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

for in a single day they lost all their privileges. Even my workers like Harms and others did not show up to take charge of their horses. Now the MEMOIRS OF ARON WARKENTIN 211 Germans, usually accompanied by four soldiers, were marched off in tightly organized brigades. Armed with axe and saw they be¬ came tree fellers. It was an intense path of suffering and very few lived to ever experience freedom. Life was especially difficult for the intellectuals. Not accustomed to hard work and poor food, they were usually the first victims. After the morning inspection I returned to my room, dread¬ ing the things which lay ahead. Suddenly I was startled by the ring of the telephone. Almost indifferently I lifted the receiver. It was Petilov who asked me to come to the office, some five hun¬ dred meters from the camp. Contrary to my expectations he re¬ ceived me warmly and handed me an order from the administra¬ tion which allowed me complete freedom of movement twenty- fours hours a day. I thanked him and returned to my quarters with a heavy heart. Outwardly my situation had not changed, but inwardly I knew I had to be as quiet and unobtrusive as possible. I remained in my position for many months but knew it could not last. One day our supervisor called me into his office, turned on the radio and allowed me to hear the latest news. Warmly and affectionately he reassured me that things would go well for me, but suggested that I resign my position as the head of the horse park. Why not go to a smaller camp and take charge of its horse park? I took his advice and bade him an affectionate farewell.... I sensed I would not remain at the new camp, “Tschornaya Retschka,” for very long. I nevertheless poured all my energies into my new job. Several months quickly passed by ... . It was already spring. One day I walked from the barracks to the horse park when one of the oldest guards asked me to step into the office. He asked me for my family name. When he realized that it was German he expressed amazement at my secure and independent life in hiding at a time when Russia and Germany were at war. I knew my time had come. Before evening two soldiers led me to the camp administration, all of whom knew me personally, as a marked criminal. I was brought to a crude barrack to join my fellow nationals. An awful smell, reminiscent of the prison cells of 1929-30 and 1937 greeted me. My sudden appearance took the other inmates by surprise. I saw tired, emaciated faces and bodies dressed in ragged clothes, people who had been shut off from the rest of the world and over¬ burdened by [work] quotas and norms. Since June 22 they had 212 JOURNEYS thought of me as a traitor, now I too was in their midst. They were regarded as the most dangerous enemies of the Russian na¬ tion and now I was counted among them. Something seemed amiss since I was greeted by absolute silence. Almost everyone here knew me either perso