Vera's memoirs

Lubensky memoirs

by Vera Lubensky (1914-2005)

translated by Aaron Korby

From pogroms to Holocaust.

...........
I witnessed and was lucky to survive horrific Jewish pogroms in Chigirin in 1919.
It all started like that. At the time of my story, our family resided at my grandfather’s house in Matveevka. The family owned a small store.
One day quite late in the evening we saw a cart carrying 4 – 6 men stop at the entrance to our house.

Memoirs of Vera Lubensky

I was playing outside together with other kids when the men broke into the house and demanded money and other valuables from my parents. In rage they, hit my mother and my father repeatedly. While the robbers were busy taking their loot outside, which was everything they laid their eyes on, my father managed to get away from them, lock the bedroom door from inside, and escaped through the window. It was very dark outside, which helped my father to sneak into the safety of our neighbors’ yard. We, kids, hid behind the furniture, and scared to death sobbed quietly while the robbers were beating our mother severely. She was screaming, and sobbing and we were very scared. Hearing the screams from our house our neighbors, the peasants, rushed in and saved my mother’s life. Two brothers, Vasily and Sofran Zadorozhny, rescued our family from the thugs. The robbers slashed Sofran’s face in the fight. The thugs took off with all our belongings and our horse.

In town

Perhaps the town would provide safety, the place where Jews don’t live in constant fear of pogroms. Our parents had relatives in this town. So we moved. Settled in an old house that had a cellar, a barn, big yard and a garden. The house belonged to our relatives. Other relatives from other villages also joined us. One family brought in their cart the body of my uncle who had been killed in a pogrom the day before. My other uncle was badly wounded. He was attended to. Everybody was distraught, horrified: the war was going on, bandits, pogroms, the kids went hungry, and there were no jobs in sight to support the family.
Jews from surrounding houses gathered in our house every day, they prayed, took turns at night to guard the area to keep the kids safe. We had just a few calm days in Chigirin before we heard gunfire on the streets, saw fires, burned houses, witnessed thugs break into houses. Adults rushed us, kids, into the cellar. It unexpectedly became very scary to live in Chigirin as well. I still remember the names of the people who led the gangs, bands, and armed forces: Kotsupa, Denikin, Gonchriaev, Petlura. All of them marched through Chigirin, and on their way through the town, they all, with no exception, carried out violent anti-Jewish riots. Thugs from Petlura army broke into our house and killed my father and my brother. They were lying on the floor in a puddle of blood for a long time, to get outside I had to step over my father’s dead body. The puddle was so big that when trying to by step it I slipped and fell on the floor next to my father’s body. I was covered with blood all over and had to continue wearing these clothes soaked in my father’s blood since I didn’t have anything to change into. We did not have anybody to help us with the burials so the bodies were in the house for a long time until somebody finally came over, during a lol in the fighting, and buried our loved ones. There was no calm day, as soon as one gang left the town another one marched in and the violence continued.

Grigoriev and Petlura bands were the most vicious.
We continued staying with our relatives: aunt Rachel, Freida and Boris. One day Denickin thugs broke in, beat everybody up, and looted the house. They took off with our cloths, remaining money and valuables. We were lucky they did not kill us. A devastating tragedy came later when Petlura’s band got into the town. They were especially keen on murdering Jews, burning their houses.

They put our synagogue on fire. My brother Nahim and I hand-in-hand rushed to the burning place. Nahim was 8, I was not yet 6. We, hungry and dirty, watched people fighting the fire, trying to safe old precious prayer books in leather jackets. We picked up two books from the ground to save them. A woman who was also watching the devastation and saw us take the books whispered to us with compassion in Ukrainian: “Get out of here, otherwise they’ll throw you in the fire, they want to burn all you Jews”. Many books that belonged to the synagogue, including holy Torah scrolls, were burned in a pyre in the middle of the street. We didn’t leave the two prayer books behind, brought them home instead. As we learned later, those two were very valuable books; they were in our possession until 1941.
We were completely on our own roaming the streets of the town in ruins: our father was dead, and we had no idea where our mother was. To our relief our mother came back, and aunt Peisya and Abram, and other familiar Jews. It was very cold outside, and in the house, and there was no food. And again, the already familiar agonizing sounds of gunfire, that were followed by another pogrom. By then we did not have anything for the robbers to take from us. The bandits beat Gedalia and other Jews before killing them. Nahim and I hid behind the stove when we heard the bandits coming in. Aunt Reiza overwhelmed with grief confronted one of the killers: “Why did you kill my son; how did he wrong you?”. The bandit shot her in the face, and she fell down. For many days afterwards, her dead body was laying on the floor in the puddle of blood right where she was shot. Her face had a huge wound. We roamed the yard and cried our eyes out.

Vera in WWII

I recall hiding in the cellar with other kids, there was a bathtub over there, huge, made of wood. That day Aunt Rachel, my father’s sister, and her children arrived from afar to join us. They came from Kniazi village, where Aunt Rachel’s husband was killed. Aunt Rachel came to us with six children, three of them, Motya, Klara and Issak were little. Issak, the youngest, was still a baby. The kids including me were playing in the bathtub when a bunch of thugs broke in. We immediately got very quiet, as luck would have it even the baby in Aunt Rachel lap did not make a sound, did not reveal our presence in the house. The bandits didn’t go down in the cellar to check it out, so we lived.
My mother and other grownups who lived in the house left the house at night to hide from the bandits. The kids were left behind, we all slept in one bed, without undressing, keeping our shoes on.

There were several dead bodies in the house. We suffered from cold, and hunger. At night our gentile neighbors would come in to steal whatever was left in the house. They took out wooden frames from the kitchen windows, looked through empty drawers, and cabinets, did not find anything. They came into the bedroom, saw the blanket that covered us all and left, stepping over the dead bodies, taking the only blanket we had with them. Those neighbors who robed us were Gritsko Hasan and his two sons. They had guns. It was winter, very cold outside, no heat to keep the house warm, and there was no food.
When our mother came back from hiding, she arranged moving us to another part of the town, which she hoped would be safer for us. So, we left. Everybody got to transport something, I was entrusted with carrying a heavy cast-iron kitchen pot, my hands got very cold and I was crying. On our way we had to cross a bridge, and because we heard gunshots everybody ran, and I was left behind, fell in the middle of the bridge with the treasure pot in my frozen hands.

Vera with her daughters in Minsk

My mother was all in tears, in panic, she could not reach me, but lucky me I managed to get to her on my own, my face covered with blood from falling, my legs barely moving, stiff from the severe cold.
At last we got to where we were heading. The house felt heavenly warm, the hosts were very friendly to us, they welcomed us with boiled potatoes. Those hot skin-on potatoes were delicious!

We slept on the bare floor, no beddings, but we were happy: the room was warm, and most of all – our mother was beside us. To this day I am immensely grateful to those kind people, who being impoverished themselves, shared with us the little they had. After staying with this family for a while our mother decided to leave Chigirin for good. Uncle Vasily Sadorozhny helped us to get to Krylow (Novogeorgievsk). Krylow was a small town, had housed Russian Army during World War I. The town’s military presence has since been lost. There were several churches in Krylow, but we felt safer there comparing to Chigirin. We heard sounds of gunfire, but not as often as in Chigirin, and pogroms here were smaller in scale. Eksler was the name of the family who owned the house. The house stood on the bank of Tiasmin River, the ground level of the house that we occupied would get flooded rather often as the river rose.

The year was 1920.

We lived close to a church shelter and to a farmer’s market, the area was crammed with beggars and other destitute people. As I said before we lived in the basement. Slept on the floor, covered for warmth with rags. The always-wet part of the house attracted frogs, they were everywhere. I feared them. Every morning I would mop the floor, gather frogs in a pile, and transfer them into a huge basket, from which they easily escaped. Although my efforts to clear the floor were pretty useless, I stubbornly repeated the routine the next day again horrified by the sight of them jumping around us at night, touching our faces and legs.
I and other kids who also lived in the house fell ill with Epidemic typhus. We were kept together, Mother brought in a pack of straw, which became our mattress, and more rags to cover us up with. There was no food in the house. The mistress of the house, Ms. Eksler, stopped by and brought us a bowl of pickles and a slice of bread for each of us. The pickles made us thirsty. We gulped water from a big clay pot, the source of the water - Tiasmin River. That’s what we drank.
Mother took on herself by then my duty of fighting frogs. She diligently swept the floor around us several times a day, but they managed to hide from her and come out again, green and ugly, totally disgusting. A huge toad lived under the stove, she was the one that frightened me the most. It seemed she was staring at me. I imagined her jump on my face when I was asleep so I asked Mother to take out the creature, but Mother refused, and let her be. She told me it was a big sin to kill this toad. My brother Aaron was not afraid of frogs, he played with them, petted them, carried them around. If they bothered him, he picked them up and tossed away. Mother tried to ease my fear of frogs: “Some people like to eat them, and you are afraid of them!” We were sick for a long time before we got better. It was a miracle that we survived typhus.
Mother told us one day: “Children, don’t ask for food, hunger is upon us, if I find something to eat I will give it to you.” When she was lucky to get some buckwheat bran from a flower mill she baked “pancakes”, which we gobbled up. They made us vomit. One evening she saw a horse cart stopped at the gate. I recognized immediately that it was our friendly neighbor Vasily Zadorozhny, from Matveevka village. He brought us a sack of millet and a sack of apples. We were elated, millet porridge and apples!
What a delight it was our millet porridge, no milk no butter, no sugar, of course, just millet grains and water. We were so happy! Everything was changing for the better, we saw smile on Mother’s face. We used to see her sunk deep in her thoughts, overcome with worry and sadness.

Then came another good news: we received a parcel from America! From Uncle Yitzhak Smeliansky. He sent us rice, cans of condensed milk, and money. That was quite helpful, little by little our life started showing signs of normality. Our American uncle also sent clothes for us, children: a dress for me, and several pairs of pants for my bothers.

Vera with her grandchildren in Chicago

Shoemaker Staschenko made shoes for us all, I remember him fondly, he was a very kind man. His wife’s name was Frocya. They did not have children. One day they came over, and had a long conversation in private with our mother. Mother was crying, we overhead her say: “I have only one daughter, can’t give her away to anybody”. Childless Staschenko couple wanted to adopt me, but Mother stayed firm. Even at the time when the hardship was the worst and the hunger was unbearable she did everything she possibly could to save our lives, and keep us all together.
Mother’s father, our grandfather Munim Vereschatsky, was not with us at the time of horrific pogroms in Chigirin. He fled the town when the pogrom started, and we hadn’t known until we moved to Krylow if he were alive. There in Krylow Mother got the news that he had survived and was living in Knyazhna village. Mother got in contact with him, and asked him to move in with us.

We were expecting him for the Rosh Hashanah, but he didn’t arrive, and there was no word from him. Mother was overwhelmed with worry, was looking for him relentlessly. Finally, the news came that on the way to see us he stopped overnight at our relatives’ house in the village of Matveevka.
That night several bandits broke in, demanded money and gold, which nobody had. They started beating them up, then took them to the basement of the landlord Bespalov and killed them. Some peasant driving into Krylov met my mother and told her that grandpa Munin and a relative were killed. Their corpses were still in the basement. Mother went to Matveevka and brought the killed in a horse cart.
They were buried in Kamenka at the Jewish cemetery. Daughters Milka, and Zina sent some money for a tombstone from America. When I got older and began working as a teacher in Kamenka, I visited my grandpa’s grave often. He was 80 when he was killed.

My life after the civil war

The year 1921

One day Mother ran into her brother-in-law in the street, he had been looking for us. He was in big sorrow: his wife had just died giving birth to their son. She fell in with Spanish Influenza late in her pregnancy, and didn’t survive the delivery. The boy was named Froym (his mother’s name was Feyga).
By the time Mother met my uncle Boris, the sweeping influenza epidemic had taken more than ten million lives; almost as many people lost their lives during the war. Uncle Boris and Mother decided to live together and take care for their children as a family. The family of 11 people. Mother worked around the house very hard day and night: sewing, cleaning, doing laundry, tending to Froym but he still looked very sad, wasn’t gaining weight. There was no milk, no food for the baby. We were starving. Mother’s sisters came to rescue, they lived in Philadelphia at that time. Most of the help came from our uncle Yitzchak Smeliansky.
Aunt Hanah arrived with her daughter from Alexandrovka , Kamensky district. By sewing, Mother managed to make some money to buy bread. We moved into a new apartment – the landlady Anna Andreevna, whose husband was a priest, had many beautiful icons in her possession. Her house was packed with tenants, one of them Leib Polonsky made ropes for sale. He used me as help. I scrubbed floors, twisted strands when they were making ropes, for that I was given five kopeks a day. A loaf of bread cost 4-5 kopeks back then, I had to work 10-12 hour day for a loaf of bread. Uncle Boris, turned my step-father, worked odd jobs. As life went on we started attending a Jewish elementary school – Cheder.
After that we continued our education in Ukrainian public school. Nuhim, Dina and I were in the same class. I wasn’t as good a student as they were: was often sick, falling behind in my studies. As they moved to third grade I was kept back, left behind to repeat second. Later I managed to make good progress, and even become a better student than they were. We lived in Krylov until 1926.

The year 1926: Shalom Aleyhem farming community

At this time the government started leasing out land lots in the district of Herson, that land formerly belonged to Duce Trubetskoy. Everyone could apply, no restrictions, so Jews began moving there.
Our family picked Shalom Aleyhem farming community of Sedemenuk (Kaliningradsky) district since a good number of Jews had already settled there before us. Every distributed plot of land was identified by a number, ours was 23. We built a house on our lot; the house was made of clay. The Jewish agency from America, Agro-Joint, helped the new farmers with building houses, buying cattle, farming machinery and other common farm equipment. Our big family made a good team, we worked up a sweat together, everybody was kind and supportive. Our plot of land was part of an agricultural community called Shalom Aleichem.
Prior to being named Shalom Aleyhem our Jewish community was called “Ahdus”. We worked our collective land together with other members of the farm, all the families worked together. Our settlement was growing fast, soon we had 57 families, and everybody was Jewish. The soil we cultivated was very good for farming, but water for was scarce. Peasants who lived nearby dug us a pond for collecting water from melting snow. Rainwater was collected there as well. We raised fish in this pond, perch. I used to swim in this pond with other kids. We lived close to Michailovka village populated by Germans. They also raised fish. The Germans were good neighbors; we were on friendly terms with them.
In 1929-1930 the government started the initiative of uniting individual farms into production coops. This form of collective ownerships was called KOLKHOZ; we had to go with the flow. The collective ownership was made complete: all our farming equipment belonged to KOLKHOZ now. They took our horse, we had to give them our cow too, the contribution they expected from our family in crops for planting next season was impossible to make - we did not have as much. Those families who weren’t able to meet the state-set quota for crops were stripped of their possessions and sent to Siberia. Our parents were afraid that if we don’t satisfy the norm for the crops, we would be sent out to Siberia - and that perspective was horrifying. *
It did not make much sense to survive pogroms in Ukraine and then end up being expelled to Siberia where we would certainly not be able to stay alive. We started looking for how to make money to buy crops. Sold it all: chickens, ducks, petty clothes – everything. All that was left was watermelon seeds and melon seeds. Mother managed to keep us alive on those seeds. We survived. Lazar, Isaak and Tzilia left home to look for work in a city, they never returned to KOLKHOZ life. Nuhim was the least fortunate. At first he was hired by somebody in Dnepropetrovsk to do hard labor, later at some point he worked as a dirt digger, building Dneprostroy Dam.
In 1930-1931 I finished seventh grade in Uden public school in Krylov, and left home for Dnepropetrovsk to continue my education. I wanted very much to continue education. I stayed with relatives, did not have any other support, had to provide for myself to get food. Went to look for a job, became a laborer, which made me eligible for food rations. I worked at a vegetable storage facility. The house I lived in belonged to the family of the relative Ilya Ostrovsky. His two sisters lived in America at the time, in Winchester. Besides Ilya’s wife and his son Grisha, Ilya’s mother-in-law, his sister and a brother also lived there. The older woman treated me badly, made condescending humiliating remarks. I brought fruit and vegetables from work and shared with them, but they never gave me any food. Despite all the hardship I applied for studying in FZU DPRZ, and got accepted; group 17C. I remember my teachers’ names: Kononenko, Pavlikov. I studied hard. Rented a place for me to live, a shared room, my rent was higher than my student stipend. To make ends meet I got a part-time job. Had to couple my studies with work. When at last I got a place in a dorm, life got easier. Since I was now living rent-free I could use my student stipend on myself. Isaak and Tzilia, my stepsiblings, who also lived in Dnepropetrovsk never helped me with anything. I went home on school breaks, to be with Mother. While there, I worked in the KOLKHOS every day, earning money for Mother. Was awarded for good work with a pack of goodies: I got a pair of stockings and a quarter of a regular size bar of laundry soap.
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* The plots of land were given out on the condition that the leaseholder would satisfy the government-set amount for the crops the leaseholder was obligated to give back to the state. The norms were almost impossible to fulfill and the leaseholders were left to starve. Those who failed were sent out to Siberia.

The year 1932: famine and eradication of illiteracy

The year of famine. Mother asked me for help, but I was starving also. She came to visit me at the dorm. I borrowed some bread from my friends, gathered 30 pounds of it for her to bring home. As for myself, I made do with the petty rations we were served at the cafeteria at work, plus I was granted to The year of famine. Mother asked me for help, but I was starving also. She came to visit me at the dorm. I borrowed some bread from my friends, gathered 30 pounds of it for her to bring home. As for myself, I made do with the petty rations we were served at the cafeteria at work, plus I was granted to receive small food packages as an outstanding worker. I was a good student.
In 1932 I met Senya Vereshchagin. We got married and I moved to the town of Raygorod. He owned a house with a yard and a garden. I got a job as a schoolteacher. Helped Mother to survive by sending her food parcels. I saved the family from starvation. In 1933 I was assigned to work in Kamenka. Teaching schoolchildren Russian Language and Literature. While working there I took courses and completed a pre-college program in education for school teachers. Same year I enrolled in college in Moscow on the long-distance basis to get a degree in teaching foreign languages. In 1939 I moved to Korsun town not far from Kiev. There I worked as a teacher until 1941. Took part in the country-wide government campaign for teaching illiterate adults to read and write. The campaign was called Likbez, the abbreviation for “Eradication of Illiteracy”, which became the campaign slogan. I was hired by a military recruiting office for this job, worked there until 1941.

The year 1941: war

Senya was drafted in May. I saw him off, we parted at the entrance to the recruiting office. I waited at the street corner until the new recruits were ordered into a column, headed to the train station. As soon as he saw me, he rushed toward me from the orderly rank. He hugged me, we kissed, and he hurried back to take his place in the column. I have never seen him again. He was stationed in the town Cherkassy. He called me in June, asked me to come to the train station, he knew they would be transported west.
That night from June 21st to 22d I prepared a package for him and went to the train station, spent the whole night there waiting for a chance to see him if only for a minute. It didn’t happen. There at the train station I heard on the radio the government announcement of the beginning of The War, followed by the speech by Molotov. At once my world submerged into darkness. Overwhelmed with fear people gathered around loudspeakers longing for information. The radio broadcasted non-stop the government’s announcement of Germany’s treacherous invasion of the Soviet Union. That was all we were told, that was all we knew about what had just happened to us. In a couple of days we saw army units march through Korsun heading west. Enlisted men were moving in columns, fully dressed in military uniform. The deployment of troops continued day and night, what gave us uneasy feeling was that the solders didn’t have weapons. We gave water to the solders passing by, something to eat. Everybody was in shock, deeply worried for the loved ones. All the men were drafted, only women, the elderly and children remained in the town.
The military recruitment office ordered kids born in 1925 to report for duty. My step-son took off, I didn’t know where he was. The town started receiving wounded from the front line. They were lodged in schools, hotels, resorts, train stations. Along with my friend Betya I volunteered to work at those improvised hospitals, providing basic care to the wounded, took them outside on their rolling beds for a breath of fresh air. I had no information about my husband and step-son. German war planes became frequent intruders in the city skies, bringing fire and destruction. Town residents were put on duty in teams to provide around the clock surveillance.
At the heart of town of Korsun which was located on the banks of river Ros, there was the water dam producing hydroelectric power. Germans, eager to destroy the power station, began indiscriminate bombing of surrounding area. People started to flee. The roads were packed with escaping people. Cattle, which belonged to collective farms was also herded along, local industry packed up the machinery and headed out, joining the town’s emergency evacuation. Train stations were packed with horrified people, cargo trains in great numbers passed by without stopping.
Chaos was everywhere. People are rushing to safety, away from the frontline. On June 26th early in the morning I went to see my friend Betya, as I stopped by their house she was already seated in the back of a truck. When she saw me she exclaimed: “Vera, be quick, get up here, we are fleeing”. I rushed to join her as I was, no time for packing, all I had for the journey was whatever I was wearing that morning. As we were passing some village it started to rain heavily. We made a stop, spent the night at a school building, and left early in the morning to continue our drive east. Our truck was packed with people beyond its capacity, it was moving very slowly – the road was completely crammed with walking people, horse carriages, and carts of all sizes imaginable. On the way we saw farm animals abandoned to lie on the road, exhausted women carrying children, many Jews from Poland in their distinctive attire, elderly people. A very odd mass of people was moving eastward, away from the advancing Germans, away from the frontline.
As we reached Smely the traffic came to a complete stop. While waiting there I ran into our neighbors from Kamenka, asked them to tell my family that I beg them to leave everything behind without hesitation and run away from advancing Germans. That evening we reached Cherkassy. Had to cross river Dnepr. The bridge was wide, made of wood, we were moving very slowly toward it. There was a huge line of vehicles waiting to cross, people, cattle. Betya, her two kids, her husband, Kishnis Misha, and I were clinging together, waiting to cross, and at that moment German airplanes appeared in the sky. Opened fire. Betya was carrying her youngest, I grabbed Acya, the other child, in the darkness I tripped, fell into a gutter – mayhem all around, loud noise, panic, bombing. The enemy planes dropped their death-spewing load and vanished. We returned to our truck.
We all reunited, thanks God, nobody was hurt. Crossed the bridge, and drove toward Kharkov. My sister Dina lived in Kharkov. It did not work out: our truck was rerouted, the roads to enter the city were blocked. Before to the war, Kharkov was a big powerful industrial city, with many manufacturing facilities: plants, factories. Pride of the city - giant Kh.T.Z., Tractor Manufacturing Plant. It was a big city, densely populated. It was expected it would be a bombing target.
We turned back, settled in the town of Valka, in the apartment that belonged to a man whose surname was Kutsmanov. Before the revolution he was an officer in the Russian Army. He later became a deserter. Soon after our arrival I started looking for a teaching job. The job I got was to work as a teacher at children’s daycare center. My meals came from work, so I spent my first salary on clothes I badly needed. Together with the kids in my care I was sent to dig anti-tank trenchers, this was a long assignment - more than two weeks. With the frontline moving fast deeper into the country, the area where we lived felt less safe with each coming day. A dark nerve-racking stream of people fleeing their homes continued day and night. Exhausted women with children, elderly people. There I ran into my former boss, the head of the Military Recruitment Office in Korsun, his name was Doroshenko. His wife was lying lifeless in their carriage, he did not have any money so I shared my petty reserves with him. Also met other former coworkers from Korsun. I knocked on many doors for them, asked my neighbors to help them.

The year 1941: refuges

The German army was moving full speed ahead, and was approaching Kharkov, the government encouraged city residents to withdraw from the area and rush to safety away from the western border. Misha bought train tickets to go to Kazan’ for himself, his brother and the kids. I could not leave because of my work so the plan was to leave me behind. The head of the city orphanage Profatilov Dmitry Ivanovich, his brother, Profatilov who was the head of the Communist Party Charkov Branch, committed several freight cars for evacuation of the kindergarten. We started packing – a bag for every child- a set of underwear, a pair of boots, schoolbooks and such. Teaches brought their groups of kids to the train station Koviazi, which was 15km from the city center. The Germans were already approaching Valki, a city suburb very close to Charkov (6-7 km). We heard bomb explosions, the fighting was very close. There were many people in military uniform on the street. The head of police whose name was Motus and the commander of the city’s military unit both urged me to hurry, leave as soon as possible, they knew the Germans would be in the city any minute now.
I managed to bring the whole group to the train station on foot. Kids needed food. We carried along a big pot of meat, a sack of potatoes, bread and salt. We had to make a stop along the way, dig a hole to use as a fire pit for our pot, make fire and cook meat soup for the kids. When in the evening a German air raid caught us off guard, we were passing a village in close proximity to the train station. Nobody was hurt by the bombing.
In the morning we boarded the train, and as soon as the train started moving all of a sudden, I saw Leva. I pulled the handle of the emergency brake, stopped the train, and ushered Leva in. This swift action almost makes me killed. Leva’s clothes were dirty and torn, and he was very hungry. The kids’ group organized by the military office was taken to a Ukrainian city to work there, it seems their destination was Donetsk. On the way the plan fell apart since the German army had already taken the city, and the kids were let go. Leva got to Zolotonozni on his own, and from there together with the family of his brother they got to Kharkov. In Kharkov he found Dina and learned from her that I was in Volkah, he followed me there, that’s how we two got to unite. The train brought us to the station Sortirovochnaya near Kharkov and stopped, it wasn’t clear when we would start moving again. I asked permission to go to the city to find my sister Dina and bring her along, but when I got to her house she wasn’t home, and I returned to the train alone, back to my duties.
Another German air raid caught up with us while our train was at the Sortirovochnaya station. I did not let the kids leave the train car because I was so afraid… we survived the raid, nobody got hurt….
At sunrise the train left Kharkov. Our train was a very dangerous place to be for the 370 kids on board. We occupied four train cars, the rest were jam-packed with air bombs, ammunition, and other military gear. Many kids needed medical attention: there wasn’t anybody to treat bruised legs, infected scratches and boils. And we did not have any medical supplies. The kids were hungry, and they suffered from lice,. I did not have any spare shoes or clothes for Leva, he was barefooted. It was cold at night. At a station along the way, totally by chance, we bought him a straw mat. That helped. Leva’s hair turned white from lice eggs, lice are everywhere, everybody is infected. We are worried lice would trigger typhus, which is very contagious, the fast spreading horrible disease would kill everybody. As the train reached Balashovo our car was hooked to a different train, which was heading for Penza. In the morning I realized that we did not have any food supplies, there were none in the car we were riding, the rest of the kids and the car carrying food were separated from us and left behind at Balashovo station.
As we settled in Penza somebody advised me to seek help for the kids from the town’s Party Committee. I went there right away. Kids were given… one slice of bread each. A man in charge of a soup kitchen sold us 100 white-bread bans and some sugar. That was a gift from God! At night our train car returned to Balashovo, where we got reunited with the rest of our group, and the train left for Stalingrad.
We arrived there at the train station called Aviyalovo. The head of the children transport managed to reach by phone a government official, and they sent a horse carriage to the train station to transfer us and our luggage to Rozenberg village. At first we lived in the school building, and later got assigned to stay with the villagers. Village residents of German decent all had already been ordered to vacate their houses, and were sent east, so their houses were empty… Crops and vegetables ready to harvest stayed deserted in the fields and gardens.
We got settled with the residents, changed kids into fresh clothes, those who were sick gathered in one place. One of the girls whose name was Katya had TB in contagious stage. She was admitted to a hospital within a moth since our arrival. She died there. We reopened the school, The classes were in the morning, worked in the fields after school, harvested the crops, potatoes, beets, cabbage, gathered the vegetables in huge piles where they remained, nobody was available to transport them to a storehouse. Nobody was taking care of farm animals, they were wandering in the fields left to themselves for surviving. There were still pigs remaining, we did not starve. We fed kids three times a day. Winter was upon us pretty soon, the cabbage, potatoes, beets, carrots we had piled up now got frozen unattended in the fields. In winter we with the kids helping us, brought inside the deserted vegetables. The snow was knee deep, the kids were freezing not properly dressed for winter, but everybody worked very well. We didn’t have fuel to keep us warm so we used wooden fences, demolished deserted houses for fuel.
The German army was already close to Stalingrad. We had to hit the road again to escape them. One of the teachers, Vera Nicolaevna, the wife of out head of staff, gave birth to a boy and died soon after from blood infection. Yakov was in the army.
Miraculously, the newborn survived. What could we do with him? We brought him to the orphanage Kalyashin.

The year 1942: in Red Army

I made a firm decision to enlist. All my family was in the army, fighting the Germans by that time - Lazar, Isaak, Naum, Motya, Froim, Cenya, Manya and others. I joined in. As part of my battalion I was ordered to go to the city of Kalinin, but in several days our unit was rerouted for Stalingrad. German army was well equipped for war, they had everything, proper clothes, ammunition. Our unit lacked everything, not everybody even had a weapon, and we were poorly dressed, our shoes were not durable enough. We did not have any military gear, but were ordered to fight as we were.
Many people were killed. We administered first aid to the wounded, sent them to hospitals, helped as much as we could.
Before we were sent to Stalingrad, the army commander Zhukov visited our battalion together with several other high-ranking military personnel. We wholeheartedly trusted commander Zhukov’s military genius. Everybody I talked to, shared the same strong belief that if Zhukov has arrived and Rokosovsky, the outcome of the battle is predetermined: we would win.
I recall how our battalion arrived in Kalach town on the river Don at night, then we drove the Germans out of Novoterskaya village; there in the forest close to where the Germans were stationed the fight erupted. I saw a young woman sitting under a tree, she was taking care of a wounded person, when we approached her she was dead, a knife in her back, the man she had been helping was also dead.
We arrived in the village Niznegnutovo, got there at night in the darkness, the only protection we had against being exposed, a bare plain around for miles, we were positioned in three-train-long tranches, no bushes, no trees around for any maneuverer, the Germans could easily detect us. We obeyed the order to not smoke, to not ignite matches, to not speak loudly – sustain full masking. Even in the underground hospital in the tranches the cold was brutal, there was no place to warm up. Our battalion was in charge of demining minefields, and planting landmines, many got killed.

Stalingrad
Tranches three-train-long. Heavy fighting. Many wounded, killed. The Germans took over the city completely. Our wounded soldiers were transported to another bank of Volga River. The city residents abandoned their homes, and ran away. German occupiers murdered civilians they came in contact with, nobody was spared. The Germans sank boats transporting wounded Russian soldiers, civilians, pregnant women among them.
I was ordered to report to the command post. Was told that the military commander Kamesky was looking for me. When I arrived I saw Kamesky and a group of other high ranking offices. Kamesky asked me to help with translating from German of what was written on the landmine. The landmine was new, of an anti-tank type. I used a dictionary to translate the tag; they read my translation several times aloud. As they got satisfied with the translation, I was ordered to leave. I went out.
Heard a loud hurray all of a sudden. I jumped to my feet. Kamesky thanked me for my help. From reading the text I learned how to take apart mines of this kind, shared my knowledge with the officers, they in turn taught the skill to the soldiers.
When I started my army service, the unit I was part of, was assigned to Stalingrad Front, was reassigned to Stepnoy Front later, then Donskoy, and Second Ukrainian.

My responsibilities ranged from strictly administrative to combat. Our unit was moving ahead through heavy fighting. We liberated Shahtu, town in Rostov district. Gathered our wounded; left it to civilians to bury the dead. In one of the house yards there were six coffins. A huge crowd had gathered to bury the six dead officers. One elderly man organized their burial in coffins. Everybody was crying: women, elderly people, children.
We were moving ahead with heavy battles, fighting the Germans and taking back from the occupiers hundreds of towns and villages, and losing our troops in great numbers along the way. Many were shot to death, and many were wounded. At some point we reached Lihaya Station. It was there that we got an order from the army commandment center to proceed for regrouping to the city of Podolsk, in close proximity to Moscow.
From there our army division was sent to participate in Kursk Strategic Offensive Operation that was fought at the Kursk Bulge in July of 1943. We took part in liquidation of the German’s major offensive operation in the direction of Belgorod-Kursk. The Germans were effectively halted before they could break through the Red Army defenses. Everybody who participated in this battle including me later received a personal honorary mention in the appreciation decree by the Commander in Chief of the Military, Marshal of the Soviet Union Stalin. The honorary decree of gratitude was issued on July 24, 1943.
We took part in a very heavy battle in the village of Oboyan’, Schtigri Station. It was there that I saw a tank battle for the first time in my life. We overtook the village at the end of the day. Found the village deserted, not one resident in the view. Where the village ended, we found a lake, it was very hot that day, and we were dirty and exhausted. Several solders checked out the lake for mines, and all reassured we started bathing. One of the groups got in deeper and stepped on a mine – explosion, he got killed. We entered a house. Could not believe our eyes: fresh bread in the oven! In the morning we found a pit on the backyard. Five people, a family, were lying there dead from gun wounds. All night we heard dogs howling… Heartbreaking wailing for the dead.
So it was, we continued moving ahead, fighting the Germans along the way. We liberated the town of Belgorod. And again, were commended for the success in combat, mentioned by name in the honorary decree of gratitude.
In March of 1944 our army set free the town of Pervomaysk, the major railroad junction and strong strategic point of the Germans’ defense buildup on the river Uznuy Bug.
In May of 1944 our battalion reached Moldavia Republic, taking part in heavy fighting along the way. I got the order to report for duty at the town of Grigoriopol. We got into cars. There were 13 of us. Near Karmanovo village the gravel country road turned into a grader – asphalt paved and wide. As we reached Grigorioplol we found ourselves at the front line, obliterating fighting was going on nearby. I gave the order to two soldiers, Gorbachev and Rasskazov, to promptly conduct a reconnaissance. From them we learned that the Germans were very close. We decided to return to Karmanovo.
It was dark, past midnight, no visibility, the headlights were off. Realized we could not move any further. Stopped at a cemetery. Put up perimeter defense. All exhausted. Took turns to stay on guard, camouflage our presence. At dawn we were back in the cars, returning to the base. Managed to get back intact. The commanding officer had assumed we got captured by the Germans. Everybody felt relieved and happy to see us. From there our battalion headed for Beltzi, we crossed the river Prut near Santa Maria village, and entered the town of Botushani. We got stationed in the forest adjoining the village Drakshini.
I met Jews in Botushani. When Romanian Army broke away from the coalition with the Germans and joined forces with the Soviet Army, the Germans had to withdraw from the area. The brutality of the fleeing German forces toward the Jews intensified. On their way-out Germans soldiers broke into houses where the Jews lived, killed everybody inside point blank. They stabbed defenseless people, wounded and killed, sounds of firing weapons from all directions, screaming and wailing, tragedies occurring in many places at once. Complete devastation. Tremendous number of Jewish people lost their lives.
We were preparing for an offensive, and as we got ready to attack, in August, our division took over from the Germans several towns: Yasen, Turgu-Furmaya, Unren, all had been part of the enemy’s powerful defense zone in the area. During the same month of August, Soviet Army crashed German forces in successful offensive operation in the Sothern part of Moldavia, and took over towns of Romania - Bakey, Birliz and Hungi. Also in August we attacked the Germans once again in the area and liberated two towns, Rokshani and Rumnik, the enemy’s major communication outposts.

Jewish family
There, totally by chance, I met a Jewish family. The day was very hot, I was thirsty, I was about to enter a house along the road, and saw mezuzah on the front door. I got myself in, people inside froze at my entrance, in complete silence. I asked for water in Yiddish. They looked very confused and frightened, I did my best to calm them down. They asked me to stay, spend some time with them, but I had to hurry to join my people so I left. I returned to this house as soon we got an order to rest, and brought several officers along. My new acquaintances were glad that I returned, they served us coffee. The head of the family asked me, if we go through village N. to deliver a letter to their relatives, let the relatives know that they were alive. This village was along our route so I did deliver the letter and brought the verbal greetings.

And again we continued pushing ahead, engaging the occupiers in heavy fighting. Reached the town called Plooashty , which before the war had been a major oil production center of Romania. By the time we got there, the city was destroyed to the ground, completely obliterated. We got stationed in the village Ploashtory. On the way there, we captured six Germans: a captain, two corporals, and three privates. As we set them for questioning the captain made an attempt to escape, a bullet caught up with him… The rest of them we delivered to an army post. While we were in Romania we got the order to break into the rear of the German defense zone. Our unit participated in this operation together with the unit of the General Plevk.

In the hospital

In heavy fighting Russian Army freed from the Germans the town of Turdy. There were many wine cellars in this town that still contained wine. Our soldiers got drunk, and at dawn when the Germans attacked again, our army lost control of the town. We lost many people in the fight of reclaiming the town once again. After liberating Turdy we continued fighting the Germans on the way to Debretzen, Hungary. We overpowered the Germans’ defense, and took over an important industrial center of Hungary in close proximity to Debretzen airport.
Our unit successfully de-mined the area, which was essential for reuniting with the Red Army’s forces, retreating from the enemy’s defense zone. In the middle of our de-mining operation we became a target of a bombing attack by Germans’ aviation aiming at the airport. I counted 13 fighter aircraft in the air before I got heavily wounded.
Aircraft pilots from our side came to rescue, I was unconscious from the head wound. My scull got broken. After the bombing stopped and enemy planes retreated, I was picked up by my comrades and sent to the hospital in Debretzen. I was operated on the same day in the evening. During the surgery my scull wound was treated and cleaned of shrapnel pieces. I did not wake up after the surgery, they could not detect the heartbeat, so I was pronounced dead, and treated as such. I was moved to the hospital’s basement to join corpses of the soldiers who recently died.
Early in the morning when somebody was splitting firewood in the basement, I awoke to the feeling of being very cold: realized I was lying on the cold cement floor. My head trauma caused bleeding from my ears, nose and mouth. My stomach was filled with blood, which made me vomit puddles of blood. The man who was in the basement at that time, went upstairs and told the doctors, that there was an alive woman among the corpses. A doctor arrived at once and ordered to take me upstairs. I spent 21 days in that hospital, in the same hospital bed I was placed on the day of my revival.
Avraam Davidovich Volodin, a second in command of our fighting unit, came to see me many times while I was in the hospital. The unit was stationed in Dobroschine, he often came to visit, sat at my bed, fed me.
On November 7th, 1944, the October Revolution Holiday, he brought presents for every woman, who shared the hospital room with me. His division recently wrestled from the Germans a herd of cows that German Army was going to transport to Germany. Several of those cows were given to the hospital.
As I was getting better, he arrived in the hospital one day with the intention to take me back to my army unit, but instead as a severely wounded soldier I was transferred by plane to the hospital behind the front line in Fradeo Mary, where I continued my recovery until December 30th, 1944. I left the hospital on that day because I felt strong enough to return to my platoon, and finish recuperating there. It was wintertime, very cold out. I was trying to hitchhike my way. Was not properly dressed for the harsh winter, just had a light coat on. My head was bandaged. I was waiting for a long time, but nobody stopped to give me a ride. It was getting dark. Many shiny Studebakers passed by, without stopping, the vans were all new, were moving toward the area where 2nd Ukrainian Front was positioned. I kept waiting. Hoped somebody would give me a ride. A truck with two cows on the cargo bed was coming toward me. An Army lieutenant behind the wheel. He stopped the truck. I scrambled up onto the cargo bed and joined the cows. It was freezing! I leaned on the cows; their warm bodies helped a little bit to ease my shivering. Would not it be pathetic to survive a life threating head injury and soon after dying from frostbites? My bitter thoughts were abruptly interrupted as I saw lights in the darkness, and we arrived in the town of Yasapaty. It was not easy to make my frozen to the bone body move.
With big difficulty I managed to descend from the truck, but when on the ground my poor frozen numb legs refused to walk. The lieutenant explained to me how to get to the army’s post and took off.
I don’t know where I got the strength to reach my destination. I walked into the reception room and asked the soldier on duty to help to take my boots off. I started rubbing my hands and feet, the pain was unbearable. There was a cot in the corner, I lay down, my boots under my ear as a pillow, covered myself with whatever covers were available.
A man in charge of this army post walked in, told me that it was against the rules for me to use the cot. I sat up, started to put boots on, I was hurting all over, my stomach was in knots, but I had to comply with the order despite the suffering. The soldier left and came back with a plate, it was his supper ration: millet porridge and a slice of bread. He shared the food with me, left me a little bit of porridge on the plate and a slice of bread. All I could think of was getting myself warm. He also brought in tea. I hoped the tea would be hot, which would have helped me to warm my body up, but the tea was cold, and of no help.
Another man walked in; his name was Victor. He was from my unit involved in disarming mines. I recognized him at once. He was glad to see me alive, told me he had heard I was killed. He helped me with finding a place to stay. The owner of the house employed as an army cook, served me supper, but I just had some hot tea, and went to bed. A real bed! I was crying the whole night, my pillow got soaking wet from my tears. Victor returned in the morning, he worked in engineering department now, told me that colonel Levshin Petr Ivanovich and an army instructor Shemayev Zhenya had just arrived here, and they could give me a ride to return to where my unit was stationed. When we got there, nobody recognized me. I approached the Commanding Officer of the brigade, Kovalenko Fedor Grigoryevich, and reported my arrival for continued service. Everybody was happy that I have survived and returned to my army unit. I went to see soldiers from my battalion, was accompanied by Abram Volodin. The soldiers were glad to see me, arranged a place for me to stay overnight.
Abram Volodin and I became fast friends. He was very protective, was always there for me whenever I needed help. I mostly spent my time in the medical unit, worked as the department secretary for the command post. Our unit was pushing ahead in heavy fighting with the enemy.
For breaking through heavily fortified defenses of the enemy in the north-west direction of Budapest, and for forced crossing of Danube River and defeating the Hungarian and German forces to the south of Budapest, and for crashing the enemy’s defense lines at the western bank of Danube every member of our battalion, including me, who took part in the battles were honored with personal commendation by the Commander of the 2d Ukrainian Front.
In February of 1945 we successfully finished the assault operation for liberation of the capital of Hungary, the city of Budapest. This city was a very important strategic bastion of the enemy’s defense zone in the direction for Vienna. We overcame the German resistance sustaining heavy losses. Everybody who took part in this operation was granted commendation from the Commander of the Front.
We continued to move forward taking enemy lines by storm, loosing great numbers of Soviet troops in heavy combat. In March of 1945 our division took part in liberating of two Austrian towns, Dyer and Komorn. Komorn played a very important strategic role in the enemy’s defense strategy in the direction of the Austrian capital Vienna. Due to a big significance if this military victory on March 28th we were awarded with personal honorable mention by the order of Marshal of the Soviet Union Stalin.
In April of 1945 we participated in destruction of the big numbers of German forces, who were abandoning their positions and trying to flee from the Vienna defense zone to the north. We took over the town of Korneuburg, on the left bank of Danube River, another strongly fortified region, strategically important outpost of the German defense forces. The defeated enemy forces on the run were leaving behind their dead and wounded. We administered first aid to the captured wounded German soldiers, and brought them to safety.
We were in the suburbs of Vienna when The Victory was proclaimed. The head of the political wing of the Army, Levin Petr Ivanovich, ordered a meeting of the officers and soldiers serving in our brigade’s command center. At this meeting, he announced the alias’ complete victory over the fascist occupants, told us that the war was over, and expressed his gratitude to every one of us for the successful outcome of the war. We felt overjoyed! Loud music was everywhere, the soldiers were celebrating, people danced and sang. As for me, I had bitter tears in my eyes, was crying, overwhelmed with outpouring emotions. The war ended, I had nothing to come back to, all my family perished in this war, my parents, my brothers, my sisters were killed by the Germans, my husband and son didn’t survive the war either.
We were returning to the motherland. Made a stop in Czechoslovakia, to take a rest in the forest. Peaceful quiet of the forest felt strange to our ears, we had forgotten unobtrusive existence, the soldiers rested in silence enjoying life after the war.
We passed by Czechoslovakia in the direction of Zakarpattia, in a village we made a stop in the residents told us about the atrocities of Stepan Bandera’s militia in the area, Ukrainian Nationalists and the German collaborators, Bandera and his fanatic followers organized in small groups orchestrated diversions and sabotage acts in Ukraine to deter the advancing Soviet forces.
They put mines on the roads, orchestrated ambushes, killed Russian soldiers and army officers, locals who they could suspect in supporting Soviet Army. Our army commanders were aware of their activities and organized actions to secure the movements of Russian forces, took precautions for preventing the gangs’ terrorist operations. Thanks to all those measures, we did not lose anybody to a terrorist act in Moldavia. From Moldovia we arrived in Odessa.
I remember sitting at the same table with the Army Commander Volodin Abram Davidovich. Many other army officers were also present. Military Political Instructor Vengerovitch was also there. His commanding officer Levshin could not stand him and always ordered him to take part in the most dangerous operations. Vengerovitch survived the war despite all odds, got settled in Odessa after the war, managed to reunite in Odessa with his mother and sister. They returned to Odessa from the far away town where they had escaped to for the duration of the war.
They were fighting the Germans alongside with our sapper unit when one of our medical nurses was wounded and we had to carry her out to safety, her name was Maria. The nurse was from Poltava city, her home was close by. We brought Maria home. A family from Czechoslovakia that was living in the house at that time, took great care of her, they undressed her, cleaned and bandaged her wound, and put her to bed. Her uniform and medical bag the housemaster hid under the wooden floor. When a bunch of German soldiers came, they were told that the woman had typhus. The house residents were also hiding several Russian soldiers in the cellar at that time. The Germans retreated in fear of typhus, Marya and the hidden soldiers survived the visit.

After the war

On May 9th, 1945 Marshal of the Soviet Union Georgy Zhukov presided over Soviet Army Victory Parade in Moscow. Marshal Zhukov who was also the supreme military commander of the Soviet occupation zone, was assigned to head Odessa Military District after the war ended.
We spent a whole month preparing for the Victory Parade, the great postwar military strength display. Volodin Abram Davidovich and I got married, started a new family together. He lost his wife and his children, when the war started, they were forced into a ghetto where they perished. I lost my husband and my son to the war. We both were asked to continue in military service after the war ended, working for an Odessa Military District’s unit. Abram Davidovitch decided to decline the offer and retire from active duty in the Army. We both did. Soon after our daughter Rimma was born, and we left Odessa and relocated to Minsk.
Minsk was in ruins after the war, there was no place for us to live. Our friends helped us to get settled, we got a room in a temporary shelter, with no running water, the barn-like dreary structure was lacking basic house amenities. We could not give our child a bath, the living conditions were horrible, it was very cold inside our room, and in the hallway, no heat. We were cooking over a brick fire pit. We both started working right away, got employed as civilians by a military unit. The company arranged for us to get a room in a shared house. In the spring, we started a vegetable garden in our back yard. The harvest was very good; in this garden we grew enough potatoes and other vegetables to last for a year.
In a couple of years, between 1947 and 1948, we built us a new house, raised a fruit tree garden. In 1948 I returned to teaching, became a school teach again, in a middle school. In 1953 the city built a new middle school, and I was sent to work there, where I continued working until 1960. In 1949 I gave birth to our second daughter Marina.
Right before we got settled in our new house, I was ordered to report for an interview with KGB. They wanted to know how we could afford building a new house. The interrogation was conducted by a KGB officer at the rank of colonel.
"Rumors have it that you have built a palace for yourself. Not a palace by any means, just a regular house. And it is quite expensive."
"Yes, that’s true, the house is very expensive."
"Where did you get so much money?"
The interrogation continued.
“It is my second family. We both are military officers, war veterans, were in service until the war ended. Here are my bank receipts”, – I tried to reason. “No way you could have put aside so much money to afford a big beautiful house like yours”, replied the colonel. “What do you want? Explain to me. How dare you to accuse my husband in doing something improper? We fought with honor the whole war. I was badly wounded protecting my homeland, barely survived a horrific injury.
My first family all perished during the war, my first husband and my son. Voloshin Abram Davidovich lost his first wife and his two children in the war, they all were killed by the Germans. And instead of helping the family of veterans to improve their living conditions you subject us to this humiliating interrogation, accusing us in some shady deals, demanding we prove that we are not criminals. Investigating where we got money for building a house. I am begging you to leave my husband out of it, and if you don’t you can’t imagine wherever my anger would take me. We have a child and want to finally have a place of our own for raising our kid, and let our family grow. My husband is a decent family man, he doesn’t drink, we live frugally, trying to save every penny we can could toward building a roof over our heads. Please leave us alone, let us live in peace after all have suffered”.
I got the impression that the KGB guy got it, but nevertheless I was very afraid for my husband. KGB was after him on every turn. Once he was ordered for questioning by a prosecutor. When he was leaving to appear in court, he was all but certain they would put him in jail. It was a very difficult parting for both of us. They let him go, didn’t have any evidence for going after him.

In 1948 we moved into the new house. Continued finishing it for more than two years. Every time we bought something related to the construction, we made sure we kept the receipts in case of any future inquiry by the government into what we bought and how we paid for it, in regards to building materials. For every little thing we bought for the house we were able to provide store receipts.
May 1982.
One day early in the morning I went out of the door and froze in shock. On a fence across the street I saw big letters in yellow that proclaimed: “Jews, get out of here at once, Israel is where you belong. You are poisoning out land”.
There was no KGB interrogation of this hate-spewing disgusting feat.
May 1992
May 9th, the WWII Victory Day. We had guests over to celebrate the great Holiday. And again on the same fence there was a slogan in big yellow letters: “Kill the Jews, Save Russia”. And there were leaflets in our mailbox: “Jews, get out of here, we don’t want you here”. The leaflet was signed with the words “Uran Organization”. Our guest, who was the chairman of the city council, initially wanted to take the leaflets and bring then to the KGB office, but later decided that it was pointless to bring the incident up with the KGB. They would not do a thing. He took the leaflets with him, brought them home, and in a little while when we decided to emigrate to America, we brought those leaflets to the American Embassy in Moscow when we were applying for an entry visa. We were given the refugee status.
By that time, our house was no more. It was demolished to make space for a big city development. Since we had given up our property, our family was promptly assigned an apartment in a tall public building.
One evening when I was home alone, I felt very uneasy. My husband was in a hospital. The prospect of leaving the country for good, the emigration scared me. Somebody called the doorbell, I did not answer. Looked through the peephole – saw a stranger, a man. He shouted threats that would break in if I don’t open the door. I told him I am calling the police. He heard me dialing and ran away. The police arrived very fast, they checked the area around the building looking for the perpetrator, my neighbor clamed later that he had seen the policeman arresting somebody. I was never informed of any investigation.

Both Rimma and Marina are graduates of the Byelorussian State University. Rimma is married; her husband is a medical doctor. They live in Israel. Have two daughters, Alla and Marina. Alla lives in America, in Philadelphia, she is an architect. She is married, her husband is a surgeon; their son’s name is David. Marina is also married, she has two children, they live in Michigan.
My husband died on September 24th, 1996. In America.