Chapter Two
World War One
Being situated close to the German border, our town
of Shavli became a center for wartime activities. Shortly after the declaration of war,
Russian soldiers started to move through the city in endless columns. Their infantry,
which always moved on foot, used to travel hundreds of miles direct from the center of
Russia to the border. We would watch them pass by with their shinel (great coats) rolled
up over their shoulders and secured at the waist with their belts. They wore heavy boots
and had containers for meals attached to their belts. Their ammunition also hung around
their waists.
After the infantry came the artillery, their heavy
guns towed by three or more pairs of horses. Their kitchens and provisions moved across
the city day and night. Everything was moving to the western front. Shavli was full of
soldiers all the time. They were billeted in every house-- every family had to give up a
part of their space for them. Half of our house was given up to a group of infantrymen.
I had a lot of fun around the soldiers because they
used to tell all kinds of stories about their exploits. One of them, a tall man by the
name of Kuchta, was very friendly. He was always in high spirits, probably because he used
to be drunk most of the time. He taught me how to take care of a rifle--how to take it
apart and put it back together again. I even tried shooting with it. In the evenings the
soldiers used to sit around and play the harmonica and sing Russian folk songs. Then they
would get the order to move, only to be replaced by other companies.
It wasn't long before another traffic started
crossing through in the opposite direction. These were the wounded, bloody, bandaged and
suffering. They travelled in dilapidated horse-drawn vehicles back toward Russia. In one
of these vehicles I came across, just by accident, Kuchta. He was badly wounded and could
hardly talk to me.
For me, the whole war was a chain of very
interesting events. I didn't realize what the general situation of the war was. The fact
was that the early Russian victories didn't last long and, in a few months, the Germans
counterattacked. The Russians suffered a tremendous defeat in the famous Battle of
Tannenberg. After that the slow advance of the Germans to the east began. Soon, they were
approaching our area. Prince Micholai Nicholaiyevitsch, a cousin of the Tzar, was
appointed as the chief of the army at this time and, as he did not trust the Jewish
population of our area, he decreed that all the Jews had to move from the Pale of
Settlement eastward. The time allotted for this move was limited and, as a result, quite a
panic ensued. People used all means of transportation to move. Our family was lucky enough
to get onto a railway car.
We first moved to Vitebsk, where we stayed for
about a year, then to the small town of Bogorodsk, approximately forty miles from Moscow.
The office of Frankel's tannery also moved to this town for a short time before it found
plush offices in the center of Moscow. There, in Bogorodsk, we found a large suite in a
building on the main street of the city. Part of this building was occupied by the offices
of the tannery. On the first day of the decree to move, my grandfather died suddenly.
Grandmother had to move with other people to Russia, where she finally joined us in
Bogorodsk. Soon after the decree, the German army occupied the western area where we
lived, but they were stopped somewhere in White Russia.
Bogorodsk was a typical Russian town altogether
different from Shavli. I still remember that the railway station had a "red
corner" which was illuminated by candles and icons. Everyone used to kneel in this
place and cross themselves right there at the station. The main street of the town was
occupied by businesses which carried on in the traditional Russian manner, each business
being handed down from father to son to grandson. These Russian people were a very solid
and sturdy type.
For me this was a critical time because I had to
get into school. There was a "Real" high school in Bogorodsk. (In a
"Real" high school such things as math, science and engineering were taught. Gymnasium,
on the other hand, concentrated on the humanities.) I intended to go into second year but
to be accepted I had to pass exams in all subjects. One of the exams was drawing by hand,
which was something I had never learned to do, so I went to another town which was not far
away, Pokrov, where there was a Gymnasium. There I passed the necessary exams and
was accepted. Later, I transferred back to the "Real" school in Bogorodsk.
Before the war there were no Jews in Bogorodsk
except for one "Nicholai soldier". Many years previously, Tzar Nicholai the
First, grandfather of then-ruling Nicholai the Second, used to mobilize young boys between
the ages of nine and twelve and keep them in the army for twenty-five years. Usually,
Jewish parents used to hide their boys and there was a special group of people--Happars
(Catchers)--who would search out the boys whenever possible and transfer them into the
army. After twenty-five years of service they were released. People used to call them
"Nicholai soldiers". Jews who had served their full term in the army had all
restrictions on Jews removed from them. This conscription of boys had been discontinued by
my time. One such man was living in Bogorodsk at the time. He was a very fine old
gentleman and very good to us.
The schools in Russia used to run six days a week,
Monday to Saturday. This created a problem for me. What was I to do about Saturdays? It
was unimaginable that I should write on Saturday or that I should carry books to school on
that day. My father went to the principal and explained my situation to him. The
principal, unacquainted with Jews, had never heard of such crazy requirements but said
that he had nothing against them and that it would depend on the individual teachers. All
of the teachers except one were cooperative. They never called me to the board on
Saturdays and never gave any written tests on that day. The exception was a teacher of the
German language, a German man by nationality. He did just the opposite. As a result, every
summer I had to write a special exam in German to be able to be transferred to the next
level. I passed them all with ease.
Looking back, I must admire the other boys in that
school--my friends. Boys are usually inclined to be rude at that age, especially with a
newcomer in school and even more so with a "different" newcomer such as I was.
They, however, were very good to me. I can't remember any unpleasant incident or any
discrimination shown toward me in games or otherwise. For a couple of years it was an
established tradition that on Saturdays I would walk through the town to the outskirts
where the school was located with a maid carrying my books. At the end of the day we would
proceed in a similar fashion back home. I became a preferred pupil in that school where
never before in their lives had they seen a Jew.
We had a lot of homework in school and quite often
I used to study together with a friend of mine, a Russian boy by the name of Grisha. We
used to study alternately at his house and my house and I was very well-accepted by his
family. Then on a certain day in the spring of 1916, when it was his turn to come to my
house to study arithmetic, he refused. When I insisted that he tell me why he refused to
come to my place he reluctantly revealed his reason. He told me he was afraid to go to a
Jewish home in the days before Passover because he thought he might be killed and his
blood used for making matzos--so deep were anti-Jewish prejudices imbedded in the Russian
population. Our previous good relationship was resumed immediately the eight days of
Passover were over.
In the meantime the war was progressing. The number
of Jewish families in Bogorodsk increased and people of various professions established
themselves in this town. My father looked for a teacher for me--a rebbe--for Jewish
religious education and found, first, a man who was the owner of a "restaurant".
His wife used to serve his customers in her living room with good-tasting Jewish dishes.
We, the pupils, used to have to help them with the dishes, cleaning house and other
chores. I don't remember exactly what the program was in my Jewish studies at that time. I
do remember that we had lots of fun and learned nothing.
The second rebbe I had in Bogorodsk was an awful
person. He was an older man with a greying beard. He used to be very strict with us and
enforced discipline by keeping a cane handy at all times. He was a very dirty fellow. Lice
crawled on his jacket. The tract we took up with him was Gitten. That, directly
translated, means "rules about divorces". In general, it is supposed to be rules
about family relationships. The fact that I don't remember anything from this part of the Talmud
shows that I was not interested. This kind of Jewish education didn't appeal to anybody
and didn't last long.
I had another religious influence in my life at
that time. Just across the street from us there settled a Yeshiva which was evacuated from
the town of Tavrik in Lithuania. The rabbi there allowed me, in my free time from school,
to listen to his lectures and to study Gemorrah. I very much enjoyed the company of
the pupils (who were called Yeshiva-Bochurim and who ranged in age from the teens
to the middle twenties). After regular hours these young men used to have a good time
telling stories. They would also use any available pretext for going out of town for walks
in the woods and any religious holiday to arrange plays and dances (no girls). Their
company helped to keep me on the right track where religiosity was concerned. They were,
to me, a counterbalance to the general trend in Russia at that time which was away from
religion and toward the revolution.
Although there was at that time no radio or
television and the press was censored by the government, the news from the front and from
high political circles spread from mouth to mouth. It was a time of heavy defeats for the
Russian army and of big intrigues around the Tzar. We were influenced by the news about
Rasputin as well. This ex-monk from deep Russia got into favor with Nicholai the Second's
wife, Alexandra. She believed he had healing powers which could help her ailing son Alexis
who was a hemophiliac. In a short time Rasputin gained tremendous influence in the Tzar's
family and, through that, in the government, especially during the time the Tzar was at
the front as commander in chief of the army. Rasputin forced himself into high society
where he hired and fired the highest officials. All the ladies of society were at his
mercy and anybody who dared say a word against him risked being punished by Alexandra.
There was no secret about his debaucheries and the whole population of Russia knew what
was going on there in Petrograd. These stories, in addition to the bad news from the front
and the bad economic situation of the country, greatly enhanced the revolutionary movement
in Russia. All these news items were debated by everyone.
I was at that time a boy of eleven or twelve and
not too interested in politics. My older sisters, however, used to participate in various
meetings in our house and much of the truth of what was happening filtered into my mind. I
used to get a lot of indoctrination in politics through a man who was employed in the
office of the tannery as a bookkeeper. His name was Teitelbaum.
I was also, for a certain time, employed by the
office and was paid five rubles a month. My job was to type up addresses and make copies
of letters and financial statements. This job wasn't easy. At that time carbon paper had
not been invented, never mind Xerox. Letters used to be copied by using a certain type of
ink for the original. This original was then put in a book which had very thin paper. The
paper was brushed with a damp paintbrush and then the book was closed and put under a
press. After a couple of hours the ink would be transferred to the paper and you had your
copy in the book. That, and the filing of documents, was my job.
After a certain time in the job I felt that I
should be paid better and I asked Teitelbaum what to do about it. (The boss was my
father.) Teitelbaum said: "Well, that's simple enough. Just write to the
company." He gave me the text and told me to sign, "Proletarian Meyer
Kron". I asked him what "proletarian" meant. His reply was: "You are
not supposed to know yet what it means." The fact was that that word was used a lot
around Russia during that revolutionary time. In ruling circles proletarian was a despised
expression. The general trend in the middle classes was to protect the children from
getting involved in the turbulence of the revolutionary movement.
During the February Revolution in 1917, the Tzar
was removed from power in Russia. This was a great event and caused terrific excitement
all over the country. The endless demonstrations by the people, with their revolutionary
slogans and signs, were very exciting. The boys from the Yeshiva across the street
participated in these demonstrations and everybody felt happy and full of hope for the
future. The Jewish people were the happiest because they believed that NOW there would be
no more oppression.
Following the removal of the Tzar a provisional
government was set up. In no time various political parties appeared on the scene.
Bolsheviks, Mensheviks, social revolutionaries--everybody started propaganda programs for
their parties for the upcoming elections of the Constituent Assembly. Everyone was ready
for the elections. But they did not come to pass because of the Coup of November--the
so-called October Revolution.
The October Revolution came at the time when the
Constituent Assembly of the new order was to be set up. Lenin, the leader of the
Bolsheviks, suddenly appeared on the scene after travelling in a clandestine railway car
from Switzerland through Germany to Russia. Lenin had been banned from Russia by the Tzar
and had been organizing the revolution from Switzerland. His party was well organized by
the time he arrived.
While the Mensheviks wanted to continue the war
with Germany, the Bolsheviks were against it. Their ambition was to make peace on any
terms. "Bread and Peace" was their slogan. As a result, the Germans, who were
fighting on two fronts--in the east with Russia and in the west with France and
Britain--wanted the Bolsheviks in power in Russia as this would eliminate their Eastern
Front and allow them to concentrate on France and Britain. They therefore allowed Lenin to
pass through Germany and, in fact, helped him to reach Russia.
The November Coup succeeded. When Lenin arrived he
had not only the navy behind him but a good part of the workers as well. He also had the
soldiers. The soldiers, who were fighting on the front, wanted peace, naturally. At the
time of the first meetings of the new parliament, the marines aimed the guns of their
armored ships at the parliament buildings and the Bolsheviks stormed the buildings and
took over power.
A new era began then in Russia and, actually, in
the whole world. These events happened in the Tzarist capital of Petrograd (now
Leningrad). Petrograd is quite a distance from Moscow, which is situated in the central
part of Russia, but the news spread very fast. The Bolsheviks, having seized power,
eliminated in a short time all other parties. They abolished the old capitalist system to
organize something new - the soviet system. (A soviet is a committee.) New slogans
appeared. "All power to the Soviets"; "Proletarians from all countries
unite!"
News of these events was not late in coming to
Moscow and to Bogorodsk. Life in the little town of Bogorodsk was affected in many ways.
There was no more Yeshiva. The public school became less disciplined. Some teachers
disappeared and the students were put in charge of the school. Committees were established
for the Chemistry lab, for the Physics department and for every other department. At the
same time, more cultural activities appeared on the scene. A People's University was
established as well as a music school and many free lectures were given in different
places on political and materialistic subjects. There was much excitement.
By that time I had become Bar Mitzvah (a
Jewish boy who reaches his thirteenth birthday). This was not such an elaborate affair as
it is today in Vancouver. We had no synagogue and religious services used to be held once
a week in a private house with perhaps two scores of people attending. In this setting I
read my Maftir (portion of the Prophets a Bar Mitzvah boy reads in public).
After prayers we had a couple of our friends over to our house for the kiddush
(festive religious meal). I got some presents--the works of Tolstoy from my older sisters
and the works of An-Ski from the younger set of sisters. I got a violin from my uncle,
Bere-Meyshe. This last gift and the fact that a music school was established in Bogorodsk
helped me to become interested in music.
The consequences of the October Revolution were
very far-reaching and complicated. Normal life in the whole vast Russian Empire collapsed.
The Germans continued their aggression and millions of Russian soldiers were killed or
starved to death due to lack of food or lack of transportation. In a short time the whole
country began to feel the squeeze. There was no food, there were no industrial products
and, as time went on, shortages increased. In our family the situation was bad and getting
worse. My father lost his job, naturally, as the whole business of the tannery collapsed.
He got another job temporarily as bookkeeper. His salary was sixteen kilograms of grain
per month. I used to bring the grain to the mill and mother used to bake bread from it.
Tzilia got a job as a private teacher and she was paid two kilograms of sugar per month.
Soon thereafter my father became very ill with
colitis and could hardly do anything at all. By this time the older sisters were in Moscow
finishing university. They could barely supply themselves with the necessities of life.
Yaakov was on the move all the time and couldn't help too much so, as it turned out, I
became the main breadwinner in the family.
The only way of winning bread was the Black Market.
There were very large textile factories around Bogorodsk, called Morozoff Manufacturing,
which produced mostly silk. The people at the factory used to steal this to be sold on the
Black Market. I used to get bolts of silk from neighbours. These I would twist around my
body, cover them with my clothes and smuggle them into Moscow by train. This was very
dangerous and was made more so by the fact that the silk was noisy and could easily be
detected. I would go to the train very early--at 5:00 a.m--board it and lie down on the
top shelf which, actually, was designed for luggage. There I would lie until we arrived in
Moscow. The trip sometimes took up to three or four hours and did not always go smoothly.
Sometimes there were complaints from the people who were "downstairs" from me.
They wondered where the "rain" was coming from. I was a young boy and could not
always contain myself. They couldn't do much about it, however, because the train was so
jammed that they could not move to call the police.
With the police I didn't have any problem. Although
they checked almost everybody when we entered Kurski station in Moscow nobody paid any
attention to me. As a small, slight school boy I passed through the gates unnoticed. The
material which I smuggled was sold to "speculators" and was finally transformed
into money or food.
My sisters, at that time, were living in a very
beautiful apartment at number nine on Kreevokoleny Lane in central Moscow. This apartment
was situated in the building where the offices of the tannery had been located. In
October, when the offices closed down, the ten rooms of this apartment were occupied by
ten different tenants. One of these rooms was occupied by my sisters, who stayed there
until last year. They lived there exactly sixty years. Later on, Chaytze married and her
husband lived there as well.
Comfort was not too high in the apartment. The
toilet and bathroom were usually out of order and the gas not functioning. In the kitchen
every tenant had a primus (a kerosene burner). By the door there was an electric
bell and you signaled by the number of times you pressed the bell which room you wished to
enter.
There were many difficulties during this period of
time but they didn't affect me as a boy. Every time I went to Moscow I stayed a couple of
days. I liked to go to the Bolshoi Theatre and to other theatres and to ballets and
concerts. Naturally, I had no way to buy tickets at the door, but as far as I remember, I
never failed to get in. I would wait until the big crowd had gone in so there would be no
witnesses and would then negotiate with the doorman. Sometimes, though, especially in
winter, these experiences were not very pleasant. One evening I was desperate. All my
attempts to get into the Bolshoi had failed. I went to the end of the horse-shoe-like
corridor which surrounded the great performance hall where I noticed a camouflaged door. I
tried to open it, it gave way, and I entered a dark place with a winding staircase leading
upward. It took me to the top floor and directly into a box with a beautiful view of the
stage. After that I had no problems getting into the theatre.
As time progressed a shortage of fuel developed for
driving the train, which was fueled by wood. The regular travelling time now became twice
as long and we used to be lucky to arrive at our destination in five or six hours. Often
the train would stop in a forest wherever the fireman spotted cut wood and the passengers
would help load the locomotive with wood.
During one of these journeys, on a severe winter
night, we arrived in Moscow very late. It was the middle of the night. On this occasion I
had no textiles with me but I had a sack, tied at the end and tied, as well, in the middle
so that I could carry it balanced over my shoulder. This was filled with very valuable
things like potatoes and carrots, bread and other foods for my sisters. It was a very cold
night and I had to walk for about an hour from the station to the city. When I came to
number nine Kreevokoleny Lane the door was locked and, as I might have expected, the bell
was not functioning. I tried and tried again but there was no response to my ringing.
Eventually I lay down and, using my sack as a
pillow, fell asleep in front of the door. Luckily, one of the tenants of the ten-story
building came home in time and found me before I froze. I was half-dead and at that
temperature could not have survived for more than ten or fifteen minutes longer. My doctor
sister knew exactly what to do to revive me properly so that there would be no ill effects
later on. I was lucky that time.
By chance I found another source of revenue for my
family a little later on. As I said, I was the only man in the family by this time and I
had to procure fuel for the ovens along with everything else. I used to bring wood from
the forest surrounding Bogorodsk by sleigh and would chop the wood up in a shed near our
home. It was while chopping wood that I heard a kind of hollow sound from the floor. I
looked and found a space under the floor where, to my surprise, I found a huge box full of
table salt packed into neat packages of one pound each. Because at that time money had
little value and salt was scarce we used the salt I found to procure other kinds of food.
This find kept us alive--the whole family--for a long time.
The general situation in Russia at that time
continued to deteriorate. While the Bolsheviks tried to expand their power under the
leadership of Lenin, Trotsky, and their colleagues, that part of the population which
remained loyal to the Tzar started to organize. Some generals put together their own
so-called "White Armies" which inflicted heavy casualties on the newly organized
Red Army. Kolchack, Denykin and other "White" generals occupied sizable
territories in the south and east of Russia and were moving toward Moscow. At that time
the western powers, which had been left to fight the Germans alone after the Russians made
their separate "Peace of Brest" agreement with Germany, landed troops in the far
east and in the south of Russia in an attempt to quell the revolution.
A civil war of tremendous activity developed in the
whole country. The civil population was the main victim. Besides shortages of food and
clothing, there were epidemics of typhoid fever and, later, hispanka (now called
the Russian Flu) killed millions. We had no medicines at the time and there was no such
thing as vaccinations.
I imagine that the grown-ups suffered very much
from all this but it didn't really affect me. I was a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old boy
and, as far as I remember, I was quite happy and busy with trying to feed the family,
playing music and going to various lectures, especially those concerned with Russian
history and biology.
The salt I found in the barn was a great help to
us, but we still had the problem of the scarcity of food. It was impossible for us to find
bread, butter and other articles, even in exchange for salt. Then I heard that more food
was available in the south of Russia around the Volga and many people went down there in
search of it. Naturally, this was a job for grown-up men but, not having anyone else in
our family who would be able to do something about the situation, I joined some neighbours
who were going south and we went together. I took some packages of salt and, somehow, I
had managed to obtain a pair of shoes to trade for food. I also took my brother Yaakov's
coat and, with this and my salt as capital, I joined the group.
It wasn't just a question of buying a ticket and
then sitting in a railway car. To get into a car was a very difficult problem. The trains
were very crowded. People travelled on the steps of the wagons and on the roofs. However,
my group somehow managed to get on the train. We disembarked in a field at a station
called Mylnaya which is near the Volga. The nearest village was eleven kilometers away.
Naturally, we walked this distance and, to me, it was an extremely trying journey. I
scarcely had the power to drive myself along with the group of sturdy men with whom I
travelled. It was a very hot summer day and I thought I would not survive the trip to the
village. However, I got there with the rest of them and we spread out to different peasant
people in our search for food. I knocked at the door of a house and, as it turned out, it
was the doctor's house. He and his family put me in the kitchen together with a maid and
gave me food and promised to help me barter for food supplies to take home. At the end of
a day or two I was a rich man. I had accumulated about twenty puds (approximately
800 pounds) of grain, butter, meal, meat, water melons and many other kinds of foodstuffs.
The doctor also helped to arrange transportation
back to the railway station for me and my bounty and I gathered again with my group in the
same field where we had landed. Then the difficulties began. Tens of thousands of people
were sitting on the fields in this area with their sacks of goods. There were people as
far as you could see in all directions, but no trains came. As it turned out, this was a
critical location in the civil war. We were close to the only bridge over the Volga. From
the other side of the Volga, Kolchack was approaching with his armies and, while we waited
there, the bridge was blown up. Consequently, there was no way for north-bound trains to
cross the river to where we were. A committee was organized to do something about the
situation, but the only thing they could do was send telegrams to Lenin and to Trotsky
asking for trains.
At first we hoped to get a train in a day or two.
Later on, week passed after week. Only after five weeks of waiting did the first set of
wagons arrive. One can imagine what kind of a fight broke out as to who should be the
first to get on the train. I was lucky again.
When I left for the trip mother had given me a
little basket with various items for first aid: iodine, bandages, etc. Being in the field
where all kinds of injuries occurred every day I became the first aid man. Because of this
and because I was the youngest of all of them I was the first to be put on the train with
my goods. This wasn't a passenger wagon but a cattle wagon. Despite this, we (myself and
the others) were happy that we got in at all with our sacks of food.
It took another two weeks before we arrived home.
We were stopped at several stations and our goods were searched by the NKVD. Somehow, it
had been decided not to let anyone bring more than forty pounds of food home. However,
through all kinds of tricks, we managed to secure about three-quarters of our bounty. We
had to give the rest away to the authorities.
The inside of the train we travelled in was
terribly hot and dirty. All kinds of insects, including lice, covered everyone. The trains
used to stand for hours at a station waiting for a locomotive. At these times, we used to
try to swim in the nearest river, wash our clothes in a pool or get hot water for a cup of
tea. The rest of the waiting was boring. The men used to sit under the wagons to keep in
the shade and play cards. Money had no value so they gambled for grain.
One such day I was somewhere around the train when
I heard a shot. A fellow in our group had lost all his goods playing cards. Most likely he
had had a good shot of Vodka as well. In any case, he couldn't stand the loss and shot
himself.
It was a miracle that I finally got home. Once
there, I did not enter the house until I had thrown away my clothes and burned them so as
not to bring any lice in. Lice are the main carriers of typhoid.
This journey, which was supposed to last three or
four days, took instead several weeks. I wasn't scared but I can imagine how my mother
suffered, not knowing my whereabouts and hearing that the Syzran bridge had been
destroyed. I was told later that mama never went to bed all this time. As a result of this
trip and the goods I brought home, the situation in our family improved greatly.
As time passed the Soviet regime established itself
completely. The White Armies were destroyed. The Allied capitalist states suffered a
fiasco. They had landed in Russia to overthrow the government but they were driven off.
The new government took its first steps toward organizing a new life and a new society for
the country.
The Bolsheviks had very high ideals about a just
society where there would be no exploitation of one group of people by another group.
Theoretically, the aim of communism was to establish a society where everyone would
receive according to his needs and give according to his ability. In the ideal communist
society, everyone would do the best he could and the goods would be distributed to
everyone according to need. That was a very high ideal but, in actuality, it was
impossible to carry out unless the country has unlimited prosperity and very high
productivity. However, until this is achieved, they must be contented with
"socialism" where everyone gives according to his abilities and receives
according to his achievement. This is why Soviet Russia calls itself, not Union of Soviet
Communist Republics, but Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. Thus a situation developed
in Russia in which citizens who worked longer hours or produced more received better pay
than their friends who did less. Physically or intellectually more able people received
more advantages in materials goods than less well-equipped individuals. Thus there arose
different classes with different earnings, different status and different standards of
living.
Private property, even in agriculture, was
abolished. All factories, buildings, real estate and farms were taken over by the local
soviets and only selected people were entrusted with heading the country. Most of them
were ill-equipped and looked out for their own interests. Consequently the whole economy
went to ruin. Factories had no materials, money was worthless, services were not provided
and, to more-or-less keep order, a drastic totalitarian regime had to be established, the
dictatorship of the proletariat. This was a regime of terrorism originating with the
government and it swept all around this huge country with unimaginable ferocity. In the
beginning the government agency responsible for this was called Tchresvytchika (Cheka)
or "extraordinary commission". Later it was called GPU and today it is called
the NKGB. Under this organization agents penetrated the whole country - all towns and
villages, offices and factories, collective farms and schools. Nobody was immune or
unnoticed by the agents of the organization and fear engulfed the whole country. People
did not trust their own brothers. Arrests occurred every day and this continued with
unrelenting furor for years, far beyond the death of Lenin and until the death of his
successor, Stalin. Especially in Stalin's time, millions of people, including leading
communists, military commanders, scientists and artists were put to death.
In later years, after Stalin's death, the brutality
of the regime relented a little, but there is still no freedom in the country. People are
controlled by fear of authority wherever they go and whatever they do. They cannot travel
where they want, cannot correspond freely with people abroad, cannot read any literature
except that which is allowed by the authorities. Even musical compositions and art are
regulated by law.
Up to this day people in the Soviet Union never had
a taste of freedom. The standard of living there is still very low. As one of my friends,
Slavkin, a professor of Marxism and Leninism in Moscow, put it, "There is no way to
have a normal economy when nobody is personally interested."
After the peace treaty with Germany in 1918
Lithuania became an independent state and it was proclaimed that residents of Lithuania
before the war had the option of becoming Lithuanian citizens. The Soviet government gave
their consent to this.
In our critical position this seemed to be a ray of
light and my father put in an application to go. The younger members of our family, Tzilia
and myself, were not given a choice but the older sisters decided not to return to
Lithuania with us. Just at that time, Mary, the oldest, and Chaytze had graduated from
university as doctors. The other sisters, Asya and Anne, also decided to stay in Russia.
The date of departure for the rest of us was
established as some time in August of 1920. After finishing university, Mary immediately
received a job in Moscow, specializing in ear, nose and throat ailments. Chaytze, however,
did not register as a doctor as was required by law. At that time, while wars were still
going on, the doctors were the first to be mobilized. Chaytze stayed in Bogorodsk with us
but, when the time came for us to leave, she finally decided to go to the appropriate
security station and report. I accompanied her to the NKVD (the security station). They
didn't let her out again. They arrested her immediately for not registering sooner. I
managed to find out the name of the official who made the arrest and left her there.
Two weeks later we had to leave. The last time I
saw Chaytze was through a tunnel in the security building. This tunnel ran from the street
to the yard and was designed for vehicles to pass through. I saw Chaytze in the yard at
the other end of the tunnel. I was on the street. Knowing the name of the arresting
officer and through using a series of bribes Yaakov managed to get her released from
prison. She was then sent directly to the front where she met her husband, Yuly.
The last episode I had in Russia was on the steps
of a streetcar after I left Chaytze at the NKVD. On the steps of the car was a person who
was holding onto the rails. I was on the lowest step and he was in front of me. In front
of him was a woman wearing a grey Persian Lamb coat. Between two stations the man in front
of me took out a razor and cut out the whole back of the woman's coat. At the next stop he
jumped off the car without the poor woman even knowing anything had happened.
Sometime later that night our train moved, its
direction west. Our belongings were loaded in the same car with us. At that time nobody
believed in the new Soviet rubles. People still clung to the Tzarist paper money and
believed it had value. It was illegal to take it out of the country. One accepted
procedure, which everyone kept secret, was to roll up the paper bills into thin tubes and
put them into the thick down comforters. When we arrived at the border everyone (and
everything, including furniture, comforters and everything else) was searched. Luckily,
our family passed with flying colors. However, a couple of minutes before starting time
another officer jumped in the car to make a second check. He put his hand in a comforter
and immediately grabbed a handful of Tzarist bills. As a result they opened all the
comforters. The whole train was full of down. This held up the train for another twelve
hours and it took months before we got rid of the down and feathers. The tragi-comedy was
that the money was worth nothing at all.
That was our goodbye to Russia. We arrived back in
Shavli on September first 1920. The next time I saw my older sisters was when I went to
visit them during the last days of World War Two. This was on the fifteenth of March,
1945. I did not see Chaytze again as, at that time, she was still on the Japanese front.
Yaakov and his wife, Eva, also lived in Moscow at
that time. They left Russia later and returned to Shavli for a short while, then they
settled in Riga, Latvia. In Riga their first son was born in 1924. Most of the war years
from 1914 to 1920 Yaakov had been away from home trying to avoid the draft. He and some of
his friends used to travel from one corner of Russia to the other trying to land in a
province where their age group was not being drafted. Finally, when this means was
exhausted, they found out that near the front there was no draft for people of certain
ages. They went there and found some means of changing their birth dates on their official
papers. All in all, they moved from one place to another for years until the Revolution
released them from this worry. Yaakov had a bad time all those years but luckily he
survived and joined us in Bogorodsk at the time of the Revolution. He married at that time
and went to live in Moscow. He and his wife left Moscow a little after us.
At the beginning Asya also stayed in Moscow after
we left, but she joined us a year or two later and stayed with us in Shavli. Thus our
family was divided. Mary, Chaytze, Chaytze's husband, Yuly, and Anne stayed in Moscow. My
parents, my grandmother Rivka Weiss, Tzilia, Asya and I settled in Shavli. Yaakov and his
family moved to Riga. There remained a close connection, however, between Yaakov and us.
Riga is situated about one hundred and twenty miles from Shavli but, though it was in a
different country and we needed visas to, we visited back and forth very often. Their
family used to come to us on holidays and we used to spend summer vacations at the famous
Baltic beaches near Riga.
With Russia communications were always strained and
difficult. Naturally the girls couldn't write freely or tell us the truth of what was
happening there but we corresponded more or less regularly all the same.
In 1928, when I finished university, there was a
kind of a d�tente between Lithuania and Russia. I was looking for a job at that
time and I even considered taking a job in Russia. Russia had advertised for engineers and
I considered applying. My sisters, however, gave me a hint in one of their letters to drop
all such thoughts.
In 1938 there was a possibility, for a certain
time, of visiting Russia from Lithuania. My mother took advantage of this and travelled to
Moscow. She stayed for several weeks. Naturally, she took with her all kinds of
goods--clothing, linens, underwear, etc.--and gave everything away while she was there,
including her own coat and dress. When I went to the border to meet her on her way back I
couldn't even recognize her.
After eighteen years of separation it was a great
thing for all of them to meet again. The girls all lived in the room on Kreevokoleny Lane
in Moscow. For my mother's coming they changed all the dishes and pots and pans to make
sure that mother could eat kosher food while she was there. Seventeen years after that
visit, when my sisters in Russia found out that I had stayed alive again after the German
occupation, the first thing they did was send me a package of goods which contained
exactly the same items my mother had brought them--linens, clothing, fancy pantaloons with
white lace, etc.