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

same clothes. We were totally exhausted. Susa and Liese Klassen had their old mother with them and tried to make a bed for her [each night]. One morning we heard that a lady had died in the next car. When the train stopped I said to Neta, “Lets go and see what happened.” When we arrived they were just carrying out Mrs. Enns who had journeyed to her heav¬ enly home during the night. They carried her to a house near the railway station. Then they had to return to the railway cars. No one knows where her earthly body was buried or who buried her. She will rise to eternal life when the trumpet of God shall sound. Mrs. Enns was Netas aunt. People asked each other where we were going. Some thought ???, others thought we would be unloaded in a desert. We were so tired that we really didn’t care. One day after fourteen days of travel the train stopped. We wanted to get out and cook as usual but they would not open the doors. Then suddenly came the command “unload!” This is where we were to stay. Everything was unloaded under the open sky. It was cold and began to rain. A few wagons transported our meager belonging to a large empty school. It was near the railway station Mastuk, a town with 10 to 12 streets and three Russian schools and one Kazak school. We were all crammed into these buildings. We were among the last to get into shelter. Wet and frozen, we did not notice the lice. They became active as soon as things warmed up. In the school we 72 JOURNEYS found a small corner on the floor where we could put down a few things. It rained the entire next day. There was deep mud on the yard and the street. Since there were no provisions for cleaning shoes, all the mud was brought inside. It was fortunate that, after a few days, there was more room. The village chairman, following orders, came with wagons to get people for work [on the collectives]. They walked through the rooms and selected their workers, mostly the young with few chil¬ dren. The young soon disappeared. The entire affair resembled a slave market. The old and the children were left for no one wanted them. We were among these. The schools had to be vacated, however, and so after two weeks a wagon arrived for us. We were told to take our things and come to the wagon. A friendly Rus¬ sian lad had come with his team of oxen and a cart. A second ox cart also arrived. Netas mother, Mrs. Willms, as well as Tina and Peter Willms and their children also climbed on board. At last some thirteen of us drove in the direction of our new home where, as Tina Willms always said, we would only stay until the end of the war. Then we would return to Kleefeld. She did not want to unpack. She always said we would soon be returning. I told her, “They did not bring us here in order to take us back again. We are here for as long as we shall live.” . . . Now back to that evening when we arrived at our destination. It had become completely dark and the child