JOURNEYS Mennonite Stories of Faith and Survival in Stalins Russia, John B. Toews, 1998

ights those closer to the center of the city were loaded on trucks, taken to the railway station, and forced into the train cars. The doors were locked, guards posted and early next morning the trains left for unknown destinations. Peo¬ ple were going home but they did not know it. There was all sorts of speculation. Some felt they were going abroad, others thought the northern forests. No one seemed to have their heads on straight. When I think back to those days of more than forty years ago in Moscow I still shudder. The determined intervention of the Moscow government more or less shattered the notion of an actual legal emigration. The people were without leadership and faced a hopeless future. It was almost morning when there was a loud knock on the door. Government officials brought the news that those who were still in Moscow and wished to emigrate would begin to depart this evening .... In the morning we headed to the designated meeting place. A young man provided directions. Each person was to present their papers to the designated group leader and if possible make a spe- MEMOIRS OF ARON WARKENTIN 147 cial contribution for the destitute [refugees]. No one was allowed to take more than one hundred rubles with them and so people headed to the Moscow market to buy as much as possible. Some loaned their money to others, while some bought new clothing. The appearance of the group changed from day to day. In the evening the well-dressed first group climbed into the lovely pas¬ senger rail cars and soon the train left, carrying them towards new life and distant destinations .... The first group crossed the border without any serious com¬ plications. Later it became more difficult. Then the arrests began — the teachers Johann Toews and Heinrich Rosenfeld, Annas step¬ father. After several days some of the brethren from Suvorovka were arrested, including Fast, Wiebe, Boldt, Epp and Nikkei. That was unnerving. I thought of my little girls — Michi, Lenie, Annie and of their mother. I was very distraught. It was the evening before our group was to leave. Our travel documents had to be submitted. I waited with Johann Giesbrecht and Gerhard Born. I was deeply agitated but outwardly appeared calm. The commission was late and we could not get our papers that evening, so finally we went to bed. Early in the morning Johann Giesbrecht arrived. He had his visas. “What about us?” I shouted from the bedroom. “There is some problem but I don't know what it is,” he answered. Brother Giesbrecht, Born and I went to the station together. We belonged to the same group yet some were destined to leave, the others to remain and suffer. Why, oh my God? In the evening I accompanied the happy emigrants to the rail¬ way station. There was Gerhard Born and his wife — who had no children and experienced little trauma in this life. There was Johann Giesbrecht who could have stayed because he was not disenfran¬ chised