Morning in the valley began long before the sun appeared above the hills.
The camp was already alive with noise.
Riders arrived from every road leading toward the valley. Columns of Cossacks rode in small groups, their horses covered with dust after long marches. Some led spare mounts behind them, while others guided wagons loaded with saddles, carbines, ammunition crates, and bundles of equipment.
The regiment was gathering.
Men dismounted, greeted old comrades, searched for their assigned squadrons, and tried to understand where they belonged.
Horses snorted and stamped the ground impatiently.
Somewhere near the wagons two officers were already arguing loudly about the distribution of mounts.
Skoropadskyi stood on a small hill overlooking the camp.
From there he could see almost everything.
The valley that had been empty only days earlier was now filled with hundreds of riders, horses, wagons, and tents.
Behind him stood his adjutant holding several sheets of paper.
—"How many have arrived?" Skoropadskyi asked.
The adjutant checked the lists.
—"Almost half the regiment, Colonel."
Skoropadskyi nodded.
Below them several officers struggled to organize their men.
A group of Cossacks stood near a wagon trying to understand which squadron they belonged to.
Another officer shouted across the field.
—"Second squadron! Over here!"
But several riders continued moving in the wrong direction.
The adjutant sighed.
—"It looks like chaos."
Skoropadskyi watched calmly.
—"It always does in the beginning."
He glanced across the valley again.
—"In a week it will look like a regiment."
More riders arrived.
Dust rose from the road as another column entered the camp.
After some time the adjutant folded the lists.
—"Most of them are here now."
Skoropadskyi turned his horse toward the open field.
—"Good."
He looked across the camp.
—"Form them up."
The adjutant rode down the hill and began passing the order.
Within minutes commands began spreading through the camp.
Cossacks mounted their horses and guided them toward the field.
Squadrons slowly gathered into formation.
But the lines came together with difficulty.
Some squadrons stood in the correct place.
Others were mixed together.
Cossacks from different units tried to understand where they belonged.
One officer shouted repeatedly:
—"Second squadron here! Form up here!"
A rider cursed under his breath while adjusting his saddle.
Another struggled to control a restless horse.
Skoropadskyi watched silently.
Gradually the formation began to straighten.
Several hundred riders now stood across the field.
Some were veterans with weathered faces.
Others were younger men who had only recently left the military schools.
Skoropadskyi rode slowly along the line.
The riders watched him carefully.
Some nodded respectfully.
Others simply waited.
When he stopped before the formation, the talking slowly faded.
Silence spread across the field.
Skoropadskyi looked across the regiment.
—"You come from different units," he said calmly.
His voice carried clearly across the field.
—"Some of you have fought together before. Many of you have not."
He paused briefly.
—"But from today you are one regiment."
The riders listened silently.
—"Cavalry lives on speed, discipline, and reconnaissance."
He pointed toward the distant hills.
—"If a regiment moves slowly, it becomes useless."
A faint wind moved across the field.
—"So we begin with training."
The speech was short.
But the men understood the message.
Skoropadskyi turned toward the adjutant.
—"Begin the exercises."
The squadrons moved out across the field.
At first the movement looked smooth.
But soon the problems appeared.
One squadron drifted too far to the right.
Another slowed down.
Several riders hurried to catch up with the formation.
Officers shouted commands.
Horses stumbled and corrected their pace.
After several minutes Skoropadskyi raised his hand.
—"Stop."
The order passed quickly along the line.
The regiment halted.
Skoropadskyi rode toward the officers.
—"Do you see the problem?" he asked.
One young officer answered carefully.
—"The men don't know each other yet."
Skoropadskyi nodded.
—"Exactly."
He pointed across the field.
—"Cavalry must move as one body."
His gaze moved across the squadrons.
—"If one squadron moves faster than the others, the entire formation breaks."
He paused.
—"We try again."
The exercises continued for several hours.
Gradually the movements improved.
The men were beginning to understand each other's rhythm.
Later that afternoon a group of riders approached the headquarters.
There were about ten of them.
Young officers.
They dismounted and approached the adjutant.
—"Officers from the academy reporting for duty."
The adjutant nodded and turned toward Skoropadskyi.
—"Colonel, the new officers have arrived."
Skoropadskyi stepped forward.
One of the young men spoke first.
—"Second Lieutenant Oleksandr Slyvynsky."
The name sounded familiar.
For a moment Skoropadskyi studied his face.
Then he remembered.
Poltava.
The lecture hall.
—"We have met before," he said.
Slyvynsky nodded.
—"Yes, Colonel. In Poltava."
Skoropadskyi looked at him more carefully.
—"So you chose the war."
—"Yes."
The answer was simple.
Skoropadskyi glanced at the other officers.
—"You will be assigned to the squadrons."
He turned to the adjutant.
—"Write down the assignments."
The adjutant began making notes.
Skoropadskyi looked at the young officers again.
—"Rest today."
He paused.
—"Tomorrow the real work begins."
When the officers left, the adjutant spoke quietly.
—"They are very young."
Skoropadskyi watched the field where the regiment was still training.
—"In a month they will not be."
By evening the first day of training ended.
But the work of the regiment was far from over.
Skoropadskyi gathered the officers around a map.
—"Tonight we ride south."
Several officers looked at each other.
—"A reconnaissance patrol," Skoropadskyi continued.
He traced a road on the map.
—"We will see how the regiment moves outside the camp."
The officers nodded.
Night fell quickly over the valley.
Campfires burned quietly as Cossacks prepared their horses.
Orders moved through the camp in low voices.
Skoropadskyi mounted near the headquarters.
The adjutant approached.
—"The regiment is ready."
Skoropadskyi nodded.
—"Move out."
The column left the camp slowly.
Hundreds of horses moved quietly through the darkness.
The road passed between low hills.
Moonlight covered the fields.
Scouts rode ahead.
After some time one of them returned.
—"There is a road ahead."
—"Tracks?"
—"Yes."
Skoropadskyi leaned slightly forward in the saddle.
—"Fresh?"
—"Very."
Skoropadskyi looked down at the map.
—"Japanese patrol?"
—"Possibly."
He turned to the officers.
—"First squadron forward. The rest keep distance."
The orders moved quietly down the column.
Soon dark shapes appeared ahead on the road.
Several riders.
The Japanese patrol noticed the movement almost at the same moment.
One of them shouted.
Skoropadskyi raised his hand.
—"Forward."
The clash was brief.
Several shots cracked through the night.
Horses thundered across the road.
The Japanese riders tried to scatter.
Within moments it was over.
One officer rode up beside Skoropadskyi.
—"The patrol scattered. Two escaped."
Skoropadskyi looked down the road.
—"We go no farther."
The officer asked,
—"Why?"
Skoropadskyi answered calmly.
—"We came for reconnaissance."
He paused.
—"Not for a battle."
The regiment turned and rode back toward camp.
When they returned, dawn was already approaching.
Horses breathed heavily after the ride.
Officers gathered near the headquarters.
The adjutant spread the map across the table.
Skoropadskyi pointed to the road.
—"The patrol was here."
He looked at the officers.
—"What did you notice?"
One officer said,
—"They were not expecting us."
—"True," Skoropadskyi replied.
He traced a line on the map.
—"But we made a mistake."
The officers leaned closer.
—"The column moved too close together."
He pointed along the route.
—"If that had been a larger enemy force, we would have had trouble."
The officers nodded.
Then Slyvynsky spoke.
—"Colonel, if they had seen us earlier… should we still have attacked?"
Skoropadskyi thought for a moment.
—"No."
He folded the map.
—"Then we would have avoided them."
He looked at the officers.
—"Our job is to see the enemy."
A short pause followed.
—"Not always to fight him."
The officers slowly nodded.
Skoropadskyi turned away from the table.
—"That is enough for today."
He glanced toward the camp.
—"Tomorrow we repeat the exercise."
The officers dispersed.
The camp was waking again.
Somewhere far away artillery thunder rolled across the hills.
The war continued.