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

e¬ ful here. I told him I had been a horse breeder but observed that this was of little use in this forest. I noticed how his eyes sparkled when I spoke enthusiastically of my horses. He promised to put me in charge of some one hundred horses which would be arriv¬ ing shortly. Meanwhile I was to recommend someone to take my place. I went to one of my acquaintances, Abram Fransen, who con¬ sented to take the job. He was a very practical man who once worked as a bookkeeper in the Nikolaifeld village council. He hesitated to accept the post, but finally agreed to do so ... . Fransen had a difficult task. The work had to be done quickly and skil¬ fully. It was extremely difficult to infuse the almost lifeless bodies of the workers with any kind of creative energy. Most were deeply depressed and discouraged. It was impossible for these peaceable men to grasp that survival in these distant woods depended on their work and determination. They often failed to realize that they were masters of their own fate. The slightest conflict, whether at the workplace or during the bread distribution in the barracks, produced tension and difficulty. The men came from different villages, cities and regions and each individual held to his own opinions and possessed his particular expertise. This demanded a wise and careful leader. Dear Mr. Fransen often had his hands full. If our Germans had learned something of community life at home; learned to place the interests of society above their personal ones; if they had learned to sacrifice for the public welfare; if they understood how to give in — then things might have gone more easily and fewer would have found premature deaths. Those first days, weeks and months required nerves of steel on the part of the leaders. It required self-assurance and tact, but also the ability to adjust physically and mentally to a new lifestyle. Many of us were in despair and the elderly men tired of life. Everything seemed gloomy and impossible. They began the morning in a state of hopelessness, fearing the cold, hungry workday. The body froze and so did the feet, the hands and even the heart. Only rarely was 190 JOURNEYS someone really possessed of body, soul and spirit at the worksite, and yet the construction work went forward. No one asked how we felt. We were dependent upon ourselves. Over one thousand men still slept under the open sky. There was still no kitchen. The large kettles were hung from beams placed between the trees. The preparation of the meager camp diet went on day and night. No dining hall existed and people simply came with their metal or wooden bowls. There was not enough water for drinking and washing dishes, not to mention bathing. Lice and other vermin abounded. At the end of the day there was nowhere to dry the wet boots, clothes and gloves .... Night and day hundreds of people sat or lay about the bonfires, often amid falling snow. In the barracks torche