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

. . . yet the north¬ ern forest had its compensations. Berries were everywhere, some¬ times entire fields were covered with them. There were of course those moments when the guards were not looking or simply closed an eye [and we could eat our fill]. People tried to escape but most were caught. It was pitiful to see them return — their bodies bruised and their flesh torn by the dogs. They were publicly shown to the prisoners to discourage further attempts at escape. Some of our drivers disappeared with four of our horses. They knew the forest well and were never found. In such cases I was naturally suspect. Personally I remained among the most privileged prisoners. I made a daily round of all the brigades and so spent the day on my horse. It provided a splendid insight into everyday life in the woods .... I had no complaints about my supervisor. During the duration of my stay in this second camp, he never interfered in my jurisdiction. One never knows when misfortune strikes. By late fall (1938) we were more or less into our winter transport mode. The night frosts were fairly severe and the first snow lay in the forest. Day¬ time thawing still occurred. The switch from summer to winter transport was always problematical. I was working late and left my office around twelve midnight. The distance from the office to the barn was about half a kilometer. When I arrived the watch¬ man was asleep. He was an old man and I did not wish to scold him. Six lanterns were burning in the barn. While he slept I inspected the horses, then blew out the lights. Gently I woke him and asked him why he kept the barn so dark. I still see him trying to explain the dilemma. Meanwhile our harness repairman was still at work. When I walked into the room I noticed that the stove and the stove pipes were red hot. He was a very conscientious man and only wanted to sleep when he completed his work. He and Jacob Fransen were the only ones of my former colleagues who were transferred to this camp. I asked him if the red hot stove was not dangerous and he promised to let it cool down before going to sleep. The roof of his room was connected with our granary, where we kept a years supply of oats. We chatted for a bit. Then I walked through the boys’ room, which was also well-heated, came to my room and was soon fast asleep. I had not slept very long when I heard shouting and a loud MEMOIRS OF ARON WARKENTIN 199 pounding on my door .... I was up in a flash and jumped out my window. A section of the roof was on fire. It burned slowly al¬ most as if it could not properly ignite the heavy log roof. I don’t recall how I got on the roof without a ladder, but there I was seeking to remove the burning shingles .... In their panic the boys threw all their bedding and furniture out the window to save what they could. Had I come out a few minutes later the building would have burned to the ground . . . but God, the true Watch¬ man,