Execution by Hunger: The Hidden Holocaust

by Miron Dolot

  The news about the boy and the woman had not yet reached the rear of the column before several other incidents occurred. A few of the older men, among them my Uncle Havrylo, could not withstand the hardships and brutality and died before reaching the railroad station. A young couple committed suicide by slashing their veins.

  As the snow continued to fall, some of the sleighs became stuck, and when this happened, the entire column had to stop. The men had to help the horses amidst the shouting and firing of the militiamen and the GPU soldiers and the screams and cries of the women and children.

  A few miles from the railroad station, the column took a field road toward the railroad tracks. A freight train stood in the field on auxiliary rails. The front cars had already been filled with arrested farmers from other villages. Soldiers of the regular army stood guard at every car.

  As soon as the column reached the train, the GPU officer passed the order that all had to remain in their sleighs. Guards took positions around the column. Without delay, the GPU agent moved from sleigh to sleigh with list in hand, calling the roll. Then the checked groups were escorted to the train immediately and herded into the cars, group after group.

  When the first car was filled and locked, all realized that wives were separated from their husbands, and children from their parents. An angry murmur rushed through the column as the men claimed the right to be with their own families. A boy ran to the car that held his parents. A machine gun fired warning shots over the heads of the people, but the boy kept running. Three more shots rang out, and the boy fell dead.

  At this point, the unrest turned into turmoil. Skirmishes broke out as people tried to escape. Several men broke from the column and ran toward the bushes that bordered the fields. A sleigh driver tried to escape as he urged the horses away from the station. Guardsmen opened fire, and the men running to the bushes fell and lay still. The man and his family on the sleigh did not escape death either. A machine gun caught up with them; he and his wife were killed, and his elderly mother and three children wounded.

  Facing guns from every direction, the arrested farmers finally gave up, and order and silence were restored.

  Group after group disappeared into the cattle cars. When the loading was completed, the doors were closed and locked, and a guard posted at each door. The dead were left behind in the field.

  Vasylyk was in the last car. He was lucky enough to have his entire family with him, but it was torture for him to see his parents and his sister suffering under such horrible conditions. There were at least fifty people in his car, all herded into the cars that had been designed for livestock transportation. There were no beds or seats. The wooden floor, pierced by holes, was the only place where they could sit: there was no place where the sick could lie down.

  It was dark inside the cars when the doors were closed. Only feeble shafts of daylight penetrated the cracks in the sides of the car. There was total confusion: those standing tried to find a place to sit down, and those sitting were trampled by the ones standing. There was shouting and arguing, and women were weeping for their husbands who were packed into other cars. Children cried for food; all suffered from the cold.

  The lack of food and adequate clothing aggravated the situation. The arrested had been prohibited from taking any of their possessions, except for the personal belongings they could carry. And, since no one suspected that he or she would have to leave their home or village, the majority had failed to take their most needed belongings.

  A pail in the middle of the cattle-car served as a toilet for all fifty people. A throng of people continually stood and waited their turn. Those who wanted to reach it had to literally walk over those sitting on the floor. This embarrassing situation increased the arguing and fighting.

  The attempts to call the attention of the officials to the unbearable conditions were unsuccessful. Thus, hungry and cold, crowded together in the stinking cars, the arrested began their forced journey to an unknown destination.

  The train was set in motion around midnight. When it crossed the bridge over the Dnipro River, all realized that it was heading north. The train moved slowly, and often stopped. At times, it stood still for hours. During one stop the door was unlocked and opened halfway. The first thing the arrested saw were two soldiers armed with rifles, ready to shoot. Another group of soldiers waited with sacks and buckets. The officer in charge announced that a loaf of bread would be given to every four persons and a herring to each. The water would be distributed from the buckets. The arrested were warned that those buckets were government property, and it was the responsibility of everyone in the car to see that they did not get damaged. A “supervisor” of the car had to be chosen who would be responsible for the distribution of the food and water, and for keeping order and “cleanliness” in the car which still had no proper sanitation facilities.

  After these brief instructions, the soldiers shoved the sacks containing the bread and herrings and the buckets of water into the car and the door was locked again.

  Immediately, the hungry people started shoving and arguing. Each had their own idea of how the food and water should be distributed. Opinions were expressed loudly. The strong pushed aside the weaker. The shouting and fighting were accompanied by the pitiful whining of the children.

  Choosing a supervisor from among the group was a problem, for the position would naturally associate the individual with the officials. Nevertheless, one was chosen and the distribution of the food began.

  Toward morning on the second day of the journey, a desperate cry of a woman woke up those who were still asleep: her husband had died. During the riot in the village square, he had been slightly wounded by a bullet in his leg. Afraid to be separated from his wife and then killed somewhere behind the walls of a GPU prison, he concealed his wound from the officials. A subsequent infection killed him. His corpse was removed at the next station stop. The sobbing wife of the deceased husband begged the officials for permission to be present at his funeral, but she was not even permitted to step out of the car. The men who carried the body away said there were many deaths on the train that night, and their corpses were piled up on the platform.

  This first death affected the people in the car. The crying and shouting, as well as the quarrels and disagreements ceased. Everyone realized that the next dead one might be he or she.

  The train moved forward slowly but steadily. It became colder. Contrary to everybody’s expectations, the train did not stay long at the Moscow freight station. After a short stop, it gave a prolonged whistle and moved forward again. Those who sat close to the walls could see the lights of Moscow through the cracks.

  The next stop was Alexandrov. By then, it had become unbearably cold, and the inmates of the train were suffering severely. Here Vasylyk lost his mother and sister. His mother who had fallen asleep sitting in the car, was stricken with a heart attack and never awakened. When her body was taken away, her daughter was permitted to step out of the car and follow the bearers. Vasylyk and his father were denied this privilege. When the bearers returned to the car, Vasylyk’s sister was not with them; she was said to have been detained by a GPU officer.

  As the train started up again, Vasylyk’s father was silent. He expressed neither sorrow nor agitation; he just kept repeating from time to time: “My dear girls; my dear girls!”

  The train began moving faster after Alexandrov. It passed many towns and villages without stopping. It was still snowing.

  From signs and the names of the railroad stations, it was obvious that the train was moving in the direction of Archangelsk, a port on the White Sea. However, no one knew its exact destination.

  On the twelfth night of the journey, the train stopped. No sign of a settlement could be seen through the cracks in the walls but increased activity by the guards suggested that it was not a usual stop.

  In the morning, the door was opened, and instead of passing the usual daily rations of food and water to everyone, the guard ordered all to leave the ca
r and line up beside it. Those who were not able to do so were carried out and placed on the snow. The usual chain of security troops surrounded the train and its cargo. The majority of the soldiers were from Central Asia.

  As soon as the unloading was finished, the empty train left. To the arrested families who remained behind in the endless solitude, the disappearing train symbolized the end of everything. Vasylyk’s first thought was that this would be his grave; that they would all be executed on the spot.

  There was no sign of life around: no roads; no town; only a snowy plain which stretched for miles in all directions. Only a few snow-covered weeds and shrubs interrupted the monotony of the Artic expanse. In the distance loomed the silhouette of a forest, which would be the destination of the prisoners.

  The officer in charge passed the warning that anyone attempting to leave the column would be shot. After roll call the column was set into motion. The sick who could not move were left behind on the ground under guard. No one ever saw them again. The children who could not walk were carried by their parents. Since there was no road, walking was extremely difficult and everyone had to follow in the tracks of the guards who led the way into the forest.

  It was the coldest time of the winter in that region, and a blizzard blew violently from the north. Walking through the deep snow made the prisoners’ feet wet, and soon they began to freeze. Many could not walk very far, and these were left behind.

  Vasylyk’s father had become sick during the train journey, apparently with pneumonia. Vasylyk helped his father along as much as he could, but in his sick and weakened condition, the old man collapsed. Another man in the column helped pull his father up, and Vasylyk began to carry him. It was difficult doing this through the deep snow, but he wouldn’t leave his father behind. The officer in charge noticed them, and ordered Vasylyk to abandon him. He did not obey the order; he could not leave his father to die in the snow alone. The officer called the guards, and two huge Mongols came up and knocked Vasylyk down, wrestling his father away from him. Only then did he notice that his father was already dead. At gunpoint, he had to abandon his father’s body in the snow.

  After three or four long hours of difficult stumbling and walking, the column reached its destination deep in the woods.

  It was peaceful all around: there was no sound, and no visible motion. The ground was covered by a blanket of snow. Huge, dark pine trees stood all around, their branches weighed down by snow and ice. Beneath and among them, at some distance, were several small huts, the only sign of human habitatation. Those facilities were built especially for the guardsmen, the inmates learned later.

  The officer in charge explained that this place was to be their new home. He pointed out that as “enemies of the people,” they should have been executed, but the government had decided to let them live in the hope that they would start a new way of life. He then said that the prisoners were to be divided into three labor groups.

  The first group, consisting of the young and strong, would work in the forest as woodcutters; the second group would fence the settlement with barbed wire; and the last group was to build dwellings. This latter group included all the women and children. The officer assured the prisoners that the necessary tools would arrive at any moment. There was no food either, and even though he knew the prisoners had not eaten all day, he considered this a trifling matter. He was certain they could wait until the food arrived the next morning. Then he ordered the heads of families to make shelters and build fires for the night that was fast approaching.

  It was only the dim hope of survival, and perhaps a return to their homes someday that kept these villagers alive as they prepared themselves for that first Arctic night in the forest. All who were still able to walk, rushed into the woods. Although they had no axes or other tools, by sheer determination they erected temporary shelters and fires were lit before nightfall.

  Vasylyk joined a family of his acquaintances to build a shelter out of pine branches, but it didn’t give too much protection against the Arctic weather. Everyone sat huddled around their fires all night long as a blizzard raged and the wind howled. The snow threatened to extinguish the fires.

  Morning finally came and the storm had quieted. The officer then ordered all the prisoners to come to the middle of the camp. Everyone had to stand in line for the roll call, including the children and the sick. Many people had died during the night: some from exposure, others from exhaustion and starvation. The officer in charge ordered the corpses brought to the center of the camp and piled up in front of the line of prisoners, because even they had to be counted and identified.

  After the roll call, a soldier read the list of assignments to various brigades. Then the food rations were distributed for the food and tools had arrived during the night.

  Vasylyk was assigned to the brigade of woodcutters, and that morning was sent out into the forest to work.

  He was still determined to escape and find and bury his father’s body, for he was sure it was still lying in field where he last saw it. He also hoped that on the way back home he might find his sister who had been abducted in Alexandrov. However, his several attempted escapes were unsuccessful, as the guards were too watchful and experienced to allow an “enemy of the people” to escape easily, and he was severely punished for each attempt, but the punishments could not deter him from his intention and only increased his determination.

  It took Vasylyk more than two years to finally escape.

  In May 1932, while Vasylyk was still working as a woodcutter and his brigade were loading wood unto a train, he met a railroad man, also a Ukrainian, who had been exiled to the region earlier. This newfound friend gave Vasylyk clothing and a pair of shoes. Thus, disguised in more or less ordinary clothing, he was able to elude the guards.

  Hidden in the locomotive as a stoker, he reached Arkhangelsk, which was in the opposite direction from his destination. From there, he sent us an anonymous letter, hoping to mislead the authorities. Then he started his journey homeward, traveling mostly by freight trains.

  On the way, he stopped in Alexandrov to look for his sister, and the grave of his mother, but in vain. The cemetery attendants could not remember burying a woman of his mother’s description. He was also unable to find his father and had no success in locating his sister. He finally realized that his search for his family was futile.

  A new acquaintance, introduced to him by his Ukrainian friend, advised him to go to Moscow. The friend said that it would be much easier for him to outmaneuver the militia in that large city. So Vasylyk decided to try his luck there, although it was prohibited to enter Moscow without special permission. He got there by catching a moving freight train.

  But Moscow was not the place for Vasylyk. He could not speak Russian well and looked too much like a Ukrainian farmer, all of whom were being hunted like rabbits. Besides that, it was impossible for him to find work. Every place he applied for a job, he was asked to present identification papers. Therefore, to avoid being captured and arrested again, he decided to return to his homeland, Ukraine.

  Having had experience in traveling by train without tickets, he reached Kiev safely. There he repeated his endeavors to find work, but was again unsuccessful. He was recognized everywhere as a farmer, and farmers were prohibited from leaving their villages without official permission.

  He finally decided to return to his native village. That is how he arrived at our home. Vasylyk lived with us for a few weeks, but, eager to work and to avoid staying in one place for long, he decided to move to the town. After another unsuccessful attempt to find work in town, he returned to our village only to meet his death at the hands of Mayevsky.

  CHAPTER 16

  AS SOON AS we returned to the village, Comrade Mayevsky woke up and ordered me to stop near the village soviet. He then informed the first militiaman we met that I was under arrest and ordered him to put me in the jail.

  Since the eviction of the kurkuls, my Uncle Havrylo’s house had become the office o
f the village soviet. Surrounded by neat auxiliary buildings and beautiful trees, it was very attractive from the outside, and roomy enough inside to accommodate the village government. Its location in the center of the village was another reason for its being chosen. Having settled down comfortably in the new office, the village officials established a hitherto unknown institution in the village, a jail. My uncle’s pantry had been quickly remodeled with everything used for storage purposes thrown out, and a hole made in the wall for a window.

  Once in jail, I realized that I would be charged with helping an “enemy of the people” escape from “Soviet law and the will of the working people.” When my eyes became accustomed to the darkness in the room, I could recognize my fellow prisoners, about twelve farmers. I knew most of them personally, including Dmytro, my neighbor and a distant relative. It so happened that while plowing a field, he had run across a stone, thereby damaging the plow. Although this was a very common occurrence, the brigade leader said Dmytro had done it on purpose to slow down the work and lessen the output of the collective farm. At first, Dmytro thought that the brigade leader was joking, but when he realized that the man was serious, he lost control and punched the leader in the nose. As a result Dmytro was put in jail.

  Only about five years before, Dmytro had married a beautiful girl, and three years before his arrest, he had become a father. He told me that had been the happiest moment in his life. Now his happiness, and probably his life, were coming to an end.

  A similar incident led another neighbor of mine to be sent to jail. The horse with which he had been working in the field stumbled and sprained a tendon in its foot. This too was a common occurrence, but Comrade Cherepin thought differently. He claimed that the horse’s foot was sprained because of carelessness and had my neighbor put in jail with no hope of returning to his sick wife and four children.