz while the Guards were stationed 10 miles away. All units were preparing to be reviewed by Emperors Alexander and Francis II.

Nicholas receives a note from Boris, informing him that Boris arrived with the letter and money from his family. Nicholas was elated as he was dire need of funds and set off at once to find his childhood friend. Rostov’s unit was no longer on the run, so his camp swarmed with sutlers (civilian merchants). The Hussars held feast after feast, celebrating and receiving honors. Nicholas attained a promotion to cornet, a relatively low officer’s rank. He also had to buy Denisov’s horse, “Bedouin,” after his trusty “Rook” fell in battle. With such expenses, he was in serious debt.

Nicolas is over asking himself – Why am I Here? The morale of his unit infused him with a proud spirit, as he never obtained any personal glory. Nevertheless, he proudly dons his crumpled hussar cap and shabby cadet jacket. He wishes to appear more seasoned than anyone he will come across.

Commanded by Grand Duke Konstantin Pavlovich, the Imperial Guards made their march west as if on a pleasure trip, with knapsacks on carts and the finest of provisions from Austria. While supplies to Russia’s fighting regiments was notoriously poor, the Austrian authorities made sure the Imperial Guard and Emperor were well taken care of. Everywhere they stopped, bands and fanfare welcomed them and a grand ball was organized.

Boris had marched along and been quartered with Berg, who was promoted to Captain, mostly for competently arranging financial matters. Berg was rising in accord with his ambition. Boris also had his eyes on advancement, making acquaintance of many of influence. He received a letter of recommendation from Pierre and become acquainted with Andrei, through whom he hoped to gain a post on Kutuzov’s staff.

Nicholas finds Boris & Berg sitting, clean and neatly dressed, at a table in tidy quarters, playing chess. Nicholas enthusiastically greats them and imitates their old Nurse’s mangled French, saying “Petisenfans, allay cushay dormir!” Meaning, Oh children, go to sleep. All can immediately spot how much each has changed. They had not met for half a year and each young man had taken such important steps along life’s Road.

Boris rose to meet his old friend and Nicholas initially resisted because he wanted to roughhouse with Boris. Still, Boris acted in accord with etiquette , embracing Nicholas and kissing him three times. They then boisterously exchanged greetings and took notice of the attractive German land-lady. Nicholas points out how both his friend had become dandies. Soon they ordered wine.

Boris soon asks Nicholas about his experiences and if he has been under fire. Without speaking, Nicholas smiled and shook the cross of St. George fastened to his uniform and showcased his bandaged arm. The background of this award is significant as St. George (of Cappadocian Greek origin) was a 4th Century Roman Soldier who converted to Christianity and was martyred when he would not recant his faith. There is also a legend he slayed a dragon when a lovely princess was going to be sacrificed to the beast. Paintings and awards often depict his symbolic victory over evil. The figure and tale holds immense significance in Russian history.