Travel

Frida Shatkhina
Mogilyov-Podolskiy
Ukraine
Interviewer: Ella Levitskaya
Date of the interview: May 2004

Frida Shatkhina lives in a one-bedroom apartment in the center of Mogilyov-Podolskiy. The plant of food industry machine building constructed this 5-storied panel apartment building for its employees in the 1960s, and Frida’s husband received an apartment here. Frida’s husband died in 1992 and she lives alone. She has no children. Galina, an older Ukrainian woman, helps Frida about the house. She keeps it very clean, but the apartment itself is poorly furnished. Galina takes care of Frida. Frida is a short thin woman. She wears her gray hair in a knot. She is 90 years old. She gets tired easily, but she tells her story willingly. Regretfully, she’s forgotten many things, but she still has an interesting story to tell and is fond of telling it.

My family background

Growing up

During the war

After the war

Glossary

My family background

My father’s family lived in the village of Borovka, Chernevtsy district, Vinnitsa province [5 km from Vinnitsa, about 280 km from Kiev]. I never saw my father’s parents. My grandmother died before I was born and my grandfather died when I was still a child. They were buried in the Jewish cemetery in Borovka.

I know that before the Revolution of 1917 1 my father’s sisters and brothers lived in Borovka, but I never saw them and I don’t know their names. Perhaps, my father mentioned them, but after so many years my memory fails me. Vinnitsa region was within the Pale of Settlement 2 before the revolution and almost every settlement was a Jewish town there. After the revolution my father’s relatives moved to other towns or even countries, perhaps.

A small nameless dried out river crease divided Borovka village into two parts. Jews, who constituted almost half of its population, lived in both parts of the village. The rest of the villagers were Ukrainian. There were two synagogues in Borovka – one in each part. There was a separate room for women, who could listen to prayers through small windows. Jews mostly resided in the right-bank part of the village that was its center.

Most of the houses in Borovka were ‘mazanka’ houses. The word derives from the Russian term ‘mazat’ meaning apply clay on wooden carcasses of houses. In the 1930s the saman – air-brick – houses appeared. Air bricks were a mixture of clay and manure. Most of the houses had straw roofs. Only the wealthiest families had tin sheet roofing.  

There was little land in the central part of the village and Jewish houses actually adjusted to one another. They only had sufficient land to grow some greenery. Ukrainians were farmers: they had vegetable and fruit gardens and fields.

Jews were craftsmen for the most part: tailors, shoemakers, barbers. There was also a blacksmith and a harness-maker. Jews owned stores: there were two or three fabric and garment shops and the rest of them were food stores selling daily consumer goods – salt, matches, sugar, cereals, tea, glass and wicks for kerosene lamps, etc.

Jewish families were religious. On Sabbath and Jewish holidays all men put on their black suits and black hats to go to the synagogue. Women attended the synagogue on the main Jewish holidays. Most men had beards, and the rabbi and shochet had payes. Married women wore wigs. All families celebrated Sabbath and Jewish holidays at home.

My father, Haim Shatkhin, was born in the 1880s. My father studied in cheder and this was all the education he got. He helped his father, who owned a small store. After my grandfather died, my father inherited his store.

My mother’s family lived in the Jewish town of Chernevtsy. After the revolution of 1917 it became a district town. I don’t remember my maternal grandparents. My grandfather, whose surname was Rozenberg, died shortly after my parents got married.

Of all my mother’s relatives I only knew her older brother, Haim Rozenberg, who lived with his wife Riva and their three children in Chernevtsy. Haim owned a small fabric store. However, this store must have been profitable. Haim was considered to be a wealthy man. My mother, Reizl Rozenberg, was born in 1886. She told me she came from a big family, but I didn’t know any of her brothers or sisters.

My mother’s parents were religious and raised their children religiously. My mother’s teacher was a melamed from the cheder. He taught my mother and her sisters to read prayers in Hebrew. I don’t know whether my mother could read or write in Hebrew. She couldn’t write or read in Ukrainian or Russian. My mother’s family spoke Yiddish at home. They also had a good conduct of Ukrainian to talk with their Ukrainian neighbors. 

There was a big choral synagogue in Chernevtsy. After the revolution the cheder was turned into a four-year Jewish elementary school. There were two Ukrainian seven-year schools. There was a shochet in the town before World War II. There was a big market in the center of the village where the local villagers and villagers from neighboring villages sold their products. Bigger market days took place there twice a week. 

During the revolution and the Civil War 3 several Jewish pogroms 4 happened. I can’t remember them. All I remember is that our Ukrainian neighbors always gave us shelter in their cellar. We, children, were ordered to keep silent in this cellar. Our family stayed safe from the gangs 5. Jews got along well with their Ukrainian neighbors. 

I don’t know any details about how my parents met. I think there could have been matchmakers involved. Even when I was in my teens, all weddings were prearranged by shadkhanim, if both young people lived in the same town. Borovka is located in about 15 kilometers from Chernevtsy. My parents had a traditional Jewish wedding in Chernevtsy. Afterward my mother put on a wig.

After the wedding my parents moved to Borovka. My father had sold his parents’ house to have money for the wedding and the start of their marital life. My parents rented half of the house from an older Jewish couple. It was an ordinary mazanka house. There was a front door in the central part of the house and two doors in the fore room: the door on the left – to the landlords’ part of the house, and the one on the right – to our lodging.

There was a big kitchen and a Russian stove in it 6. The stove heated the kitchen and a room. We had a small yard. Our landlords grew onions, garlic and beans in their part of the yard. There was a shed where my mother kept wood for winter and chickens. My father worked in the store, and my mother was a housewife and also helped my father in the store.

In 1912 my older brother Boruch – Boris 7 in Russian – was born. I was born in 1914. I was named Frida after one of my grandmothers – I don’t remember which of them. In 1916 my second brother Abram was born. My younger sister Betia was born in 1919. My parents observed Jewish traditions, and both their sons were circumcised, as required.

My parents were religious like all Jews in Borovka. My father went to the synagogue on Sabbath and on Jewish holidays. He had a beard and wore a yarmulka or a hat. My mother went to the synagogue on Jewish holidays, like all Jewish women in Borovka. We always celebrated Sabbath and Jewish holidays.

On Friday morning my mother went to the market and when she returned, she made dough to bake bread and challot. She also cooked dinner. Meanwhile the dough rose and she made brown bread for the week to come and two wheat flour challot. When she took the bread out of the stove, she placed there a pot with chulent with meat, potatoes and beans for the next day. The chulent was still hot, when she took it out of the stove before lunch on Saturday.

In the evening my mother lit candles. She prayed over them and then we sat down to dinner. Nobody worked on Saturday. My father’s store was closed. No Jews worked on Saturday. My father went to the synagogue in the morning. When he returned, he told us stories from the Torah. We didn’t know Hebrew. We spoke Yiddish at home, and my father translated for us into Yiddish.

After the revolution the cheder in Borovka was closed. Wealthier Jews hired the melamed to teach their children Hebrew and prayers at home. My parents couldn’t afford it.

Pesach was the main holiday in our family. We started preparations a few months before the holiday. We ordered matzah at the synagogue. It was baked in the Jewish bakery in Chernevtsy and delivered to Borovka. Poorer families baked their own matzah, but we ordered ours. There was no bread in the house throughout all days of Pesach. The houses were newly whitewashed and window frames and shutters painted before the holiday. 

Growing up

My mother sent me or my brother to the shochet to have him slaughter chickens for the holiday. My mother saved eggs for Pesach. She made chicken broth with dumplings from matzah flour, gefilte fish and various matzah and potato puddings.

We took the special Pesach crockery and kitchen utensils from the attic before Pesach. We only used it once a year. It was kept in a big wicker basket with a lid. Mama had separate dishes for meat and dairy products required by the kashrut. However, this was still our daily crockery, and it was taken to the storeroom for the duration of this holiday.

In the evening my mother covered the table with a white tablecloth. There were wine glasses put on the table, and a big one for the Prophet Elijah in the center of the table. On Pesach children also had some wine. My father reclined on cushions at the head of the table. He broke a piece of matzah into three smaller pieces and hid away the middle part. One of the children was to find this piece and give it back to father for a ransom. I don’t remember if I ever managed to steal this piece of matzah. 

My father read the Haggadah, and my brother posed the four traditional questions to him. He learned these questions by heart. Then we had dinner, and then my father and mother recited prayers and we sang merry Pesach songs. The front door was always kept open to let Elijah in. 

Before Rosh Hashanah they blew the shofar at the synagogue for a whole month. The sound of it was loud and strident and was heard across the village.

Then came the Judgment Day, Yom Kippur. The fast started on the eve of this holiday. Adults fasted, and the children wanted to do as they did. Mama didn’t allow us to fast, when we were young. She said missing one meal was quite sufficient. In the morning we went to the synagogue. It was required to pray until the first star appeared in the sky. Older children also went to the synagogue, and the younger ones stayed at home in the care of Ukrainian neighbors or acquaintances.

After Yom Kippur preparations for Sukkot began. Father made a sukkah in the yard. We, kids, assisted him fetching a hammer or a plank. When the sukkah was ready, we decorated it with green branches, flowers, ribbons. We also made decorations from chicken feathers. Each family tried to make their sukkah more beautiful than the others. There was a table installed in the sukkah, and the family had meals and prayed in the sukkah.

In winter we celebrated Chanukkah. Mama had a bronze channukkiyah where she lit one more candle each day. The children made the rounds of relatives and neighbors singing a song about Chanukkah. Relatives gave children Chanukkah gelt. We spent it on sweets and toys.

We also liked Purim, a merry holiday. In the morning all went to the synagogue. The children got rattles. When the rabbi mentioned the name of Haman, the villain, we had to make as much noise as possible to make it impossible to hear his name. There were many delicacies cooked. There was a custom to send treats to relatives, acquaintances and friends on Purim. Children made the rounds of houses, and when housewives returned empty trays, they put some small change on them. We celebrated holidays before the Great Patriotic War 8 and both synagogues operated.

My father kept his store for some time after the Civil War. It was probably too small to be attractive for authorities. My mother’s brother also kept his business for some time. They did their business themselves, and the authorities started expropriation of those who hired employees.

My brother went to school. I followed him two years later. After finishing the four-year Jewish school its pupils continued their studies in the Ukrainian school. My parents decided to send my brother and me to the Ukrainian school from the very beginning. We were fluent in Ukrainian and had no problems in this regard.

I liked school. I made new friends: Jewish and Ukrainian. There were quite a few Jewish pupils in my class. The teachers treated us in a similar manner, and there was no segregation at school. I have happy memories about school.

After school I hurried home to do my homework and housework. Mama spent much time in the store, and I had my home chores to do. I cleaned and did the laundry and cleaned vegetables so that my mother spent less time cooking. I also had to look after my sister, who was five years younger than me. And I also managed to play with my friends in the street and read a little.

We didn’t have books at home. I borrowed books from the school library. I didn’t become a pioneer 9 at school. They started admission from those, who had all excellent marks, and when it was my turn, I decided against it feeling hurt.

In 1924 my older brother Boruch fell ill with scarlet fever and died. He was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Borovka, and the funeral was according to all rules. Father recited the Kaddish over my brother’s grave. Mama sat shivah for a week. She was alone since Father worked in his store, and my younger brother Abram and I had to go to school. 

I finished the seven-year school in 1929. I was the oldest in the family: my brother and sister still went to school. I had to support the family and go to work.

In the middle of the 1920s Jewish and Ukrainian kolkhozes 10 were organized in Borovka. The Jewish kolkhoz 11 had a cow farm and farmlands growing grain and vegetables. I went to work in the field. During summer vacations my younger sister and brother also worked in the field to earn some money.

We got payment in fall after harvest time. We were paid a little money and grain and vegetables for our work. I wanted to buy a cut of fabric to make a dress so much, but there was too little money for anything. I decided I had to find a better-paid job, which was hard to do in Borovka.

Hard times came in 1932-33. Famine 12 came to Ukraine, and the situation in villages was much worse than in towns. Those, who had farmlands and vegetable gardens, were better off while we had just nothing. We starved. We picked berries, mushrooms and some roots in the woods. However, we all managed somehow, but my father. He caught a terrible cold in winter and was very weak.

In winter 1933 Father died. We buried him in the Jewish cemetery near his parents and my older brother Boruch. After he died the authorities took away his store from us. Mother decided we had to move to Chernevtsy to live closer to her brother.

My acquaintance in Chernevtsy was a communication operator at the post office. He said I could get some training to become a telephone operator. Mama, my younger brother and sister moved to Chernevtsy. We rented two small rooms and a kitchen from a local woman. She was a single older Jewish woman. She lived in her house in one room.

My acquaintance helped me to get a job at the post office. It didn’t take me long to learn the job of a telephone operator. There was no automatic dialing at that time. Telephone operators worked manually. There was nothing hard about this job, as long as we were attentive. I received salary and occasional food packages: flour, cereal, sunflower oil.

My brother Abram also went to work at the post office, and was trained to be a communication operator. A Vinnitsa communication school affiliate opened in Chernevtsy and my brother went to study there by correspondence. After finishing this school he was offered a job in ‘Spetssviaz’ [special communication] at the NKVD 13 office. His office was responsible for installation and maintenance of special communication cables.

My sister went to study at the one-year accounting course after finishing school. After finishing this course she entered the Accounting Faculty of the Financial and Economic College in Vinnitsa where she met her future husband. I don’t remember his first name, but his last name was Solomon. He came from the village of Kalinovka near Vinnitsa. They got married in 1940 and Betia moved to live with her husband.

My brother married Sima, a Jewish girl from Chernevtsy in 1938. After the wedding he moved to his wife’s place. They registered their marriage in a registry office and had a wedding dinner with relatives. They couldn’t afford bigger celebrations at this hard time. In 1939 my brother’s son Boris was born. He was named after our deceased older brother. In 1940 their daughter Raisa was born.

In 1936 arrests 14 began. They also happened in Chernevtsy. Some of our acquaintances were arrested. Of course, it was hard to believe that the people, whom we knew well, happened to be enemies of people 15, but we couldn’t help believing it since we knew for sure that innocent people could not be arrested.

They didn’t capture common people basically. They arrested communists, local officials. They might arrest those, who mentioned that life was hard or that there was lack of food. There were such people – innocent, but accused. We also understood that we could not say that an innocent person had been arrested, and all people around kept silent. 

There was no anti-Semitism before the war, we didn’t face any. Jews and Ukrainians had the same life. Sometimes my friends and I went to the cinema or attended lectures in the evening: we could afford such entertainment. We had a poor and difficult life, but everybody lived the same.

During the war

On Sunday 22nd  June 1941 it was my turn to work on the weekend. I came to work in the morning, and my colleagues told me in secret that Germany had attacked the USSR, that there were battles in Belarus going on, and Kiev was bombed. Telephone operators were aware of many things: working at the telephone station we occasionally heard pieces of conversation.

Of course, I felt scared at once, but then I calmed down. Radio and newspapers had mentioned a possible war before, but always in the context that our army was invincible and that we would defeat the enemy on their territory. And of course, I believed this like everybody else did. We were convinced that our army was the strongest, and our military equipment was the best. Nobody had any doubts that the war would last only a few days, or probably weeks.

I went home for lunch. My sister was visiting us. She was having lunch with Mama. We were having a chat, but I didn’t tell them about the war not to spoil their mood. Only when leaving for work after lunch I told Mama and Betia that if they heard about the war, let them not panic since everything would be over pretty soon. And I left for work calmly.

We had a radio at home. They listened to Stalin’s speech, who said that we would win. We believed this so much that we didn’t even consider evacuation. My sister left home, and Mama and I didn’t even think of moving away.

My mother remembered World War I, when she saw Germans. She said Germans were very polite and didn’t hurt anybody. Numerous Ukrainian gangs during the Civil War were much worse. We didn’t know about the brutality of fascists or that they were exterminating Jews.

There were no arrangements for evacuation in Chernevtsy, and people were taking their chances to leave on wagons or even on foot. We didn’t even take an effort to leave. My brother was short-sighted, and wasn’t recruited to the army. He stayed in Chernevtsy with his family.

Germans occupied Vinnitsa region shortly after the war began. Many of those, who had left Chernevtsy, had to come back since the region was encircled by German troops, and there was no chance to break through the encirclement. The Germans invaded Chernevtsy without a single shot, but they didn’t stay. They formed the local Ukrainian police.

All Jews were staying in their homes. Shortly afterward a group of about 100 Jews was convoyed to the Jewish ghetto in Mogilyov-Podolskiy 16 by the policemen. The rest of the Jews were told to pack clothes and food for three to four days awaiting the order about departure to the ghetto.

However, the German troops left and were replaced by Romanians. They didn’t send anybody to the ghetto: all Jews were staying in their houses. The situation was a little easier than when German troops were here. Of course, the Romanians also suppressed Jews, but not to such a great extent as the Germans.

The territory of the Vinnitsa region became the territory of Transnistria 17. There were ghettos in many villages and towns with local inmates and those, who came from Moldova 18 and Bessarabia 19. However, there was no ghetto or Jews from elsewhere in Chernevtsy. The curfew hours were established. Jews could only leave their house during the daylight and had to stay inside, when it got dark. They didn’t allow having the lights on in houses, but later it was allowed to turn on the lights, but have heavy curtains on the windows so that no light was seen from the outside.

All Jews were to have white armbands with yellow hexagonal stars on them. The order dictated that those Jews who didn’t have such armbands, were subject to execution for not following the order. However, I never had this armband on. I am a quiet and reserved person, but this order drove me so angry that I decided that I wasn’t going to obey it, even for the fear of execution I decided not to obey. I was never captured, though the local police watched us closely and they knew that I was a Jew. None of them reported on me, vice versa – they were sympathetic.

The Romanians fired all post office employees, including my brother and me. We had to earn our living, so we worked for the local farmers: weeded their fields, earth potatoes or gather their crops. Mama made plain clothes for Ukrainian peasant women: frilled skirts and blouses and also, altered old clothes for children. They paid her with food products. Money was not valued. People changed things for food at the market. At times villagers brought us a bottle of milk or a few eggs charging us nothing for this.

Occasionally we heard rumors about mass shootings of Jews in neighboring towns. Thus, in August 1942, Germans killed all Jews of the town of Yaryshev located nearby. I don’t know if there were any survivors. There were no mass shootings in our town. Of course, Romanians happened to kill people, but those were their captives, whom they captured after the curfew hours.

In general, Romanians were not as violent as Germans. They didn’t take away our radios. While Germans were in Chernevtsy they ordered the locals to submit their radios to the town hall, but this happened before they were to leave, and when the Romanians came into the town, they didn’t require following this order. There was a radio in all homes. We also had a ‘plate’-shaped radio that we often listened to. However, Mama took it to a niche and covered it with a curtain, although this was not necessary.

We followed the combat actions. In summer 1943 we got a feeling that there was a turning point in the war. The radio hardly ever announced that our troops had left a settlement, but vice versa – our army was attacking. We heard that around February 1944 our forces started advancement in Vinnitsa region. This gave us hopes.

In late March 1944 we noticed that the Romanians hardly ever came into the streets of the town – there were only policemen around. One morning we saw the Soviet tanks coming into the town. There was not a single Romanian left in the town. We didn’t even hear them leaving. The Soviet forces came into Chernevtsy quietly without shooting.

We ran out of our homes trying to come closer to soldiers, shake their hands and thank them. There was a field kitchen on the outskirts of the town inviting the locals to have boiled cereals with tinned meat that they were making.

We were so happy that we survived. Of course, we were not quite sure that the Germans wouldn’t return to Chernevtsy, but we all hoped this wouldn’t happen. And it didn’t. Our peaceful life started in late March 1944.

Shortly afterward my brother and I returned to work at the post office. Life was gradually improving. On 9th May 1945 20 we got to know about the end of the war and that Germany had capitulated. All residents of our town got together in the main square. There was an orchestra playing and people were dancing, singing and greeting each other. This was the beginning of the peaceful life, there were food products supplied to stores and we were hoping for the better.

After the war

My sister Betia and her husband moved to Vinnitsa after the war. She went to work as an accountant in the State Bank department in Vinnitsa. In 1946 Betia’s daughter Rita was born and in 1949 – her second daughter Maria was born.

I didn’t consider a marriage. I had to take care of Mama. There were no old age pensions paid at that time, and Mama had never worked in her life, she was a housewife, so she didn’t receive a work pension. I was the only breadwinner. Of course, this wouldn’t have been enough for living in a town, but in the village we quite managed.

I met my future husband, Isaac Brisman, a Jew, in Chernevtsy in 1960. He came on a long business trip from Mogilyov-Podolskiy. He worked as a postal worker. It was necessary to install cables for a new telephone station. Isaac stayed in Chernevtsy for over two years. One of my colleagues introduced him to me. We began to see each other occasionally.

Isaac was born in Mogilyov-Podolskiy in 1910. I don’t know anything about his parents. He probably told me about his family, but I can hardly remember anything. He was in communication forces at the front during the war. His wife and daughter stayed in Mogilyov-Podolskiy where they were in the ghetto. Isaac’s wife died after the war, and their daughter was raised by her relatives in Vinnitsa. Isaac could not take care of his daughter having to go on frequent business trips.

Before going home Isaac proposed to me. Of course, we didn’t have a Jewish wedding. We registered our marriage in a registry office and in the evening invited my relatives and friends to a dinner. Then Isaac left and I stayed in Chernevtsy. I couldn’t get a job in Mogilyov-Podolskiy and I didn’t want to be a housewife. Mama couldn’t move either due to her health condition.

Isaac went to work at the Kirov 21 plant of food industry machine building 17. He was a worker. He got a higher salary at the plant. His house was ruined during the war and he rented an apartment. The plant built a house for its employees. In 1966 Isaac received a one-bedroom apartment in this new house. His daughter was married and lived in Vinnitsa with her husband.

Isaac came to see me on weekends, and I visited him in Mogilyov-Podolskiy. We spent vacations together, walked a lot, went to the bank of the river. We often spent our vacations to refurbish the apartment, preserve fruit and vegetables for winter. I retired and moved into this apartment to live with my husband.

Mama died in 1962. We buried her in the Jewish cemetery in Chernevtsy, near my father’s grave. There was a Jewish funeral. My husband recited the Kaddish over her grave. 

All postwar events in the USSR – the campaign against ‘cosmopolitans’ 22, the Doctors’ Plot 23 – went past me. Yes, there were some terrible publications in newspapers, but living in our small village, we didn’t feel like getting into details. It seemed to be happening so far away – in Kiev, Moscow, while we were having a quiet life. We were sure there were no cosmopolitans in Chernevtsy. People had trust in the only doctor in Chernevtsy – a local Jewish man, who was born and grew up in the town.

I remember the day of 5th March 1953, when the radio announced that Stalin had died. I was at work. Everybody was crying, there was not one person without tears in their eyes. It was scary. We were used that everything happening in the USSR was connected to Stalin’s name and we couldn’t imagine living without him. This was the only subject of discussions. 

When Khrushchev 24 at the Twentieth Party Congress 25 denounced the cult of Stalin and spoke about the terrible things that Stalin and his associates had done, I believed it, but not to the end.

I never joined the Komsomol 26 or the Party. I believed in the ideas of communism and the Communist Party before the Twentieth Party Congress, but then it was all over. After the disappointment that the Twentieth Party Congress brought me I gave up any interest in politics. I don’t care about it now either.

We common people know nothing but what we are told, and we do not decide anything. We cannot change anything in the life of the country. So why think about it?

I had the same attitude towards perestroika 27 that Mikhail Gorbachev 28 initiated in the late 1980s. They always promised us a lot, but nothing ever came out of these promises. Each leader of the country promised a better life, but nothing changed, only got worse.

My husband and I grew up in a religious family. After the war Jews didn’t observe Jewish traditions so strictly. My husband and I didn’t go to the synagogue. After the war the synagogues in Chernevtsy and Mogilyov-Podolskiy were closed, but there were prayer houses operating instead. Isaac and I didn’t go to prayer houses either, but we celebrated Jewish holidays at home and tried to follow all rules.

On Pesach I bought matzah, and later I bought it. I cooked traditional food that Mama used to make: chicken broth with dumplings from matzah, gefilte fish and puddings. Isaac had a prayer book and he prayed at home. On Yom Kippur we fasted 24 hours. Even now I fast on Yom Kippur despite my age.

Of course, we celebrated Jewish holidays secretly. My husband and I celebrated Soviet holidays at work. At home we only celebrated the Victory Day, 9 May.

When in the 1970s numbers of Jews were moving to Israel, my husband and I didn’t consider emigration. We didn’t even discuss such a possibility. We are not fortune hunters and we’ve never been attracted by going to another country to live a different life. Many of our acquaintances left Chernevtsy and Mogilyov-Podolskiy then, but I still think that there were more staying here.

I didn’t blame those who decided to leave. It’s their own business. If a person decides something, it’s better not to interfere with him. My brother and his family and my sister and her husband moved there. My sister’s daughters and their families stayed here. We occasionally wrote each other, but not often. This correspondence could do no harm to us 29 – we were pensioners, and were not members of the party. However, there wasn’t much to write about. We still correspond.

My brother’s wife has passed away. My brother lives in an elderly people’s home in Tel Aviv. My sister also moved to the elderly people’s home after her husband died. They can see each other often. They are in good care and are both happy. My brother’s children also live in Israel. They have their own families. My sister’s older daughter and her family lives in Moldova, and the younger one – in Germany. We have no contacts. 

After the breakup of the Soviet Union after perestroika Ukraine became independent and I was hoping for a better life. There are no material benefits, but the Jewish life revived in Ukraine. There is a synagogue and a Jewish community in Mogilyov-Podolskiy.

The community does much for the revival of the Jewry in Ukraine. It’s the center of the Jewish life of the town. When my husband died in 1992, the community helped me with the Jewish funeral for him. Isaac was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Mogilyov-Podolskiy. I am old, and it’s hard for me to look after the grave. The community installed a gravestone and looks after the grave.

I know that the community makes arrangements for celebrating holidays and conducting meetings, but I do not go there. It’s hard for me to leave home. Galina, a woman from the Evangelist society, helps me a lot. She lives with me and does housework. Our two pensions are sufficient for us to live on them. Galina is like family to me.

I don’t care that I am a Jew and Galina is Christian. I believe that everything done in the name of God, all good things will be appreciated by the Jewish and Christian God. People must help each other, and getting an opportunity to do good to one’s neighbor is happiness. 

Glossary:

Israel Shlifer
Kiev
Ukraine
Interviewer: Zhanna Litinskaya
Date of interview: June 2003

Israel Shlifer is a gray-haired skilful man with keen eyes. He lives alone in a two-room apartment in the very center of Kiev. He has many books placed in bookcases and on bookshelves; most of them are Russian and Soviet classics. There are two portraits on the wall: Israel’s mother and wife. He also has a collection of pictures by Feldman, a Russian watercolor painter. Israel talks with me in a friendly way. He tells me that he is not going to tell about his own life since he had a sensitive governmental position related to weapon-development and he has signed a non-disclosure document. As for his personal life, he said, it is not meant to be known by outsiders. However, he thinks, it is his duty to speak about his relatives and tell the story of a Jewish family.

My parents came from the town of Rzhishchev on the Dnieper in 70 km from Kiev. It’s a picturesque town on the Dnieper where the Legvich River flows into it. The population of Rzhishchev at the beginning of XX century was about 20 thousand people and over 12 thousand of them were Jews. Most of Jewish families resided in the central part of the town. There was a church in the central square and there was a market place open on weekends. Farmers from neighboring villages sold their products: meat, dairies, vegetables, potatoes and honey. Jews had small shops selling tools, hardware and haberdashery. Jews also had professions of tailors, shoemakers, joiners and glasscutters. There was a synagogue in the town. It was a one-storied wooden building located at the spot where the Legvich flows into the Dnieper. In general Rzhishchev was no different from dozens other Jewish towns within the Pale of Settlement [1] in the south of Russia. Nicknames were so common that often people forgot each other’s names given at birth. I liked one man’s nickname. He was Yania Papadoma. When he was returning home after his service in the tsarist army he asked some people that he met on his way, ‘Papa doma?’ (Russian: ‘Is Father at home?’) in Russian since he forgot his Yiddish a little. From then on he was called Yania Papadoma and his children and grandchildren adopted this nickname as their last name. There was Jewish, Russian, Ukrainian, Polish and German population in Rzhishchev. Germans lived in their colony and there was even an enterprise with only German employees in the town.

My father’s parents Idel and Basia Shlifer lived in the lower town that was a Jewish district. They were born in Rzhishchev in 1870s. I knew grandfather Idel when he lived in Kiev and my grandmother died long before I was born. My father and our relatives told me that grandfather Idel came from a Hasidic [2] family. One of his cousins was a rabbi of the Moscow synagogue. My grandfather was deeply religious and could interpret the Torah and the Talmud. He spent his days at the synagogue. He had a big thick beard and payes. He wore a kippah or a big black hat when it was cold. My grandmother was as religious as my grandfather. She prayed at home, went to synagogue and always wore kerchiefs: she had different kerchiefs for cold and warmer days, for wearing at home or going out. Grandmother Basia was a housewife. My grandparents had six children. My father told me that his family was poor. They lived on what the community provided. Of course, they observed Jewish traditions: followed kashrut and celebrated Saturday and Jewish holidays. Grandfather Idel tried to raise his children religious, but the Revolution of 1917 [3] changed their life. Young Jewish people from poor families got fond of communist ideas. They wanted to leave smaller towns for bigger ones. They became communists and apologists of the new communist society.

My father was the only son in the family. His oldest sister, whose name I don’t know, died in infancy. My father had four younger sisters: Esther, born in 1900, Bertha, born in 1902, Nechama, born in 1904, and Bluma, born in 1906. All girls were taught Jewish traditions and holidays and were raised to become housewives and housekeepers. In 1918 grandmother Basia died. All children accepted the Soviet power. They went to a Russian school and gave up religion as vestige of the past. In early 1920s my father’s sisters joined Komsomol [4]. Bertha, Nechama and Esther went to work at a communist construction site in Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan in Central Asia [about 3200 km from Kiev]. They lived their life there. Esther became a doctor. She got married and her children Yuliy and Sophia got a higher education. Yuliy lives in St. Petersburg and Sophia and her family moved to Israel in 1990. Bertha, affectionately called Busia at home, became an economist. Her husband Medzievich, a Jewish man, was a doctor and was at the front during the Great Patriotic War [5]. He was wounded and stayed in a frontline hospital. Their older daughter Sarra lives in Israel, Mila lives in Samarkand and their son Lyova lives in Tashkent. They also got higher education. My father’s sister Nechama was single. Esther and Bertha died in Tashkent in 1970s and Nechama died in Tashkent in 1980s. My father’s sister Bluma stayed in Rzhishchev. She became an economist in a book agency in Kiev. She died in the middle of 1980s. Her son Yuri Rentovich lives in Germany.

After my grandmother died my grandfather stayed in Rzhishchev for few years. When in the middle of 1920s struggle against religion [6] began and the synagogue in Rzhishchev was closed he moved to Kiev where he remarried and had two children: daughter Raya and son David. I had no contacts with them. My acquaintances that knew them told me that Raya lives in Germany and David lives in Tashkent. My grandfather’s family in Kiev was poor. Grandfather’s older children and my father supported them. Grandfather Idel died in 1934.

My father Iosif Shlifer was born in 1899. He received a religious education. He finished cheder and a Jewish primary school in Rzhishchev. Then he finished a Realschule [7] in Pereiaslav Khmelnitski. In early 1920s my father moved to Kiev and worked in the system of public education. He also joined the Bund [8]. It merged with the Communist Party in 1920s. My father was a devoted communist for the rest of his life. I don’t know how my parents met. I think they met through matchmakers that was a customary way in Jewish families. They got married in 1921.

My mother Reizl Polisskaya, Rosa, as she was commonly called, also came from Rzhishchev. Her father Beniamin Polisski was a wealthy man. He owned an agricultural equipment plant that he inherited from my great grandfather Gershl Polisski. The plant was on a hill and there was also my grandfather’s house where I grew up. There were Russian and Ukrainian employees at the plant. My grandfather was born in Rzhishchev in 1870. He used to joke that he was born in the same year with Lenin. My grandfather got a religious and professional education. He was good at engineering and management. I know that my grandfather had many brothers and sisters that also worked at his plant. I don’t know their names. The surname of Polisski was quite known in the area. Children of my relatives became engineers, literature critics and one became professor of cardiology in Kiev.

My grandfather and his family lived in a big brick house. There were four big rooms and a big storehouse where the family kept food stocks. There was a kitchen garden and an orchard near the house. They also kept chicken and ducks. Russian and Ukrainian employees came to take care of the garden and livestock and my grandfather repaired their agricultural equipment at his plant in return for their services. My grandfather got along well with his Russian and Ukrainian employees and customers. They rescued my grandfather’s family when in 1918 gangs [9] of ataman Zeleny [10] made a pogrom in Rzhishchev. A Ukrainian family gave my grandfather and grandmother shelter in their house. Only their son Mutsia, one of their sons, stayed at home. When bandits came to the house he treated them with self made vodka and they got drunk and left the house saying that they did not rob good people.

My mother’s family wasn’t as religious as my father’s parents. However, they observed all Jewish traditions: they followed kashrut. They also celebrated Sabbath, but it was more like tribute to tradition and an opportunity for the family to get together. In summer my grandfather and his sons had to do work on Saturday. Grandfather Beniamin prayed every day with his tallit and tefillin on. Grandmother Chaika was a housewife like all Jewish women. She also managed housemaids and employees in the house.

There were seven children in the family. My mother was the only daughter. My mother’s older brothers were married and lived in their own houses. My grandfather built houses for his sons when they were getting married. All of the sons had Jewish wives. It couldn’t have been otherwise. They had Jewish weddings with a rabbi, chuppah and klezmer musicians. I knew my uncles’ affectionate names, by which they were called in the family. The older one Elia, Ilia Polisski, was born around 1895. The next was Bozia, Chaim Moshka, born in 1897, and then came Lev, born in 1898. They were my mother’s older brothers. They finished cheder like all Jewish boys in the town. My mother’s brothers weren’t religious when I knew them. They were highly skilled craftsmen. They had no problem fixing any piece of equipment and they could work at lathe units and could do joiner work. They worked at my grandfather’s plant until early 1930s when it was liquidated after the NEP [11]. Then they went to work at state owned enterprises. During the Great Patriotic War my mother’s brothers and their families were in evacuation in Tashkent. Lev didn’t have any children. He and his wife died in the middle of 1970s. Ilia and Chaim both had a son with the name Mark. Ilia’s son became a professional in the military. He was at the front during World War II. After the war he was a foreman at a military plant in Kiev. Uncle Ilia lived with his son Mark and his family after the war. Uncle Ilia and uncle Chaim died in Kiev in the middle of 1960s. They buried at the Jewish part of the town cemetery. Mark, uncle Chaim’s son, finished a Polytechnic in Leningrad and worked at the aviation plant in Kiev. He died young of infarction.

My mother’s younger brothers Avraam (affectionately called Mutsia), born in 1902, Boruch (Boris), born in 1904, and Mendel, born in 1907, got higher education. They were at the front during the Great Patriotic War. After the war they lived in Kiev. Avraam was a foreman at the Arsenal Military Plant in Kiev and lived in a nice and big apartment. He died in the middle of the 1980s. His son Arkadi lives in Israel and his daughter Maya – in Germany. Boruch finished the Polytechnic and lived in Kiev with his wife Liya and daughter Sophia. He died a long time ago. Sophia lives in Israel. Uncle Mendel, whose common name [12] was Michael, finished a Construction College and built bridges. He got married before the war, but when his wife heard that he was severely wounded and became handicapped she left him. After the war Uncle Mendel lived with me in a small 16 square meter room that the plant where I was working gave me when I was a young promising scientist. Мendel died in 1982. He was buried near his older brothers’ graves.

My mother was born in 1900. The only daughter, she was everybody’s favorite in the family. She finished a Jewish primary school and a school for girls. She had music lessons at home. She had Karl Bluthner grand piano bought particularly for her to study music. She also had German classes with a teacher that came from the German colony [13]. In 1917 my mother moved to Kiev. She lived in grandfather Beniamin’s apartment in Nizhni Val Street in Podol [14]. Grandfather supported her. I think it was probably there where she met my father.

They got married in Rzhishchev in 1921. Although my father wasn’t religious they had a traditional Jewish wedding with a rabbi and chuppah and everything else that had to be at a Jewish wedding. After the wedding my parents went to Kiev where my father worked at the department of education and studied at the Faculty of Mathematics at the University. They lived in the apartment where my mother lived before she got married.

I was born in Kiev in 1922. It was a hard time shortly after the Civil War [15]: destitution, hunger and destruction. My father worked and studied and came home late at night. My mother and I went to Rzhishchev. I stayed there until the age of 6 and my mother returned to Kiev. She entered the Faculty of Philology at the University and I stayed with my grandfather and grandmother. My parents came to visit us on my birthday and on Soviet holidays when they didn’t have to go to work or study. I enjoyed being with my grandparents. I was their favorite. My grandmother and grandfather and numerous relatives were spoiling me. Even when I banged on my mother’s grand piano with my feet or stole my grandfather’s little boxes [tefillin] that he put on his hand and head to pray they didn’t tell me off. My mother explained to me that there were little scrolls of the Torah in those boxes and that I was not allowed to touch them. [Editor’s note: Not the whole Torah, but two passages from Deuteronomy and two from Exodus, in which Jews are required to put ’these words’ (of the Law) for ’a sign upon thy hand and a frontlet between thine eyes’ are put int he teffilin.] From then on I enjoyed watching my grandfather putting on his beautiful tallit and tefillin, taking his book of prayers and praying rocking to the sides. While doing this he kept watching workers in the yard giving directions to them every now and then. Even then it seemed to me that my grandfather was praying following the rules rather than feeling the need to pray. On Saturday my mother’s family got together to have a festive meal. Her older brothers came with their families. I do not remember my grandmother lighting candles on Friday. Perhaps, I was too young to pay attention to this. The family also celebrated Jewish holidays. The only one I remember was Chanukkah. I remember it since we got money gifts on this holiday. It was a joyful holiday, but I only learned the history of this holiday as well as other Jewish holidays recently. At the age of 6 my parents took me to Kiev where I went to kindergarten since my parents believed that a child had to get used and develop in a collective of other children.

My father finished the University and became a financial officer within the Ministry of Industry. He often traveled on job assignments to other towns and then I went to Rzhishchev since my mother followed my father. My parents traveled to many towns: Dnepropetrovsk, Dneprodzerzhinsk and Kharkov where my father held official posts.

In early 1930s the state nationalized [16] my grandfather’s plant and house. We were happy that they didn’t arrest him. My grandfather Beniamin and grandmother moved to Kiev and settled down in their apartment in Nizhni Val. My parents had their own apartment and when they had to travel to another town they left me with my grandparents. My mother’s younger brothers Avraam, Boris and Mendel lived with them. In sometime my grandfather’s plant and house were burnt down. I don’t know who or why did this. During famine in 1932 [Famine in Ukraine] [17] my uncles, grandmother and grandfather returned to Rzhishchev where they hoped it was easier to survive. They only found ashes of their big house with my mother grand piano’s frame. We moved into one of my uncles’ house. My mother’s brothers and their wives worked hard growing vegetables to feed the family. In winter we found dead people on the porch of our house. They knew how kind our family had always been and hoping to find shelter they fell asleep and died from cold and hunger. My grandmother kept her door open for starving people and shared no matter how little we had. Fortunately, all members of our family survived.

That same year my father got a job assignment to Mariupol and took me with him. From then on I lived with my parents. We often moved from one town to another and I changed schools. My first school in Kiev was Russian, then I went to a Ukrainian school in Rzhishchev and then I lost count of them. We lived in Ukrainian and Russian towns. One of them was Magnitogorsk in Siberia. I enjoyed my studies and liked all subjects.

In 1937 we moved to Kiev for good. My mother and I came first and then my father returned in a year’s time. We lived in my grandfather Beniamin’s apartment. Grandfather returned to Kiev in 1934 after the famine was over. Grandfather sold his apartment in Nizhni Val and bought a smaller one in Spasskaia Street. Grandfather worked in a joiner shop. My grandparents didn’t have much to live on. I liked to go to work with him. I liked it more than going to school. In Kiev my grandmother and grandfather celebrated Jewish holidays. One of them was Pesach. However, my grandfather stopped praying. He didn’t wear a kippah any longer and my grandmother didn’t cover her head. On some big holidays she went to synagogue. Sometimes I went to visit my paternal grandfather Idel with my grandfather Gersh. If we had to wait until grandfather Idel finished his prayer my grandfather Gersh winked at me mocking the excessive, as he saw it, religiosity of Idel. Nevertheless, grandfather Gersh treated Idel with respect and sympathy and often supported him. In early 1941 grandmother Chaia died. All relatives, even my father’s sisters from Tashkent came to her funeral. They all loved and respected my quiet grandmother that dedicated her life to her husband and children. From hospital the coffin was taken to the synagogue in Podol where a rabbi recited prayers. After the funeral Beniamin moved in with us. My mother didn’t want him to live alone. He lived with us until the Great Patriotic War.

I became a pioneer and joined Komsomol at school, but I didn’t feel like taking part in any public activities. I didn’t make friends at school. When my father received an apartment in Saksaganskogo Street I made friends with my neighbors and we were lifetime friends. There were two rooms in the apartment that my father received. There was stucco molding on high ceilings. We had neighbors: an old woman that came from a noble family that owned the house before the Revolution of 1917 and her son. My mother became her friend and often went for a cup of tea with her. My mother had a philological education and taught Russian literature and language at school and they had common subjects to discuss with this woman. I also liked listening to her. She told interesting stories about the past, about artists and poets.

At that time I got fond of poetry. My friends were intelligent boys. I learned a lot from them. At first I felt like a ‘black sheep’ with them since I came from a smaller town and my friends were more knowledgeable than I in many areas, but gradually I caught up with them. I became interested in literature and poetry. We were fond of forbidden poets for the most part. At that time all poets, but Mayakovsky [18], Yesenin [19], Gumilev [20], Mandelshtam [21], – were forbidden. We got copies of poems that we read and learned by heart. Somehow the Komsomol organization of my school got to know that we read forbidden poets. Probably one of us reported to them. My friends were called to the leaders where NKVD [22] representatives were present. Fortunately, I didn’t have to go there. They asked the boys where they got copies, but my friends answered that they just heard these poets and remembered them. The officers probably didn’t believe them, but they left them. One boy’s parents were so scared that they sent their son to Moscow for a whole year. We could understand their fear: this was the period of 1937-39 [Great Terror] [23] - arrests of ‘enemies of the people’ [24] that emerged all of a sudden from nowhere. Nobody in our family suffered during this period, but my father expected arrest every day. I don’t think he understood that Iosif Stalin himself was to blame for this outrage that took away millions of innocent lives.

The majority of my mother's relatives and some of my father’s relatives lived in Kiev. They often visited us. We met on birthdays and wedding anniversaries. We also celebrated Soviet holidays: 1st May and the October Revolution Day [25]. The adults danced to Jewish and Soviet records and sang. We didn’t celebrate Jewish holidays at home. Only once a year relatives came to celebrate Pesach with grandfather Beniamin. I didn’t attend the celebrations, and not know, as it was. I preferred my friends’ company.

My friends and I often went to theaters. One of my friends was a son of director of the Theater of the Red Army that was popular before the war. This boy often got free tickets to his father’s theater, Russian or Ukrainian Drama Theaters. Sometimes we had to stand in passageways, but this didn’t matter much to us. We were young and loved theater. We watched Ukrainian and Russian drama performances. We also went to the Jewish theater. Though some of my friends were Russian and we didn’t understand Yiddish we sat beside an old man that interpreted for us. We didn’t give much thought to nationality that actually didn’t matter to us.

In 1939 I finished school with a so-called ‘golden certificate’. There were no medals then and a golden certificate had a golden frame. I was eager to study science – physics- and went for an interview to the Leningrad College of Physics. I had a successful interview, but my mother was against my studying away from home. I obeyed her and submitted my documents to the Kiev Polytechnic College (it was called Industrial College then) to the Faculty of Radio Physics. I was admitted and studied two years in this College. My friends and I knew that fascism came to power in Europe. We saw Professor Mamlock [26] a film about Hitler’s view on Jews. Besides, we, radio physics, always listened to foreign channels. We made radios by ourselves. We had more information about the war in Europe than our newspapers published or radio broadcast. ‘The Voice of America’, ‘Svoboda’ [Freedom in Russian] and a number of other western radios broadcast in Russian, but very few could listen to them due to Soviet security agencies that jammed their programs. Only those that had special radios had an opportunity to listen to western radios. Nevertheless, we didn’t have a feeling that the war was near or that Hitler would attack the Soviet Union. Even lecturers of the Military Faculty in our College said that we had to learn to defend our country, but they never mentioned a possibility of war against fascism.

On 22 June 1941 I came to College to take an exam. All students were requested to gather in a big lecture room. We were told that the 43rd Distillery had been ruined by bombing the previous night and that the war began. Then the military registry office mobilized us to deliver the call-ups. The boards with number of buildings and names of streets were removed from houses for some reasons probably to confuse potential German spies. However, we were the ones that were confused. We had to ask pedestrians about numbers of buildings to deliver subpoenas. Some teenagers that were watchful about spies took us to a militia department. Of course, militia found out who we were in an instant.

In early July my parents moved to Kharkov where all managerial offices, including my father’s Ministry, moved. My grandfather and other relatives went to Tashkent [Uzbekistan, about 3200 km from Kiev] to my father’s sisters. My co-students and I were mobilized to Kiev Territorial Army [Fighting battalion] [27]. We excavated anti-tank trenches in the southern direction. For many years there was a lake formed where we excavated trenches. There were continuous air raids and in the middle of August I was wounded in my back with a bomb splinter. I was taken to Kharkov by a sanitary train. I found my father there. I was released from military service due to my wound. My father sent me to Tashkent. I traveled in a sanitary train for slightly wounded. Our trip lasted 10 days. We were taken to a hospital in Tashkent where I stayed another month. Then I stayed with my paternal aunts.

In late September 1941 my parents came to Tashkent too. We were glad to be together, but we were sad that fascists occupied Kiev.

My father went to work as Financial Manager at the Ministry of Light Industry and my mother became a teacher in a Russian school. My father got a good apartment and my grandfather stayed with us. My father received a special food package as a high governmental official.

In some time I went to Polytechnic to continue my studies as a third-year student. This College was formed by Kiev, Tashkent and Leningrad Colleges. By that time my mother’s brothers and their families, my father’s sister Bluma and her son and uncle Mendel that returned from the front as an invalid were living with us. There was too little space and I went to live at the students’ hostel. I received a stipend and did some work to earn additional money. Third-year students worked as electricians at food enterprises. I worked at the confectionery and my friend Tolia worked at a bakery. Girls wrote synopsis of lectures for us and we shared with them what we stole at work. We read poems and went to theaters. I liked the Moscow Jewish Theater that was in evacuation in Tashkent. I watched all performances with the legendary Mikhoels [28] playing main roles. Mikhoels greeted me when he met me in town. He probably remembered me seeing me so often at the theater.

In 1944, few months after Kiev was liberated the Kiev Polytechnic College reevacuated to Kiev. We had a choice between Central Asia, Kiev or Leningrad Colleges. I got an offer to go to Kiev. They promised me work in College. The train trip to Kiev took us almost a month, but the feeling was very different from when we were leaving the city. My parents, grandfather and uncle Mendel stayed in Tashkent. My father didn’t want to leave his high post. Kiev was in ruins. Our house was ruined, too. I stayed at a student hostel. In some time I found some of my friends. We were together again. I finished College in 1945. I was a promising employee and got an offer to write thesis in College, but there was no chance for me to get an apartment working in college. Therefore, I went to work at the military instrument manufacture plant called Communist where I became head of laboratory. I also worked part-time in College. The plant gave me a 16 square meter room in a shared apartment [26]. My grandfather Gershl and my uncle Mendel came back from Tashkent and stayed with me. My grandfather was cheerful and optimistic until his last days. He made friends among our neighbors. They were older people. They met and had long discussions on a bench near the house or having a cup of tea at home. Grandfather went to synagogue on Sabbath and Jewish holidays, but he didn’t pray at home. We didn’t follow kashrut. We were glad to have any food at all. I had meals at the canteen at my plant. I bought hot meals to take home to my grandfather and my uncle. My grandfather died in 1952 at the age of 82. We buried him at the town cemetery.

I worked at the Communist Plant several years. I had a sensitive job and often met with high officials. I met several times with the General Secretary of the Ukrainian Communist Party, Nikita Khrushchev [30] that became General Secretary of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the USSR in 1953. Those were business meetings, but I liked Khrushchev. I still know no explanation of how I kept my job when in 1949, at the height of state anti-Semitism and during the campaign against cosmopolitans [31] my father was arrested in Tashkent and sentenced under a political article of the law. My mother wrote me that he was charged of espionage for Germany and nonsense like that. I understood that my father was innocent. I knew this was a state policy against Jews, but what could I do? I knew that my management had to know about my father’s arrest, but they showed no sign of this and I pretended nothing happened. My father never told me about what he was accused of. They might have remembered his Bund membership. To tell the truth, they didn’t beat him. They used another thing: they kept him in a single cell for the first year. Then his friends managed to help him and my father was taken to a camp near Tashkent. My father actually performed the duties of chief accountant in the camp. He had a privilege: he was allowed to sleep on the sofa in his office instead of going back to the barrack. Besides, he made reports to the bank management. They spoke to him rather than calling an official chief accountant. My father went to the bank with a guard and my mother was waiting there for him with hot lunch. Then my mother moved to Kiev. My father was released in 1954, a year after Stalin died. He was exculpated from all charges.

I went to work at another plant and then changed my job again. I went to work at the New Problems in Physics Academic Institute. I often went on business trips to other plants, Navy bases and airfields. I worked with people that valued talent and work capabilities. They never asked me about my nationality. They had other things to think about. I’ve never faced anti-Semitism in my life. I heard about the Doctors’ Plot [32] by chance when I was on a business trip in Moscow. I was having lunch in the canteen of our Ministry. A colonel at a nearby table said unfolding a newspaper ‘Now they will finally deal with Jews’. I kept silent, but my companion attacked this colonel and gave him a lecture about morals, equality and fraternity of peoples in the USSR guaranteed by the Constitution. In 1953 Stalin died. On the day of his funeral I was on a short stay in Moscow traveling from a business trip from the Far North. I wore a sheepskin coat and deerskin boots. This outfit saved my friend and me when we got in a jam in Pushkin Square during the funeral. We got under a trolley bus and stayed there. Otherwise we would have been smashed by the crowd. Hundreds of people died there. Stalin’s death wasn’t a tragedy for me. I understood that Stalin was to be blamed for my father’s arrest and for the suffering of millions of people. I also knew that he must have been aware of the recent anti-Semitic campaigns. Denunciation of the cult of Stalin and the speech of Nikita Khrushchev in 1956 at the 20th Party Congress [33] were not big surprises for me. Although I wasn’t a member of the Party, we knew about this secret Khrushchev’s speech that was only to be read in Party organizations, on the first day after Congress from our friends that were communists. It was like new wind blowing in our country. Nevertheless, I still think that Stalin had a strong personality and was an unusual man. It’s a different story where he applied his strength and talent.

In 1954 I went to Moscow to pick up my father. He came to Moscow after he was released and stayed with his distant relative that was a rabbi in a synagogue in Moscow. My father was eager to go to the Mausoleum to see Stalin: imagine this devotion and faith after all he had to go through! Until the end of his days he thought that his arrest was a tragic mistake. My father said he wasn’t going home until he saw Stalin. We had to stand in a long line and my father calmed down after he saw dead Stalin.

In Kiev we lived together for some time and then my father received a two-room apartment. My mother and father moved to that apartment. My father went to work as chief accountant at the weaving mill. His arrest and stay in a single cell change my father dramatically. A cheerful man that he was changed to a withdrawn and despondent man. He began to pray. He didn’t pray in the Jewish manner. I don’t think he had a tallit or knew any prayers. He said his own prayers and prayed to his god that he got to know when he was in his cell. Sometimes he went to synagogue, but he didn’t pray there. He just sat there quietly. In 1960s my father got severely ill. He had lymphogranulomatosis that was incurable. He consulted doctors in Kiev and Moscow, but they offered no cure. My father died in 1970. My mother lived many years longer. She died in 1986. Uncle Mendel that lived with me died in 1982.

I cannot talk about my work. My achievements are highly sensitive. Besides, I shall not boast. In early 1950s I defended my candidate dissertation [doctorate]. I was awarded the title of doctor for my scientific achievements. I dedicated my life to my work, although I don’t think I am a scientist, rather just an engineer. I have my achievements and saw the results of my work applied. I have many patents for development that were implemented in industries.

I was a bachelor for many years. Of course, I wasn’t ascetic, but I got married at the age of 45. I married my friend’s sister Alla Bialik, a Jew. Alla is much younger than me. She was born in 1937. Her parents came from Rzhishchev. They were intelligent people. They didn’t observe any Jewish traditions. Alla’s father Wolf Bialik was a distant relative of Chaim Nachman Bialik [34], one of the greatest Jewish poets. There were literary and theatrical critics and doctors in Alla’s family. During the Great Patriotic War Alla and her parents were in evacuation somewhere in the Ural. After the war they returned to Kiev where she finished secondary school and the Kiev College of Economics. She worked as chemical engineer. We exchanged my small apartment into the one where I live now. We had a good life, although we didn’t have children. We got married at a respected age and we just shared the warmth of our souls. I earned well and we could afford to spend vacations at the best recreation homes in the country. We went to concerts and theaters. We also had a dacha [cottage], but we had to sell it since doctors didn’t allow me any physical strain after an eye surgery. We didn’t have a car since I could use my office car if I had such need. I’ve collected pictures of my favorite German watercolor painter, Feldman. Regretfully, Alla died of cancer in 1992. Now I am alone.

I still do some consulting at the Military Academy and write articles and books. I cannot live without work. For this reason I didn’t emigrate to Israel in or the USA where I have many relatives. Of course, I was interested in Israel as a historical motherland and the nucleus of the Jewish People. In 1960s-70s when Israel was in the state of numerous wars with the Arabs, when just the word ‘Israel’ provoked a mock and hostility of our official policy, I was for Israel like all reasonable people. I watched this country develop and wished that it gained victory. For many years I was not allowed to travel abroad due to my knowledge of state secrets. I did know many developments of weapons. Finally in 1996, when our human resource manager was on vacation, the director of my institute signed my permit to travel abroad. He had known me for many years and was sure that I was not going to share any secrets. I traveled to Israel. I liked it there, but I understood that I could only live in my country where I was born and had lived a long life.

I have a twofold attitude to perestroika [35] that changed the life of the country and its people dramatically. It’s not that I worry about the material part of life. I still work and can earn money and I receive a sufficient scientific pension, but I feel sorry for other old people tat have to lead a miserable life after they had worked for 40 years or more. I am glad that perestroika opened up opportunities for the development of national cultures, including the Jewish one, the so-called minority culture. I am also glad about democratic principles coming into our life and that the iron curtain [36] collapsed and people have got an opportunity to see the world. However, I still feel sorry for the downfall of the Soviet Union. I loved the integral country. I have many friends all over the country [the former Soviet Union]. Now there are borders and customs between us. I cannot jump on a train to go to the Baltic Republics. I need a visa and a foreign passport… I cannot accept this.

Now that independent Ukraine gave a real opportunity for the development of the Jewish cultural life I began to participate in it. I am an active member of Bnai Brith [37] I take every effort to make this organization a real hearth of Jewish culture. I celebrate Jewish holidays, go to Seder at the synagogue and read Jewish newspapers. Besides, I collect Jewish folk music and study Jewish traditions from tapes. This is all very interesting, but I’ve never concentrated on purely national attitudes. I have many Russian and Ukrainian friends. They are active in science and culture. I believe I am a citizen of the Universe and I value every human being regardless of their national origin.

GLOSSARY:

[1] Jewish Pale of Settlement: Certain provinces in the Russian Empire were designated for permanent Jewish residence and the Jewish population (apart from certain privileged families) was only allowed to live in these areas.

[2] Hasid: The follower of the Hasidic movement, a Jewish mystic movement founded in the 18th century that reacted against Talmudic learning and maintained that God’s presence was in all of one’s surroundings and that one should serve God in one’s every deed and word. The movement provided spiritual hope and uplifted the common people. There were large branches of Hasidic movements and schools throughout Eastern Europe before World War II, each following the teachings of famous scholars and thinkers. Most had their own customs, rituals and life styles. Today there are substantial Hasidic communities in New York, London, Israel and Antwerp.

[3] Russian Revolution of 1917: Revolution in which the tsarist regime was overthrown in the Russian Empire and, under Lenin, was replaced by the Bolshevik rule. The two phases of the Revolution were: February Revolution, which came about due to food and fuel shortages during WWI, and during which the tsar abdicated and a provisional government took over. The second phase took place in the form of a coup led by Lenin in October/November (October Revolution) and saw the seizure of power by the Bolsheviks.

[4] Komsomol: Communist youth political organization created in 1918. The task of the Komsomol was to spread of the ideas of communism and involve the worker and peasant youth in building the Soviet Union. The Komsomol also aimed at giving a communist upbringing by involving the worker youth in the political struggle, supplemented by theoretical education. The Komsomol was more popular than the Communist Party because with its aim of education people could accept uninitiated young proletarians, whereas party members had to have at least a minimal political qualification.

[5] Great Patriotic War: On 22nd June 1941 at 5 o’clock in the morning Nazi Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring war. This was the beginning of the so-called Great Patriotic War. The German blitzkrieg, known as Operation Barbarossa, nearly succeeded in breaking the Soviet Union in the months that followed. Caught unprepared, the Soviet forces lost whole armies and vast quantities of equipment to the German onslaught in the first weeks of the war. By November 1941 the German army had seized the Ukrainian Republic, besieged Leningrad, the Soviet Union's second largest city, and threatened Moscow itself. The war ended for the Soviet Union on 9th May 1945.

[6] Struggle against religion: The 1930s was a time of anti-religion struggle in the USSR. In those years it was not safe to go to synagogue or to church. Places of worship, statues of saints, etc. were removed; rabbis, Orthodox and Roman Catholic priests disappeared behind KGB walls.
[7] Realschule: Secondary school for boys in Russia before the revolution of 1917. Students studied mathematics, physics, natural history, foreign languages and drawing. After finishing this school they could enter higher industrial and agricultural educational institutions.
[8] Bund: The short name of the General Jewish Union of Working People in Lithuania, Poland and Russia, Bund means Union in Yiddish). The Bund was a social democratic organization representing Jewish craftsmen from the Western areas of the Russian Empire. It was founded in Vilnius in 1897. In 1906 it joined the autonomous fraction of the Russian Social Democratic Working Party and took up a Menshevist position. After the Great October Socialist Revolution the organization split: one part was anti-Soviet power, while the other remained in the Bolsheviks’ Russian Communist Party. In 1921 the Bund dissolved itself in the USSR, but continued to exist in other countries.
[9] Gangs: During the Civil War in 1918-1920 there were all kinds of gangs in the Ukraine. Their members came from all the classes of former Russia, but most of them were peasants. Their leaders used political slogans to dress their criminal acts. These gangs were anti-Soviet and anti-Semitic. They killed Jews and burnt their houses, they robbed their houses, raped women and killed children.

[10] Zeleny, one of the atamans (headmen) loosely associated with the Ukrainian nationalist military leader Simon Petlura. His real name was Danilo Trepilo. Zeleny, which means green in Russian, was the nickname he received during the days of the Hetman, since he spent time hiding in the green valleys near his village. This would remain his pseudonym. Green, the color of the fields and forests, became the symbolic color of the peasant uprisings. Zeleny appeared at the same time as Atamans Angel, Sokolovski, and Struk, but he played a much more important role than they did. He had greater organizational skills and more ambition. He surrounded himself with a larger group of rebels and spread himself over a wider territory. Ataman Grigoriev, who began the large uprising in May, strove harder than Zeleny, but his rule did not last long. He was quickly liquidated, while Zeleny’s uprising lasted from the end of March until September 1919. Zeleny was the prototypical representative of the rebel movement from the Ukrainian villages of this period.

[11] NEP: The so-called New Economic Policy of the Soviet authorities was launched by Lenin in 1921. It meant that private business was allowed on a small scale in order to save the country ruined by the October Revolution and the Civil War. They allowed priority development of private capital and entrepreneurship. The NEP was gradually abandoned in the 1920s with the introduction of the planned economy.

[12] Common name: Russified or Russian first names used by Jews in everyday life and adopted in official documents. The Russification of first names was one of the manifestations of the assimilation of Russian Jews at the turn of the 19th and 20th century. In some cases only the spelling and pronunciation of Jewish names was russified (e.g. Isaac instead of Yitskhak; Boris instead of Borukh), while in other cases traditional Jewish names were replaced by similarly sounding Russian names (e.g. Eugenia instead of Ghita; Yury for Yuda). When state anti-Semitism intensified in the USSR at the end of the 1940s, most Jewish parents stopped giving their children traditional Jewish names to avoid discrimination.

[13] German colonists: Ancestors of German peasants, who were invited by Empress Catherine II in the 18th century to settle in Russia.

[14] Podol: The lower section of Kiev. It has always been viewed as the Jewish region of Kiev. In tsarist Russia Jews were only allowed to live in Podol, which was the poorest part of the city. Before World War II 90% of the Jews of Kiev lived there.

[15] Civil War (1918-1920): The Civil War between the Reds (the Bolsheviks) and the Whites (the anti-Bolsheviks), which broke out in early 1918, ravaged Russia until 1920. The Whites represented all shades of anti-communist groups – Russian army units from World War I, led by anti-Bolshevik officers, by anti-Bolshevik volunteers and some Mensheviks and Social Revolutionaries. Several of their leaders favored setting up a military dictatorship, but few were outspoken tsarists. Atrocities were committed throughout the Civil War by both sides. The Civil War ended with Bolshevik military victory, thanks to the lack of cooperation among the various White commanders and to the reorganization of the Red forces after Trotsky became commissar for war. It was won, however, only at the price of immense sacrifice; by 1920 Russia was ruined and devastated. In 1920 industrial production was reduced to 14% and agriculture to 50% as compared to 1913.
[16] Nationalization: confiscation of private businesses or property after the revolution of 1917 in Russia.

[17] Famine in Ukraine: In 1920 a deliberate famine was introduced in the Ukraine causing the death of millions of people. It was arranged in order to suppress those protesting peasants who did not want to join the collective farms. There was another dreadful deliberate famine in 1930-1934 in the Ukraine. The authorities took away the last food products from the peasants. People were dying in the streets, whole villages became deserted. The authorities arranged this specifically to suppress the rebellious peasants who did not want to accept Soviet power and join collective farms.

[18] Vladimir Mayakovsky: Born in July 19 [July 7, Old Style], 1893, Bagdadi, Georgia, Russian Empire—died in April 14, 1930, Moscow), the leading poet of the Russian Revolution and of the early Soviet period. Mayakovsky was, in his lifetime, the most dynamic figure of the Soviet literary scene, but much of his utilitarian and topical poetry is now out of date. His predominantly lyrical poems and his technical innovations, influenced a number of Soviet poets, and outside Russia his impress has been strong, especially in the 1930s, after Stalin declared him the "best and most talented poet of our Soviet epoch."

[19] Yesenin, Sergei Aleksandrovich,1895–1925, Russian poet. Yesenin was the most popular poet of the early revolution and the object of a considerable cult. He belonged to the imagist school, advocating absolute independence for the artist. Yesenin is known for his simple lyrics about village life and the Russian landscape. His epic Pugachev (1922) is a verse tragedy concerning the peasant rebellion of 1773–75. After welcoming the revolution, he rejected the policies of the Bolshevik regime. In 1922 Yesenin married Isadora Duncan and toured the United States and Europe. After they separated he married a granddaughter of Leo Tolstoy. At 30 he committed suicide.

[20] Gumilev, Nikolay Stepanovich, born April 15, 1886 , Kronshtadt, Russia
died Aug. 24, 1921 , Petrograd [St. Petersburg] Russian poet and theorist who founded and led the Acmeist movement in Russian poetry in the years before and after World War I.

[21] Osip Mandelshtam (1891-1938) Soviet poet, who was born in Warsaw, but raised with his two brothers in the cultural milieu of St. Petersburg's bourgeois intelligentsia. In St. Petersburg, he attended both Vyacheslav Ivanov's Tower and meetings of the St. Petersburg Society of Philosophy. His first published poems appeared in August 1910. In 1933 Mandelshtam wrote a poem, which will be the cause of his arrest and, ultimately, death. The official date given on Mandelshtam's death certificate is 27th December 1938. The poem, called "We are living, not feeling the country under us" talked about the realities of Stalinist Russia.

[22] NKVD: People’s Committee of Internal Affairs; it took over from the GPU, the state security agency, in 1934.

[23] Great Terror (1934-1938): During the Great Terror, or Great Purges, which included the notorious show trials of Stalin's former Bolshevik opponents in 1936-1938 and reached its peak in 1937 and 1938, millions of innocent Soviet citizens were sent off to labor camps or killed in prison. The major targets of the Great Terror were communists. Over half of the people who were arrested were members of the party at the time of their arrest. The armed forces, the Communist Party, and the government in general were purged of all allegedly dissident persons; the victims were generally sentenced to death or to long terms of hard labor. Much of the purge was carried out in secret, and only a few cases were tried in public ‘show trials’. By the time the terror subsided in 1939, Stalin had managed to bring both the party and the public to a state of complete submission to his rule. Soviet society was so atomized and the people so fearful of reprisals that mass arrests were no longer necessary. Stalin ruled as absolute dictator of the Soviet Union until his death in March 1953.

[24] ‘Enemy of the people’: an official definition for political prisoners in the USSR.

[25] October Revolution Day: October 25 (according to the old calendar), 1917 went down in history as victory day for the Great October Socialist Revolution in Russia. This day is the most significant date in the history of the USSR. Today the anniversary is celebrated as ‘Day of Accord and Reconciliation’ on November 7.

[26] Professor Mamlock: This 1937 Soviet feature is considered the first dramatic film on the subject of Nazi anti-Semitism ever made, and the first to tell Americans that Nazis were killing Jews. Hailed in New York, and banned in Chicago, it was adapted by the German playwright Friedrich Wolf - a friend of Bertolt Brecht - from his own play, and co-directed by Herbert Rappaport, assistant to German director G.W. Pabst. The story centers on the persecution of a great German surgeon, his son’s sympathy and subsequent leadership of the underground Communists, and a rival’s sleazy tactics to expel Mamlock from his clinic.

[27] Fighting battalion: People’s volunteer corps during World War II; its soldiers patrolled towns, dug trenches and kept an eye on buildings during night bombing raids. Students often volunteered for these fighting battalions.

[28] Mikhoels, Solomon (1890-1948) (real name Vovsi): Great Soviet actor, producer, pedagogue. He worked in the Moscow State Jewish Theater (and was its art director from 1929). He directed philosophical, vivid and monumental works. Mikhoels was murdered by order of the State Security Ministry.

[29] Shared apartments: The Soviet power wanted to improve housing conditions by requisitioning ‘excess’ living space of wealthy families after the revolution of 1917. Apartments were shared by several families with each family occupying one room and sharing the kitchen, toilet and bathroom with other tenants. Because of the chronic shortage of dwelling space in towns shared apartments continued to exist for decades. Despite state programs for the construction of more houses and the liquidation of shared apartments, which began in the 1960s, shared apartments still exist today.

[30] Khrushchev, Nikita (1894-1971): Soviet communist leader. After Stalin’s death in 1953, he became first secretary of the Central Committee, in effect the head of the Communist Party of the USSR. In 1956, during the 20th Party Congress, Khrushchev took an unprecedented step and denounced Stalin and his methods. He was deposed as premier and party head in October 1964. In 1966 he was dropped from the Party's Central Committee.

[31] Campaign against ‘cosmopolitans’: The campaign against ‘cosmopolitans’, i.e. Jews, was initiated in articles in the central organs of the Communist Party in 1949. The campaign was directed primarily at the Jewish intelligentsia and it was the first public attack on Soviet Jews as Jews. ‘Cosmopolitans’ writers were accused of hating the Russian people, of supporting Zionism, etc. Many Yiddish writers as well as the leaders of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee were arrested in November 1948 on charges that they maintained ties with Zionism and with American ‘imperialism’. They were executed secretly in 1952. The anti-Semitic Doctors’ Plot was launched in January 1953. A wave of anti-Semitism spread through the USSR. Jews were removed from their positions, and rumors of an imminent mass deportation of Jews to the eastern part of the USSR began to spread. Stalin’s death in March 1953 put an end to the campaign against ‘cosmopolitans’.

[32] Doctors’ Plot: The Doctors’ Plot was an alleged conspiracy of a group of Moscow doctors to murder leading government and party officials. In January 1953, the Soviet press reported that nine doctors, six of whom were Jewish, had been arrested and confessed their guilt. As Stalin died in March 1953, the trial never took place. The official paper of the party, the Pravda, later announced that the charges against the doctors were false and their confessions obtained by torture. This case was one of the worst anti-Semitic incidents during Stalin’s reign. In his secret speech at the Twentieth Party Congress in 1956 Khrushchev stated that Stalin wanted to use the Plot to purge the top Soviet leadership.
[33] Twentieth Party Congress: At the Twentieth Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in 1956 Khrushchev publicly debunked the cult of Stalin and lifted the veil of secrecy from what had happened in the USSR during Stalin’s leadership.

[34] Bialik, Chaim Nachman: (1873-1934): One of the greatest Hebrew poets. He was also an essayist, writer, translator and editor. Born in Rady, Volhynia, Ukraine, he received a traditional education in cheder and yeshivah. His first collection of poetry appeared in 1901 in Warsaw. He established a Hebrew publishing house in Odessa, where he lived but after the 1917 revolution Bialik’s activity for Hebrew culture was viewed by the communist authorities with suspicion and the publishing house was closed. In 1921 Bialik emigrated to Germany and in 1924 to Palestine where he became a celebrated literary figure. Bialik’s poems occupy an important place in modern Israeli culture and education.

[35] Perestroika: Soviet economic and social policy of the late 1980s. Perestroika [restructuring] was the term attached to the attempts (1985–91) by Mikhail Gorbachev to transform the stagnant, inefficient command economy of the Soviet Union into a decentralized market-oriented economy. Industrial managers and local government and party officials were granted greater autonomy, and open elections were introduced in an attempt to democratise the Communist party organization. By 1991, perestroika was on the wane, and after the failed August Coup of 1991 was eclipsed by the dramatic changes in the constitution of the union.

[36] Iron curtain: Iron curtain: political, military, and ideological barrier erected by the Soviet Union after World War II to seal off itself and its dependent eastern European allies from open contact with the West and other noncommunist areas. In the USSR this was the word for the ban to travel abroad and communicate with foreigners or relatives living abroad. This ban existed in the USSR for over 50 years.

[37] Bnai Brith - the oldest Jewish charity oranization. The name means ‘sons of the Testament’ in Ivrit. Its purpose is to unite people professing Judaism and present their interests and the interests of mankind, develop spiritual and moral education of coreligionists and spread philanthropic ideas. It was founded in USA in 1843. It opened its affiliates in the former Soviet Union and in Ukraine in early 1990s. Its members are activists of science, culture and the goal of this organization is provision of assistance, but even more so - restoration of the Jewish culture, interest to Jewish history, religion, etc.

Evgeniy Kotin
Moscow
Russia
Interviewer: Ella Levitskaya
Date of Interview: January 2005

Evgeniy Kotin is of medium height, lean, young-looking man. He is willing to tell a lot about his family. After his wife’s death Evgeniy lives by himself in a two-room Khrushchevka apartment 1 in the house built in the 1960s. Evgeniy must have loved his wife very much and he enjoys talking about her. He keeps things in the apartment the way it was when his wife was alive. There are a lot of books, photographs, all kinds of knick-knacks that people usually bring from vacation.  

My family background

Growing up

During the war

After the war

Glossary

My family background

My father’s family lived in a small town Kromy, Orel province in Russia [360 km to the South-East of Moscow]. Kromy was the part of the Pale of Settlement 2 and Jews were permitted to settle there. I have never met my parental grandfather Moses Kotin, and my father I have never seen him either. Grandmother’s name was Hana-Mera. Of course, after getting married her last name was Kotinа. I do not know her maiden name nor where my grandparents were born. Grandfather was a photographer. When grandmother was single, she was a seamstress. After getting married she quit work and became a housewife like most of the married Jewish women at that time.

There were 5 people in the family. First daughters were born. The first one was Ekaterina [common name] 3, Jewish name Keizlya. Then Faina, Jewish name was Fanya, Raisa, Jewish Rohl and Liya were born. Grandmother craved for a son, and in 1895 a long-awaited son was born. It was my father. Father did not live to rejoice in his son. He died in 3 days after son was born. In accordance with the Jewish tradition the son was named after his deceased father, Moisey.

When grandmother became a widow, she moved to Orel with her children. It was a bigger city as compared to Kromy. Grandmother had to be a bread-winner and there were more opportunities in Orel. She did not get married for the second time as having five children it was problematic for her. Mother took orders and sawed linen. She was sure a good seamstress since they had a pretty good living. Of course, there was no surplus, but at least she earned enough to buy good food and decent clothes. I do not know whether sister got Jewish education, but father went to cheder at the age of 5. Grandmother must have been a very progressive woman and understood that secular education was very important and Jewish education was not enough. I do not know what pains it took my grandmother to earn money for the tuition for the lyceum. There was a Jewish lyceum in Orel, in which all children finished the full 8-year course. 

I do not remember that father told much about his childhood. I do not know how religious grandmother was. I think major Jewish holidays were marked in the family, and that was it. I guess grandmother was very tied-up with work and had hardly any spare time. Yiddish was spoken at home, but everybody including grandmother was fluent in Russian.

Upon annulment of the pale of settlement after the Revolution 4, the whole family moved to Moscow. The Soviet regime also cancelled admission quota of the Jews [Five percent quota] 5 and everybody had the chance to get higher education. The eldest sister Ekaterina and the third Raisa graduated from medical school. Ekaterina was an obstetrician in the hospital, located out of Moscow, in the town of Balashikha. Raisa worked in the hospital in Moscow. Faina graduated from agronomy faculty of Agricultural Academy and became an agronomist. The youngest sister, Liya, and my father studied at Medicine faculty of Moscow University [M. V. Lomonosov Moscow State University, the best University in the Soviet Union, also well known abroad for its high level of education and research], and became doctors. Liya was specialized in psychiatry. She was the principal physician of the children’s department of mental asylum named after Kaschenko. Father became phthisiatrician and a rontgenologist.

Ekaterina and Faina did not get married. Raisa and Liya were married to Russians. Raisa’s husband was Vasiliy, I do not remember his last name. He worked in the controls department of the State bank as an auditor. They had an only son Boris, born in 1918. Boris worked as an architect before WW2. He went through the entire war and served in the engineering troops [Engineering troops was one of the divisions of the Soviet Army. They were involved in design and building of defense and military constructions]. Then he came back to Moscow and worked as an architect. He died in early 1990s. Liya was married to Andrey Fomin. He was a very gifted man. He was the deputy director of the mental asylum, head of logistics. Liya did not change her maiden name after getting married and remained Kotinа. They did not have children. Grandmother stayed with her. She was the only one in our family who had her separate apartment; the rest lived in the communal apartments 6. Of course, Faina took grandmother in her apartment.

My mother was from the town Bendery, Bessarabia 7. Grandfather Leib Laskin was some sort of merchant. I do not remember grandmother’s name. The family was large. Out of all of them I knew only elder brother Kopl and sister Manya, who lived in Moscow. The rest had lived in Bendery, Moldova 8, all their life. As it had been Romania 9 by 1939, mother did not keep in touch with her relatives abroad 10. It was dangerous for people who lived in USSR. That was the way the family ties were broken.

My mother Basya Laskinа was born in 1893. She said when she met my father, who was younger than she, as per her request it was written in her passport that she was born in 1895. That is why the year of birth in my mother’s passport is 1895. Mother thought that wife should not be older than her husband. Her name in passport is Berta. Mother did not tell anything about her childhood and youth. I only know that she graduated from lyceum and went to Odessa 11 to study before revolution. No matter what nationality a lady was it was hard for her to acquire a higher education. Mother took courses of dentist assistants. Having finished courses she went to Moscow, where her siblings lived.

Mother’s brother Kopl Laskin was the first from the family to come to Moscow. He came there before revolution. Back at that time Jews were permitted to settle in Moscow only as per special permit of the tsarist exchequer, but it did not refer to Kopl. During WW1 he was in the army as a canoneer. Nowadays it is called firing pointer. Kopl did well at war and was awarded with St. George’s Cross 12, which was the highest award. He also got other awards. There were very few awardees of the St.George’s Cross and even fewer Jews among them. The Jews, who were awarded with St.George’s Cross were exempt from the pale of settlement and were allowed to settle whenever they wished. All they had to do was to get registered in the police department of the city they selected. Kopl found a job at some small plant and was involved in logistics. Then mother’s sister Maria moved to Moscow. First she lived with Kopl. Then she met his friend Lev Drubetskoy. Then she got married with  him and moved to his place. Lev worked as an accountant. Maria studied for a little bit and went to work as a book keeper in the housing department. They did not have children. During NEP 13 Kopl and  Lev Drubetskoy started their own business. I do not know what was their business like, or was it profitable. In the early 1920s both of them went to Palestine to start business there, but it did not work and they came back to the USSR. When NEP was winding up, they regained their previous professions Kopl was a supplier and Lev was an accountant. Things were calm before repressions [Great Terror] 14. In 1937 there was information against Lev regarding his stay abroad, in the capitalistic country. He was tried and sentenced to 10 years in Gulag 15 and 5 years in exile. He was sent to the north, to one of the camps. There were production facilities in each of the camps and the convicts were used as free manpower. First Lev was involved in general work, and when the administration found out that he was an accountant he started to work in that field in the camp. When in 1947 his 10-year sentence in the camp was over, he was allowed to choose the place for the exile. Lev wrote to Maria and both of them for some reason decided that he should move to Izhevsk, Udmurtia [1000 km to the East from Moscow]. Lev went to the exile and Maria followed him. They had stayed there for a year and a new wave of repressions had started against Jews [Campaign against ‘cosmopolitans’] 16. They lived in constant fear. Lev peaked and pined awaiting arrest. In 1949 he committed suicide. Aunt Maria went to Bendery and stayed there till the end of her days. She died in the 1960s.

After finishing studies she went to Moscow to Kopl. He lived in the communal apartment of the former tenancy of the rich people. The hosts must have been either shot or died in the camp and several families moved in a large 7-room apartment. My mother also moved in there. Uncle Kopl made arrangements for mother to move in that apartment. Our family had stayed there by the middle 1970s. The suite of rooms was detached by the doors. The doors between the rooms were nailed down. Kopl’s room was the Study of the former owner. We lived in the former drawing-room. There was a bed-room and children’s room and each of those was taken by some families. There were two bigger rooms and one smaller room ( probably for the servants) on the other side. The kitchen was huge with a big wood-stove. We remodeled it into gas stove. There was wood water heater, then geyser in the bathroom.

Kopl was married to Galina, a very beautiful Russian woman. He was her second husband. She had a son from the first marriage. In 1926 their daughter Margarita was born. During WW2 17 they were in evacuation. They came back to Moscow. When A-bombs were released by Americans in Japanese cities Hiroshima and Nagasaki [1945] Galina developed a maniacal fear for the atomic bombs. She thought Moscow to become the first target and insisted moving to another town. She chose Perm [1200 km to the East from Moscow] for some reason. She was a real civilian person and was not aware that Perm was the smithery of weapon with the largest artillery plant being located there. Perm would be more likely bombed than Moscow. There they settled on the second floor of the wooden house without conveniences.  Uncle Kopl was not young at that time, besides he had heart trouble. He had to fetch the bundles of wood and buckets of water to the second floor. He died shortly after moving to Perm. Galina died in couple of years and their daughter remained by herself. Now she lives in Perm’s and from time to time she visits us in Moscow.

My parents met in Moscow. Father was the university student and mother was a dentist assistant after moving to Moscow. I do not know exactly where they met. I assumed it was some sort of a party. Soon they got married. Neither father nor mother observed Jewish traditions, so they had an ordinary wedding – just registered their marriage in the state registration office and a family party in the evening. It was impossible to have a big wedding since the times were hard. After getting married they moved to mother’s room. After graduation father got a mandatory job assignment 18 in the town Shenkursk, Arkhangelsk oblast [800 km to the North-East from Moscow]. Mother went with him. There in 1921 my sister Rita was born. She had lived there only for 3 years. When Rita got ill, mother took her to Moscow  hoping that the doctors in the capital were better and would cure her. However, Rita died in 1924 and was buried in the Jewish cemetery. Now that cemetery does not exist. There is a hotel called Ukraine built on that place. In the year of 1924 father, who was specialized in phthisiology was transferred to tuberculosis sanatorium of Crimean city Yalta, [now the Crimea Republic, Ukraine, 900 km from Kiev]. I was born in Yalta in 1925. We had lived in Yalta for 2 years and father was offered a job in the sanatorium not far from Moscow to work as phthisiatrician and part-time rontgenologist. We came back to Moscow. Father lived in the sanatorium and mother lived with me in our room in Moscow. She came to Moscow on weekends. We spent the whole summer in the sanatorium. In 1929 my younger sister Ella was born.

Growing up

Parents spoke Russian with us, children and Yiddish between themselves. Then they wanted to conceal something from us they used to speak Yiddish. When some of mother’s siblings came over she spoke Yiddish most of the time, though both Maria and Kopl were fluent in Russian. Mother said that when her family lived in Bendery, Yiddish was spoken in her family and it was pleasure to speak the language of her childhood with her kin. When we came to grandmother Hana-Mera both of my parents spoke Yiddish with her. There was a Jewish theatre in Moscow at that time and parents attended all performances. I did not know Yiddish, so parents did not take me there. We did not mark Jewish holidays at home. When I was a child my parents and I went to grandmother Hana-Mera on major Jewish holidays. She marked Jewish holidays. I do not remember the details. I remember that on Pesach grandmother gave my mother a lot of matzhah and I liked to munch on that. I also remember that grandmother gave me money on Hanukah and I spent it on lollipops and sunflowers kernels – the tidbits of my childhood. Our family marked only soviet holidays such as  – 1 of May , 7th of November [October Revolution Day] 19, Soviet Army Day 20. Mother cooked festive food. In the morning the whole family went on the festive demonstrations. Then our kin and family friends, father’s colleagues came over to us. We danced, sang songs.

Upon return to Moscow mother enrolled on secretary’s courses. She learned typing and short-hand. Having finished courses she got the assignment to work as a secretary for the director of the tulle and lace factory. Then my sister and I went to the kindergarten by the tulle and lace factory. At that time it was deemed that children should be raised in the team. We were nurtured to get used to the team since early childhood. Propaganda of the Soviet mode of life had been spread since the child was in swaddles. I remember how our child-minder in the kindergarten often asked us a question who had the happiest childhood in the world and we used to reply in chorus- soviet children in our country. And the next question was whom should we thank for it and all of us knew the reply – comrade Stalin and our communist party. It was a congenital reflex.

Soon father was assigned the chief physician of the sanatorium and he was given separate house on the territory of the sanatorium. Grandmother spent a lot of time with father. The sanatorium was located in a thick coniferous forest. It was very beautiful. In 1932 father was transferred to Mytischi [Moscow suburb]. He had the same position – the chief physician and rontgenologist of the tuberculosis. When I turned 7, father gave me my first camera for my birthday. It was a small box, charged with a small glass plate. I went to develop the plate in an X-ray laboratory. I walked there with bated breath   not to catch tuberculosis germs.

I learned how to read and write before going to school. Father of one of the colleagues, lived in the sanatorium, where my father worked. We spent summer time there as well. He was retired and he was eager to teach us how to write and read as well as rudiments of arithmetic.  Owing to those classes I entered the second grade of Russian secondary school in the year of 1934. There were other Jewish children in my class, but no anti-Semitism was coming from children or my peers. From the very childhood we were taught that all of us were USSR citizens and people of all nationalities were equal. We truly believed in that.

Soon I was a good student, though I did not have straight excellent marks. Approximately from the 4th grade I started attending drama extracurricular class. Later on I was fond of theatre when I was a student in the institute. I was a young Octobrist 21, pioneer 22 like the rest of my classmates. I even did not admit that somebody was not willing to become a Pioneer or a Komsomol 23. Everybody joined, so did I. I was considered an activist, I took part in all school activities.  

I remembered the repressions of the middles 1930s in the USSR not only by the arrest of Lev Drubetskiy, but also by the arrest of the husband of my mother’s sister Maria. Almost every day at our classes at school we were told to paint over the portraits of the ‘peoples’ enemies’  24, including the portraits of the legendary commanders, ardent communists and militaries , whose portraits were in our textbooks. Nobody told us what was going on, neither in school nor at home. We were children and could not get how it might have happened that such famous people turned out to be peoples’ enemies and act against soviet power they had been struggling for. But at the back of my mind I understood that I should not ask my teachers about it. I just painted over the portraits and kept it out of my mind. I had not the slightest doubt in the correctness of the verdicts.

There was another recollection from childhood. Father’s sister Liya and her husband Andrey Fomin were old Bolsheviks 25, members of the communist party since 1919. Since that time they had had personal weapon- Andrey had a pistol and Liya had a browning. With the outbreak of the repressions the weapon was taken from all Bolsheviks. Probably those who were about to be arrested either shot themselves or the NKVD agents 26, who came over to take them. In spite of that old Bolsheviks had the permits for weapons and all of them momentarily were disarmed.

I remember how the entire school went to the cinema to watch anti-fascist movie Professor Mamlock 27. But I do not remember it, probably I was too small to understand that movie. I remember the event regarding the war in Spain 28, because for us it was not mere words. Orphan Spanish children were brought to Moscow from Spain. There was a sanatorium in front of our school and Spanish orphans were given a lodging there. They took them strolling every day and we were watching them. It was the first time we tried oranges, Spanish paid USSR for the weapon, ammunition and fuel. Those oranges were on offer in the store. Before that oranges were not sold and even now I associate oranges with the war in Spain.

When father was transferred to the sanatorium in Mytishi to work as a chief physician, he was offered to join the party. At that time any person who was taking a leading position, was supposed to be the member of the party. Being a doctor father was on the military register and periodically had to participate in military call. I remember when father was on the leave, he came back home with the saber on the side and a piston in the holster. Father tried his best to hide it from me. Father was conferred the title – doctor of the 3rd rank, that is the captain in accordance with nowadays classification.

During the war

During Finnish Campaign 29 our confidence that our army was invincible was slightly shattered. We could not comprehend how small Finland had been successfully resisting for such a long time. In general, we did not know for sure what was going on, there were only rumors. Father was drafted in the Finnish war as a military doctor. Father did not tell me much about the war. They were warned not to leak information. He only mentioned that his patients were with the frostbites rather than with the gunshot wounds. Our military leaders did not even think that those who were to fight in Finland required a warmer uniform. The uniform given to the militaries was not appropriate. Father has the gloomiest impressions about the war.

In 1941 I finished 7 grades. I did not want to go on with studies at a compulsory school.  I was going to enter military navy school in Moscow. It was the time when special military schools were founded- first artillery, then air force and navy. The latter was in Moscow, at Krasnoselskaya street. Parents approved of my decision. I was given my certificate in school administration and submitted my documents to the navy school. Only those students who had good and excellent marks were admitted in school.  I did not go through medical examination. When I was a child I had an eardrum inflammation and my tympanic membrane was punctured. That was the reason why medical board disqualified me. The laryngologist said that I might deafen during the artillery bursts of the battle ship. I took my documents to my previous school and we went to father to Mytischi. That was the place where I used to go on holidays. On Sunday, the 22nd of June 1941 my father, sister and I had breakfast and went for a walk in the forest. Mother and grandmother did some things about the house. We came back at lunch time and mother met us with the news about the outbreak of WW2. The next day father was drafted in the army. His task was to establish a military hospital. Germans onsurge was swift and the frightened authorities decided that the hospital was to be established in Middle Asia, in the town of Almaty, Kazakhstan [3200 km to the South-East from Moscow]. Father went there to take care of the infrastructure works. I went with him. Mother, grandmother and Ella stayed in Moscow. We were sure that the war would not last long and Germans would not be allowed to approach Moscow for sure.

There was no place for us to settle in Almaty. The entire city was teeming with evacuees from those areas, where Germans came first. Enterprises, institutions, theatres, cinemas were evacuated in Almaty. Father was offered to go to Chimkent, Kazakhstan [600 km from Almaty]. He made the agreement with the local authorities regarding deployment of the military hospital in Chimkent. There we found out that Moscow was being bombed. We were thinking of my family, which stayed in Moscow. Father left me in Chimkent, and went to Moscow to take them here. Father came back with mother and sister. Grandmother died during bombing. She was buried on the Jewish cemetery, next to my elder sister Rita.  

In Chimkent my sister and I went to the local school. We lived by the hospital. Mother worked in the hospital as a nurse’s aide. Father was tied up at work and practically did not see him. Apart from working with patients he was involved in organizational work. We did not stay there for a long time. When Germans were squeezed out from Moscow in winter of 1941, father was ordered to transfer the hospital to Voronezh [500 km to the South-West from Moscow]. We took the victory in Moscow defense as the sign of the end of war. We loaded things in the trains, reached Voronezh and settled in there. I finished the 8th grade there. I understood that we might have stuck in Voronezh by the end of war and I decided to look into vocational studies. I was interested in aviation and like to make the mini models of the existing planes. There was a large military aircraft manufacture plant and the aircraft vocational school. In summer 1942 having finished the 8th grade I supplied the documents to the aircraft manufacture vocational school. I had good marks and was admitted to the school without taking entrance exams. My school started on the 1st of September and I was supposed to be involved in farming works during the summer time. My mother and sister went with me. We took the train. At that time Germans were attacking Stalingrad via Voronezh.  When the hospital was being evacuated, father managed to find us at the train station, while we were waiting for a car heading for kolkhoz 30, whereto we were assigned to work. We came back. The equipment and wounded were loaded in the cars and we took the cart towards Stalingrad. We stopped in the town of Balashov, Saratov Oblast [600 km to the South-West from Moscow]. There were dug-out, most likely made by the militaries. We used them for the hospital. The wounded were taken from Stalingrad front [Stalingrad Battle] 31. We heard a constant clatter of bursts saw flashes from shells and mines. Soon there was a mishap with my father. He sent the car to take the medicine from the storage facilities and that car did not return.  The commissar [Political officer] 32 informed the headquarters against father and father was arrested. He was disarmed and convoyed to the headquarters, located in Balashov. The three of us left without knowing what to do. Father was tried in the martial court and sentenced to 8 years with the adjournment of the of the execution of the sentence by the end of war. Father was sent to the front lines. Father was the commander of the hospital platoon of the medical battalion. It was not a military hospital, but a medical battalion which was in the rear troops. The doctors and nurses assisted the wounded right in the battle field or not far from it. Father reached Hungary with medical battalion. He met the victory day there. Father has military such military awards as Medal for Military Merits 33 and Red Star Order 34.

We stayed by the hospital. Father was transferred to the hamlet. Now the wounded were not in the dug-outs, but in the village houses .Mother worked as a nurse’s aide and I started to work a water-carrier for the hospital. Early in the morning horse was harnessed in the cart with big barrels and I went to the river to fill those barrels up with water by using the buckets .Then I went back to the hospital and took water to the kitchen. If there was not enough water, I had to go to the river once again in the evening, when it was dark.

Father’s sister Faina took us from there. She had lived in the hamlet out of Moscow, called Tymkovo, Noginsk region. She was in charge of the seed-trial ground, where new sorts of grain were tested. Then the decision was made whether they should be cultivated in our agriculture. Via the regional party committee she made it possible to get the permit for us, the family of the front-line soldier, to come back to Moscow. We came to Moscow, but they did not let us in. We had the permit for the Noginsk district and we were accompanied by the patrol to the Kurskiy train station [There are nine main railroad stations in Moscow. The stations are named after train routes: from Yaroslavlskiy train station the trains leave in Yaroslavl direction, from Belarusskiy train station in direction to Belarussia, from Kiev rail station –to Kiev etc.] and were sent to Noginsk. I entered the local school and got a passport. We lived in Faina’s house. Mother managed to get the permit to come back to Moscow. She went to Moscow to the tulle and lace factory, where she worked before evacuation and the secretary of the party organization of the factory processed the invitation for my mother to come to Moscow.  There was a military in our apartment, but when mother showed up, he move out. Mother and Ella left for Moscow, and I stayed in Timkovo before vacation. On the 10th of March I got the draft notification from the military enlistment office.   I was turning 18 only in December, but it was the time when men were drafted by the year of birth. So men, born in 1925, were drafted in the army.

All draftees settled in the town club. We slept on the stage and on the floor. I did not finish the 9th grade but it was written in my military ID ‘education – 9 grades’. Those who finished at least 9 grades were sent to Novgorod-Volyn military infantry school, evacuated in Yaroslavl. I became the cadet of the school. The school was in the former cadet corps. We lived in the barracks.  We were allowed to go in the city only when were on duty on the military patrol. In the city we could go to the market and buy some food. We were clad in non-manual jackets with stand-up collars, worn pants and boots.  

I went to the field squadron. We were taught to handle all kinds of weapons when the divisions when would be able to take command after graduation. First we were supposed to study for 3 months, then the term was expanded for 6 months. Our troops gained the victory in Stalingrad battle. It was a turning point in the course of war. We even were sent there to yield the harvest .We pulled flax, scythed rye in kolkhoz before we got the order to leave everything and come back to school immediately. The commander of the school got an order to send all cadets of school to the front-lines as privates. We were aligned after breakfast and were told to hand in our linen, receive new uniform and off to the front lines. On the 25th of April of 1943 we took the oath. We aligned and marched to the train station singing a song. The train station was crowed with people! We could hear women wail when the train was leaving. We got to the station Loknya, not far from Old Russa and came to the forest. There was rifle regiment 247. It was supposed to be reformed. We were assigned in the gun squad and were given personal weapon. My rifle was manufactured before the war was unleashed. It was a bayonet rifle charged with nine cartridges. We carried the bayonet behind the belt. Most soldiers were armed with the rifles of the sample of the year 1893. We used them throughout the war. We were taught how to shoot from rifles at school and here we were trained how to shoot from the gun machine Maxim, a powerful weapon of the civil war 35. The gun consisted of 3 parts- the main body weighting 20 kg, the heaviest part –the carrier weighing 32 kg and the third one is the shield weighing 8 kg. There was a shell around the barrel, where water was poured for cooling. Every day we were to take our gun machines to the training area, located couple of km away from the regiment. It was possible to go there by tram, but we were not allowed to do that. We also were prohibited to carry the gun-machine on the wheels, as the latter might be spoiled on the pebble pavement. We had to carry all that stuff, moreover we had to do it swiftly in order to come back to the regiment at noon. We rolled out jackets put it on the back and part of the gun on the top of it. Apart from shooting training we also had march drilling in Staraya Russa and attacked the bounds of the hypothetical aggressor. Once we were taken to the drilling ground and were told to dig the trenches as the tanks were supposed to be there in 30 minutes. The trenches were supposed to be deep enough to lie down there otherwise people might be crushed by the tanks.  The training ground was made of trampled arid clay, but we managed to make the trenches. The tanks were over us and we were supposed to throw a training grenade in the tank. It was the idea of the supreme commander that young soldiers should have drilling with tanks not to be scared off by tanks in the battle. We had a pretty rigid training. We spent night in dugs-out.

At New Year’s Eve, on the 1st of January of 1944 we heard the alarm and were told to get up. We thought that it was another march drilling, but it turned out that we were sent to the front lines. The training was over. We were taken to Velikiye Luki, Pskov oblast [450 km to the West from Moscow], and marched towards Nevel. We reached the destination point in the evening, but we did not manage to have a respite. We had to dig the pits and throw straw there. It was our place to sleep. In the morning we were ordered to come back to Velikiye Luki. There was a paradise for us- the sanitary car with the bathroom. We took a bath and were given clean underwear. In the morning we were sent to participate in the battle at the station Nasva. All of us were given skis and we set out with ammunition. I was assigned to be second gun soldier and I was to carry a huge bag with the disks for the gun machine. We had been walking all day long. At night we were taken to the forest and were told to settle there over night. I was really thirsty and I drank water from some puddle. In the darkness I fumbled some sort of a log, put my head on it and feel asleep. In the morning I woke up and saw that it was not a log, but a defunct German. The puddle I drank from was in the lapel of the German’s jacket.

We had been waiting for the order to attack all day long and only at time we off to attack. It was my first true battle. Frankly speaking I was scared. I wanted to cower, to become small and inconspicuous. We were attacking at night. From time to time there were flashes from the bursts of shells. Germans were firing at us from the gun-machines and mortars. We were at a run hearing the commands ‘Straight forward’, then ‘lie down’ and again ‘Straight forward’. When we got up for another attack, I saw that the soldier next to me knelt and then slowly fell on the side. It was the first death I saw in the battle. Later on there were a lot of deaths, but I remembered the first one for ever.  

The attacks were periodic. We attacked squeezing Germans out and then they push us to the initial positions. I was wounded in the leg during one of such attacks. I bandaged my leg with the field dressing. The nurses were not coming. One of the wounded was toddling ahead of me and said that I should move otherwise I would freeze. I stumped to the squad somehow. The medical assistant examined my wound wrote in the ‘card of the leading edge’ saying: «blunt bullet penetrating wound in the upper third of right hip. Bullet was assumed to penetrate in the abdomen». I spent the night in the tent of the sanitary squad and in the morning I was transferred to the sanitary point, and from there to the replacement depot and finally to the hospital. I was taken to the replacement depot in a truck, which carried the defunct soldiers to the common grave. The corpses were half naked with frozen bodies. I was supposed to sit right on the cadavers. On the way to the replacement depot the cadavers were taken off the dug grave and the wounded were also picked up in put the truck.  Replacement depot was in the devastated church. There were walls, but the dome was demolished during bombing .We had to spend a night there and wait for the goods train, remodeled to carry the wounded. We got on the train and went to the rear hospital in Valdai. I was sent to take the X-ray in order to find out the place where the bullet stayed. It turned out that the bullet went tangentially and there was no need in operation. My wound was stitched and I was transferred to the hospital of the lightly wounded. I healed up pretty swiftly and was transferred to the reserve regiment. There marching squads were formed and sent to the lines. I was sent to the reserve rifle regiment 204, to the anti-tank weapon. The latter looks like a small cannon, but it is called the gun, because its caliber is 15 mm. It is so big that person would not be able to carry it. I was conferred the rank of the junior lieutenant. When the training was over I was given travel ration and was in the lines again. We went by trained somewhere and then we walked for 3 days. Finally we arrived. The officers from the regiments came over to select people. There was a captain who asked who wanted to be in reconnaissance and I said that I would like to. He looked through my documents, and took me together with two more people. We came to the separate reconnaissance squad # 87 of guards rifle division # 254. The squad even had its own banner and rear subdivisions. We positioned in the forest, then we were told to move forward to the town of Novorzheva. We settled in a hamlet. Part of the troops, positioned there went to the rear for replenishment. They were supposed to provide us with the complete reconnaissance data on the leading edge of the adversary. All squads left, but the headquarters of the regiment and the reconnoiterers, who could not leave before they had taken a captive German and receive the reconnaissance data from him. It turned out that out reconnaissance squad was not involved in anything until they left. I went reconnoitering 2-3 times and then it was calm. Since it was written in my documents that I had finished 9 grades and was well up in the maps I was sent to the squad of surveyors while our reconnaissance squad was at ease. Now it is called exploratory survey. It is conducted on the forward edge. I was given the so-called ‘blind’ maps. At night when German artillery was firing at our positions, we were to determine where the shooting was coming from, the caliber and the type of the cannons and the distance to the German positions. We were supposed to determine that aurally. Firs, I thought it was impossible, but soon I learned how to do it. We were supposed to mark the position and type of the cannons on the ‘blind’ map. We did not have our own telescope, so I was in the trench with the artillery reconnaissance. Artillery division had an artillery regiment, and every rifle regiment had an artillery squadron.  They used artillery telescopes only during shooting and survey of the forward edge of the Germans. It is strange that during firing I was not scared for myself. The fear came later on after the battle. When Germans were shooting there was only thing I feared that  Germans might hit the artillery telescope. I was focused on work and there was no place for any other emotions.   

We were supplied pretty well. We did not starve. Of course, we craved for home-made food. There was a semi-demolished house on the neutral strip. There was potato in its ceiling. We boiled that potato, and baked it in the fire. It was not a mere food for us; it reminded us of our previous peaceful times.

In July 1944 there was an attack. The artillery preparation was in the outset and our reconnaissance squad was in the second car together with the headquarters of the division. We stopped near some sort of a hamlet. Our squad was told to prepare for one of the commanders an observation point on the hill.  It meant to dig full-face trench, so a person could stand there and install the set a telescope there. It was not easy as there were no tripods. We were supposed to cut a log in the forest, fasten it to the edge of the trench, and fasten the telescope to the log.  It took us the whole night to do that. In the morning, when the regiment commander came over, I was sent to the forest to make sure that none of the cars passed. I was supposed to stop the cars, make the passengers get out from it and walk. In case somebody disobeyed I was to shoot on the wheels. I did not enjoy that considering that I had sleepless night. I was so weary that I physically could not walk to my dug-out and fell asleep right by the observation point. I woke up because I had a feeling that someone slapped my hand hard. It turned out that the fragment of shell pierced my arm. Shell makes a funnel and the fragments of mine are scattered on the land during the earth. The Germans noticed our observation point and opened mortar fire. I was pulled down right away.  I was pulled down the trench. They bandaged my arm and when the shooting was over I went to the medical battalion. The fragment was removed, the wounded was cleaned and I was sent to the hospital in Lisino, Pskov oblast. The wounded did not heal up and was suppurating. When the X-ray was made, it turned out that petty fragments remained in the wound, so it did not heal. I was to be operated once again. The surgeon removed the fragment of shell, part of the shirt sleeve and jacket sleeve, which were pulled in the wound by the fragment of shell, and sutured my wound. Finally my wound was getting better.   

I asked to discharge me from the hospital. In the end, the chief of the hospital allowed me to be discharged and treated in the medical battalion of the regiment. Our regiment re-dislocated to Latvia. I knew about that. When I was discharged from the hospital I went to the station of Autse, whereby our regiment was positioned. I was lucky to stop a truck, which carried the shells, and the drivers agreed to give me a lift in spite of the fact that he was violating the instruction not to carry passengers. I reached the place and found our regiment. I even managed to have my hair cut in the local barber shop. The reconnoiterers were not cut close to the skin like other soldiers so that they could pretend to be civilians in the event of captivity. When I came back I was supposed to come to the headquarters of the division. It turned out that the aide of the commander of headquarters on reconnaissance major Danilchenko was killed with his orderly. Our squad commander was to take his position. I reported that I came back in the lines after being recovered. I was sent to the reconnaissance squad. I regained my previous activity. I went reconnoitering. Then there was an order to send one person from the squad to attend the courses of the Komsomol organizers. They chose me for some reason, though I joined Komsomol only in 1943 in the lines. I had attended them for a month and came back to the squad with the rank of a senior sergeant. Shortly after that there was the order that the second Baltic Front was to be annulled and the military staff should be transferred to Leningrad front. The banner of our reconnaissance squad was taken to Moscow and we joined rifle guards division # 85. But is the officer’s position and I was only a senior sergeant. Shortly after that when a new commander came, I became his deputy. Our task was to push the German troops from Latvia. The battles were fierce.  Though, both we and Germans understood that the war was winding up. Germans still were resisting.  I was involved in reconnaissance as well as in the infantry battles. When the battle was on, I could not stay aloof saying that my business was done by making reconnaissance. Germans were bringing new forces, equipment and firing points. They had a lot of defense constructions there. We were attacking. We were ordered to take the village. We had stayed in the forest overnight and in the morning we were to attack in the morning. The battle was hard.  Germans hit with a constant mortar fire and we had a lot of casualties. There were mostly wounded because of flat mines. Any way we managed to liberate the village and Germans retreated. Suddenly we were ordered to come back to initial positions. It turned out that it was not the village we were supposed to fight for. We were furious – a lot of officers were killed. Only 20 people were left from our reconnaissance squad out 75. The squad commander was also killed in action. All those casualties were for some strategically unimportant village, just because somebody in the headquarters made a mistake. By the way, it was not the only case. The next morning, on the 14th of April 1945 I was sent in reconnaissance to find the access roads to the hill, we were supposed to fight for. I fulfilled the task and came back to the squad. The commander listened to my report, marked the attack routes on the map and told me to take people and start assault. There were hardly any people left- 15 men and 3 elderly nurses. They did not want to fight as it would be silly to be killed at the very end of war. We had to walk through the forest to get to the hillock. It was hard: there were saplings and Germans cut the trunks so that high stumps were left at a small distance from each other. It was impossible to crawl or to run. We could only walk. I was the first in the group. We did not know that a German sniper was up a tree, and the bullet hit me. I was lucky to stay alive and get just a dipnoous wound of the forearm. I was bandaged hastily and sent to the medical battalion after the battle. Soon the deputy political officer of the regiment came over and said that for that battle I would be awarded with the medal “For Bravery” 36. They also sent a letter to mother saying that her son was awarded with the medal “For Bravery” as well as the words of gratitude for upbringing of the  worthy defender of the Motherland.

My wound was cleansed and in a week I was sent to the reserve regiment, mortar battalion. I had stayed there for a week. Half of the day I was trained, and the rest of the day I had a spare time. We were not given weapon in the reserve regiment. Only when we were on duty to guard the regiment, we were given guns. We were supposed to return them when we were off the duty. We were not used to feel helpless and disarmed and when going to bed we did not know whether we would wake up in the morning. Suddenly at night of 8/9th of May we were woken up by shooting. We were scared that the Germans came over and all of us would be shot. We got out and saw that everybody on the meadow shooting in the air. People were shooting from guns, flare pistols, gats whatever people had. Somebody who was shooting noticed out frightened faces and cried out ‘the war is over’. We even could not believe it at once. In the morning we went to our neighbors, the squad of bombers, to look around what was going on there. We saw mechanics disarm the planes, dismantling bomb-carriers and guns. Only then we finally believed that the war was over. At noon, on the 9th of May our commander congratulated us on victory and gave us vodka to drink at lunch.

I did not felt anti-Semitism in the lines. I was an only Jew in our squad, but nobody ever accentuated on that. There were Russians, Ukrainians, Georgians, Moldavians, Tartars among my front-line friends. We even did not remember what nationality we were. There was common enemy and common duty. There were criteria of assessment of the personal characteristics of men by you. Your life often depended on those, who were close by. Nationality was not one of those criteria.

All of us were patriots in the lines. We were brought up by the Soviet regime. Party, Lenin 37, Stalin were out reality. We were aware that we struggled against fascism and gained victory owing to Stalin. Of course, we were thinking that we were young and did not ponder things over. Now I understand that if there were no Stalin’s repressions, there would be no war, or in the event of war there would be much less casualties if our commanders were those militaries who were exiled and shot in the times of Great Terror. At that time I was not prone to think that it was possible to question the actions of Stalin or the Party.

After the war

The war was over and I had to think what to do next. There was an order – if somebody had some sort of military education should be sent to military schools. So I was sent to attend front-line courses for junior lieutenants of Leningrad front. In summer we were sent to cut wood. When we came back the commander of the school said that army did not need junior lieutenants and we would be distributed to the military schools of the city of Leningrad and Leningrad command.  We were taken to Leningrad to the 1st Leningrad Red Banner Infantry School. We were supposed to take entrance exams – Russian language and Mathematics. Of course, I forgot mathematics, but my Russian was not bad. I was admitted to school. I was to start school on the 1st of September and we were sent to the camps. As a rule we had march drilling and got ready for the parade. Then military parade was cancelled in Leningrad. There was a victory parade in Moscow. In Leningrad sports parade was held at Dvortsovaya (Palace) square. We, dressed in white shorts and T-shirts, were doing PT exercises. After parade our platoon stayed in Leningrad. We were not let in the city since we were not properly dressed. Time went by. September was coming and I had to start school. In late October they read us the order of the Presidium of the Supreme Council of the USSR 38 as of 25th October saying that doctors, teachers, engineers and militaries, who had over 3 battle injuries were to be demobilized from the army. I was classified for demobilization. The commander of military school called me and asked whether I wanted to go on with my studies. I requested demobilization and on the 17th of November I was demobilized. I received the traveling documents and came back to Moscow.

Father came back from the army couple of days before I came. The sentence which was adjourned by the end of war, was cancelled by the martial court of Privolzhie command. So, father was a free man. He was immediately offered a job in the tuberculosis hospital in a small town out of Moscow, Zvenigorod. He was the deputy chief physician. Sister studied at school, mother was a housewife. First of all, I was to finish the 10th grade. There were institutions of external studies, where the demobilized from the army were prepared within three month to get the secondary education certificate. I enrolled for external studies and finished the course. We were not entitled to take final exams at the external studies institution, we were assigned to a school where we could do that. I passed the exams and got the certificate. My school friend studied at Technical Institute (former ammunition institute, and nowadays it is called Moscow Engineering and Physics Institute). The name of the school was changed, but the profile remained unchanged- weapon production. There were three departments: technological, design and physics. She talked me into entering that institute, the design faculty. The participants of war were admitted beyond the competition. I was supposed only to have the interview in mathematics. I was not admitted to the design department and I was offered to study at technological department of that institute. On the 1st of September 1946 I started school. I became an engineer- metallurgist. I had worked in that field until retirement.

I did not rank among the top students, but I was not a poor student either. Apart from studies I also was enrolled in a drama circle. In 1948 cosmopolite processes started. At that time anti-Semitism was rather conspicuous. Jewish students were expelled from the institute, and Jewish teachers were fired. There were incessant articles about cosmopolites- the activists of science or culture. Jews were baited, but fortunately our institute was untouched. There were a lot of Jews, both teachers and students, but none of them suffered. The only time we felt anti-Semitism was shortly before defending of diplomas.  During the last term more than a half of our group was transferred to the physics department. There were a lot of atom physics scientists, but there were few designers. None of the transferred was a Jew. Only Russians were chosen.  They envied us and it their job was very hazardous, not of them lived over 50 years.

I defended my diploma successfully. Nobody was given a mandatory job assignment in Moscow. I was lucky to be the third and I chose Saratov [800 km from Moscow]. Most of the assignments were in Ural and Kazakhstan.

I came to Saratov. It was an appliance building plant, evacuated to Saratov from Leningrad during the war. It remained there after war. Navigation gauges were produced there for the navy. I was assigned a foreman in the thermal department of the instrumental workshop, as it was the only shop, where the parts requiring thermal processing, were produced.  They treated me pretty well at the plant. In a year I was assigned the chief foreman. I lived in the plant hostel for engineers. It was a recently constructed log house. Married people were given separate room. I lived in one room with three engineers, who came to the plant as per mandatory job assignment.

Shortly after my arrival in Saratov, I was elected in Komsomol Committee of the plant [Komsomol units existed at all educational and industrial enterprises. They were headed by Komsomol committees involved in organizational activities]. Then I was offered to join the party. At that time party membership was very important for career, therefore I did not object. I received the recommendation of the district Komsomol committee as well as recommendations from other party members. The general meeting of the communist party members of the plant approved by candidacy, but the plant party committee did not approve me. I tried to find out what was going on, but there was no answer. I stopped looking for a response.

It was harder for me to work when I was promoted in my position. People who had worked longer than me bore grudge and started convincing the director that there was no need in chief foreman in the workshop. My position was reduced, and the position of a foreman had been already taken. I was supposed to work for three years as per mandatory job assignment, but I remained jobless. I had no right to quit job and the director was not entitle to fire me. They suggested that I should write an letter to the ministry asking to assist me. Father had some acquaintances who worked for the ministry of the armament and soon I received a letter from the ministry, where it was indicated that they did not mind my leaving the job at the plant. In 1953 I came back to Moscow. 

I was in Saratov when Stalin died in 1953. I was really grieving. I was raised with Stalin’s name; he was almost like a God to me. We went to festive demonstrations just to look at the members of the government and Stalin, who stood on mausoleum. There was no TV at that time. Everybody knew that Stalin was present at the demonstrations by 1 p.m., so people tried to get there by that time. I burst into tears when I found out about Stalin’s death.  I felt a terrible loss. I could not even imagine how I would live without him.

In some time after Stalin’s death there was tittle-tattle that repressions were unfair. Though, nobody associated Stalin with repressions, but Beriya 39. First, everybody was confounded when Khrushchev 40 denounced Stalin’s crimes at ХХ Party congress 41. First Khrushchev’s speech was secretive and it was read only at the closed party meetings. I found out about cruel things. Then rehabilitations commenced 42.There were a lot of the repressed who did not survive. Of course, exoneration meant a lot for the kin, but it was impossible to resurrect those who were killed … 

I thought that after ХХ party congress anti-Semitism would merely vanish as the term ‘peoples’ enemy’. But my expectations were not met, when I came   back to Moscow from Saratov and started looking for a job. I read all job openings, went for the interviews, but could not find a job. I was told by the HR department that I was the right person, but as soon as they read my form, wherein there was a notorious «5th line» 43 – nationality, it turned out that the position was taken. Of course, I understood that it was a pretext, but there was nothing doing about it.

Once when I was on the brink of despair, I passed by one-storied building and saw the announcement on job opening of the engineer- heat-treated. Now the institute is called Central Institute of Machine Building, at that time it was Scientific Research Institute of Defense Industry. I came to the HR department without any hope and said that I would like to work there. I had the documents on me. In spite of my expectations the head of HR department asked the director of the department to come in. A typical Jew, whose last name was Regeler. He looked at my diploma and told me that I could start the next day. It turned out that not only in my department, but the entire institute was full of Jews. There were more Jews than Russians. That year I was admitted in the party. I had worked in the institute for 13 years. Then in 1966 the elderly retired and the management changed, so I had to come across anti-Semitism once again. Without any grounds I was transferred from the position of the leading engineer to the position of the chief engineer. It was a lower position and much lower salary. I decided to change my job. I was known as an expert and had quite a few publications. I addressed to one of the institute and filled in the form there, but I was not scheduled the interview. Finally, my acquaintance, director of the department at the Institute of Steel and Alloys, also by the ministry of defense industry, offered me a job there but with a lower salary. I agreed to it. Gradually I got a pay rise and my salary was even higher than at a previous job.  

I met my future wife when I worked at the institute of defense industry. Tatiana Shamrai got a mandatory job assignment after graduation from Higher Technical School named after Bauman, the so-called Bauman institute [Moscow High Technical School named after renowned revolutionary Nikolay Bauman, today it is called Technical Institute] to work as appliances designer. Tatiana is Russian. She was born in the village of Starinki, Kaluga oblast [250 km from Moscow] in 1931. Her father Mikhail Shamrai was a farmer and mother Praskovia Shamrai  was a housewife, and also helped her husband with the field work. There were five children in the family. The eldest son was Peter. There were also Ivan and daughters Anna and Maria, born in 1926. Tatiana was the youngest one. With the outset of collectivization 44 the family moved to Moscow. Father worked as a janitor and mother worked at Caoutchouc plant in the most hazardous plant- where degreasing of metallic constructions in cyanic solutions took place. It was a hard living, but two daughters Anna and Tatiana got higher education. Tatiana was really gifted. She, a village girl, finished school with gold medal  [Editor’s note: the golden medal was the highest distinction in USSR secondary schools. A student was supposed to have straight excellent marks (100%) to get the golden medal. A student was supposed to have 90% of excellent marks to get silver medal. ], entered the institute named after Bauman and brilliantly graduated from it. She was loved by everybody at work. When we met, soon I understood that she was the one for me: a clever and healthy village girl. We got married in 1961. My parents were not against that my wife was Russian. Nationality was not important for them. We had a common wedding: got registered in the state registration office and in the evening our friends came over to mark the event. I moved in Tatiana’s place. She had a small room in the communal apartment. Her siblings were married off and lived separately. Tatiana’s father died, and her mother lived with her elder sister Anna. By the way, Anna was also married to a Jew, my friend Vladimir Tarskiy.  In 1962 our son Pavel was born. Tatiana’s sister Maria was not married, but she gave birth to a son in 1960. Maria died from cancer and her son was raised in our family. When Pavel turned 3, we got a separate 2-room apartment.

When I left the institute Tatiana had worked there for several years. Then she changed her job and went to work for the Institute of Current Sources as engineer- designer of solar batteries. Tatiana managed to become a good expert and she was appreciated at work. The leading expert of the institute was a well-know scientist Korolev 45, who liked Tatiana and took her opinion into account.

In the 1970s mass immigration to Israel started. I was not going to leave USSR. I did not know neither the language nor the customs and traditions. I was not religious either. I did not think it would be better for me in Israel than here. I did not judge those who were leaving and I tried to support them.   

We marked all soviet holidays at work. It was mandatory to attend the demonstrations on the 1st of May and 7th of November. First people got days off for participation in demonstrations and people were willing to go there. Then it was cancelled and people were made to attend demonstrations. Each department was told how many people should be present and people were responsible for the presence of the representatives of the department on the demonstration. We had a feast at work after demonstration, and a concert afterwards. On Victory day 46 veterans were honored. It was the only day throughout a year when I put my awards on. At home we also marked holidays, but apart from New Year’s day and victory day, they were just ordinary days-off when we could invite guests over and have fun.

Having finished school my son entered Bauman institute, the Technological –Physical Metallurgy department. After graduation he worked in one of the machine building design institutes in Moscow. After perestroika 47, which brought unemployment, Pavel got a new specialty –a programmer. Since that time he had worked for a firm as a programmer. Son married a Russian girl, Alexander Gonchrova. They are a good family. They have two children. The elder Elizaveta was born in 1995, and son Nikolvay  – in 1997. We keep in touch. My son and his family come over to us. Unfortunately it takes them more than 2 hours to get to us, that is why we do not see each as often as we wished. 

My sister entered Moscow Geologic Exploration Institute, Mineral Waters Faculty. Geology is not a proper profession for a woman, it is rather hard, but Ella liked it. She was involved in exploration of mineral waters and was the head of exploration department in balneology institute. She was on multiple expeditions. Ella was married to her fellow student, Russian guy Yuri Romanov, when they were in the graduate year. In 1954their son Alexander was born and in 1960 son Mikhail. Unfortunately, the elder son was a sick man and was afflicted with epilepsy since childhood. He finished the music school, violin department, but he could not work. He lived with the parents and got the dole for the disabled. The younger went to work at the plant after the army, got married. Now he has two children. He works in advertisement business.

Parents lived by themselves. They were dependable. Ella exchanged her apartment for a bigger one in late 1970s. They settled in Biryulevo, the outskirt of Moscow. It was very far from our previous place. Probably they should not move. Mother died in 1980, and father died in a half a yea. We buried them on the common cemetery. The funeral was secular as none of the parents was religious. 

When Mikhail Gorbachev 48 declared about perestroika, I took it with enthusiasm. There were new opportunities and rights that we were deprived of previously during the soviet regime. Now there was liberty of meetings, liberty of word and publications. There was no more struggle against religion 49, which was so rigid during soviet regime. Censorship of press was abolished. We had the chance to get the true coverage of the events in our country not from the western radio stations, but also from soviet news-paper and TV news. We learned many new things about Stalin’s times. Anti-Semitism was waning. All kinds of Jewish communities were emerging. The word ‘Jew’ was pronounced openly, not surreptitiously. There was no iron curtain 50, having severed us from the rest of the world. We got the opportunity to gо abroad and invite foreigners over. There was no need in concealing that we had relatives abroad. All those new things made us happy.  Then gradually things calmed down and perestroika was in the crescent. At one of the party congress during the reign of Gorbachev there was an amendment in the party statute regarding the voluntary exit from the party. Things were topsy-turvy in the party at that time. District committees were not doing their work with the primary organization. Previously there were plans and political classes. After that, sessions all activities stopped. Party activists minded only their own business. Our secretary of party organization found a job at some firm. After that I wrote a letter saying that the leaders were not managing things, there was no understanding what to do, what was the general course of the party. That is why I think that there was no use for me to stay in the party. So I left the party. Then, after breakup of the USSR [1991], there were many people who left the party.

I think the breakup of the Soviet Union to be a mistake. Before that all republics were together and productions were interconnected. Such integration was very propitious for the economy. And now things are in the wane, when each of the republics is independent. Besides, the newly founded states lack qualified personnel- engineers and scientists. They do not have their own and have to invite the experts from abroad.  Things created with the combined efforts are now pulled by new states. New Russia built a lot in other republics, and now it is bereft of its property. Besides human relationships are affected as well as they are now living in different countries. It is hard to come to Baltic countries, Ukraine, where friends are living. I think USSR could have been reorganized  to remain a big and powerful country, the way it has always been during the soviet regime.

I retired on the 1st of January 1992. I did not want to resume work. I was on business trips so many times that I just wanted to stay home with my wife. We went for a walk, attended cinema and theatres, discusses the books we read.  We did not have time for that before. I do not take part in the social Jewish communities. When I was a school student, I was involved in social work even in extracurricular time. Now, I want peace. In April 2004 my wife died. I remained by myself. Of course I want somebody to talk to and there are my friends and kin for that.

Glossary

St. Petersburg 
Russia 
Interviewer: Sofia Shifrina 
Date of interview: November 2004 

Sofia Ayzikovna Furman is a very amiable, agreeable person without any pomp.

My general impression from our meeting was very light and joyful, though we talked about hard and even tragic times in her family life. 

Her neat, light and sunny apartment, where she lives alone, adds to this pleasant impression. 

Her son often visits her.

Sofia Furman was prepared for our meeting very seriously – she had written down all dates, names and events, which had any relation to the history of her family – in order to miss or forget nothing. Her librarian background was evident. 

• My family background
• Growing up
• During the War
• After the War
• Marriage, children and later life
• Glossary

• My family background

My name is Sofia Furman; I was born on 21st June 1935 in Leningrad [today St. Petersburg], into the family of a professional soldier, though my parents came from Belarus. 

My father’s father, Mendel Zalmanovich Furman, was born probably at the beginning of the 1870s and lived in Belarus. From 1931-1935 my grandfather worked in the ‘Komintern’ kolkhoz 1 as an accountant. I don’t know exactly when he was born, and he died during the siege of Leningrad in 1942 2. Since 1934 he lived in Leningrad, on Vassilyevsky Island and being already elderly, he depended upon his children. He had four children: sons Ayzik – my father – Efim and Mikhail and the younger daughter Bassya, who was adopted by my maternal grandfather’s family. Mendel settled on Vassilyevsky Island, one of the oldest Petersburg districts, a big island in the mouth of the Neva River; in the 1920s-1930s there was a sort of a ‘Jewish center’ of the city.

I remember Grandfather’s apartment on Vassilyevsky Island. Grandfather Mendel had only one big room in that apartment, but it was always full of people. Grandfather, my father Ayzik and his brother Efim lived in it. When my parents got married, they lived in that room too for some time. I also lived there for the first two years of my life [1935-1937]. Since I was very small, I remember that room only sketchily. There was a big wooden plank bed to the left of the entrance, on which one slept at night and sat at daytime. I always played on it. There was either a stove or a fireplace behind the bed. There was also a table and a wardrobe and no other furniture. Right opposite the entrance there was a huge window. I also remember that the ceiling in the room was very high. Beside Grandfather’s room there were two or three other rooms in that apartment, where the families of our neighbors lived 3. All doors to the rooms led to a wide but not long corridor. Our door was the first to the left in the corridor. The common kitchen was to the right of the entrance to the apartment. Recently my son Mikhail visited that apartment. He said that it had changed a lot after modernization.

Ayzik Mendelevich Furman, my father, was born in 1909 in Belarus. Until 1929 he lived in the village of Verkudy in Belarus [40 km north of Lepel, Vitebsk region – at present it doesn’t exist], two years he studied at a Jewish school, later he lived for a while in the village of Ulla – he worked there in a fishing cooperative association. His younger brother Mikhail worked there too, he also perished in Belarus during the war. In the 1930s my father came to Leningrad. In October 1931 he was drafted into the army. He kept studying all the time, finished military signalmen courses in the army and was involved in political studies based on the politprosvet 4 system. As a result Father stayed in the army as a staff officer and a signalman and was in command of a special communication company. He even mastered parachute jumping and participated in demonstrations of parachute jumping. He was one of the first who was parachuting over our city.

As a professional soldier he served in Osinovaya Roscha [suburb of Leningrad] in a signal battalion. He was a political adviser to the battalion commander, participated in the war with Finland 5 and was awarded the order of [the Combat] Red Banner 6 for this military campaign, I have a photo of him with it. He perished in 1941 – approximately in September – his last letter was dated from August 1941. He was killed at the front, in the battle of Leningrad.

The second son of my grandfather Mendel was Efim Furman, born in 1893. At the end of the 1920s he came to Leningrad, worked at the ‘Hydraulics’ factory, he graduated from an institute and before the war worked in Estonia 7. At the beginning of the war 8, during evacuation of ships from Tallinn, their ship was taken down, and Efim perished, but there was no official information about his death. I only know that he was married, his wife most probably also died in the war, and they had no children. I have a photograph showing Efim together with his friends.

The person in the center of the photo – our countryman visited my aunts Ghita and Zita after the end of the war – he was a member of the initiative group, which collected money for the monument [later it was erected in Kamyen on the grave of Jews executed by shooting]. All his family was also shot there. And I remember him very well; I only don’t remember his name and surname. He went through the war and after it he wanted very much to immortalize the memory of the murdered Jews, notwithstanding the general attitude to Jews that time. And he succeeded: at present this monument stands on the place of execution.

My father’s mother, my grandmother, married Mendel Zalmanovich, gave birth to four children and died, when the youngest child was one-and-a-half years old. She died in 1915, and unfortunately I don’t know her name. All her sons – three of them – perished during the war, including my daddy, and the youngest child – the girl [Bassya Furman] survived the war. 

Grandfather Mendel had no other women in his family and he didn’t remarry, so he gave Bassya to the family of his wife’s brother – my mother’s father. In that family there were many girls and Bassya was brought up with them, they considered her to be their daughter [it was the family of Avraham Shukhman]. Bassya got married before the war. When Bassya Furman got married, she changed her surname to Vassilevskaya – she was the wife of Uncle Mikhail Vassilevsky. Uncle Mikhail survived the war; he visited us after the end of the war. He died approximately ten years ago.

And when the war broke out and Germans attacked the territory of Belarus, Bassya managed to escape. Together with her children – two sons and a daughter – she ran away right before the Germans came, and they reached Gorky region. We were also evacuated there. After liberation of Belarus, she went back and worked in Vitebsk district as a teacher at an elementary school. She gave birth to five children – three sons: Valery, Vladimir and Viktor and two daughters: Larissa and Svetlana; they all are alive to date. Her daughters followed in their mother’s footsteps and became teachers. 

Her elder daughter Larissa was born in 1937. She lives in Minsk [today capital of Belarus] now and we are great friends. She married a former army officer. Larissa worked as a teacher of biology all her life. Now, as a pensioner, she continues to work and took a job in a company which sells oriental herbs. She has two children, Oksana and Andrey, who also have children already. Oksana is a manager at a plant. As far as I know, she has a son. Andrey served in the army and now works as a communication engineer.   

Svetlana started to work as a teacher at an elementary school and later continued as a teacher of biology in a boarding school for children sick with tuberculosis – near Vitebsk, in a village called Bolshiye Lettsy. They still live there. Svetlana’s husband is also a teacher, he teaches history at the same boarding school.

The younger son, Viktor, worked at the ‘Hydraulics’ factory as an engineer, later he finished a pilot school, served in Transbaikalia [Russian Far East], and retired on a pension in the rank of colonel. All children of Bassya Vassilevskaya live in Belarus.

My mother’s father, Avraham Shukhman, was born in 1876, and on 17th September 1941 in the shtetl of Kamyen [Vitebsk region, Lepel district] Fascists shot all the Jewish population including my grandfather. Now on this place there is a monument in honor of 177 Jews shot by the Germans. They said that my grandfather had a large house, he was a partisans’ messenger during the war and they used his house as a safe house. The Germans arrested him and tortured him terribly. They said, the Germans had torn out hair from his long beard and then shot him. He didn’t leave the village before the occupation as Bassya did – probably he was too old by that time. 

Before World War II my grandfather was an excellent shoemaker. I know that he worked in a co-operative and he was doing well. He had many [seven] children. They kept chickens, four cows and geese too. Every child had his own responsibility: one took care of the cows, the other took care of the geese and turkeys. There were no assistants except for the children. The elder children helped to bring up the small ones. Avraham’s wife [Mikhlya Shukhman] died during the intervention, during the Polish invasion. [In April 1920 Poland entered the war against Soviet Russia.

In 1921 according to peace negotiations in Riga, Poland received a significant part of Ukraine and Belarus. The final event of the war was a defeat of the interventionists.] I don’t know the year of her birth, and neither do my cousins. She died in 1919 of typhus. My mom told me that she cried a lot, but nobody could help her. They were hiding from Poles and from intervention. At that time Germans and Poles came there in turns. All of them plundered their place, and nobody could help.

My grandmother died, when my mom was nine years old, and her younger brother was six. My mom was the next to last child in my grandfather’s family. My grandparents spoke only Yiddish. Grandmother Mikhlya was the last person in our family who spoke only Yiddish, all the rest knew Russian. Grandfather didn’t get married for a second time: he loved his children very much and devoted his life to them.

• Growing up

My grandfather Avraham Shukhman was very religious. I remember 21st June 1941 – it was my birthday – I was born in 1935, hence in 1941 I was going to be six years old – it was Saturday. And all our relatives gathered at our place to celebrate my birthday on Sunday, the 22nd of June 1941 – the day when the war broke out. All our relatives came. At that time we lived in Osinovaya Roscha [suburb of St. Petersburg], my daddy served there in a military camp. My two grandfathers came too.

One of them – Avraham – underwent surgery a short time before; I remember very distinctly that his hand and shoulder were bandaged. I remember him eating. My mom prepared kosher food especially for him: staying in hospital, he didn’t eat hospital meals, his daughters brought him food especially. Mom told me that in Belarus [Kamyen shtetl] there was a synagogue near his house, and my grandfather used to be a synagogue warden. On holidays he invited everybody to visit his place – it means that they were rather well-to-do, because he had a lot of children and everyone in his family worked. My grandfather was a very hardworking person.

My birthday was celebrated by all our relatives. All our relatives came from Belarus and other places. We all gathered round the festive table. I had a separate children’s table, where I was sitting together with my cousin. I remember my both grandfathers and my aunts on that day – my grandmothers had already passed away by that time. But we were all very much worried after the information we had heard on the radio about Germany’s attack. Father was summoned to his military unit right from the celebration. Next day all our guests left for their homes, all around the country. Almost all of those, who went home to Belarus, perished. The Germans burnt and shot everyone.  

My first aunt was Lubov, my mom’s sister. Her surname after marriage was Nemtsova. She was born in 1895 and died in 1955. Lubov with her family and grandfather Abram [Avraham] lived in Belarus, in Kamyen. They had three children: sons Mikhail and Zinovy and daughter Sofia. Lubov’s husband, Samuil, was a men’s tailor. I remember how Mother told us that Grandfather accepted him into the family and she helped him to sew. He taught her the tailor’s trade. Later it was her profession, which allowed her to earn money. When in 1941 the Germans approached Kamyen, Aunt Lubov escaped with her children. She simply took them and ran. She arrived in Gorky region, where we were already living. Her husband Samuil was at the front and died right after the end of the war. She spoke poor Russian, mainly Yiddish.

I remember Efim Shukhman, my mom’s eldest brother. He was the first to move to Leningrad at the end of 1920. He worked as a shoemaker in a co-operative in Leningrad, and he was a very good shoemaker. It was Efim who contributed greatly to the subsequent moving of his sisters and younger brother Naum to Leningrad. He perished at Nevsky Pyatachok on the approaches to Leningrad on 15th January 1943. [Nevskaya Dubrovka is a settlement on the right bank of the Neva river, where the troops of the Leningrad front twice (in September 1941 and in September 1942) forced a crossing over the Neva river and captured the beach-head on its left bank (the so-called Nevsky Pyatachok, meaning ‘a very small plot of land near the Neva river’). They held their positions for about 400 days and participated in bloody battles.] I still keep the notification about his death. He served as a sniper.

After Daddy’s death, my mom received only one letter from Efim, where he consoled her. He wrote that she shouldn’t be afraid, because he would be helping her – she was his beloved little sister. It was he who gave the money for her wedding. Uncle Efim loved my mother very much, she was his favorite. She was the youngest and he was the eldest in the family. Uncle Efim sent my mother a parcel with food products and wrote a note saying that he would never leave her and help her to bring up her children. Mother wrote a reply to Efim, but soon we received a notification about his death. Thus Mother was left alone without any support. Uncle Efim is included in the electronic Memory Book [Terminal of the Electronic Memory Book can be found inside the Monument of Victory (it is a branch of the City Historical Museum) in St. Petersburg. Everyone, who perished during the battles of Leningrad, was put into the electronic data base. And everyone can come there, name a lost person and get a printed document. Sofia Furman has this sort of document regarding Efim, who perished near the Sinyavinskye Vysoty, in Tartolovo settlement]. Grandfather Mendel, who starved to death in besieged Leningrad in the winter of 1941-1942, is also included in that Book.

My mom had another sister, Sofia Shukhman, but I know very little about her. I only know that she died on the day of her wedding. Mikhlya Shukhman – the wife of Avraham Shukhman – the mother of all these children had died early, in 1919. Her eldest daughter Lubov got married even earlier, and Sofia took care of all the younger children; she was a mother to them. Preparing to marry, Sofia felt very anxious about her younger sisters and brother – who would take care of them? She was thinking it over all the time: how would they manage without her? They all were little at that time, and she suffered from heart disease. Therefore on the day of her wedding she died, I don’t know the details. I was named in her honor.

My mother’s youngest brother was Naum; I have a photo of him taken before the war. During the war he was a pilot. Their squadron flew to bomb Berlin during the war. After the end of the war he served in the Far East – Kamchatka and Sakhalin – of the USSR.

Rita Shukhman was a disabled child. She had difficulties moving her hand and leg; she received medical treatment and lived here in Leningrad on Lermontovsky Prospect. Her sister Zlata Shukhman – everybody called her Zinaida – lived with her.

My mother Rosa Furman [nee Shukhman] was the sixth child, as Naum was the youngest. My mom died in 2000, and she was one month younger than 90. During the last eight years of her life she was bed-ridden – she couldn’t walk.

The story of my parents’ acquaintance was very simple. Actually, they were related to each other. Avraham Shukhman, my mother’s father, had a sister, who was the wife of Mendel [Furman] and the mother of my father. That means my father’s mother was a sister of Avraham Shukhman, my mother’s father. As a girl, she – my father’s mother – also was Shukhman. They also became related the following way: Bassya, my father’s sister, was brought up in the family of my mother’s father. And certainly, brothers often visited their sister Bassya in that family, they all were like relatives. And so my father, visiting his sister Bassya, fell in love with my mom, and so did my mom; and their relatives couldn’t dissuade them from this. So against all dissuasions, they decided to get married. By that time my daddy was already a professional soldier, and they went to Belarus to get married. I keep their marriage certificate. It happened in 1934, and I was born in 1935. I don’t know if they had a real Jewish wedding or if the wedding was secular. As far as I remember, my parents weren’t religious and didn’t stick to Jewish traditions. In the 1930s the traditional way of life became history 9, especially in families of Red Army commanders.

Before her marriage, Mother worked as a seamstress and after her marriage Father made her stay at home, because the salary of an officer allowed it. Father served in Levashevo [a village in the northern suburbs of Leningrad] at that time. Mother had only elementary education and finished seamstress courses, but being the wife of a commander, she was considered a ‘woman-commander’ in the military unit. She was involved in public affairs and was always busy. I remember how they often left me alone when I was small, and I even remember how I cried. They locked me in my room, I cried for some time and fell asleep.

Having got married, my parents lived in Osinovaya Roscha. We lived there happily. There were four of us: my mother and father, my brother Mikhail, who was born on 20th December 1939, and I. We moved to Osinovaya Roscha almost before the others, the military camp was under construction at that time, and the house was still damp, when we moved in. Our family occupied two rooms in one of the apartments. There was also a small room near the kitchen, where Father’s aide-de-camp lived. We also had two neighbors, also military men, but I know nothing about them. And in this house we lived until 1941, when the war broke out.

• During the War

When the war broke out, Father left for the frontline with his unit on the first day. His unit was already mobilized and left Osinovaya Roscha. They moved towards the border with Finland which fought against the USSR together with Germany. We stayed in Leningrad, in Osinovaya Roscha. In July 1941 my father’s unit was transferred from one location to another and Father managed to visit us together with his privates. People were already being evacuated from Leningrad. The Germans were quite close to the city at that time and the last trains were leaving. Father managed to evacuate us to the Gorky region [region in the basin of the Volga river with a center in the town of Gorky, 1,000 km south-east of Leningrad], where his aide-de-camp’s mother lived.

We left for evacuation in July by the last train, on our way Germans destroyed the train by bombing at some station. I remember my mom getting over the rails. My mom took care of me – at that time I was six years old – my little brother, and she also took the daughter of her sister Zinaida [Zlata] with her, because Zinaida worked at a secret factory and they hadn’t permitted her to leave Leningrad. So Zinaida entrusted my mom with her daughter, who was five months older than me. Her name was Inna Nikitina. So my mom with three children left Leningrad by a freight train. The process of our departure was frightful – it is engraved in my memory. Probably, we better remember the terrible moments of our life. I remember how we got into the car through the windows, there were a lot of people, the station was overcrowded, and soldiers stood between plank beds and lifted us over through the windows. Daddy forwarded some luggage to us, but it was lost somewhere. I still keep his last letter, which he sent us from the frontline, in which he wrote that he was worried about us, because we had left without any belongings and without warm clothes. We had only one suitcase with us, where we found nothing at all. So we appeared in Gorky region hungry and undressed, and we had to get settled somehow.

We came to the relatives of my father’s adjutant near the village of Vad in Gorky region. But that place seemed to my mom to be very much out of the way, because there was no place to live and she couldn’t get a job. We couldn’t even understand the dialect people spoke! They added the word ‘chai’ [Russian for ‘probably’] after almost each word, when they said something, ‘Would you probably go there? Or would you probably not?’ I remember how Mother laughed after the war, sometimes saying, ‘Would you probably go there?’ There were few people there. Only an elementary school was available. Then Mom got registered at the local military enlistment office, and the local commander sent us to Vad – a more civilized place, the center of the district.

At first Mother worked at the collective farm, doing temp work, and then a military hospital evacuated from Ukraine appeared in Vad. And my mom went there for work. At first she was a nurse – she had no special medical education – later she was taken to the operating-room – my mother was a very sociable and clever woman. An old professor – I don’t remember his surname – was very nice to her and took care of her. He knew that she had three little children, who suffered from hunger. At the hospital they gave her some food, and she did her best to bring it to us, the children. And that professor saw that she was hungry and shared his ration 10 with her – and so did his wife. I remember that Mother brought home used bandages from the bandaging room. He gave it to her, advised her to boil them thoroughly. Mom used them to make clothes. He also tried to give her a glass or a spoon when an opportunity arose.

Some time later the hospital left for a place nearer to the front, and my mom had no opportunity to follow them because of her children. By that time my cousin [Inna Nikitina], who was in evacuation together with us, had died. It happened that we all – the three of us – got ill with measles, and she didn’t recover, because her stomach was out of order. My brother and I had the eruptive stage, I remember, and Inna didn’t, even her temperature was normal. But when I woke up one morning – we slept embracing one another – I found her dead. We had been good friends.

In evacuation, my mom received letters from the frontline from my daddy – the last letter came in August 1942. I keep it as a family relic, because it’s the last piece of news from my father. It was written in pencil on a small sheet of paper. Having written that letter, he got lost, and we didn’t receive any more letters from him and knew nothing about him. Time passed and we got to know that he’d perished.

In evacuation, my aunt Lubov – my mother’s eldest sister – and Bassya – my mother’s cousin – spoke mainly Yiddish, though they weren’t as religious, as their father – Avraham Shukhman. My mom and my aunts from Leningrad – Ghita and Zlata – also spoke Yiddish. When we lived in Gorky region, they mainly spoke Yiddish to each other and I also learned this language involuntarily. In September 1943 I went to school in Vad and finished the 1st grade before returning to Leningrad. I remember only one thing about the village school. I tried to speak Yiddish there. But the village children started to tease me because of it! I became shy and very quickly lost my knowledge of the language. Completely.

Mom and Daddy also spoke Yiddish. But Daddy was a professional soldier, and among them they never put a premium on it. All my subsequent adult life also discouraged me of that knowledge. The only thing that connected us to Jewish traditions was that my mom cooked traditional Jewish food very well; Jewish cuisine was very famous at that time. Now I like cooking very much, but I live alone and there is nobody to cook for, maybe just on holidays or for my son.

We returned to Leningrad in 1944, as soon as the siege was lifted. We were among the first to get back to Leningrad from evacuation. Mother’s sister Ghita Abramovna lived on the corner of Lermontovsky Prospect and Soyuza Pechatnikov Street. She stayed in Leningrad all the time of the siege. Her husband worked at a military headquarters, and he sent an invitation 11 for my mom – because she was the wife of a military man.

Ghita Abramovna survived the war and the siege of Leningrad, she died only in 1969. She felt unhappy. One day when she was at home, a shell demolished a corner of her house, but she remained alive, she was only pushed strongly by an air-wave. In 1944 after the end of the war we assisted her in the reconstruction of her apartment. I remember that time [1944] in Leningrad. When I walked along the streets of Leningrad, I was surprised to see that the city, so ruthlessly destroyed, didn’t make such an impression. I saw a lot of windows, drawn on a cardboard and fragments of houses assembled like shields. Probably it was done to hide the destroyed houses; it was a sort of camouflage. So, here you go, look from a distance – it looks like a house, and when you come closer you can see only ruins. There were a lot of badly destroyed buildings, and if you looked from aside they looked as repaired and camouflaged, the authorities kept an eye on it. In January the siege was lifted, and in April we arrived in Leningrad. I remember that when we reached home, there was no snow any more.

Zlata Shukhman – we called her aunt Zina – who sent her daughter Inna in evacuation with us, where she died – arrived in Gorky region –they permitted her to leave Leningrad, when the siege was already lifted –and buried her daughter. Up to the last day she cried over her loss. All her life she cried and didn’t remarry. Each year she visited her daughter’s grave. When she became incapable of doing it, Aunt Zlata brought some soil from Inna’s grave to Leningrad and buried it in a common grave, where Aunt Ghita was already buried – at an ordinary cemetery, where there were Jewish zones 12. Later I buried Aunt Zlata and my mom there too.

Before the war the husband of Aunt Zlata Shukhman was subjected to repression and exiled 13. Her husband was a Pole by nationality, probably a Polish Jew. They both graduated from Moscow University. She even worked as an instructor at a District Committee of the Communist Party, and he was a teacher in Sverdlovsk Institute. Later he was arrested on the grounds of some made-up charges and released only after the end of the war. After her husband’s arrest Aunt Zina escaped together with her girl. She left all her documents, she left everything. At first she worked at laundries, did hard work during the war, i.e. she went into hiding, she was afraid of arrest. And then she started working in LENENERGO [Leningrad Energy Organization] as an inspector. She retired at the age of 60. After the end of the war, I know that she sent her husband many parcels, but I don’t know what happened to him later. Probably he married, or maybe he died. In our family it was a forbidden topic, I wasn’t grown-up yet and I couldn’t speak about it.

• After the War

When in spring of 1944 we returned from evacuation to Leningrad, I remember that we went to Ozerki [suburb of Leningrad] by tram, and then walked to Osinovaya Roscha – where we’d lived before the war in the military camp. It was a long way, and my brother Misha and I were little children. I remember that we often stopped and had a rest on our way. When we reached our place, we found our apartment plundered. Before evacuation we handed over a part of our belongings to the Municipal Operational Military Unit, which was situated in Levashevo, and we got them back. But it was small potatoes. When we came back, we had an absolutely empty room, a brick embrasure as a window, soldier’s rack and soldier’s bed without a mattress in the corner. And nothing else. We lived there at the very least till 1967, in any case my mom and my brother did. As for me, I left our home for some time.

After the end of the war my younger brother Misha was five years old. In evacuation I finished the first grade. When we arrived in Leningrad, we found out that in Osinovaya Roscha there was no school, and I went to school in Levashevo. It was one-and-a-half kilometers away from our house. There was no transport, and I went to school on foot. I remember that the school was situated across the railroad. I left home at seven in the morning and went to school on foot. I had to walk through the forest along a scary road. Would parents let their child walk such a way nowadays? But my mother worked. I liked to come first to the classroom, when there was no one there yet. I came in and switched on the light. That was my nature. I remained like that all my life, and later when I was a grownup, I was the first to come to work.

I walked in the school corridor and heard behind my back, ‘Jewess!’ Some people treated us very well and some said, ‘These so-and-so came and ate all our food!’ But in general I was treated well for some reason. I was always a naughty child, like a boy. I had a friend, a Jewish girl. She was always teased, though she was half-Russian. The teachers were no anti-Semites. Our primary grades’ teacher always protected me and scolded my little torturers. She even told me, ‘Don’t tell anyone that you are a Jewess.’ Some children, especially from uneducated families, could say something bad. Especially when we were in the junior grades. I remember how boys from our class fought with other boys, defending me, if someone had offended me. Mother always tried to smoothen such conflicts and told me not to pay attention. We had a big communal apartment, so we tried not to focus on the Jewish issue. But sometimes I thought to myself, ‘I will never marry a Jew, I don’t want my children to suffer.’ I cried so much when I was a little girl! Later when I grew up, I didn’t feel this children’s anti-Semitism, people treated me well.

I finished four grades in that school and continued my education in a seven-year school near the railroad, which was one kilometer closer to our home, also in Levashevo. I finished seven grades there without bad marks, I was a good pupil. My friends were children with whom I went to school. We played different games; I liked sport games very much, like volleyball, soccer. We liked the swing too and reached the high tree branches, when swinging! I could play outside for hours! Only once I went to a pioneer 14 camp on summer holidays. The camp was located in the village of Pesochnoye [a settlement on the northern outskirts of Leningrad, near Levashevo and Osinovaya Roscha]. Later only my brother was sent to pioneer camps. We weren’t a rich family. That is why mostly my brother got new toys, skis and a bicycle. I remember, when I was in the 8th grade, Aunt Zinaida and Aunt Ghita arranged wonderful holidays for me. They lived together at that time and I stayed with them for my winter holidays. I went to Mariinsky Theater every day. At that time it was called the Kirov Opera and Ballet Theater. I have seen its whole repertoire, all operas.

Mikhail attended a kindergarten. Later, when he grew up he went to school in Osinovaya Roscha – it was already opened by that time. I was already in the sixth or seventh grade, when he went to school. In Mikhail’s school I was a leader of Octobrists 15, and later right in his class. After seven years in Osinovaya Roscha School, he studied in Pargolovo School. Misha participated in the construction of that school, boys worked there as masons – the authorities stimulated their interest. After I finished seven grades, I then moved to Pargolovo high school and finished ten grades there.

I remember very well the day of Stalin’s death – 6th March 1953. [Joseph Stalin died on 5th March 1953.] I was a schoolgirl at that time. We didn’t know anything about his evil deeds at the time. We cried the whole lesson, like fools. All girls sat in the classroom and cried. We disrupted all lessons on that day. But we didn’t cry because we were sorry. We cried because we wanted to disrupt the lessons, we did that on purpose. When I found out later what Stalin wanted to do with the Jews 16, I understood everything. But when he died we didn’t know anything. Who could have told us?

One day Mother’s brother Naum visited us, at that time he served in Chita; he was a second in command – a pilot-scout. He came together with his wife and invited me to go with him. We lived in need, and he told me that it would be easier for me to enter an institute [university] there, than in Leningrad. At that time I dreamed to become a teacher, a teacher of history.

In Leningrad it was really difficult to enter an institute, and we had nothing to live on, therefore I decided to leave for Chita, to follow Uncle Naum’s advice. There I entered the Pedagogical Institute – History Faculty, later we were merged with the Foreign Languages Faculty, and later – with the Literary Faculty. So I graduated from the History and Philology Faculty in 1959. There was obligatory assignment for graduates at that time 17, and I went to Uletovsky district [120 kilometers away from Chita] according to my appointment. The village was called Ulety – 120 kilometers away from the railway station. There was only one well in the village.

That village was situated in Siberia. It was such wilderness, that people who lived there, had never seen the railroad in their lives. Many had never left the village. There was no radio, nothing. I was placed on the premises of an old deserted school. I shared a room with the teacher of mathematics. It was dangerous for a young girl to live alone in Balzoy [Chita region (Transbaikalia) was a place, where a lot of exiled persons and geologists lived, who were often drunk and were able to force their way into her house.

Houses in the settlement stood far apart, and there was nobody to help. And she was a very young girl, a recent graduate, 22 years old] and it wasn’t possible to go out at night. A geological group was stationed in the village. The workers drank, shouted, enjoyed themselves and made a lot of noise. We shut the door and trembled with fear the whole night, we were scared that drunken men would rush into the house. I was very much afraid to live there.
I was afraid of everything: of men, of dogs, of cows and bulls. 

On my way home from school in the evening, I was very nervous, I was scared to walk in the village. Bulls and cows walked right along the streets. When a herd approached me, I didn’t know what to do. I was a city girl and could not get used to the village life. I needed protection.

• Marriage, children and later life

Of course, I married there quickly and gave birth to my dear son Mikhail. My husband was a mechanic and later he went to Chita to study at the Agricultural Technical School. He finished it. Then in Irkutsk [city in Siberia] he graduated from the Agricultural Institute. Our family life was a failure. At the school I worked in two shifts and there were no day nursery or kindergarten or nannies in Balzoy. My mother-in-law couldn’t stay with my son, as she was busy with her own household. Who to leave my little son with?

I submitted an application asking to release me from administrative obligations and continued to work as a teacher of Russian language, literature and history only. When I went to work, I left my son with a woman who lived across the street and visited her during the working day to feed my baby. Certainly there was no due care for the baby. Once a pig almost bit off his arm, then when he started walking he got hit by a horse, luckily, he wasn’t hurt then. I shouldn’t have lived like that with a baby. I quit my job, basing my decision upon my family circumstances.

It happened in 1961 and I returned to Leningrad. Later my husband visited me twice in Leningrad and urged me to return, but I refused. I wasn’t able to get a divorce, because he didn’t agree for a long time to divorce me. Only in 1964 I persuaded him with great difficulty and we got divorced.

On my arrival in Leningrad new complications appeared – they refused to register me 18 at my mom’s room, where from I had left before the institute. Actually, they didn’t permit me to live there – go where you want! And I had to get a job – my acquaintances assisted me –in the settlement of Roschino as a pioneer leader at the eight-year school. I worked there and rented a room for some time. I was hard up – it was necessary to pay a nurse, to pay for the room, though a part of this sum was paid by the school.

I placed my son in the kindergarten in Osinovaya Roscha. The kindergarten was far away from home, in the forest. I had to drag him there early in the morning and run to school in order to be on time for the lessons which started at nine in the morning. A lot of things were done in the kindergarten on a voluntary basis and children’s parents helped the kindergarten teachers. Mikhail’s kindergarten teacher told me, ‘Don’t just come and work yourself, bring your children from school.’ We cleaned the big site, removed the leaves, helped to conduct the children’s celebrations. All in all, Mikhail’s teacher treated me very well. My son was brought up there in good conditions.

Later I managed to get a job in Osinovaya Roscha School. Teachers who had taught me, still worked there and they knew me very well. All positions of teachers were occupied and I got a job as a pioneer leader. Later my school manager moved me to Pargolovo School, where I got a very small salary: I gave few lessons – I taught history. But unfortunately the headmaster of that school gave this place to another one, who was a teacher of history too, and he took away my lessons of history and foisted pioneer work upon me.

My mom worked at the Commander-in-Chief’s; on the whole she had a sort of hush-hush work, something like housekeeping at the Commander-in-Chief’s. Soldiers were subordinated to her informally and assisted her. As she worked all her life in the military camp, she also took the military oath. In 1968 my mom retired, and the military camp she worked for gave her an apartment in Leningrad, near Chernaya Rechka, where I live now. And as we moved from Pargolovo together with my mom and it was a long way to get to my work – to the school, I managed to get a job at the Public Library. When I came there, it turned out that according to secret laws they didn’t give jobs to Jews.

They gave me a job only in the department of newspapers and only because its manager was Jewish – she had been working there for a long time – during the siege of Leningrad too. Her name was Tatyana Solomonovna Grigoryan, and it was she who gave me work. Her department lacked people and it was very hard physical work – to carry large volumes of newspapers ‘Pravda,’ ‘Leningradskaya Pravda,’ volumes of several months. So we carried them from place to place, and sometimes it was required to file newspapers for a period of 30 years! Imagine shelves five meters high! So we used step-ladders and carriages – it was a very hard job.

I worked during the daytime and attended higher library courses in the evening for a year. In fact I obtained a second university education, as I passed all exams under the program of the Library Institute. I finished the courses and began to work as a librarian, then as a senior librarian and later as a senior editor. I worked at the division of cataloging, described and annotated newspaper funds. I retired in 1990 from the position of chief librarian. I had been working at the Public Library for 22 years. I was awarded medals for valorous labor.

The team at the Public Library was intending to accept me to the Communist Party. The Communist organization at the Library was big. Each department or group of departments had its own Party nucleus. I was rather active in public work out of my school habits. I worked as an agitator and a political informer. Once a fortnight I gathered all employees of our department and instructed them on what was going on in the cultural life of our city and country and issues of the state’s internal policy – issues of foreign policy were introduced by another person. I drew information for my reports from newspapers, summarized it and told people with my own comments. During the pre-election campaign I worked as an electioneering agent.

Our Party nucleus actively pushed me through to the Party. Everybody told me, ‘A historian should be a member of the Party.’ They had been ‘pushing me through’ there for three years. I wanted to affiliate with the Party very much, but Jews were admitted very reluctantly. I was educated in the sphere of history and literature, and working at school, I confronted the fact that teaching of history in senior grades – I mean History of the USSR – was entrusted only to party members, i.e. to specially approved persons. I know – they told me – that at party meetings of our unit they discussed my nomination several times: they decided whether I deserve their recommendation or not. So I was a candidate for the Party from 1969 till 1970 – more than a year. I

n 1975 I joined the Party. In a year I was elected secretary of the primary party organization, which united Communists of three departments: the newspaper department, the oriental studies’ department, the department of national literature in the languages of the USSR peoples. Besides my direct job I had to manage the party organization, make speeches at meetings and work with personnel. Before retirement, I had been working for twelve years in the party organization. I left home early in the morning at 7.30 and came back home late at night. I had no free time. I had friends only at work.

I didn’t experience any oppression on the basis of anti-Semitism, though sometimes unpleasant feelings related to my nationality arose. Sometimes I even felt uneasy at work. For example, when I sat at the meeting of political informers at the Party District Committee, devoted to the newspapers overview, and the instructor explained to us, what one was allowed to say about Jews and what had to be held back. I sat in front of him and avoided his stare. It was certainly awful. I also faced problems when looking for a job. My patronymic is Ayzikovna. My father’s name was Ayzik and it was in his documents too. But when I worked at school, everybody called me Arkadyevna 19. Even the Head of the District National Education advised me, ‘If people distort your patronymic, say that it is Arkadyevna.’ When I returned to Leningrad and was looking for a job, I also had problems. My real patronymic – Ayzikovna – is written in all my documents.

My son Mikhail was born in 1960, on 4th December. I named him Mikhail in honor of my brother. When my brother was born – and I was a child at that time – it was I who gave him his name Mikhail. It happened because Bassya’s husband was Mikhail, and I liked him very much, though I was a girl then – he seemed very handsome to me. And I tried to persuade my parents to name my brother Mikhail.

But I lived with my son and my mother, who was an old woman by that time. When I began to work at the Public Library, Mikhail went to school. At first he stayed at the extended day group for the whole day. Later, when Mother retired in 1967, she stayed with him after lessons and took care of him. Before retirement Mother was provided with an apartment in Leningrad. We moved to the center of the city. Mikhail studied in the eight-year school located on Serdobolskaya Street and finished it with good marks. He was the favorite pupil of the teacher of literature and wrote good compositions. Since I worked at the library she always used me and asked me to talk to her pupils about books. I often went to their school and gave lectures about various pieces of literature.

After the 8th grade my son tried to enter Suvorov College, which trains officers. He passed all exams but wasn’t accepted. His documents, which he submitted to the entrance examination commission, stated, ‘Mother is a Jewess’ 20. Mikhail decided to enter the Suvorov Military College, though we knew that they didn’t accept Jews: a secret rule everyone knew about. The formal reason for refusal was his poor eyesight. Mikhail wanted to become a professional soldier very much – like his grandfather and my father: I told him a lot about my father. He continued to study in high school at the mathematical department. However, he was in a bad mood the whole year. He simply didn’t want to study. I cried a lot during that time. He said that it didn’t make any sense because he wouldn’t be accepted to any place. He was in a really bad mood, he was very much offended. However, he finished the ten-year school in 1977 with good marks and entered the Higher Military Engineering College of Communication – at present it is called the Academy of Communication.

While my son studied there, he lived in barracks. During the first two or three years cadets were allowed to leave their barracks only at weekends – but not every weekend. I would be sticking around the entrance of the college together with mothers of other cadets for five years. We quarreled, but dragged bags full of food for our sons, as they were always hungry, especially during the first year, until they got used to the army rules. In senior courses he spent nights at home more often.

Being not indifferent to the destiny of his grandfather – my father – he searched for information about him. He also got information about Efim, my mother’s brother, who perished in Kirovsky district and was buried there. It was Mikhail who pressed the regional military registration and enlistment office for his burial.

While Mikhail studied at the military college, he faced anti-Semitism all the time. I think that people do this because of lack of good breeding. Why should I be ashamed of my nationality? Mikhail thought the same. I told him, ‘I’d better not come to your college, so that you won’t be teased.’ But he took me by the hand and proudly stalked along the cadets. He said he didn’t care about their tricks and about what they said. He said that he wouldn’t be ashamed of his mother. He was really very proud of me. He graduated from the college in 1982 in the rank of an engineer-lieutenant and was assigned to serve at the practice military unit in Pereyaslavl –Zalessky [an ancient Russian town near Moscow]. He was the platoon commander at first and later taught military disciplines at the soldiers’ school and obtained the rank of senior lieutenant.

In 1987 he was assigned to the town of Aleysk in Altay [a mountainous region in the south of Western Siberia, 3,500 km east of St. Petersburg]. He served there in rocket forces and stayed in an underground bunker. He got his rank of a captain there. Soon he returned to Pereyaslavl-Zalessky and married a Russian woman. Her name was Olga, she worked – and works to date – at school as a teacher of English language. In 1991 his son, Alexey, was born and in 1996 Mikhail got transferred to St. Petersburg, but his wife refused to join him. They got divorced. The child stayed with the mother, she never let her son anywhere away from her. He is a very good boy and loves his father very much. He said, ‘Dad, let’s run away from Mother, she may stay where she wants.’ Mikhail calls him every week, visits him on his birthdays and other holidays. He visited St. Petersburg every year with his mother, but not this year [2002].

Mikhail worked at the city military registration and enlistment office. Later he was given a promotion and the rank of a major and was assigned to the town of Volodga. He worked there for a year and several months. It was the economic crisis period, when the officers didn’t get paid and had no apartments. He lived there alone. He got demobilized in 2002 after 20 years of service and got a small pension. Certainly he wasn’t going to retire but it was a terrible time. Reduction of the army started and he quit. He was looking for a job for a long time and tried many jobs. He took courses of drivers a long time ago, took security guards’ courses and obtained a license for security guarding, but still it wasn’t easy to find a proper job. He tried to get a job as a security guard, of an agent in a travel agency and a manager in a small company. His friends also tried to help him and offered him a position at some warehouse, but he refused and said, ‘I shall not work there, there’s nothing to do.’ Thus my son wasn’t needed by anyone after 20 years of service for his Motherland. He also took courses of marketing and found a job related to real estate. He has been working in this field for two years already. I think he likes it. Though he grumbles, it seems that he loves his job, because he is responsible for many things – he has to check everything, find out information and make arrangements with people.

I sometimes thought about immigrating to Israel, but my life developed in such a way that I couldn’t leave, though in fact it was possible. While Mikhail worked in Altay, I got married for the second time in 1988, when I was 53 years old already. My husband’s name was Vladimir Libin, he was a Jew. He was a very nice man. His first wife died a long time ago when he was a young man. She was ill for a long time, she had cancer. Vladimir took care of her and brought up their son, he was both a mother and a father. His son’s name is Mikhail too. He has grown up and works now as a doctor at the ambulance. He is a good doctor. His wife is also a doctor and they have two children.

At the end of the 1980s Mikhail’s family suddenly decided to leave for Israel. They got packed quickly and in several months left for the town of Ashkelon. They wrote letters to his father asking him to come. They even took offence at me, though I didn’t hold him back. Certainly Vladimir was torn between me and them. I told him that I couldn’t leave. My mother was more than 80 years old, she was sick and senile and lived until her 90th birthday. She spent the last six years of her life in bed and didn’t get up. Besides, my son Mikhail served in the Soviet army. If I had left, he would have been dismissed from the army 21. How could I have left? I couldn’t have left my mother alone.

My husband Vladimir left alone after long hesitation. He was waiting for me for two years in Israel and continued to ask me to come, but I didn’t go. He even wanted to return to St. Petersburg, but I talked him out of it, telling him, ‘You will keep striving to go back.’ His children and grandchildren lived there. I understood him but cried. We corresponded after that. If he had left some time later, I would have gone with him. My mother died in 2000 – she was buried at the Jewish cemetery in the same grave as her sister – and my son retired from the army in 2002. My main problems were gone and I was ready to join my husband in Israel. However, Vladimir died in 1999. So I never visited Israel, but dreamed about it all my life.

Besides my mother and son Mikhail the closest person to me was my younger brother Mikhail. When we returned to Leningrad after evacuation he was five years old. There was no kindergarten in our military settlement and I stayed with him at home all the time. The kindergarten was arranged a year after, and Mikhail attended it for a year. When I went to school in Levashevo, Mikhail went to elementary school, which was opened in Osinovaya Roscha in 1947. I took care of him as I was the pioneer leader in that school. Later he went to Pargolovo School. My brother was very clever and got only excellent marks. As a pupil of senior grades he worked in addition at a construction site, but still managed to finish the ten-year school with excellent marks. In 1957 he entered the Military Mechanical Institute and graduated from it with excellent results too. They wanted him to stay at the post-graduate department, but the subfaculty preferred a different student. Mikhail was assigned to work at the machinery construction plant in the town of Kremenchug [today Ukraine]. It was 1962, if I am not mistaken. He left and in a month received a telegram from the institute about a vacancy at the subfaculty and an invitation to the post-graduate department. But he was offended and refused to go back. So he stayed in Kremenchug.

He worked at that plant, which produced machinery for road construction, from the beginning of his assignment term until retirement. At first he worked as a shop engineer, later at the SCB [Special Construction Bureau], then he was appointed Manager of the SCB and received the honorary title of ‘Best inventor of the USSR Ministry of Engineering Industry.’ He studied at the post-graduate department by correspondence for four years, wrote a dissertation on road pavements, but failed to defend it. Key specialists from Leningrad and Moscow had a quarrel with Kremenchug and his dissertation was ‘killed.’ He had a nervous breakdown and fell sick with diabetes. He was sick for many years and complications began. He underwent an operation in Kremenchug and his leg was amputated. He returned to the plant but in 1996 he was forced to retire based on disablement at the age of 56. It was a real blow for him. He died a year after that, in 1997. 

My brother’s wife Polina is a Ukrainian Jewess. My brother met her in Kremenchug, I don’t know any details of their encounter. Polina’s mother and father were religious people, they spoke good Yiddish and observed Jewish Tradition for certain, but I visited them in Kremenchug only once and have only a rough idea about it. In any case, Polina also knew Yiddish and brought the tradition to her family. I know little about it, because we saw each other once a year, when they came to visit us. She finished a library school, later graduated from the Library Institute and still works. She holds the position of Regional Library Department Head in Kremenchug. She is a very nice and active woman and people treat her well.

They had two children: son Alexander and daughter Galina. Alexander was born in 1967 and finished the ten-year school in Kremenchug. Later he studied at the Machinery Construction Institute in Moscow and lived in a dormitory. He served in the army for two years. He returned to Kremenchug and worked at the plant where his father worked. When Mikhail became disabled, Alexander took him to the plant in a wheelchair. After Mikhail was fired, Alexander was so much worried about his father that he quit his job too. He found a job in a private company and still works there as an assistant. He earns a good salary. The company specializes in computers and various office equipment. Alexander married a girl he went to school with. His wife’s name is Marina. Her family came to Kremenchug from Estonia before she was born. I know almost nothing about her family, but the fact that her father worked at the network of railway lines. Alexander and Marina have no children. Marina works at a machinery construction plant. Alexander has been sick for the last years. He was exposed to radioactive irradiation when he served in the army. Now he has problems with his liver and kidneys and he’s gained a lot of extra weight. 

In 1980 my brother and his wife Polina had another baby, a daughter Galina. She was a late child and her father’s favorite. Polina gave birth to stillborn children several times. But then Galina was born. She got only excellent marks at school and was the best pupil. She finished the school with a medal [distinction]. Later she studied in Kremenchug at the Machinery Construction Institute and obtained the profession of a machinery construction engineer. She is a very clever girl and has always been a leader in the KVN [‘The Club of Jolly and Smart,’ a popular entertainment contest in the USSR] at the institute and their team even appeared on stage representing Kremenchug. She is very fond of artistic knitting. She helped her mother to earn some additional money with it when she was a student. All in all, she is a smart girl. It’s not possible to find a job in her professional field in Kremenchug now; she took accountants’ courses and works as an accountant now. Galina is married to a Ukrainian, his name is Vitaly; I don’t remember his last name. They have a good family, they both work and recently their daughter was born. 

• Glossary:

I met Anatoly Lifshits in his cosy apartment in the city centre where he lives together with his wife Lubov Mironovna.

Anatoly Lifshits is a man of courage. He survived the ordeals of war. But in his life he had to exhibit not only military, but also civil bravery.

Anatoly Lifshits has kept surprising memory and we can only be envious of his wit and clarity of thought.

He is a gifted story-teller with rich and flexible language.
A meeting with such a person can be considered pennies from heaven.
I hope that readers of this interview will manage to estimate Anatoly Lifshits at his true worth.

My family background

Growing up

During the war

After the war

My children's life

Recent years

Glossary

My family background

Unfortunately I started to be interested in history of our family (especially in origin of my parents) rather late. When it became interesting to me, there was already nobody to ask. But nevertheless I remember some facts.

My mother was the youngest (the 7th) daughter of her parents. In 1890s in Ufa my maternal grandfather Joseph Gutman founded an iron workshop which was later turned into rather large iron foundry. The workshop produced even fire machines (!). It is interesting that in 1960s I travelled along the Volga River and in Volgograd I saw covers of manholes with inscription GUTMAN. My mother told me that my grandfather was very strict both at home and at work. He was also a man of great resource (in all spheres of life).

My maternal grandmother Vera Mikhailovna was born in Troitsk (Ural region). I remember my grandmother to be very good, easy-tempered and fair woman.

I was born in October 1918 in Ufa in the midst of the Civil War 1. The family of my maternal grandfather escaped from the Bolsheviks (I understood it later) in the wake of the retreating Kolchak army 2. They reached Vladivostok, and then moved to Harbin. Later they returned to Vladivostok, where my grandfather got ill and died soon. I guess it happened approximately in 1920. My grandmother lived in families of her children in turn, but the most part of her life she spent together with the family of her younger son David. I can tell nothing for a fact about the level of religiosity of my grandparents. I guess religion did not have a significant place in their life. My grandmother used to live with us for a long time, and I never saw her praying. She never attended the synagogue.

My grandmother and grandfather’s elder son’s name was Alexander. He was a man of rough temper and frequently quarreled with my grandfather (his father). Once he even left home, took a job of a sailor and went to South America. Nevertheless later he came back, healed the breach with parents, turned around and received good education in Switzerland. He worked as a chief mechanical engineer at the Chelyabinsk Tractor Factory. In 1937 during the Great Terror 3 he was arrested and perished in Stalin’s camps. Of course we know no details about his death. I never saw him. Another brother of my mother (David - the younger brother) was educated in Germany. He worked in the sphere of road machine-building. He worked very successfully, but he also drank the cup of woe: in 1937 he was arrested and sent to camps in Vorkuta [a city in the far north of Russia]. But he was lucky: by that time his machines stopped working and nobody could understand the reason. They retrieved David (though by that time he was already half-dead) from Vorkuta. He managed to understand reasons of malfunctions and explained how to deal with them. They did not send him back to the camp, and it saved his life. He went on working as an engineer, and did it quite successfully. Anyway in 1934 (when I finished 7 classes) I visited him in Moscow, and it appeared that he had a personal car (presented to him by Ordzhonikidze). [Sergo Ordzhonikidze was an outstanding Soviet and Communist Party figure, a professional revolutionist (1886-1937).]

Camps undermined my uncle David's health, therefore he died during the war being not old at all. I remember David to be a witty and cheerful person. Here I’ll tell you about an episode in 1934 in Moscow. When I visited my uncle David, my grandmother lived at his place. One morning we were having breakfast, when a driver entered. He was ready to bring my uncle to his office. ‘Good morning, Ivan Pavlovich!’ grandmother welcomed him. “I suppose you are cold, get warm!” And she filled a glass with vodka. Uncle said very politely (they were always very polite to each other) “Are you going to make a drunkard of my driver?” And grandmother answered “I know how to treat coachmen very well!”

My grandmother (I already told you) was very fair. Let me prove it. One of grandmother’s daughters (Rebecca) got married and moved to Kharkov. She gave birth to a son Vitya, my cousin. It was my nightmare! I was an ordinary child: I ran, played tricks, and was often punished. And he was a model child. All my life parents held him up as an example for me. Mom used to say ‘Vitya would never behave like this!’ But you see, one day my grandmother suddenly asked me to tell her about the Himalayan islands. I was already about 10 years old; I liked geography and knew that there were no Himalayan islands on earth. But it was uncomfortable for me to point her mistake out and I managed to give our conversation another turn. And in the evening I heard my grandmother speaking to Mom “You are not right, your son is not bad at all. He did not want to hurt my feelings, while Vitya explained to me in great detail that I understand nothing, that there are no Himalayan islands on earth.” After that case Vitya disappeared from my parents’ collection of educational methods. My grandmother died in 1942 at the age of 82. Later I met Vitya, he was a worthy person, a colonel of the Air Forces, had participated in the war. However, it was a pleasure for me to realize that though he was an ideal child, he achieved less than me.

My mom was born in Ufa in 1898. She finished grammar school in Ufa and went to Kiev to study at some courses for women. But by that time World War I already burst out, Germans came, and it became impossible for her to finish education. In 1916, my Mom met my father in Kiev, and that meeting was of critical importance for her. So, mom returned to Ufa, and father followed her and asked her parents for her hand. They got married. And when mom’s parents moved to the Far East, she did not go with them, but remained in Ufa with her young husband. I was born in 1918.

My paternal grandmother Basye Yakovlevna and grandfather Alexander Yosefovich were absolutely different. They lived in a small Belarus shtetl Kopys near Orsha (on the bank of the Dnieper River). Their family was very poor. Sholom-Aleikhem colorfully described life of such Jewish families in his works. [Sholom-Aleikhem was a Jewish writer (1859-1916).] They had 6 children, my father was the eldest. A small shop helped them to support their life. My grandmother was engaged in trading, and my grandfather used to pray. In contrast to Mom’s family they spoke only Yiddish. The family was very religious. They observed all Jewish traditions. I saw my paternal grandmother and grandfather only several times in my life: they came to visit us (in Ufa) to look how their elder son lived. Grandmother was very strict: she used to say she had come to organize everything in order. Mom considered her words skeptically, but kindly. She always listened to grandmother’s advices very respectfully. And my grandfather used to ask the same question “And where is the synagogue?” He usually took some striped bed sheets and leather belts and went to pray. I was surprised very much: at that time I knew nothing about tallit and tefillin.

Members of my parents’ family were respectful to religion, but (as I already told you) it did not occupy significant place in our life. During Pesach we ate matzot, but also ate Easter cakes and paskha with great pleasure [Paskha is traditional cake baked for Orthodox Easter]. When I was a child, my parents taught me to be respectful to clergymen. Later I read The Tale of the Priest and of his Workman Balda [Balda in Russian means a stupid or not very serious person] by Pushkin 4. [In that fairy tale the orthodox priest is shown to be greedy and silly.] I was surprised that Pushkin showed disrespect to a clergyman, an orthodox priest in this case. As far as rabbis are concerned, I did not see any during my childhood.

But let’s get back to my father’s childhood. When he was 13 years old, parents sent him away. He went to Vitebsk by a steamship. In Vitebsk his sister lived together with her husband. Her husband had small business connected with textiles. So my father started working there as an accountant. He was not educated, but very capable and purposeful. He managed to pass through exams and got a school leaving certificate without attending lectures. Later he entered a Kiev College for specialists in commerce. So he got acquainted with my Mom being a student.

Growing up

My father worked in an office. They were engaged in production and sales of pottery. Now I understand that we had not plenty to live. I think so because I remember my father cooking soap for sale at home. I do not know what he made it from. I remember that it was white and blue, and father cut it into pieces using wire. But little by little our financial situation improved, there came a time of NEP 5. We were not rich, but not poor. On holidays our table was laden with rich food. We used to cook not less than 100 pelmeni [Russian dumplings] for one male member of the family. Family habits were more Russian, than Jewish. It could be seen in every moment of life, including meals. We lived on the 1st floor of a two-storey house. There was a yard covered with grass. I remember that we bought a horse because father had to go on business trips very often. The 2nd floor of the house was occupied by the family of doctor Chernyak. We were friends. Every Saturday adults played preference. So we led a steady provincial life.

In 1923 my sister Judith was born. I became an elder brother. Since I was 6, parents started to beat me if they considered me not to meet requirements of that role. But I was very much pleased to have a sister. My sister was my best friend when we were children. And later we became very close.

My sister finished school in Kiev, and entered Medical College in Ufa, in evacuation (she graduated from it in Moscow). My sister was a very capable person. She worked in Moscow; she was a well-known doctor, specialist in hematology. Unfortunately last year she died. I miss her very much. She had got a daughter Vera and a grandson.

In 1924 father moved to Kazan, where he became a director of the same office. A little bit later we joined him in Kazan. I remember that our steamship stopped at the place of junction of Kama to Volga rivers, and another steamship coming from the opposite direction moored to our steamship. From that steamship father came aboard our one: that was the way he met us. In Kazan we lived in the apartment on the 2nd floor of a house. There was a large yard full of trees. In the apartment there was a bathroom (it was very uncommon at that time). My Mom was a very sociable woman, she used to invite all old women from the neighboring houses to have a bath. After a bath, they used to twist their heads round with towels, drink tea and speak about peace time, i.e. about the time before the World War I. I listened to their stories with great interest. You know, human memory is very deceptive, no doubt. When I got to Kazan in 1980s and found our former house, I understood that it was small, and the yard was small, too. Probably it was me who grew up.

In 1927 father was advanced again and sent to Kiev. In Kiev he bought half of an apartment. Therefore in fact we lived in a communal apartment 6. Soon NEP was abandoned, father’s office was closed, and (as I understand now) father realized that no good would come of commercial activities in the USSR. He found a job at glass-works. Soon he became a chief engineer at glass-works near Zhitomir (close to the border with Poland). Altogether he worked at 2 glass-works 6 or 7 years.

Father worked very well. His main task was to support technological process in glass-furnaces. He managed. We lived in Kiev and we visited him only in summer. Having worked there several years, father expected no lift in his career, because he had no special education. He went on semi-annual leave, and graduated from the Kiev Polytechnic College (Ceramic Faculty) without attending lectures. He studied days and nights. As soon as he got his diploma, he was appointed a chief engineer at large glass-works near Kharkov. There he worked for a year, and then was invited to be a chief engineer at the new factory producing thermos bottles (in Kiev). There he worked very successfully, too (his photo could be found on the board of honor). We were not rich (we could not imagine richness), but we were not poor. I remember that one day my father, a chief engineer, received a bonus. He spent that sum of money having bought a big water-melon and a loaf of black bread. Mom rented out one room (I guess she had to). She knitted very well for all of us (my sister was always well-dressed).

In summer we used to leave for vacation. Sometimes we went to the Black Sea, sometimes rented small houses in the neighboring villages.

To my opinion my Mom had very reasonable educational principles. Our house was always open for my friends and for my sister’s friends. Mom understood children very well. Here I can tell you that my friends often asked her advice instead of their parents’. At the same time mom was very impulsive by nature and a hard hitter. She was often on my back. But I deserved punishments, because I was a rather playful child. Here I’ll tell you about an episode I remember very well. I was a schoolboy. I liked to study very much, it was interesting to me. But children at school were different. Their interests were different. Students were fond of gambling. I did not like it, but did not want to break with my comrades. We played at home of each participant in turn (when his parents were absent). So one day it was my turn. And I had no secrets from my mom.

I explained to her that it was my turn and my friends would come to play. Mom agreed. 10 boys came. We started gambling. Mom did not enter our room, but suddenly after a while there came a neighbor and asked our permission to play with us. He quickly gambled away his small sum of money and left. Then I understood that he was my mother's agent: she asked him to clear up the situation (what game we were playing, etc.). Mom did not want to come in herself because it would put me in an embarrassing situation in presence of my friends. A couple of days later Mom had a detailed talk to me about gambling. She even mentioned Dostoevsky 7. [Dostoevsky was a real gambler.] Mom forbade me nothing, but after that conversation I made my own decision and refused to gamble.

Mom worked much about the house, but we always had domestic servants. We had no governesses, but teachers regularly came to teach me and my sister foreign languages. I learned German letters before Russian ones. When I was a pupil of the 6th form, I started learning English and French. Later I had to stop studying French, it was too difficult. But when I read War and Peace by Tolstoy 8, I easily understood all text paragraphs written in French. I liked languages, they came easily to me. To tell the truth, later (when I started talking to Englishmen) I realized that I was able to communicate with books, not with people. I guess it was not my fault: they taught us that way. I became a schoolboy in Kiev. My first 7 years at school seemed to me a game: nothing was difficult for me. In the 7th grade, I realized that it was necessary to study seriously. Most of all I liked mathematics.

Boris Solomonovich Lembersky was a remarkable teacher at our school. He managed to teach every pupil individually when we were all together at lessons. After his training pupils were able to pass through entrance exams anywhere they liked. A also remember Pavel Ivanovich Novosiltsev, a teacher of history. His distinguishing feature was his true interest to children. By the way, at that time history course presented facts as if world did not exist before 1905 9. Everything I know in history, I learned without any assistance (from books).

At school literature was the worst subject. Our teacher read us aloud, without drawing our attention to the beauty of our language. Sports occupied a significant place in my life: volleyball at first, then swimming and tennis. Every day my training sessions lasted 3-4 hours. I studied very well, my school certificate was full of excellent grades, which allowed me to enter any college I liked without entrance examinations (I had to pass only through the entrance interview) 10. I had a lot of friends; I am still in touch with some of them. Our last meeting was devoted to the 65th anniversary of our school leaving. Among my friends there were both Jews and gentiles. By the way, in our class more than 50% of pupils were Jewish. But the nationality of my friends was of no importance for me.

Here I’d like to tell you that I finished school in 1937, in the midst of Stalin mass repressions. You see, I know about it not by hearsay. We lived in the five-storey house, and doors of our arrested neighbors were sealed up one by one. I remember that I woke up one night and saw my parents standing at the window and looking out. Only now I understand that they watched cars passing by and guessed whether one of them was meant for them. Members of our family agreed that arrested people were guilty in nothing. But it happened somehow (and I give Mom the credit of it) that we (children) understood everything very well: it was one thing to talk to family members and another to talk in public. Parents did not hesitate speaking about political events in our presence. My Mom was so impulsive that it was difficult for her to keep secret. I remember that after Khrushchev denounced Stalin's methods 11 and rehabilitated many prisoners (unfortunately most of them posthumously) Mom told a joke ‘Khrushchev is walking around a cemetery, bowing low to each tomb and asking ARE YOU REHABILITATED?’ So, we were taught to hold our tongues, but at the same time parents used to say that we should stand up for justice. I learned that lesson very well, and later I’ll tell you how I suffered over it. By the way, I do not believe people who say that they learned about Stalin repressions only after Khrushchev’s speech. Everyone knew, but was afraid: it was too terrible to know.

So, it was necessary to choose a college. At that time I knew nothing about pure science, because I was brought up in the family of engineers. If I knew, I would have entered Mathematical Faculty of the University and would have been engaged in my favorite mathematics. But at that time I decided between the 2 variants: a school teacher or an engineer. I chose engineering career and entered the Kiev Polytechnic College. My parents did not interfere. Again my father left Kiev for Gorky [now Nizhniy Novgorod] region to work at a factory producing windshields. I guess departure of my father had one more reason: he had a foreboding about a possible arrest. In that case simple change of residence could help.

So, I became a student. It was a rather thoughtless action. I was advised to study at the Faculty of Chemical Mechanical Engineering. I have studied there a year. That year did not impress me at all. I was an excellent student in mathematics, because I was prepared very well. But I did not like the way they taught us physics. And technical drawing was the most difficult subject for me. It was a real torture. I remember that one day a teacher made 93 remarks about my drawing. Besides our studies we had to participate in different meetings, where we were obliged to blame enemies of people 12 (it had to be a group action). Most often we had to blame participants of different antigovernment groups, who had already been arrested and condemned. Those people lived in Moscow, and we were in Kiev, but it made no difference. It was not an easy way for the College communist leaders to deal with students: they asked improper questions, refused to vote for condemning resolutions. I cannot tell that I acted up to my principles: I was a conformist (sat still, solving integrals and raising my hand when demanded). Probably, that was the way I survived. But it was impossible to survive another way.  

Well, a year passed. It was before the war, different military schools invited cadets. It was not absolutely voluntary: all Komsomol 13 members were obliged to receive medical certificates. I did not mind to become a cadet: it seemed to me that in case of war it was necessary to defend our country. Moreover, I did not hold my College dear. At the 1st medical examination a doctor asked me whether I wanted to study at that military school. I did not (and I told her about it honestly). She found a nonexistent defect. Later I went through the medical examination selecting volunteers for the Navy. By that time I decided to be engaged in shipbuilding and told the doctor about it. I passed for general service and was sent to study at the Military School named after Frunze in Leningrad. It happened in 1938.

Since then all my life is connected with fleet. I was taken in as a cadet of the 2nd course. Training was absolutely different. They taught us not physics and mathematics, but navigation and astronomy, etc. Among our teachers there were many officers of the Tsarist Fleet. Every Saturday and Sunday they gave a ball. Each cadet received two permits: for himself and for his girlfriend. Our balls were well-known all over the city, and our graduates were considered to be suitable matches. I did not like those parties; I preferred to go to the swimming pool. I took part in it only once and was surprised to be a success. Later I understood the reason. At that time portraits of Stalin scholars were placed on a special honorable board [the best students of high schools received Stalin stipends] and my photo was among them.

In winter we studied and in summer we sailed. Our 1st summer we spent on board the Aurora Cruiser. [The Cruiser Aurora was launched in 1900. It took part in the October revolution of 1917. Now it is a museum.]

Next year we sailed on board fighting ships, and got to Liepaya (it was a foreign port at that time, but our military bases were already situated there). So I participated in the early stages of occupation of the Baltic countries 14. Our last training sail took place on the Ladoga Lake. We got to the well-known Valaam Island. Monks had already run away and the monastery was handed over to the Fleet. School of Sea Cadets was to be placed there. I was surprised to see the huge and tuned monastery farming. I got into the special library team. We had to check the monastic library and do away with the literature of White Guards 15. There I found not only religious, but also secular books. There I read a lot of books by different authors I never came across before. 

During the war

Here I’ll tell you about the prewar days. Stalin tried to gain time. I know that our naval attaché in Berlin got to know for sure that Germans were going to attack the USSR on June 22. He informed Kuznetsov (Naval Minister) about it, and Kuznetsov reported to Stalin. Stalin said “Don’t give way to provocations.” I guess Stalin could not believe that someone was more artful than him, and swept aside all hints about beginning of the war. On June 14 PRAVDA newspaper published denial by the Telegraph Agency of the Soviet Union: “…the Germans meet all their engagements, therefore we have to stop panic mood.’ And we were lucky in a certain sense. Naval minister N.G. Kuznetsov was very capable, resolute, a man of insight (in contrast to many army generals, for example Voroshylov and even Zhukov [16, 17]. At our School they told us that newspapers could write what they wanted, but we had to keep our powder dry. The point was that Kuznetsov visited Spain in 1937 18 and saw Spanish battleship shipwrecked by German airplanes. He was impressed. Therefore he introduced into practice the following rule: only one word had to be broadcast in case of danger and that word meant combat readiness. When the war burst out, he managed to transmit that word by radio, while generals of other armies wrote long encryptions which had to be decoded. That was why during the 1st days of the war no warships were destroyed, while almost all our aircrafts were crushed.

The war burst out when I was in Leningrad passing examinations. We were divided into 2 groups: submariners and sailors. I became a submariner. We were sent to Vladivostok to finish our education. That was why I spent the first 2 months of war in the Far East. Later they divided us into 4 groups and sent to different seas. I was sent to the North. We were moving very slowly (in heated goods vans). [A heated goods van was a freight car adapted for transportation of people.] We were passing through Moscow in the beginning of November, the city was almost empty. It was a sad sight. One car was destroyed by bombing and one of our cadets was seriously wounded: he lost his legs. Before that case I was not serious thinking about the war, but then I suddenly understood how dangerous it was. We reached Arkhangelsk, and then went to Murmansk by the ship across the sea coated with ice. There I went to the staff department. They asked me where I wanted to serve. I preferred surface ship and they appointed me a junior navigator to Gremyaschiy torpedo boat.

Here I’ll tell you about my parents. Mom together with my sister hardly managed to leave Kiev and reached Ufa having been bombed several times. Father was mobilized in the beginning of the war (by that time he was 49 years old). People of his age have been quickly let off from the army. He went to Ufa, too. But at that time I knew nothing about them.

My service was to accompany escorts. Englishmen and Americans sent to the USSR lend-lease aid: tanks, airplanes, tinned stewed meat. Lend-lease aid was given on credit. [Lend-lease was a system of loaning or renting arms, ammunition, strategic raw material, foodstuffs, goods and services to countries - allies.] They sent their aid through northern way (where I served), Pacific Ocean (from the Western coast of the USA to Vladivostok), and by trains from Iran. The 3rd way was the safest, but the longest (it took many months). The northern way was the shortest one, but it was the most dangerous.

I’d like to tell you about my attitude to the lend-lease program. During the Cold War aid of allies was belittled. They used to say that it made only 4% of the total number of armament. It is true, but what 4% and during what time. In the beginning of the war our army suffered heavy losses. Without tanks, airplanes, and automobiles received according to that program, we would have not survived. That program played an important role in our war! And now it is recognized.

This cargo had to be transferred past Norway (occupied by Germans). The ships had to move along a narrow corridor: occupied Norway staffed with German airplanes on the one side and Arctic ice bar on the other one. The way was a week long, and German airplanes needed only half an hour to reach us from the Norwegian shore and drop their bombs upon us. Foreigners called that way to Murmansk real hell. It came about the following way: 20-30 trading vessels with cargo moved towards Murmansk. They were surrounded by warships forming a circle. Sometimes (if the number of warships was enough) they formed 2 circles. Patrol ships took the lead destroying German submarines. English warships moved from the West guarding cargo ships against German warships. Two groups of trading vessels started from Murmansk and from England simultaneously. We had to escort our ships and meet English ones.

In the certain point (at the 20th meridian) Soviet warships joined the accompanying ships. All these ships were called a convoy. The convoy was slow-footed. Many ships had been taken down by German airplanes. The water was icy. If a person fell down into water, he had no chance to survive. Besides the ship guns became iced and it was necessary to chop off the ice. Germans learned about a convoy long before it approached Norway and started preparing submarines and heavy bombers. Germans not only bombed us from airplanes, but also torpedoed. Very soon we learned how to shoot into the water from our biggest guns. It was necessary to shoot so that a wall of water rose in front of a dive-bomber, and it crashed into it. That was the way I served. 

I participated in 23 convoys. Englishmen, who took part in 2 convoys and survived, thought they were lucky. Our ship was lucky to catch the bomb lying in dock. It made a hole, but did not reach the engine-room, and that was the most important. But you see, about 15 persons were lost that day.

Here I’d like to get back a little. When I was a cadet, I got married. My first wife Galina was German. As soon as the communist leader of our crew got to know about it, I understood that there was no escaping fate. One day in our wardroom we were talking about prisoners of war. I expressed my opinion that not every prisoner of war was a traitor. The communist leader perverted my words and said that I called upon to give up. A week later I was read out of the Party and transferred from my ship. By that moment I had already taken part in 9 convoys. I was appointed a commander of the girls’ platoon (at that time they drafted girls). After my serious service, it was a hard blow to me, but it did not knock me down. I wrote a letter to the flagman navigator with a request to send me to some ship. A month later I was lucky to receive an assignment of navigator. Later I understood why it happened: shortly before the war the flagman navigator himself was arrested, therefore he understood well that accusations could be false.

I got to an absolutely different ship: a mobilized sweep vessel. It had 2 small guns and carried out patrol service at the entrance of Kola bay. That ship was an easy target. Flying back after an unfortunate bombardment of Murmansk, German airplanes always had an opportunity to bomb our vessel. A lot of such trawlers went down, but we were lucky. One day we received a radiogram: to the north they found a boat going full stream and carrying 50 people, more dead than alive (they were from a bombed-out convoy). We found them, lifted aboard, warmed up, and brought to the hospital. Fifty years later Englishmen, participants of northern convoys, visited Leningrad. I spoke at that meeting and told that story. A month later I received a letter from England from one of those rescued guys. We are in touch now.

At that ship I was the only professional soldier. I served there 8 months. I am not going to bore you with technical details, I’ll tell you only that I noticed certain disorders in navigation system and informed the flagman navigator. They set eyes on me and sent me from the trawler to a fighting ship. Later I started serving on board the Razumny torpedo boat and served there till the end of the war. I finished war as a captain of the torpedo boat.

During the war, I never came across manifestations of anti-Semitism. By the way at our School there were 7-8 Jews for 1,000 cadets. Among crew members there were few Jews, too. My comrades, who were not naval, told me that there were manifestations of anti-Semitism. But of course state anti-Semitism took place: both I and people around me came across it. 

So the war was finished. I was awarded 4 orders: Orders of the Great Patriotic War both 1st and 2nd Class 19 and 2 Orders of the Red Star 20. I have got more than 20 medals. After the end of the war I served 2 more years at the same torpedo boat: we trained sailors and arranged group firing.

Due to some reasons my first marriage was broken. In 1947 I married Lubov Mironovna Vovsi. Lubov Mironovna was born in Moscow in 1925. She graduated from the Physics Faculty of the Moscow University and worked in Leningrad at the Television Institute.

After the war

After the capture of Berlin I was granted leave of absence. By that time my parents and my sister had moved to Moscow, and father got a job at glassworks near Moscow. That factory was very close to Moscow. On May 9, 1945 we went to Manezhnaya square joining the crowd of triumphant Muscovites. My sister invited her friend Lubov. My sister was very cheerful and she invented the following entertainment for me: she bought 13 theater tickets admitting self and friend each and invited one of her friends for each performance. Lubov Mironovna was one of those girls and it was our 2nd meeting. At first I was only polite and entertained the girls with cakes. It was rather difficult for me, because I did not know the names of those cakes. One of my dates asked me about an éclair, and I had no idea what it looked like.

In 1947 I entered the Naval Academy named after Voroshilov in Leningrad. It was not an easy task, because there was a large entry, but I managed. I was a very good cadet. Among other subjects they taught us bases of Marxism and Leninism (of course!). And I made the most terrible boner: discussing the works of communist scholars (Lenin 21, in particular) I called one of his books (I do not know why!) notorious. I meant nothing, but it appeared to be enough to expel me from the Party. Thanks to efforts of my wife’s father professor Miron Semenovich Vovsi [Miron Semenovich (Meir Solomonovich) Vovsi (1897-1960) was a Soviet therapist, Major-General of medical service. During the war he was the chief therapist of the army. Vovsi was arrested during the Doctors’ Plot 22, but discharged after the case was closed.], the punishment was changed into an easier one: I was transferred from a Party member to a candidate Party member. It meant that they permitted me to finish my studies. I graduated from the Academy with excellent grades (all fives), but they gave me a four for the diploma. You see if I got a five for the diploma, they would have been obliged to inscribe my name on the marble board in the Academy lobby, but it was impossible for a person just expelled from the communist party. I was appointed a teacher at the Engineering Academy. It was not good for a career of a naval officer. I worked there a year, and wrote my first book. But there came 1952.

In 1952 parents of my wife were arrested in connection with Doctors’ Plot. As for me, I was expelled from the Party once more, fired and transferred to the reserve. At that time my wife worked at the Leningrad Television Institute. She was fired, too. By that time we had got 2 children: my son born in my first wedlock (in 1941) and our mutual son (born in 1949). We sent our children to my parents and were waiting for arrest every minute. I started searching for work (we were out of money and sold books, things). At first I was naïve enough to try to find work connected with my profession. I was well educated, people everywhere wanted to give me a job, but only until I named my wife. I was turned down at all special educational institutions, then at all schools. Later I simplified the problem: I wanted to work as (for example) a steersman on a small boat. And they said ‘How can we trust you to steer the boat if your father-in-law is the main murderer!’ They also did not permit me to study at trolleybus courses. I was offered to work as a tugboat captain, but only upon condition of my divorce. It was not good for me. I happened to meet my friend, a captain of torpedo boat. He had also been transferred to the reserve, but his reason was much more honorable: hard drinking. When we met, he held a post of the captain at the Leningrad fishing fleet. He promised to help me and took me to their director, whom I told everything openly. The director gave me the job of time-table clerk, but promised to fire me immediately in case somebody got to know about details of my biography. I also tried to find job for Lubov: I brought her texts for translation and she did it. But she never signed her translations.

At last Stalin died. In prison father of my wife was told that they would discharge him in a few days. They asked him whether he had a wish. He said he wanted to know about the destiny of his relatives. He got the following answer: ‘Don’t worry about your wife: she is WITH US, and we will find out about your daughter.’ We got to know about it much later. And when Stalin died, my wife cried: she was sure that execution of her father would take place very soon. My director told me ‘Do you remember that we have to fulfill our condition? Yesterday I was asked about you by NKVD 23 representatives. Please bring your resignation.’ I did it, but unexpectedly our trade union did not agree with my discharge. By the way, when they expelled me from the Party I appealed to the Party superiors against their decision and later forgot about it. After Stalin's death, they invited me to Moscow and informed that my appeal had been considered and my position in the Party was redeemed. Next day I was appointed a deputy chief of staff, squadron in Tallinn. The post was the most enviable, but at that time I warmed to my work at the Academy and wanted to return there. But the Academy chief said ‘So many people danced on your bones, it will be difficult for you to work together. Come back a year later.’

So I left for Tallinn. I served there 3 years. My family remained in Leningrad; therefore I lived in my cabin on board the ship. I served easily: in fact I had recently graduated from the Academy and wrote 2 books while working at the Krylov Academy. My scientific background was impressive. Those books were very useful to me during my service in Tallinn. Besides I was surrounded by people I got acquainted with during the war. The chief of the staff was my comrade (we studied at the same Academy). Rather quickly I gained authority and it became clear that I was the right man in the right place. You remember that I arrived to Tallinn being an associate party member. In a year I had to be promoted from associate to full membership. A year passed, but the chief of our political department said it was necessary to wait a year more. I quickly understood what the point was. At that time Beriya 24 was arrested. My wife’s father Miron Vovsi remembered that it was Beriya himself who congratulated him on the occasion of his discharge and called him a free person after Stalin’s death. And I was unwary enough to tell someone about it. Therefore Beriya’s arrest cast an imputation on my character. That was the tragicomedy of my personal contact with Beriya. I was promoted from associate to full Party membership half-year later.

In 1956 I was suggested promotion in Kamchatka. But I decided to return to Leningrad and be engaged in scientific and pedagogical activities. I got good characteristics and returned to Krylov Academy to work at a scientific group. There I wrote a book about new vintages of ships and defended my kandidat nauk dissertation basing on it. [The kandidat nauk is a scientific degree in the USSR and in Russia; it is given to college graduates, who managed to  pass through special examinations and defended their dissertation in public.] During presentation of my thesis everything was going fine, but suddenly the chief of our political department (those bodies always liked me very much!) asked me what I had been expelled from the Party for. I explained everything. He said it was clear to him and sat down. But unfortunately his question was a signal to start persecution. It manipulated the voting and the vote was negative. The Academy chief made a helpless gesture and said ‘I do not understand the members of our academic scientific council.’ In the meantime my book was published. It turned out comic: the dissertation was blocked, but the book was published. Moreover at that time many ships were constructed directly according to my book. The Academy chief invited me and said ‘It is time to finish, get ready for the second time.’ And I defended my thesis without a dissentient voice. All those events took a year. I do not regret: I worked very well.

Illness of my father-in-law professor Vovsi was another tragedy for our family. He was diagnosed with cancer. He was one of the best doctors of his time, and he himself predicted he would die not later than in 8 months. Naturally he wanted his daughter to be beside him. He asked my consent to be moved to Moscow. I could not refuse though my service was a dream of service. So I started working at the Navy Staff in Moscow. Together with my wife and 2 children (our younger son Mikhail was born in 1956) we made our abode with my parents-in-law. My elder son Alexander remained in Leningrad (by that time he was a student of the 3rd course, Polytechnic College). In the Navy Staff I served at the operations department (the most secret one), and I was the only Jew there. Perhaps that was the reason why they moved me to another department: Navy Scientific Committee. They did it nicely, and reasoned that it was necessary to satisfy the requirements of my own scientific interests.

In 1960 my father-in-law died. His death was a great loss not only for his relatives, but also for medicine. His patients carried his coffin to the grave in their arms. I am sure that his arrest hastened his death. About a year later I was suddenly deprived of the access permit. They gave me no explanations, but I was sure that the point was in the state anti-Semitism (at that time it flourished everywhere). I felt annoyed with all that, called KGB 25 (Navy representative) and asked for an audience. I met there a polite naval officer. I showed him the list of my scientific articles and he said ‘You are a research worker, why do you work at the Navy Staff?’ I explained that it was not my idea: I had to work there because of my father-in-law’s illness. The officer agreed that it altered the case. Finally I managed to return to the Krylov Academy. There were also some difficulties with accommodation, but the problem was settled. My mother-in-law refused to move with us and remained in Moscow. We returned to Leningrad together with my wife and 2 children.

There I needed an access permit (I lost it in Moscow) and received it rather quickly. I understood that that person from KGB helped me. I worked in the Academy from 1962 till 1973. I worked successfully, wrote several books more and got a doctor's degree. In 1973 I was 55 years old: it was time to retire. I got demobilized, but did not want to sit at home. I started searching for work. I made a name for myself both in scientific and educational spheres of life. I decided to become a teacher at a college. But it was not so easy: not everyone wanted to have a competitor at their faculty. As a result I found a job at the Institute of Methods and Management Technique (it was organized for improvement of professional skill in the field of new computer technique): my last 5 years at the Academy were connected with computer equipment. I worked with pleasure, taught, and was engaged in scientific work. Five years later I became a head of the department of Automated Control Systems. I worked there 23 years (till 2001). The atmosphere there was very friendly. I managed to write 2 books more and a great number of articles. I also often went on business trips, participated in various conferences. But Perestroika came. It was followed by collapse of the USSR. Many institutes decayed, but our institute managed to survive, though it changed much.

My children's life

Now I’ll tell you about our children. All my sons grew up as lovers of mathematics. My elder son Alexander was born in 1941. He was a very gifted boy. He finished his school with a gold medal, studied at the Polytechnic College and was going to be transferred to the University. But at the age of 22 he drowned in Siberia during a camping trip. My younger sons graduated from the mathematics faculty of the University. At present they are experts in the theory of probability. Boris (born in 1949) finished a school specialized in mathematics with a gold medal. It was impossible for a person with our surname to enter the University, but we decided to try. At the first examination (mathematics) he got not a good mark (three). We knew that it was absolutely impossible to enter the University having three among examination marks. Mark Bashmakov, the former teacher at Boris’ school helped us very much (by that moment he worked at the University). He advised that Boris should pass through other examinations, and later address commission of appeal (the commission had to check fairness of evaluation of student’s knowledge).

It was a very wise advice: Boris got fives for all other subjects (these marks were given fairly, because all the teachers knew that it was impossible to become a student having three). Then my son addressed the commission of appeal and his examination-paper was adjudged to be worth a five. Boris graduated from the University and tried to become a postgraduate student, but got three for Marxism-Leninism and did not manage to enter. To have a Jew as a postgraduate student was too much for the University! At that time Mark Bashmakov worked at the Leningrad Electrotechnical College. He invited Boris to work with him. Boris agreed with gratitude. By the way Mark played a large part in my life. I’ll tell you about it later. Boris has been working at the Leningrad Electrotechnical College as a senior lecturer till now. He has two daughters.

My younger son Mikhail was born in 1956. At present he is a professor of the University, he is a mathematician too, and he devoted himself to the theory of probability. He also graduated from the mathematical faculty of the University. He has three children.

Recent years

One day in 1991 or in 1992 Mark Bashmakov (I already told you about him) called me and said that in Italy he got acquainted with a Russian emigrant Vladimir Ladyzhensky. Ladyzhensky wanted to arrange assistance to Russia. Mark considered me able to participate in the project on the part of Russia. Vladimir arrived to our Institute, examined everything, appreciated our new equipment and told that we fully answered his requirements. His purpose was to create small centers for raising the level of professional skill. He wanted to create one of such centers on the basis of our Institute and make me its director. He managed. I gathered good and strong team. Our project was approved in all higher echelons. During the first year project participants went abroad on long business trips.

The first city we visited was Rome. Certainly I was shocked by the beauty of Rome, but regarding our business Italians could teach us nothing (I understood it immediately). Our level was very good and it was a pleasure. You see, the Iron Curtain 26 rose recently and we had no opportunity to compare the levels. Our next trip was to London. There we visited World ORT computer laboratory. [World ORT is a non-governmental organization whose mission is the advancement of Jewish people through training and education, with past and present activities in over 100 countries.] It was very interesting and useful, and we learned much there.

Our project was a success, and I enjoyed popularity. I was invited to participate in another joint international project. Later I organized them myself. Well, I have been wandering around Europe about 9 years. At the same time I did not stop my work as a teacher and faculty head. At present I go on arranging similar projects, but now I do it on the basis of the Polytechnic College.

In 2001 I left the post of department chair at the Institute of Methods and Management Technique, but continued working there as a consulting professor. On the basis of the Institute I created a system of distance education.

In our family we never discussed the question of departure to Israel (neither we, nor our children).

Before 1937 it was possible to speak about merits and demerits of the Soviet regime. But after 1937 all merits were made null and void by demerits. I estimated all political events sensibly. I was on the side of Hungarians during the Hungarian revolution 27 and on the side of Czechs during the Prague spring 28. But I was a conformist, I did not protest on the Red Square. [On August 28, 1968 eight Soviet dissidents came to the Red Square to protest against the USSR armies in Prague.] I think that Gorbachev 29 was a great politician: he disorganized the communist system. It seems to me that he did much more for the country, than Yeltsin. [Yeltsin Boris (1931-2007) was the first President of the Russian Federation. He was elected on June 12, 1991.] He was alone fighting against the Soviet authorities.

I do not participate in the Jewish life of Petersburg. Lubov Mironovna sometimes receives food packages there.

Glossary:

I, Lyudmila Samuilovna Matsina (before marriage - Levit),
was born on December 24, 1932 in Leningrad.

My parents lived in the 2-nd Sovetskaya Street then, where as early as in 1924
the family of my grandmother and her sister Vera with children settled.

 
The times, certainly, were difficult, but I, beeing a child, certainly didn’t feel it,
as I was a sole child who survived (before me Mum had two babies, the first was born dead
and the second girl died at the age of six months). Everyone was nursing me, and you could tell everything was done for me.

Grandmother was staying at home, and there was a housemaid, too.

My family background

During the war

After the war

Marriage life

Recent years

My family background

My grandfather on the mother’s side - Leib Meerovich Golshmid [the correct spelling is Golshmid, according to the documents. Most probably, the original surname Goldshmidt was changed in the course of time], - was born in the Ukraine in 1872, in the town of Smele, or Shpole, because he is registered in Mum’s birth certificate as "Shpole resident". His family was rather well-to-do. Grandmother Rachel Moiseevna Golshmid (nee Eiderman) was also born somewhere in the Ukraine in 1881. Then it was Kiev province, and now it is the Poltava region. The parents proposed them to each other, before that they hadn’t met. As it was customary in Jewish communities back then, they were proposed to each other, but I am unaware about the details. But when they got acquainted, they fell in love with each other from the first sight and lived happily all their life. Grandmother died in 1944, in evacuation, grandfather - in 1947. I haven’t been to Shpole, I only now about this Jewish settlement from my mother’s birth certificate. I only know that her father was a Shpole resident – nothing else, unfortunately.

They arrived to live in St. Petersburg in 1904. But the first to come here was my grandmother’s father. He was registered as a merchant of the second guild. I found it out in the directory " All Petrograd " for 1915. At first Grandfather worked in the Kalashnikov stock exchange, near the Lavra. He was an expert in flour. As a commercial traveler (or commission agent – that is what written in the directory) he bought and sold flour, traveling extensively. And my grandmother, naturally, was a housewife. Then grandfather served in St. Petersburg as an assistant of the manager of Bligken-Robinson confectionery factory, where the managerial position was held by the husband of grandmother’s elder sister Vera. All of them together lived in Vozdvizhenskaya Street (nowadays Tyushin Street), not far from Obvodny Channel. They had rather a large apartment there. The family was well-provided for. During the elections before 1917, - as grandmother told me - they voted for the party of Constitutional Democrats  (what kind of party it was?)… Before the revolution they used to go for vacations to Dubelnya near Riga (now the place is called Dublty), then - to the village of Martyshkino in the vicinity of St. Petersburg. They hired maids. Children, while they were small, were basically taken care of by the nurse, later – by a governess.

Grandfather and grandmother spoke basically Russian, but Yiddish they also knew well and sometimes spoke this language too. Grandmother Rachel was a fashionable woman and wore beautiful dresses and jewelry. Of course she would not put on a kerchief or a wig. They were not especially religious. And they did not go to the synagogue on Saturdays, even on big holidays. But some traditions they did observe. I remember that grandmother never gave us milk after meat.  Kashrut was an inherent feature of Grandfather’s and Grandmother’s everyday life. But, in other respects they were not religious people – Grandmother didn’t wear the wigs, nor did she attend to the synagogue or pray. Grandfather worked in the chocolate factory and I have no idea of his religious life.

The wife of Grandfather’s younger brother also had endured enormous hardships in her life. Her name was Eugenia, her last surname was Zolotareva [her last husband’s family name]. Mother’s uncle left her with a daughter, and a bit later, in 1930s, she married a German engineer, who worked in Leningrad under a contract. But when his contract was over, he left to his Fatherland, and she stayed here and in 1937 she was arrested. Above all, she was a teacher of the German language, and thus they charged her of being a German spy. I think it was in 1938, when Beria [People’s Commissar of Internal Affairs] let people out of prisons, she was released. I do not remember precisely, but I know that by 1941 she was free. And when the war began, she was immediately arrested again and put in the chamber for prisoners condemned to death penalty. But she was a very tough, strong-willed woman and got through all that, although her legs failed her [became paralyzed] there, in that prison camp, and she could not walk. This is what probably saved her life, because she was not able to do that terribly exhausting physical labor.  They released her in 1946, and she came to us, to the 2nd Sovetskaya Street in a quilted jacket, looking awfully. And she was officially prohibited from coming to Leningrad, because those subjected to repressions were banned from living in metropolitan cities. She was hiding at our place. One late evening we heard a doorbell, and Aunt Zhenya seized her quilted jacket and rushed to the lavatory and locked the door from the inside – so that nobody could find her. Being a spiritually strong woman she later recovered, received a contract proposal and went somewhere to the North to work. She got married again there, and earned herself a good pension. She died a long time ago, too.

Grandmother’s brother David Moiseevich and his wife Eva Abramovna lost both their sons during the Great Patriotic War. Misha was killed in the fights over Nevskaya Dubrovka, though for a long time he was considered lost, his death was not really confirmed. Aunt Eva waited for him until her death. His elder brother Sasha was wounded at the front and  died in hospital of wounds.

There was some craving for Ukraine left in Grandmother’s soul - she taught me Ukrainian songs, but she didn’t teach me Jewish songs for some reason. They seldom traveled to the Ukraine afterwards, only on short visits. My grandfather’s parents lived there. He was a manager of some business here, I don’t know precisely! When the revolution began, my mother’s parents - grandmother and grandfather - lived in Petrograd, but in 1918 famine began here. Therefore they  left to the Ukraine to their relatives. I recollect Mum telling me, that when after the Petrograd starvation they found themselves in that family farm of their Ukrainian kin, they were simply astounded: geese, chicken, turkeys, cows … In the Ukraine in 1918-20 they survived through the onslaughts of Makhno and Petlura bandits, Denikin Army attacks and the related pogroms.

My grandfather’s younger brother Yasha Golshmid served in the imperial army and was killed in 1915, during the First World War, somewhere in the territory of Prussia and was buried in a Jewish cemetery.

Another younger brother of Grandfather, Nison Golshmid (but they always called him Nikolay Markovich) was a student of the Moscow conservatory and participated in operas as a supernumerary. He lived in Moscow both after the revolution and after the Great Patriotic War. He had not become a singer, because his wife would not permit  him to do so, and he worked for a very long time in one and the same place – as a sales director for one factory. He died in the 1980s in Moscow. He had one daughter Victoria, who had graduated from a college of law and worked in the Supreme Court.

My grandfather’s elder brother (I do not know his name) emigrated to America in the 1920s. Grandfather had sisters as well, but I know nothing about them.

My mother Аida Leibovna Levit (nee Golshmid) was born in 1906 in St.Petersburg. Before revolution, in lower classes, she studied in the well-known female Stayuninskaya grammar school. She was telling me about that grammar school with delight, that there was good order and, by the way, no anti-Semitism ever existed. One of the subjects was the Law of God, and the Jews were allowed to skip those lessons. And in general there was no anti-Semitism in the attitudes of people with whom my grandmother and grandfather communicated. Anti-Semitism in their circle in general was considered a shame. A person who showed any sign of anti-Semitism, was simply announced a boycott. After the revolution, in 1924, Mum  finished a school in Petrograd that was located in the building of the former 1-st grammar school for boys in Kabinetskaya Street (now Pravdy Street).

Mother and her cousin Abram Isaevich Zlobinsky entered the Leningrad University. But they both were dismissed from the university - as persons of bourgeois origin. Abram became a journalist, for a long time worked in "The Red Newspaper" and took a pseudonym Lukian Piterskoi. And mother entered the Leningrad Institute of Municipal Construction Engineers which was then referred to as LIIKS, and later it merged with the Institute of Civil Engineers.

Mum had two brothers. The elder, Semen Leibovich Golshmid, was born in 1902. During the Great Patriotic War he was severely wounded and lost his leg.  He died in 1948 in Leningrad. Her second brother - Alexander, born in 1909, also was a participant of the Great Patriotic War, and received a heavy contusion in the fights in Nevskaya Dubrovka. After the war he worked as an engineer and designer.  He died in 1980.

The name of my grandfather on father’s side was Berk Levit, and in everyday life they called him Boris Petrovich. He died in 1944 in the city of Minyar, Kuibyshev region. Grandmother’s name was Frida, her maiden name, I think, was Kunina – I can remember it somehow. She died in Leningrad in 1949. Unfortunately, I know almost nothing about them. Unfortunately I know almost nothing about this Grandfather, where he worked or what he did, because nobody informed me about that, and I myself was not interested while being small.

My Daddy Samuil Berkovich Levit was born in Simferopol in 1904. Their family was also rather rich - they owned a house, I think in Kanatnaya Street. As a boy Daddy, it seems, went to Cheder, but I do not know for sure. Then he studied in a vocational school, in the commercial department. In 1929 Daddy graduated from the Institute of Civil Engineers in Leningrad and was assigned to Murmansk, the city under construction then. Daddy was one of the first builders and designers of that city. But Mum fell ill with tuberculosis there, and they had to return to Leningrad. Mum got acquainted with Daddy during the students’ practical training session in Kronstadt and they got married in 1928. Parents didn’t tell me anything about their wedding, I don’t even have any photos of this event. Maybe there weren’t any wedding at all, they could have just register their marriage with state bodies or live in civil marriage.

Daddy’s elder sister Rachel worked in the Crimean Komsomol, was a very loyal Komsomol member, and consequently named my cousin, born in 1922, in honour of Inessa Armand [a prominent Bolshevik figure], and after the death of Lenin renamed her Lenina. The father of Inessa-Lenina was a writer by name Gorev. Before the war, they performed his play "On the banks of Neva" in Alexandrinsky Theatre in Leningrad. He died in the middle of the 1970s, and Aunt - in 1936, of cancer.

Also, Daddy had a sister Fenya, but what her occupation was, I do not know. Her husband Yosya worked at a defense factory, therefore they were evacuated to Sverdlovsk in 1941 and never came back to Leningrad any more.

Father’s sister Sonya named her son Rem – the abbreviation for  "revolution, electrification, peace". Sonya also was an ardent Komsomol member, as well as her husband Nikandr (in general we called him Kolya), but actually he was Nikandr Kuzin. Uncle Kolya at that time was the chief of construction of Pre-Baltic Electric Power Station, deputy of the Supreme Council of Estonia, they lived in Narva, and died in Pushkin, when they were retired.

Daddy’s younger brother Abram, too, was an active Komsomol member. He was the Komsomol leader of the steel-casting shop in a factory. Then he worked as a deputy director of a large factory in Gatchina. He also died rather young, approximately in 1976.

Until 1941, all Daddy's relatives lived in Leningrad, but the war scattered them over to different places.

During the war

Before the war, our family lived rather well financially. Daddy worked as an engineer and architect in a design organization and, probably, earned good money. When the war began, we were in our summer residence in Sestroretsk, but returned to the city in a rush. Soon Daddy was enlisted in the army, and Mum was urgently sent to a business trip, and I stayed with my relatives. In the summer of 1942 Daddy came and took me to Udmurtia, the city of Izhevsk, where Mum was already waiting for me. We lived in the Tatar family, nobody spoke Russian, except for the elder daughter. There was no furniture in this log hut - pillows and blankets were just piled up in the corner and were picked up for the night. We slept in our clothes, without any linen … Mum and me lived in a narrow room, separated from the landlord’s room with a partition not reaching the ceiling, the light bulb was only in master's "half".

The level of life in evacuation was extremely low, Mum was sick with tuberculosis, but all the same worked somewhere and received some trifling compensation. Actually we lived on father’s certificate and had some vegetables from our kitchen garden, which we planted. In the autumn of 1943, when Oryol and Smolensk were liberated, Daddy was sent there for mine clearing operations - he first studied the craft at some courses and trained soldiers later. In February 1944 we joined him in the town of Lyudinovo. We lived in a semi-destroyed house, which Daddy restored somehow with the help of his soldiers. Everyone wondered how we could live in it. Then we followed Daddy to the town of Kirovsk of the Kaluga region.

Now, let me tell you a little about how the life of some of our relatives worked out. Mother’s cousin - Aunt Polya Zlobinskaya, with whom they lived together in their childhood in Leningrad in the apartment in the 2-nd Sovetskaya Street, had suffered severe ordeals during the war. She married Yakov Bronshtein in 1930 or a little later. His father was a doctor, and he later moved to live in Kislovodsk, where he became the chief doctor of the Kislovodsk sanatorium. On June 7, 1941 Aunt Polya gave birth to a daughter, and their son was five years old by that time. When the war began, her husband decided to send his wife together with his two kids and a nurse, to his father in Kislovodsk – as far as possible from the war. But as you know, in 1942 the Germans broke through to the Caucasus and seized all the Caucasian area, the entire region. They issued an order for all Jews to come to a certain place with their belongings. But Aunt Polya said that she wouldn’t go there with her children. Her father-in-law started assuring her, that Germans were not brutal beasts, that he finished a medical faculty in Germany and perfectly knew Germans and did not believe in all those ball yarns about Germans. He and his wife, as well as his younger daughter and others - the family was quite large - all set off to this assembly point, and, of course, everyone was shot. And Aunt Polya  started to roam round and about because they couldn’t stay in one place, for the neighbours knew that they were from Bronshtein family, and could report to the German authorities. So she kept rambling from town to town, leaving her children with the nurse, a Russian, Marusya by name, who gave out the kids either for her own children, or for her nephews. Aunt Polya went rambling from place to place, from Essentuki to Pyatigorsk, from Pyatigorsk to Essentuki and back, because otherwise she would have to check in in the German Commandant's office. She gave herself out for an Armenian woman, wore only black clothes, wrapped with a kerchief up to her very eyes. And once an elderly German on a horse cart overtook her on the road. He looked at her and asked: "Sie sind Jude?". " Nein! Nein!" - Aunt Polya uttered. And he said “OK” and brought her to Essentuki …to the Commandant's office, because she even had no place to spend the night. From Commandant's office she was sent somewhere to spend the night. In general, that’s how they stayed alive. Thanks to the nurse, her children survived, too. But after the war, when my aunt returned to Leningrad, she couldn’t find a job, because those who had been on the occupied territories, wouldn’t be hired anywhere.

After the war

Mum and me returned to Leningrad in August 1945, and Daddy still stayed in army, he was demobilized in 1946. During the war I continued to study, and at all schools I was an excellent pupil. But when we returned, Mum was given advice that I should proceed not in the 6th, but in the 5th form: "We know, how they teach in this evacuation!" But Mum persuaded them, and I didn’t lose one year because of the war. I continued to study at school 175 in the 2nd Sovetskaya Street, where before the war I managed to finish the first year. At our school nobody was in the slightest degree interested, who was Russian and who was Jewish, however, the two of my nearest friends were Jewish. I finished school with a silver medal in 1950. I had no special propensities to anything. And, following my father's path, I entered LISI - the Leningrad Institute of Construction Engineering. Those were the terrible years of 1952 and 1953. In those years, the last years of Stalin’s rule, there was an onslaught of anti-Semitism in the country. Jews were fired from work in enterprises and factories, they were banned from entering higher school institutions. Propaganda was claiming that Jews were the nation of “poisoners” – meaning the medical doctors from the notorious “Doctors’ Case”, fabricated by Stalin’s companions-in-arms in 1952. But in our students’ environment there wasn't a trace of anti-Semitism. But I remember, that when my relatives learned that Jews were going to be exiled, Mum burnt all the photos of our American relatives - Grandfather’s elder brother, who left for America in 1920s, and his letters, because everyone was scared of the worst. But nothing happened. God was merciful to us.

Marriage life

In 1955 I married Yuri Matsin. He, as well as I, entered LISI in 1950, the evening branch, and came to day-time lecture sometimes, participated in amateur art performances, but I had other company then, and we did not pay much attention to each other. And in 1954, when he returned after service in the fleet and continued studies, - from the second term of the first year, - we got really acquainted at some party, before November holidays, and in 1955 we were already a husband and wife.

The biography of my husband, as he puts it, is very "striped". He was born in Leningrad in 1931 - his father Zakhar Nikolaevich Matsin (Zakhary Nisonov) turned 54 then.  My husband’s entire childhood was connected with theatre. When he was very small, his father – a graduate of the Saint Petersburg conservatory, took him to Mariinsky theatre, behind the scenes, and the first ballet that he saw was "The Nutcracker ". Later, during the war, in Perm, where the actors of Mariinsky theatre were evacuated, Yuri, as a boy, performed in children chorus of the theatre, sang in " The Queen of Spades " and in many other performances. At the end of the war he entered a choreographic school, but, unfortunately, or - fortunately, he felt that he had no calling for that profession, and shifted to a comprehensive school, after ending of which entered the Leningrad Institute of Construction Engineering. From the first year in the institute he was taken to the army – where he served four years in the Fleet. Then he graduated from LISI and became a mechanical engineer. And the life of an ordinary Soviet Jew with all the following consequences began.
He had encountered manifestations of anti-Semitism in the army, where he served in the most difficult years: from 1951 to 1954. He was the secretary of Komsomol organization of the ship, very active. And, from his words, the Deputy Commander on political education put much pressure on him, especially in 1954, when Yuri, being "a Komsomol figure", wanted to join the Communist Party. The Deputy Commander assured Yuri that he is never going to become a party member … And it was clear that reason was "a wrong nationality". A year earlier, when the so-called "Doctors’ affair" emerged, the sailors on the ship started to sing all sorts of anti-Semitic songs. Yuri expressed his discontent to the Deputy Commander, but the answer was that the guys were just fooling around, and no measures at all were taken.

Recent years

After graduation from the institute my husband tried several times to get a job in organizations that were considered "closed" [working on secret projects] - and each time he was rejected, in spite of the fact that he was a very well trained specialist. And later on, all his attempts to get an employment failed, - in 1961 he had been to almost all serious companies in the city. In the long last he acquired a position in a small firm

After graduation from the high school I spent much effort to try and stay in Leningrad:  I was lucky that my husband still continued to study in the Institute. I went to work in the Institute of Refractories, worked there for about one year, but fell seriously ill and had to go to Essentuki for medical treatment. They wouldn’t give me a leave from work – I hadn’t worked enough by then yet, so they offered to discharge me, and promised to take me back later. But they didn’t hire me again - the boss who promised it was gone by then. And that’s where my hardships began. I could not find a job for more than one year. It was in 1956, when some British-Egyptian conflict took place. I would come to this or that institute, and they would tell me that they need project engineers … And when I brought the filled questionnaire, they were telling me that the situation had changed, staff reduced, etc. In this way I had been to 5-6 organizations and everywhere I heard the same answer. I tried TEP, too ("Heat and Power Supply Projecting Company"), and also was given a questionnaire to fill in - and again the same standard answer. The director of that institute was father’s friend; Daddy called him, but he said: "There’s nothing I can do.  Employment issues are the responsibility of the 1-st [security] department and personnel manager, and I can not speak up against them". The reason was completely clear to me. 

At the long last, I managed to get a job in a design institute of the 2-nd category, where they paid the lowest salaries. It was located in Poltavskaya Street, in a basement, - conditions were awful. It was called "Giprocommunstroi" [State institute for projecting communal infrastructure]. They designed waterpipes and sewer stations there. The collective was good, and I learned a lot there, having worked until 1963. Then I had to leave because we moved to another location. In 1965 I started to work in "Giprospetsgaz" [State institute for projecting gas pipes and equipment] - my daddy worked there for many years as chief project engineer, and he helped me to get the job with much effort. In that design organization I worked until retirement.

In my life I have designed and built many objects. They include the Northern and Southern water supply stations in Leningrad, reservoirs, gas pipelines, in particular Leningrad - Vyborg - State border with Finland, gas pipeline Ukhta-Torzhok, various compressor stations

My parents lived in Pushkin from 1966. Daddy had to retire rather early to take care of the diseased mother. She died in 1970. And Daddy died in 1986, and during a few years before his death he went to the synagogue on holidays, though he had never been a religious person.

I have never been to Israel and I can’t possibly say anything about my attitude to this country. As for political parties, - I have never joined any of them.

[Lyudmila Samuilovna has a very weak health and it prevents her from communicating with many people. Traditionally, her husband and she annualy go to the cemetery where her parents are burried in the town of Pushkin not far from Saint Petersburg. The interior of their flat is quite typical of a family of Saint Petersburg intellectuals: lots of books, a piano, an old computer. The spouses have no children, but they are very fond of each other and grieve that they have no one to pass the little information they have about their ancestors.]

Boris Iofik
Russia
St. Petersburg
Interviewer Olga Egudina
October 2007

I met Boris Iofik in his more than modest one-room apartment in 
one of the new districts of St. Petersburg. 

He lives alone.
The only living soul in his apartment except the owner is his parrot. 

Boris Moisseevich is not easy to be interviewed. His modesty is the reason. 
Boris had to pass through terrible ordeals: partisan group, blockade of Leningrad, 
evacuation, and front, but he sincerely considers to have performed no exploits, nothing special. 

Even now, when Boris leaves his apartment to do the shopping with great difficulties
(he feels the weight of years and the serious wound received at the front-line), 
he tries to do his best helping his neighbors.

• My family background
• Growing up
• During the war
• After the war
• Glossary

• My family background

I remember neither my great-grandmothers nor my great-grandfathers. To tell the truth, I also can tell nothing about my grandmothers and grandfathers. Once in my life I saw my maternal grandmother, but I do not remember her. I only know that my mother’s parents came from Opochka. [Opochka is situated 130 km far from Pskov.]

I was born on June 18, 1924 in Pskov. My parents lived in Opochka, but Mom went to Pskov to give birth. Pskov was rather big city (a regional center), and she expected medical service to be better there.

My Mom’s name was Rakhel Zalmanovna, I am sorry not to remember her maiden name. She was born approximately in 1900 and died in 1958 in Leningrad. My father’s name was Moissey Borissovich Iofik. He was born also approximately in 1900. I do not remember the place where my parents were born. But I know that they got acquainted and married in Opochka. All her life long Mom was a housewife. She finished only a secondary school. Father studied somewhere, but I do not remember where. He worked in distribution network. In Opochka he was a seller, and later in Leningrad he became a shop manager. He took part in the Soviet-Finnish war 1 and managed to come home alive.

Later father was mobilized and took part in the Great Patriotic War 2, though by that time he was already not a young man. He perished at the front-line in 1944 somewhere in Estonia. Before that he was wounded and spent a lot of time in hospital. He sent us photographs from the hospital. Later he left the hospital and was sent to the front-line again. In 1944 we received a notification that he had died a hero's death.

• Growing up

So I was born in Pskov, but my native city (a city of my childhood) was Opochka. It is situated 140 kilometers far from Pskov. Velikaya, the most beautiful and the biggest river of Pskov region runs in Opochka. Our city was provincial, very cozy and clean. Most roads were paved. We lived there in a big apartment. Mother’s brother and sister (i.e. my uncle and aunt) lived together with us. I remember nothing about them, including their names. But I know that during the war Germans executed them by shooting.

Many years later I went on an excursion to Pushkinskiye Gory. [Pushkinskiye Gory is a settlement in Pskov region, a memorial place of Pushkin, famous Russian poet.] From there I went to Opochka by bus. I wanted to find the place of mass execution of Jews, but unfortunately I did not manage.

My sister Zhanna was born in Opochka in 1920. She got no special education (only a secondary school). She studied in Opochka, and continued in Leningrad. Later Zhanna worked as a technician at some institution. She was married, but had got no children. My sister died in 2004 in St. Petersburg. Since our childhood we were not very close: we had different friends, different circles of acquaintance.

In Opochka there lived many Jews. They lived not separately; there were no special Jewish residential areas. Jews were engaged in different professions, I mean there were no specific Jewish occupations.

I do not know why father decided to leave Opochka for Leningrad. We moved in 1930, when I was only 6 years old. My uncle and aunt remained in Opochka and died there. For a short period of time we lived in the suburb of Leningrad (in a small settlement, I do not remember its name), but then arrived in Leningrad. We settled in a communal apartment 3 in the city centre. Father worked, and Mom kept the house. Our apartment was very large: a lot of families lived there.

Mom worked hard at home: in communal apartments neighbors were on duty in turn. It meant that each family had to clean the apartment during a certain period of time: a week per each family member. We were 4, therefore Mom had to clean the kitchen, the long-long corridor, the bathroom, the toilet the whole month. She also had to solve all the problems with food: it was not easy to buy food (because of its shortage). Mom often had to stand in line to buy this or that. Don’t forget that at that time there were food cards 4! I remember that some time later we moved to another apartment: also communal and also very large. I lived in communal apartments till 1985, when authorities gave me this flat (it happened because I was a disabled former soldier). And Mom remained a housewife till my father’s death. After that she started working as a news vendor.

I became a schoolboy in Leningrad. My school was very good. It was situated rather far from our house: it was necessary to cross several busy streets, but from the very first class nobody saw me off. It seems to me that at that time children were more independent, it was not customary to take too much care of them. I studied well. I was interested in exact science: physics and mathematics. I had got a lot of school friends; unfortunately all of them had already died. I remember our teachers hazily, but I still keep in my mind the face of our form master. I guess I can recognize her if we meet. But, you see now I can meet nobody of them: all of them have already gone!

I remember that our teachers were good. They were serious and respectful towards children. We had no problem during studies: if we did not understand something in class, we had an opportunity to ask for explanation, to have extra studies. Our teachers never refused. On the whole, my school memoirs are pleasant. I remember that we often went to the cinema. We preferred first shows: tickets were much cheaper than in the evening. I did not go in for sports seriously, but we used to play football with boys in our yard. We never had real footballs (for us it was an impermissible luxury), we used some rag balls. I can imagine that at present children would only laugh at our balls! I never was a hooligan; most probably I was as good as pie. I always had a lot of friends: both Russians and Jews. Nationality of my friends was of no importance for me.

Our family was united. I do not remember any conflicts between parents or between parents and children.

Our family had little money, but we were used to good food and dressed with the best. Mom was a very good housewife: she always knew where it was possible to save money. In my opinion, at that time all families were in the same boat, at least the families around us.

At home we had not many books. I remember my father reading a newspaper, but I never saw him or Mom with a book in their hands. As for me, I acquired a taste for reading being already adult. I even finished courses for bookbinders. But I’ll tell you about it later.

I do not remember my parents discussing any political events. Perhaps they were not interested, but probably they did not want to talk about it in presence of children. Therefore I know nothing about their attitude to the communist regime.

My parents were not religious people in full sense of this word. But they celebrated Pesach and Chanukkah every year. Mom usually cooked very tasty gefilte fish and a lot of guests came to our place. It is interesting that we never published the cause of our meetings. Our neighbors thought that we celebrated our family dates. I do not know whether my parents attended a synagogue. For some reason it seems to me that they did, but kept it from children. I guess they were afraid that we could let the secret out: Soviet authorities struggled against religion 5. Yiddish was my parents’ mother tongue, but to tell the truth, they spoke Yiddish only when it was necessary to keep something from me and my sister. Most of my parents’ friends were Jewish.

• During the war

In summer we usually went to Opochka, where my uncle and aunt lived. In summer of 1941 we also were going to visit them, but the war burst out.

In 1941 I finished 9 classes. On June 21 together with my schoolmate Grisha Gilbo we celebrated our birthdays: I was born on June 18, and Grisha on June 21. And next day the war began. Father was mobilized during the first days of war. For me the war began in September 1941, when we together with Grisha joined a voluntary youth partisan group. The staff of the group was situated near to our house: at the Lesgaft College of Physical Culture (in Decabristov Street).

Our group was sent to the area of forthcoming military actions near Volkhov. On our way there Grisha got seriously ill (running temperature, etc.). I did not want to leave my sick friend to his fate, but the commander of our group did no give me his permit to stay with Grisha. We left him at a roadside station. The commander took away his weapon and even his flask of vodka. Grisha remained there alone, and since then nobody knew anything about him. Later after the end of the war his relatives tried to find Grisha or at least some information about him, but failed. I want my memoirs to become a monument to my lost friend…

Our partisan group was placed in earth-houses near the neutral territory: a large mine-field about 2 or 3 kilometers long. Several times a week a person came to pilot us across that field. We usually reached the highway where German and Finnish transport moved, or the railway. We fired at the German columns in march or put explosive under the railway bed.

In December 1941 our group was sent back to Leningrad. We moved along the Road of Life across the Ladoga Lake 6. Trucks with evacuating people were coming in the opposite direction. We saw several trucks breaking through ice into the water together with its passengers…

We returned to the besieged city and I found a job at the Baltic factory as an assistant to the mechanic at boiler shop. I went through all horrors of the hungry and cold winter in the besieged Leningrad. In winter water supply was cut off. Bread ration was scanty. We used to divide the ration into 3 pieces, fried them using a small stove, and ate one piece after another during day time. People who could not keep from eating their bread ration at once, often died.

Hard times came in December and January: bread ration became awful (125 gr). We ate everything we could: coffee grounds (we cooked cakes), leather belts (we boiled them), glue (made jelly). Everybody slept dressed. It became very hard to bring rations home from the shop because of the frequent bombardments. I remember that together with our neighbor we went to the shop to change our ration cards for bread and came under bombardment. A bomb exploded near the house where we stood in line. A lot of people were killed.

It was impossible to get anywhere. Municipal transport was in collapse. People walked (if they were still able to walk!).

Dead citizens were buried not in coffins, but sheeted. Their relatives brought them to the cemetery (if they managed) or left them in the street (if they did not). It was possible to see trucks full of dead bodies piled carelessly.

In February I got ill with dystrophy, but was saved by a miracle. It was Mom who saved me: her love, go-go spirit, and quick wit. To save my life, she sold different things, exchanged, bought food. For example, she changed her gold watch for 5 loaves of bread (she made that bargain with a seller at a baker's shop). Our acquaintance, an engineer from the Kirovsky factory brought us linen oil, and took away good woolen suits of my father and my bicycle. [The Leningrad Kirovsky factory (former Putilovsky factory) was one of the largest machine-building and metallurgical enterprises of the USSR.] I’ll never forget mess of linseed cake and jelly made of joiner's glue: at that time I admired its taste.

Mom set me up, but got ill herself. Later she was evacuated from Leningrad to Sverdlovsk region in a very bad shape. There she lived till the raising of blockade.

But beginning from March 1942 it became a little bit easier: bread ration was increased to 150 gr, and later to 250. Thawing weather frightened us: we expected epidemic diseases. But dystrophic people managed to clear ice and garbage from the streets. Tram resumed operation. In May people sowed lawns with fennel and sorrel to have some vitamins. Some people decocted needles and drank the infusion, but it was not effective.

You see, nevertheless the city went on living and working, though it was covered with wounds and bloodstained. Padded tanks and field guns were repaired; foundry shops of factories went on functioning. Women stepped into men's shoes running machines. The Centre organizing public lectures, advanced training courses for doctors, the Theatre of Musical Comedy, the Philharmonic society, broadcasting resumed their functioning. In August 1942 at the Philharmonic society they arranged premiere of the 7th Leningrad symphony by Shostakovich. [Shostakovich Dmitry (1906-1975) was a great Russian and Soviet composer.] Karl Eliasberg was the conductor. [Eliasberg Karl (1907-1978) was a well-known conductor, famous for leading the orchestra in the besieged Leningrad in 1942.] The house was packed. But it happened already after my departure from Leningrad. I know about it from different people who were present at that historical concert.

Nevertheless in June 1942 when I grew a little bit stronger, I went to the staff of our partisan group again. But the medical board did not give me permit for military service (because of my eye trouble), therefore I left for Sverdlovsk region to my mother. There I worked as a mechanic at the fulling-mill (the factory produced valenki). [Valenki - felt boots made of milled wool.] . At the same time I studied at school and finished 10 classes. After that I went to Sverdlovsk and entered a technical college (I do not remember what college exactly). But it happened that I studied there a short time.

At the end of 1943 I was invited to the local military registration and enlistment office. [Military registration and enlistment offices in the USSR and in Russia are special institutions that implement call-up plans.] I remember that my way there took a lot of time: the military registration and enlistment office was situated somewhere in outskirts of the city.

By that time I already got stronger, I was boarded and passed for general service. Of course, my eyesight did not improve, but authorities bated demands for recruits. We were taken to a military unit in Sverdlovsk region by train. We moved in a heated goods van [a heated goods van was a freight car adapted for transportation of people.] The military unit we were brought in trained recruits. We were going to be trained and get military rank of sergeants, but at the front-line everything was not well. That was the reason why our training course was interrupted, and we were given the ranks of privates first class.

I was sent to infantry as a submachine gunner (regiment #1050, division #301) to the 1st Belarus front. I started fighting at the Polish border. We were charged with an important mission: to liberate peoples of Europe from fascist aggressors. The majority of population of Poland waited for us and welcomed as liberators. They did not run to the West from the coming Red Army. And we, soldiers did our best not to disgrace the name of the Soviet soldier.

Polish people lived under oppression of Germany more than 4 years. Jewish population of that country was almost cut down ruthlessly by fascists. A lot of Poles were killed, too. But the war worked less ruin in Poland than in cities and villages of Bryansk, Orel regions and Eastern part of Ukraine. In the Polish countryside peasants had bread and had saved cattle harmless. In cities people lived half-starving. Heavy speculation flourished. Shops were empty, one could find there only hand-made wooden spoons. 

I served like all other soldiers; I did not do any duties of a commander. I often rushed to the attack, including bayonet attacks, I shot certainly. I did not take part in hand-to-hand fights. What can I tell you about the war? It is a hard work! Your comrades, friends die every day. Every day can become the last one for you. I performed no exploits, but fought honestly. I never sheltered myself behind my friends. So, I can say that I faced up to my responsibilities. We used to joke: an infantryman’s hard lot is 2 hours at the very front-line and 2 months in the hospital. From that point of view I was lucky: I was wounded only once. Now I’ll tell you about it in more detail.

In January 1945 I took part in a hard fighting not far from Warsaw on the right side of the Vistula River. There I was seriously wounded and shell-shocked: an artillery shell blew up very close to me. I lost consciousness, my brother-soldiers carried me out from the battlefield. I was wounded in my foot: my heel bone was shattered. I spent more than 3 months in hospital in Poland. I was lucky to manage without operations. After hospital (at the end of April 1945: shortly before the end of the war) I was sent to the motorcycle battalion of the 2nd mechanized army of general Radzievsky. [General Radzievsky Alexey (1911-1954) was a Soviet military leader.]

Infantrymen looked at us with envy: usually in motorcycle regiment losses were noticeably less. Our tasks were different; we seldom advanced to the attack on foot. I took part in fights near Berlin as a submachine gunner on a motorcycle. My place was in the buddy seat of the motorcycle, wherefrom I executed fire. I celebrated the Victory Day 60 kilometers far from Berlin (in Furstenberg). I was decorated with an Order of the Great Patriotic War (1st Class) 7 and a lot of medals (I do not remember the number of medals!). I keep them in my entresol pinned to a pillow, so that nobody will have problems after my death.

• After the war

After the end of the war I was appointed a technical supervisor of buildings in Furstenberg. The supervising person was responsible for boiler-houses, water supply, and sewerage system. Certainly not all buildings of the city were my responsibility (only a part of them). My work was troublesome. I knew German a little and it helped me to communicate with my German subordinates (stokers, carpenters, yard keepers).

Here I’d like to tell you some words about Furstenberg. It was a little cozy German town situated half-way between Berlin and the Baltic Sea. There is the Havel River, and a lot of channels. Soon we got to know that Ravensbruck, a concentration camp was situated near the town. It was one of the most terrible camps, mainly for women. About 130,000 women and several hundreds of children were imprisoned there. 93,000 prisoners were killed. On April 30, 1945 the survived prisoners were liberated by the Soviet Army. Several kilometers from Furstenberg there is a little town Luhen. It was the last location of Himmler’s headquarters.  [Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945) was a German high-ranking Nazi politician. He headed the SS. By the end of the war he was the second-most powerful man in Nazi Germany. As Reichsführer-SS he oversaw all police and security forces including the Gestapo.]

Many years later I got to know that in Ravensbruck well-known Mother Maria was executed. [Nun Maria Skobtseva (known as Mother Maria, 1891-1945), a Russian poetess was one of the important figures of French Resistance.] I remember that her life history impressed me greatly. I found out that in Paris Mother Maria basically procured forged documents for Jews, helped them to escape from the occupied zone of France, sheltered them and hid children whose parents had been already arrested. And on March 31 the prisoner #19263 (Mother Maria) was executed in the gas chamber of the Ravensbruck concentration camp. She did not last 2 months till the day of liberation.

On official business I frequently went to Berlin. Each time I went to the cinema there. I saw The Girl of My Dream. [Die Frau meiner Traume, German film. George Yakobi was its producer.] In the Soviet Union they showed it with the following subtitle: ‘This film was taken as a trophy in war.’]

The film impressed me deeply. Till now I dream of buying a DVD with the film, but I did not manage. I guess the point was in our hunger for something beautiful, bright (‘a piece of cake’) after all horrors of the war. My life in Germany was fine. Around me there were many people, including our officers (many of them were already married and had got children). But I longed to go home. In 1947 I decided to get demobilized, but the commanders persuaded me to serve a year more (additional service). I was busy with the same task, I was already used to it, therefore I had plenty of spare time. I decided to prepare for a college entrance exams. Of course, I wanted to study in the USSR.

In 1948 I visited Leningrad during my leave, got to know everything about entrance examinations at the Leningrad College of Fine Mechanics and Optics. Then I returned to Germany and got demobilized. During my leave I managed to marry Tsilye Rubezhova. She did not change her maiden name. My wife graduated from the Library College, and worked as a librarian. But when we got acquainted, she was still a student. It was my neighbor who introduced me to her. My wife wanted to go to Germany with me and even left the College. We reached the frontier, but she was not permitted to cross it (I don’t remember the reason). I gave her money to return to Leningrad. She continued her studies and graduated from her College. A year later I came back to Leningrad and entered the Leningrad College of Fine Mechanics and Optics, according to my plans. In 1949 my wife gave birth to our daughter Galina. My daughter also graduated from the Library College (she followed in her mother's footsteps). At present she lives in Canada. She has got a son Alexander born in 1975.

I was a part-time student and worked at the machine-building factory named after Karl Marx. And suddenly, when I was a student of the 3rd course I was invited to the local military registration and enlistment office. They took away my passport [in the USSR and Russia the internal passport is the basic document proving the citizen’s identity] and said: ‘You will serve again.’ It happened in 1951. I was promoted to the rank of junior lieutenant and sent to construction troops at the Ministry of Internal Affairs. We built military units. It is interesting that we knew nothing about the constructions we worked on. It seems to me that they belonged to antiaircraft defense. I was a commander of platoon, and later I was appointed deputy chief of the staff.

In my platoon there were guys from the Western Ukraine and Belarus. They were illiterate, but kind and dutiful. And in the other platoon there served soldiers from the Caucasus, and there happened murders and other troubles. Buildings we constructed were situated near Moscow. Therefore I decided to enter the Moscow Academy at the Ministry of Internal Affairs. I passed through all entrance examinations, got excellent marks, but was rejected for medical grounds. A pretext was my poor eyesight, but in fact the reason was anti-Semitism. I got very angry and started writing official reports to authority about my demobilization. Not to waste time, I entered the Leningrad Construction College (correspondence course). At last (in 1955) I was demobilized.

After my demobilization I came back to Leningrad (to our communal apartment). I found job at the ELECTRON Research Institute (they worked out new models of TV sets). I started as a technician. In 1958 I graduated from my College. At the ELECTRON I worked many years (till my pension in 1992). Soon after my graduation I became an engineer, later - the head of the group and the leading designer. My work was very interesting, creative. I often went on business trips, most often to Moscow. I always worked with pleasure and got on with my colleagues well. We met not only at work, but also at home. In 1960 I got ill with arthritis. I felt very bad and had to undergo an operation. After operation I could not bounce back: my teeth started dropping out.

Doctors told me that it was necessary to change the climate. Our Institute had got a branch in Odessa (Crimea), and I was moved there. There I worked a year, living in a hired apartment. I regained my health. I liked the city very much: cheerful southern seaport. There lived many Jews, but certainly not so many as before the war 8. Then I returned to Leningrad.

During my work I came across no manifestations of anti-Semitism. I was suggested to join the Communist Party, so that I could fill a higher position, but I refused: my position suited me fine.

In 1955 I got divorced. Tsilye got married for the 2nd time, and her husband took her away to Riga, where she lives at present. We are still on friendly terms with her.

I also remained single not for long. A year later I got married for the 2nd time. My 2nd wife’s name was Sofia Shmuklerbaum. She worked at some building company, but hadn’t got any special education. In 1957 our son Yosef was born. But our marriage did not last long. My son graduated from some technical college in Leningrad (I do not remember what college exactly). Approximately in 1978 my son emigrated to the USA. There he acquired a profession of the programmer and got married. I have a grandson Michael. Yosef settled in the new place and invited his mother to live with him. At present I almost lost touch with her.

I liked to spend my spare time in museums. Each day off I visited a museum. I preferred to go there alone. In our city there is no museum I failed to visit several times. I guess I was able to guide through the Leningrad museums myself. Certainly, by now I don’t remember that much.

I became a pensioner and at first I was in low spirits without work: I didn't know what to do with myself. Therefore I decided to study at some courses. I chose binding courses (probably I was moved by my love to books). It was always a pleasure for me to have a neat beautiful book in hand. Therefore I tried to make all books beautiful. Many years I bound books in the library of the Hesed Avraham Welfare Center 9. At present the library at Hesed Center fell into decay: nobody keeps an eye on it, the number of books decreased, and I have nothing to work on. Till now I keep a full set of binding equipment at home and sometimes bind books for myself or for my neighbors.

I remember the Doctors’ Plot very well 10, especially expose of Lidia Timashuk and her frank confession that the charges were framed-up. [Timashuk Lydia (1898-1983) was a doctor. It was she who paid attention to strangeness in treatment of Zhdanov (in 1948 Zhdanov was a well-known figure of the CPSU), resulted in death of the patient. It was the beginning of Doctors’ Plot.]

Of course I often thought about the reasons of arrests around me, but understood that I had to keep silence.

When Stalin died, I did not grieve. I worried about the future of my country.

Regarding the Hungarian events and the Prague spring, I was concordant with the official opinion [11, 12].

I was not indifferent to the Israeli wars [13, 14]. I am Jewish and it was very pleasant for me to hear about Israeli victories. As a former soldier, I also admired military art of the Israeli army.

I also was pleased to know about demolition of the Berlin wall. [Berlin wall was erected in 1961 to divide Western part of Berlin from the Eastern one. It was symbolical that its concrete was used to construct highways of the united Germany. It was demolished in 1989.] I could not understand the purpose of dividing a country and its people into 2 parts.

Reforms of Gorbachev 15 (the so called Perestroika 16), distressed me rather than made happy. I was sorry to know about the USSR disintegration. In the USSR everybody kept order, and pilfered less. At present I consider our democracy to be forged.

I used to visit Hesed Center to play chess there, but at present I have pain in my legs, so twice a month they come and bring me to the Day Time Center [one of the Hesed programs]. There we spend all the day long: we have meals, sometimes excursions. Hesed Center gives us necessary medicine at half-price. But you see the point is that we lack intercommunication. I do, and the others, too.

Last year I was crossing the road, stumbled and fell down. Unfortunately right near that place workers were occupied with repaving. I managed to fell down in the molten asphalt and burnt both hands. I spent in the hospital more than 2 weeks and was discharged with my both hands still bandaged.

At home I usually do everything myself, but at that time I was absolutely helpless. And then they sent a woman (a volunteer of Eva Jewish Society) to my place. [The St. Petersburg Jewish Charitable Organization Eva was founded in May 1989. The organization runs a lot of programs for pensioners, lonely elder or bed-ridden persons, needy invalids, etc.] She helped me about the house until I was my own master again. They saved me, really.

• Glossary:

Kiev
Ukraine
Interviewer: Oksana Kuntsevskaya
Date of interview: August 2003

Vera Dreezo is a very nice and friendly small woman. She looks good for her age of 74 years. She lives in a house built in 1980s at quite a distance from the center of Kiev. She lives in a two-room apartment that was recently renovated. Hers is a nice apartment. She has photographs on the walls. Many of them are of her theatrical work. Vera does shopping and cleans her apartment herself.  She has a caring son and daughter-in-law and a grown up granddaughter that often come to see her. They live nearby. Vera tries to take care of her everyday chores, but when she has problems her son is there to resolve them. Besides, Vera has many acquaintances and friends. She leads an active life. 

My family background

Growing up

During the war

After the war

Glossary

My family backgrownd

My maternal great grandfather’s name was Ghenad Bairach. I don’t know his year of birth or death. He was a cantonist 1. My great grandfather served 25 years in the tsarist army and was given permission to settle down in Kiev regardless the existing restrictions about the Pale of Settlement 2. This permission spread on his heirs as well. My great grandfather lived in Mokraya Street Solomenka [at present this is one of central districts, but at his time it was in the outskirts of Kiev]. He had a house, but I don’t know whether he bought it or built it for himself. My mother told me that my great grandfather was an extremely strong man. My mother told me that when Denikin troops 3 came to Kiev in 1917 his son-in-law Iosif Mikhailovski took his three daughters to the house of Ghenad Bairach. Someone reported to Denikin troops where the girls were hiding and Denikin soldiers tried to break through the gate. My great grandfather took a horse cart shaft and moved on them. When they saw him they ran away. He was a man of great strength. I don’t have information about my great grandmother or how many children they had. 

My maternal grandmother’s name was Dvoira Mikhailovskaya, nee Bairach. I was given the name of Vera after her. Our names sound alike. I don’t know when my grandmother was born, when she married Iosif Mikhailovski or whether she had any education. I don’t know where she came from or who were her parents came from. My mother told me that before the Revolution 4 her father Iosif Mikhailovski was selling hay and had horses for transportation purposes. He was a wealthy man, but of course, after the Revolution and Civil War 5 Soviet authorities expropriated his horses.  

After my grandmother and grandfather got married they lived in my grandfather’s house in Solomenka near where my great grandfather lived. The first floor was made of stone and the second floor was wooden, but plastered.  I’ve been in this house. I remember us climbing squeaking stairs with handrails leading to the second floor.  There were such small rooms in the house. My grandfather rented out the first floor at the time when I remember before the Great Patriotic War 6, and his family lodged on the 2nd floor. Grandmother Dvoira had eight children.  Two children died in infancy and one boy died in his teens. I don’t know their names. Five children survived: Michael, my mother Ghita, Meyer, Ethel and Lyolia. They are all gone. My grandfather gave education to his children. The boys studied at a realschule in Kiev and the girls studied in a grammar school. By the way, my grandfather paid for his three daughters and for three Christian girls whose parents were poor.

Their family wasn’t religious. They spoke Russian and didn’t celebrate even the biggest holidays, although I wouldn’t be that sure about it. I guess my grandfather’s 25-year service played its role.  He may have forgotten all rules when he was in the army. My grandmother had a housemaid to help her around the house. Besides, the children had a nanny. My mother told me little about her childhood and her brothers and sisters.  

My mother’s older brother Michael Mikhailovski, born approximately in 1900 – 1901, finished a realschule 7 in Kiev before the revolution and worked as a trade shipments forwarder.  Michael didn’t have a smooth marital life. He was married three times. His three wives were Jewish. Michael divorced his first and second wives. In his second marriage he had two sons: Boris, born in 1927, and Arkadi, born in 1936. When the Great Patriotic War began Michael was recruited to the army. I don’t know where exactly he served. He was awarded two orders of Red Star. Shortly after he returned from the front he got married for a third time. He worked in a supply company in Kiev. Then he resigned. His third wife Fania – all I know about her is her name - and he did housework and counted how many berries they would put in each varenik [dumpling with filling]. Michael took after my grandfather: same appearance and same bad character. He and his wife visited us every now and then.  He didn’t observe any Jewish traditions and spoke Russian. I didn’t keep in touch with his children and cannot say whether they observed any traditions. Michael died of cancer in 1970s. His older son Boris buried his father in their family grave at Berkovtsy [town cemetery in Kiev] and then moved to America with his family. I don’t have any information about him.  I don’t have any information about Michael’s younger son. 

My mother’s middle brother Meyer Mikhailovski, born in 1903, also finished a realschule in Kiev. He was a bachelor. He worked at the 4th shoe factory in Kiev.  He went to work there as a worker and was promoted to foreman. Meyer lived in the room where our family lived. When my mother got married she took him from the factory hostel to live with us. On the first days of the Great Patriotic War he was drafted to the army and was awarded two orders of Red Banner. After the Great Patriotic War Meyer returned home and worked at the 4th shoe factory. He helped us to get our room in the communal apartment 8 back after the war.  He lived there until he died. Meyer was a devoted and convinced communist. He rejected anything associated with religion.  He died some time in 1960s and was buried in Berkovtsy.

My mother’s younger sister Ethel Mikhailovskaya, born in 1906, I guess, she studied in a grammar school like her sisters. I have no information about her. Once my mother mentioned that Ethel got married in 1920s and moved somewhere far away. I don’t know any details since I never saw her.

My mother’s younger sister Lyolia Berezina, nee Mikhailovskaya, born in 1909, finished elementary course of grammar school before 1917 and then studied in a Russian secondary school in Kiev. Her husband Pyotr Berezin was Russian. I don’t know what he did for a living. Their son Victor was born in 1931.  However, Lyolia’s husband turned out to be a drunkard and they divorced. She was ill with spandelite. She often stayed in hospital and there was a common idea in the family that Lyolia was ill and always needed help. She worked at a factory in Kiev. I don’t know what she did there.  When the Great Patriotic War began Lyolia evacuated with my mother, my sister Zoya and me.  My father was responsible for the evacuation of families of employees of refrigeration factory. Besides my mother, Zoya and me he was allowed to arrange for evacuation of one additional person. I can remember well that mother was begging of my father to have Lyolia and her son going with us. This was 21 July 1941. Father was a very honest man. He replied ‘If I allow for two more people to evacuate other people will talk that I am making arrangements for my relatives pointing their fingers at me. I just cannot allow it to happen. Lyolia and Vitia will go by next train in two weeks’. What Lyolia did – she left Vitia with his Russian grandmother and joined us. I couldn’t forgive her that she had left her own child. Vitia was 10 years old. It took him a long time to adjust to the thought that his mother had left him behind. It was a big shock for him. His grandmother lived with her second son and his family in Solomenka. First somebody reported that there was a ‘zhydyonok’ [offensive term for a Jewish child] hiding and Gestapo soldiers came for him. He was beaten and taken away and stayed a whole night in a cellar with rats. Next morning this grandmother and her Russian or Ukrainian neighbor ran to the police office where they both screamed him out of his captivity.  About ten days later Vitia overheard his uncle’s wife saying ‘I will report on this zhydyonok anyway!’ At that time there were posters ordering Jews to come to the Babi Yar 9 all over the town. He left home and through all years of the war he was wandering all over Ukraine, from one house to another. Lyolia recalled him in evacuation. As soon as Kiev was liberated she wrote her mother-in-law asking ‘Where is Vitia?’ She replied ‘I don’t know whether he is alive.’ Vitia returned to his grandmother after Kiev was liberated in November 1944. We were in Orenburg [today Russia, over 2000 km to the east from Kiev], when we received a letter saying that he was alive. We demanded that he came to Orenburg and then we all returned to Kiev. Victor worked as a tram driver and was married three times. Now he is a pensioner. I went to the Hesed where I got to know that he wasn’t on the list of prisoners since he was on the occupied territory. I went to the archives with him and we obtained all necessary documents to confirm that he has a status of a former prisoner. He receives a German pension. 

After we returned to Kiev Lyolia went back to work at the factory. She didn’t remarry and lived with her son’s family. Victor treated his mother coolly. He probably didn’t forgive her betrayal of him, but mother is mother. Lyolia spoke Russian and didn’t observe any Jewish traditions. She died in 1970s and was buried at Berkovtsy cemetery.

My mother Ghita Mikhailovskaya was born on 18 November 1904. She studied in a grammar school like her sisters. My mother told me that before the revolution they studied Hebrew and, so it seems, Yiddish that she has forgotten in the course of time. I only can’t remember whether they had a teacher at home or studied the languages in grammar school.

Grandmother died of typhoid in 1916 when my mother was 12.  After she died grandfather married a Russian housemaid. She was a plain woman and had no education. Wealthier Jews used to have non-Jewish housemaids (goy they were called). The name of this housemaid was Tosia. She and grandfather had three children of their own. I have no information about those children.

Tosia worked as a cleaning woman or attendant in a hospital in Kiev after the revolution. I don’t know what grandfather was doing after the revolution.  He was tall and thin and had a thin face. He was kind and talked to me nicely, but he didn’t support us. 

I don’t know whether my grandfather went to synagogue, but I know that they celebrated Pesach and also Easter with his second wife. I don’t know any details, but they celebrated these holidays more likely as a tribute to tradition since they were not religious. My mother and I visited them somewhere in the middle of holidays. I remember that we ate matzah.  

After he remarried grandfather stopped supporting his older children. He probably thought they already could take care of themselves. Grandfather was and indomitable man and was interested in political subjects. In 1930s he was charged of Trotskism 10 and imprisoned. Later he was released, but I don’t know of any details. My mother didn’t keep in touch with grandfather and his second family. It seems grandfather died in late 1930s.

My mother and her sisters were having a hard time, especially during the Civil war. My mother couldn’t complete her education having to support her younger sisters. She worked at fairs and exhibitions as a cashier or did any work she could get. My mother and her sisters were renting a room. Basically, my mother told me very little about this period of her life. I cannot imagine how they survived these hardships. In 1925 or so my mother began to work as a cashier in a grocery store in the center of Kiev where she met my father.

My father Ilia Minevich (Elia in the Jewish manner) [Common name] 11 was born in Mozyr somewhere in Vinnitsa region in 1904. I cannot tell about this town since I’ve never been there.  I know very little about my paternal grandfather – just what my mother told me. My mother said he was a steward in somebody’s mansion in Mozyr. This is all I know about my grandfather.  I have no information about my paternal grandmother either. My mother also told me that my father had a brother and an older sister. All I know about them is that my father sister’s name was Elza and she danced and sang in the gypsy theater in Kiev before the Great Patriotic War. My father brother’s name was Iosif. He perished at the front. 

My mother told me a short story about my father’s childhood. There was a solar eclipse when  my father turned nine. He looked at the sun without a special glass and – he got blind. The owner of the mansion where his father was a steward wished to give him money for medical treatment and my grandfather took my father to many doctors until one doctor said that as suddenly as he got blind he would see. This happened to be true: my father began to see a year later. 

I don’t know what kind of education my father had. In 1920s he went into trade after a Komsomol appeal 12. I don’t know any details, but in late 1920s he moved to Kiev where he was appointed as director of a food store. This was when he met my mother and fell in love with her. However, by that time my father had been married. His wife was a Jewish girl, a seamstress. They didn’t have any children and as the time passed they became different. She remained a provincial girl with hardly any interests while my father was fond of reading, was interested in politics and self education.  

My mother didn’t want to meet with him since he was married. My mother told me that my father’s mother came to Kiev and came to my mother’s work to see her. She said: ‘Please marry him, he loves you. He will divorce his wife and leave her a sewing machine’. A sewing machine was of incredible value! My father divorced shortly afterward and married my mother in 1928. My mother said they didn’t have a wedding, just a civil ceremony in a registry office. Shortly afterward my father became director of a trade center (four stores on a crossing in the center of Kiev).  This was an area where all artistic elite resided.

I remember my father very well – he was taller than average and a very handsome man, but what was most important about him was his extraordinary voice. My mother told me a family legend. My father was very kind to his subordinates. Most of them were women and he never hesitated to help them lift something heavy or help with anything. One late night – and stores were open until midnight at that time my father was signing helping shop assistants. There was only one customer in the store at that late hour: he was short, fatty, bold and had a stick… he hit the counter with his stick ordering ‘Come out who is singing there!’ This was Grigoriy Veryovka 13. He was trying to talk my father into going to school to learn to sing ‘You’ll be singing in the Bolshoi Theater 14 two years from today!’  My father had a rare baritone bass. He had a very strong voice. He liked signing Ukrainian folk songs, Jewish songs, Russian songs and arias. However, my mother got jealous about his perspectives and my father refused undertaking a career of a singer. Then, when father perished my mother was terribly sorry that she had not allowed him to study singing. He might have survived if he had been an actor.

In 1929 my father received a room in a communal apartment with five other tenants in the center of Kiev. This apartment probably belonged to a rich man before. There was a big kitchen and a bathroom with a big closet shelves inside. The bathroom was used as wood storage – there was stove heating in the apartment before the Great Patriotic War. There were primus stoves 15 and later – kerosene stoves and then when gas supply was installed there were two or three gas stoves brought into the kitchen to replace the old stoves. Two families shared one stove. There were arguments about who cleaned the stove  and who didn’t. Each family had a bulb in the hallway and an electric doorbell.  It was bad when one rang a wrong bell or lit a wrong  bulb! Tenants also took turns to wash the floor in the hallway. I remember washing the floors in this big hallway when I was in the tenth form after the Great Patriotic War.

Growing up

I was born in this room on 18 November 1929. I didn’t go to a nursery school or kindergarten.  My mother became a housewife when I was born. One of our neighbors taught my mother to cook since my mother had lost her parents at an early age and didn’t know how to do it. She learned to cook gefilte fish, pudding, pancakes and stew. I don’t know whether our neighbors were Jewish, probably because I didn’t care. All housewives shared their recipes gladly and cooked dishes of various cuisines in our kitchen: Russian, Ukrainian and Jewish. I learned from her when I grew up. My father hired me a nanny to help mother with the housework. Her name was Varia and she came from a Ukrainian village. At the beginning she slept in the mezzanine closet in the bathroom. There was a ladder to climb there and I used to climb this ladder visiting her there.  I liked it there. She had an icon and some other little things there. My nanny got ill before the Great Patriotic War. There were polyp or something identified in her throat. My father gave Varia money to pay for a surgery. Varia loved me and my sister dearly. She never got married. My father helped her to receive a small room near the kitchen in an apartment on the 4th floor of the building where we lived. She died after the Great Patriotic War and we buried her. 

In 1937 my younger sister Zoya was born. By that time my father received a bigger room in the same apartment where we lived.  There was a big double bed in the room, some low table by an opposite wall and my sister’s bed. There was a coach with a high back upholstered with black artificial leather where I slept. There was an oval table beside it. There was a partial to separate a corner for my mother’s brother Meyer. There was a small stove. The window of our room faced a backyard where there was a shed and garbage containers.

The most terrible thing about our apartment were huge red rats. They were there before and after the war. We had to stamp our feet to scare away all rats before coming into the hallway. When we returned to this room after the war there were even more rats there. There was an anti-aircraft defense headquarters before and in the first years after the war in the basement of our house. The windows to this basement that were right underneath our window were closed with sheet steel and there was a fire emergency staircase near those windows. The rats ran up and down the staircase, got over this sheet steel to our window tapping on it. This was a terrible life!

In 1938 refrigeration factory #2 was built in Demeyevka [a distant district in Kiev]. It is still there and I buy ice-cream produced there. My father became a commercial director of this factory that same year. I've already told you how the family of the commercial director lived. My mother had two dresses: one made of crepe de chine and one of wool. My father had a suit, a coat and a cap. However, our situation improved a little. My father went to a recreation center a couple of times. His management also promised to give him an apartment since there were five of us living in one room: my father, my mother, two children and my mother’s brother Meyer.

My parents were friends with two neighboring Jewish families: the Abramsons and Grabovs. They often got together to play cards, have a drink and chat. Since I was sleeping on the coach in the same room I often overheard their discussions before falling asleep. They talked about arrests [Great Terror (1934-1938)]16, but I didn’t understand it. I cannot remember by what miracle this period didn’t have an impact on our family. They also discussed their family life. Somehow they came to the decision to have another baby almost simultaneously and their younger children were of the same age.

My parents liked going to the cinema, theaters and football matches. They were theater goers and went to theaters with their friends.  They went to the Franko Theater [Ukrainian Drama], and discussed how actors were playing, they also went to the Opera Theater and discussed Patorzhynskiy [Ivan Sergeyevich Patorzhynskiy (1896 – 1960) – a famous Soviet bass singer], famous Litvinenko-Volgemut [Maria Litvinenko-Volgemut (1892-1966): a famous Soviet opera singer, lyrical dramatic soprano], of course! I often went to the theater for young spectators. We had many books in Russian by classical and modern writers. My parents were very fond of reading. We were an ordinary Soviet family. A family of a Soviet employee. My parents were convinced atheists and we didn’t celebrate any religious holidays. 

I went to Russian lower secondary school #48 in 1936. I finished the 4th grade before the Great Patriotic War.

I remember very well that in late 1930s my father went on trips to other Soviet republic on training. Once he brought a recipe for kefir [fermented dairy drink] from the Caucasus and had it introduced in production. This was how production of kefir started in Kiev and nobody can tell me otherwise. It was delicious kefir, so rich! In 1939 my father initiated opening of two ice-cream shops in Kiev. The refrigeration factory began to produce various ice-creams, frozen fruit, juiced berries and ice-cream cakes. This was new experience since before this there were ice-cream stands where a vendor just put ice-cream in waffle scoops. This was my father’s idea to make ice-cream shops. There were nice table and stools in these shops where my mother took me. Director of the shop where we went came to say hallo to us.

During the war

I remember the beginning of the Great Patriotic War. I woke up on the dawn of 22 June 1941 hearing my mother and father talking.  My father was saying ‘No, this is just another training. Don’t worry!’ and mother replied ‘This cannot be training’. I remember what she said and in the afternoon we heard Molotov 17 speaking on the radio.

We left Kiev on 21 July: my mother, Zoya, I and aunt Lilia. My father took us to the station. He said ‘Don’t worry, you’ll be back soon!’ It was a common belief that the war would be over within 2-3 months. 

My father perished near Kiev on 21 September 1941 when Soviet troops were retreating. This village was called Borshchi. Actually, my father had a ‘white card’ of release from the army service [this was a release from service in the tsarist army before the revolution of 1917 issued by a medical commission that determined that a young man was unfit for military service], but he volunteered to a Territorial Army unit [Fighting battalion]18, where he was deputy commanding officer. Director of the refrigeration factory was commanding officer of the unit. They were moving in a field when another bombing began. My father was moving ahead of the column in a white refrigeration truck. A bomb hit it killing my father. His employees that witnessed how he died told us about it. However, my mother always hoped that he was alive, but then we understood that he was gone since he would have let us know where he was. We received pension for him.  

Our trip by train lasted over a month. We were moving to the refrigeration factory named after Engels [over 1500 km to the east from Kiev]. The refrigeration center was located in the middle of the steppe. There were barracks for employees of the center. Povolzhye Germans [German colonist] 19 also resided there. I still remember how delicious bread they baked! When you pushed at it and then let go it stretched back. There was brown and white bread. 

We were accommodated in a four-storey hostel of the refrigeration center. It was still under construction.  A few families were sleeping in one room on the floor. Many women kept hoping that their husbands would return when the war was over. My mother was smart and realistic and went to work as a cashier in a local store. Shortly after we returned German families began to be deported to the north. Actually, the situation was difficult. I saw things like ‘Heil Hitler’ or ‘Beat yids!’ written on the walls of houses. Besides, there were talks that Povolzhye Germans launched signal flares… Perhaps, some of them supported Germans. One cannot blame a whole nation. I remember how Germans were deported. I guess they were given three days to get ready. They were not allowed to take any furniture or utensils with them. They were cursing and crying. If a husband was Russian and his wife German they had an opportunity to get permission to stay home, but when a husband was German his wife had to follow him. When they moved out we were accommodated in their barracks. 

We were given lodging in a very narrow room of about 9 square meters. My mother and Zoya shared one bed and Lyolia slept on another. I had a folding bed unfolded in the evening. There was a primus or a kerosene stove in the corridor. Aunt Lyolia did the housekeeping. Germans left their food stocks and we had food at the beginning.

In 1942 my mother’s brother Meyer came to see us on his leave. He was awarded an Order of Red Star and a leave. He told us later how he received an award: ‘everybody else started running, but I stayed in my trench throwing grenades at those German tanks…’  When Meyer saw our living conditions he said he was taking us with him. Their military unit was sent to be remanned in Orenburg [about 2000 km to the east].

Meyer’s Military unit was deployed in Kagarlyk near Orenburg. It was a Tatar village of one long street with no windows facing the street. Tatars and Uzbeks build their houses facing a street. They grew sheep. There was a herd of sheep walking along the street in the morning stirring up clouds of dust. In the evening they were coming back and the dust crunched in our teeth.  

We were accommodated in a clay house with no stove. My uncle sent us a soldier to make a stove. He was wearing a fading shirt and looked like a frog with his mouth and those hands… He built a stove, but it collapsed. He said in accented Russian: ‘It’s all right, don’t worry, I will make you another stove…’  He made another stove that collapsed, too. Only the third one was more or less there. It generated so much smoke, it was a nightmare. Families of the military did shopping in a store across the street. There was brown bread, vinegar, oil, garlic and green tomatoes that never got ripe in this area. Lyolia made doughnuts of this brown bread and garlic, salads of green tomatoes, spring onions and garlic. The locals didn’t have a friendly attitude. Their ordinary answer to any question was ‘Ne belmes’ (‘I don’t understand’ in Tatar). I don’t know whether they didn’t understand or just didn’t want to talk. 

There was no school in Kagarlyk and before September uncle Meyer’s military unit was to leave Kagarlyk. We didn’t want to stay among strangers. Then my mother ventured to travel to Orenburg hoping to find some lodging and a job.  There was a truck routing to Orenburg from the military unit every other day. My uncle made all necessary arrangements for her return trip.  Mother took a slice of bread and a bottle of water, few green tomatoes and some garlic and went to Orenburg.  She walked across the town for half a day, but couldn’t find any work or lodging. She got tired and sat down on a porch of a house – there were four-storied buildings in the center of the town, but the rest of them were one-storied houses. She was sitting there chewing when all of a sudden she heard somebody addressing her ‘Ghita Iosifovna’ [the customary polite address in Russian is by first and second name. The latter (patronimic) consists of one’s father’s name and a suffix: –ovna for women and –ovich for men, i.e. if Ghita’s father’s name was Iosif, her patronimic is ‘Iosifovna’], what are you doing here?’ She raises her eyes and sees Aaron Brodski, our neighbor in Kiev. In Orenburg Aaron was chief engineer of aviation repair plant. She threw herself on his chest and began to cry telling him her story. He took her to his place where she had a bath and a meal and then they helped her to rent an apartment. Mother came back home happy and told us that we could go to Orenburg. This was actually a room leading to two other rooms where owners of the apartment lived.

My mother soon met a man from Kiev who knew my father well and he helped her with employment at the meat packing factory where she was a shipment forwarder. Actually she delivered meat on horse-driven carts. However, she could bring home some bare ribs or beef legs and my aunt made us studen’ [studen’, or holodets: a cold meat dish, usually made of boiled bones with little meat on them, the meat is mixed with the bouillon and cooled, after which it becomes jelly-like because of high percentage of gelatin in it] of them. It helped us to survive. Half a year later mother found another apartment in the basement of a house. There were window shutters closing from the side of a street. I remember how local bandits tried to break into our lodging through the windows. They removed those shutters, but we were screaming there and they ran away. The locals only spoke in curses they didn’t know any other language. There were many bugs in the houses. It was an ordinary thing for them.

My sister and I fell very ill in Orenburg: I had paratyphoid and Zoya had pneumonia.  Fortunately, we found a doctor: professor Ierusalimski from Moscow. Zoya had high fever and professor told mother to get some sulfidine, a new medication. Mother managed to get some and Zoya began to recover. Mother was exhausted: she went to work during a day and at night she sat beside Zoya’s bed watching her. I don’t know how she managed to live through it, but she never gave up and stood the circumstances. 

I went to a Russian school for girls in Orenburg. I actively participated in pioneer and Komsomol activities 20. Other children elected me chairman of our school pioneer unit council. I liked it. I was responsible for organizing meetings, political classes, visits to local hospitals to attend to patients and perform concerts. Once our school Party organizer Nadezhda Ivanovna said to me ‘Vera, you will make a speech about your pioneer organization and your work at the regional Komsomol conference. I will help you to write your speech.’ When we sat to prepare the speech she began to dictate it to me. She was dictating about something I hadn’t done. I was an honest girl and I really did a lot of work that I was planning to talk about. I said ‘Nadezhda Ivanovna, but this is not what we’ve done!’  ‘It’s all right, you put it down and then you will read this part of your speech.’  Actually, after this I gave up my Komsomol activities. On our way back to Kiev I purposely ‘lost’ my Komsomol membership card due to my disappointment in such activities. Then in Kiev I resumed my membership in Komsomol. I needed it to continue my studies in a higher educational institution.  But when I entered a college I ‘lost’ it again. However, since students had to be Komsomol members I joined Komsomol again.  I couldn’t afford to be a ‘black sheep’.

I was responsible for fetching water to the house. My aunt was weak and sickly and mother was at work. In 1942 - 1943 winter was very severe. We fetched water from pumps. There was so much ice on the ground that the pump was in the middle of an ice hill.  I climbed that hill, and waited until water squirted in my bucket. I left my shoulder yoke down the hill. There was also a line of people to get water. You can imagine, I once slipped and fell and the water poured out of my buckets. I got wet, but other people didn’t allow me to refill my buckets. I had to stand in line waiting for my turn.  

We were so happy to hear the word ‘Victory!’ in May 1945! We began to get prepared to go home. My mother, I, Zoya, aunt Lyolia and Vitia went back by freight train. We returned to our apartment. There was no furniture left. Varia, our nanny, watched where our furniture was gone and our mother demanded it back. Later my mother’s brothers and sisters also received lodgings. Meyer stayed with us. I lived there until I got married. 

After the war

In Kiev I went to the 9th grade of school #53 in 1945. There were Ukrainian classes beginning from the 5th form in all Russian schools in Kiev. I hadn’t studied Ukrainian in evacuation and was dismissed from these classes. I had many friends and we went to the cinema, theater or just for a walk in the park missing many classes at school. I already decided to enter Theatrical College after school and focused on literature and history.

My mother took over any job to support the family. She was selling things and got involved in illegal apartment exchange business. We were surviving. We were often hungry. Our mother received a pension for our father, but it was a miserable amount.  

In September 1945 my sister Zoya went to new Russian school #135. She was the best student at school and was to receive a medal after school [the highest award to best students of secondary schools in the USSR]. However, after finishing school in 1955 she received only a silver medal. Zoya had a classmate whose father was a Party official. There was limited number of gold and silver medal awards and that girl received a gold medal. This injustice was the first big shock in her life. She entered the Faculty of Sanitary Hygiene in Kiev Medical College. She was to take one entrance exams. She passed it successfully and finished her college successfully. She married Zheldakov, a Russian man. They have one son, Ilya. She went to work at the Institute of food hygiene where she defended thesis and became candidate of sciences [Soviet/Russian doctorate degrees] 21. She got a job offer in the Academic Institute named after Sysin  in Moscow and they decided to move to Moscow. My mother moved to Moscow with Zoya in 1965 and lived there until she died in 1980. She was buried at the town cemetery in Moscow. Zoya became director of a laboratory. She was scientific secretary of the All-Union department of Water Environment Safety. She defended her doctor’s dissertation. She is still at the head of her laboratory and is one of 7 leading water ecologists in the world.

After finishing school I entered the Theatrical College. I have dim memories of the years of my studies, 1946 – 1951. we studied and had rehearsals, went for walks and to discos.  We often went to the cinema. After finishing college I went to work at the theater for young spectators where I met my husband Vilia [full name Vilen] Dreezo. 

My husband Vilia Dreezo, a Jew, was born in Kiev, I guess, in 1928. His father Ovsey Driez was a Jewish poet [Ovsey Driez (1908 – 1971) a Soviet Jewish writer] Ovsey was born in the Jewish town of Krasnoye in Vinnitsa region. Ovsey Driez wrote in Yiddish. He received a traditional Jewish education and studied in a Ukrainian secondary school and Kiev Art School. In 1934 he volunteered to the Red Army where he served in front troops until 1947. In 1939 – 1941 he was in Western Ukraine. He was helping Jewish refugees that escaped from the Nazis. During the war he met Lidia Ionova, a Russian woman from Moscow. He moved to Moscow with her and lived in Moscow until the end of his life. My husband’s mother Ida Biz divorced Ovsey in the late 1930s and she was married a second time when I met her. I know little about her life. I know that she was a Yiddish teacher in a Jewish school in Kiev before the war.  When this school was closed Ida became a teacher of the Russian literature and language in a Ukrainian school. Many other Jewish teachers changed their specializations and made best teachers in schools. 
Vilia didn’t tell me about his childhood. I know that he finished a secondary school in Kiev in 1946 and in 1947 he went to serve in the army. By the way, he changed his father’s last name. An Honored journalist of Ukraine Vladlen Novozhylov described this episode in his book ‘Soldiers from Evbaz’. He was Vilia’s fellow comrade and they knew each other since they were at school.  Vilia and Vladlen went in for shooting training. Vilia was training to shoot from a small caliber rifle and became a champion of Ukraine and Vladlen learned to shoot from a gun. They served in the same military unit. Other fellow comrades teased Vilia finding the surname of Driez extremely funny. Vladlen got a clerk in their office drunk and made him add ‘o’ at the end. This was how my husband had his surname changed to Dreezo. 

Vilia demobilized in 1952 and went to work at our theater as electrician. He was promoted to electric engineering manager. We met and Vilia courted me for a while. We got married in 1954. We had a civil ceremony in a registry office. There was no wedding party. 

We lived with Vilia’s mother Ida. They had two rooms in a communal apartment in the house for writers. Formerly chairman of the union of writers of Ukraine Kirilenko arrested in 1937 lived in this apartment. He must have been executed. His family received a certificate that it happened when he was trying to escape. There were four rooms in the apartment. Two of them the Driez family received. Vilia and I were accommodated in the go-through room in this apartment.

My son Alyosha [full name Aleksei] was born in 1956. We had a common balcony with the family of Sosyura [Vladimir Sosyura (1898-1965): a famous Soviet Ukrainian poet]. About two weeks after Alyosha was born Maria Gavrilovna Sosyura brought us a baby-carriage. So my Alyosha grew up in the baby-carriage that formerly belonged to the Sosyura family. We had good relationships with them.

My mother-in-law spoke fluent Yiddish. She exchanged words in Yiddish with her second husband.  However, they spoke Russian in the family. We kept our good relationships even after I divorced Vilia. She helped me to look after Alyosha. She was a smart woman.

My husband’s family didn’t celebrate any Jewish holidays. They were a Soviet family. Ida Aronovna was a convinced ‘Orthodox’ communist. We celebrated New Year, 1 May, day of October Revolution 22 and Victory Day 23. We had parties and sang Soviet songs.  My husband and I had many friends. We went to theaters and concerts. There were jazz bands from other countries coming on tours. 

I’ve never faced any national discrimination; at school, college or at work – never.  Perhaps I was lucky to be working with intelligent people. On 5 March 1953 there was a mourning meeting at the theater. I made a speech and said ‘Stalin is like air for us. We can’t live without breathing air’ – what nonsense I was saying, but at that time this was what we believed and thought.

I'd rather not talk about my private life. I didn’t have it. My son and I lived in a one-room apartment  since early 1960s. I left my theater to looked after my son and if I had stayed at the theater I would have returned home late at night.  I was a housewife for few years. I didn’t get a chance to go back to work at the theater: there were no vacancies. In 1960 I went to work as a consultant at Kiev Institute of advanced training of teachers. I was responsible for making arrangements for conferences, discussions of new school curricula, innovations and school academic plans. I retired from this position in 1984.

My son Aleksei Dreezo went to the first grade of a Russian school in Kiev in 1963. He was always aware of his parents’ and his own Jewish identity and had no problems with it. We didn’t observe any Jewish traditions. I even didn’t know any.  We would have been even afraid of coming close to a synagogue [Struggle against religion] 24.  Of course, I cannot turn to religion at the end of my life or observe any traditions or celebrate holidays. We celebrated Soviet and family events and holidays and invited my colleagues and later – my son’s friends.  Aleksei studied well at school and had many friends. After finishing school he entered the Production faculty of the Kiev College of Culture. He finished it in 1977 and was producer of concerts for a long time. Aleksei married his co-student, a Ukrainian girl.  I liked my daughter-in-law and was happy that my son found his second ‘half’. Aleksei has a grown up daughter, my granddaughter. She studies in the conservatory in Kiev. They speak Russian and Ukrainian in their family. They do not observe any Jewish traditions. They celebrated Soviet holidays in the past.

In  1991 perestroika 25 began [Editor’s note: perestroika was actually launched before 1991, right after Gorbachev came to power in 1985]. My son and his wife lost their jobs. My granddaughter entered the music school named after Lysenko and they needed money to pay for her studies. Their situation was very hard. Somebody recommended me to go to Hesed, this charity organization. I liked the friendly atmosphere there and nice people. They provided food assistance and medications to people.  I also wanted to do something good. I suggested that I could read lectures. In 1992 was 90th birthday anniversary of Ovsey Driez and we made a very nice soiree dedicated to him. I spoke about him. To prepare for my lectures I went to libraries and archives and read magazines and newspapers. I got acquainted with the Jewish culture going too deep into Judaism. The lectures that I read can be united under the title ‘Jews and the world culture’. 

Neither my son nor I have considered emigration. Aleksei and his wife work for private business that has nothing to do with their education. They deal in commerce. I can’t speak for my children, but speaking for myself I can say that I’ve found my niche. Of course, it’s not easy to lecture to people and travel a lot, but it’s interesting. I meet with many nice people traveling to Ukrainian towns. I lecture to them and they tell me about themselves. This gives me a feeling of the fullness of life. 

GLOSSARY:

St. Petersburg 
Russia 
Interviewer: Olga Egudina 
Date of interview: December 2006 

I met Mikhail Efimovich Katsenelson in his spacious, comfortable
and beautiful apartment in the city center. 

Mikhail Efimovich Katsenelson is a handsome tall man. 
His age did not bend his back and did not suppress his voice. 

Events of his life could have adorned several biographies: 

during the war he was a pilot of battle experience; 
then an instructor of pilots and cosmonauts; 
later a writer (an author of more than 10 books). 

Mikhail Efimovich lives an active life, he still works on his books. 
It is a pleasure to talk to him: he is not only a talented narrator, 
but he is also possessed of rare quality: he is an attentive listener. 

• My family background
• During the war
• After the war
• Glossary

My family background

I can tell you nothing not only about my great-grandmothers and great-grandfathers, but even about my grandmothers and grandfathers. Evidently my grandmothers and grandfathers had died before I was born. I do not remember any stories or memoirs of my parents about their childhood or about their ancestors. Unfortunately I also remember not so much about my parents, but I’ll tell you about it later.

I was born in 1921 in Rostov-on-Don. I do not remember the city, but I know that it is an ancient one (founded in the middle of the XVIII century). By the beginning of the XX century it was a large industrial center, an important river port and a university center.

My father worked as a drugstore manager (the drugstore was situated in one of the main streets of Rostov-on-Don). My mother worked at the same drugstore as a pharmacist though she had no special education. I do not know why, but my father was considered to be a very good expert in his sphere. Therefore when the authorities decided to reinforce rural drugstores with skilled personnel, my father was sent there for work.

He was sent to a great sovkhoz 1, which was called accordingly Gigant (Giant). He had to work there as a drugstore manager, too. It happened approximately in 1925. We lived there not long. I can’t recall our rural life very well. We lived in a house which seemed to me to be very huge. We kept rabbits. Now I think that we also had a vegetable garden. I also have a hazy recollection of the fire which happened in the village where we lived. Soon my father was appointed a drugstore manager in Millerovo.

Millerovo was a regional center, not far from it there was Veshenskaya Cossack village, well-known because of Mikhail Sholokhov who lived there. [Mikhail Sholokhov (1905-1984) was a Russian Soviet writer, a Nobel Prize winner, an author of different novels: Tikhiy Don, Podnyataya Tselina, etc.] Millerovo was a center of Don Cossacks 2. At that time Cossacks stood high esteem of the authorities: they were supported in every aspect of their life, including cultural. Very often Cossack choruses visited Moscow. In Moscow they arranged their concerts on the best stages (even at the Bolshoi Theatre 3).

At that time I was a very active pioneer [a member of the pioneer organization 4] and attended drama studio.

By the way I played the leading role in some poetical play; unfortunately I do not remember its name. So I was among representatives of progressive youth who were entrusted with preparation of Cossacks for their trip to Moscow. But in fact we simply distributed badges among them. Their concert tour to Moscow was a success, and they celebrated it by a great booze-up in the local Dvorets kultury in Millerovo after their return. [Dvorets kultury in the USSR was a large club establishment, where people arranged different exhibitions, dancing parties, etc.] The booze-up turned to be so shameful that authorities decided to disperse the chorus. But Sholokhov, who was in favor at that time, took their side. So the chorus remained safe. In connection with Sholokhov I remember a funny episode: together with other boys we were playing volleyball in the yard, when a car dropped in and Sholokhov appeared with huge suitcases. We rushed to help him, because the suitcases looked very heavy.

Sholokhov told us that he had just arrived from Paris and brought 2 suitcases full of… nails. You see, at that time nails (as well as many other goods) were in short supply in our country.
When I was a pupil of the 9th form (it was in 1936), my father was sent to Bronnitsy near Moscow. There he worked as a drugstore manager (as usual). We lived there (as well as in Millerovo) at a service apartment. Mum kept the house alone: we had no assistants. We had not many books: possibly due to our frequent moves from one place to another. I liked to read, but had not enough time for it, because in addition to school studies I was engaged in music: I learned to play violin. I did it with pleasure, and gave it up with pleasure, too. But my delicate ear for music turned to be very useful to me in the army. You know, the war was a great tragedy for all people, it was an arduous trial, and people seemed to think about nothing except the war. But it lasted 4 long years, and for the most part its participants were young people. Therefore it was desirable to while sorrow sometimes: they arranged contests of amateur art activities. [Amateur art activities included dancing, singing, etc. in collectives or individually] I participated in one of such contests. Together with other participants we were brought to Moscow by planes. I was the leading singer. We sang the popular song Ty Odessit, Mishka!  (You Are From Odessa, Mike!).

There in Bronnitsy I finished my school. My school was very good. I was always very interested in studying. Our teachers were very good, too. I had got good friends: we were friends all life long. At present nobody of them is alive. I was always interested in exact science, though the humanities were always deep in my soul. I guess that’s why late in my life I became a fiction writer.

I already mentioned my parents several times, and now I’ll tell you about them in more detail. I wish to do it right now because I am going to pass to the next part of my narration when my parents were not with me. I feel sad to note that I remember not much about them. You see, all my prewar life has faded from my mind. I guess astonishing events I had to participate in later were at the bottom of it.

My parents’ names were Sara Pavlovna (nee Manevich) and Efim Natanovich Katsenelson (Belarusian by birth). I do not remember where exactly they were born. They were born in 1890s. All their life long my parents worked at different drugstores. One might say that I was born in a drugstore: my parents occupied a service apartment near to the drugstore. I know neither how they met nor how they got married. I already mentioned that I do not know my father’s education level. I think he graduated from a University or a Medical College, because he was considered to be a pharmacist of the highest qualification. My father was a gentle and easy-tempered person. But my Mum was hot-blooded. I already mentioned that she got no special education (she only finished a school), but living together with my father she acquired knowledge and skill and always worked as a pharmacist in the drugstores my father was the head of. Our parents were not authoritarian, but rather respectful to me and my brother. Our family observed no traditions; the family was absolutely not religious. To tell the truth, our family was absolutely not Jewish.

I do not remember my parents talking about politics. I guess that they were the so called real Soviet people. I remember almost nothing about brothers and sisters of my parents: I only remember that my father’s brother and sister lived in the center of Moscow. I visited them when I studied in Moscow. I used to come to them on holidays to watch military parades on the Red Square. I have a faint idea of my Mum’s brother: he was a well-known intelligence officer Manevich. [Manevich Lev Efimovich (1898-1945), an intelligence officer, a Hero of the Soviet Union (1965, posthumously). Most probably the interviewee is mistaken, because patronymics of Manevich and the interviewee’s mother do not coincide.] During the war my father was again sent to a new place of work: to Dedovsk near Moscow. Parents lived there for some time and died in the beginning of 1950s.

In our boyhood days we were good friends with my brother Naum. He held me in respect as his elder brother. He became a professional soldier, too. He served in Ukraine, but he was no conjurer and rose only to the rank of captain. When we grew up we became completely alienated and I blame his wife for it. Naum died in 1980s. He had got a daughter and a grandson, but they turned their back on me.

In 1938 I entered the Moscow Power Economy College named after Molotov 5. By the way, Polina Zhemchuzhina, his wife was the director of the College. I left the parents’ house because it was too far to go to Moscow for everyday studies. So I settled in a hostel. [Hostel is a specially constructed apartment house for residing of students, workers or other citizens during their work or study.] When a first year student, I got seriously ill with chronic malaria. Therefore I had to repeat my first year course.

During the war

In 1939 I started my studies again as a first-year student, when a sudden government decree ordered to take all first-year students away in the army. People were told that students were taken for a year term. All of us moved to Ukraine by freight cars. We came to Zhitomir and started studying military science. I got to the school for gunners and radio operators. They taught us how to handle a machine gun and a radio set. In spite of the fact that radio studies were much more difficult, it was rather easy for me. You see, people with tuneful ear were able to learn Morse code easily, and I was one of them. I studied very well; therefore I finished the School before the appointed time. Together with several soldiers we were sent to a military unit.

There I was given the rank of first sergeant and started my service at the aircraft garrison near Zhitomir. Taking into account my successful studies at School, they appointed me the lead aircraft radio operator. But suddenly a great trouble came upon me: I suffered from air sickness! So I was sent to health examination. There I was examined thoroughly and the results were not encouraging: I was certified as unfit for flights. I became a radio operator at the airdrome. As our military unit was in the process of regimentation, we lacked airplanes and specialists. Therefore sometimes it was necessary to replace my comrades. Sometimes I served as a rigger. During that period of time I took advantage of the situation and made my first parachute jump. It happened to be not very successful, and received a scolding.

Early in the morning of June 22, 1941 we were alarmed 6. While running out of barracks I asked my comrade Lenya Minz ‘Lenya, what happened?’ And he answered ‘Mikhail, war burst out.’ A little bit later we were standing near a loud-speaker and listening to Molotov’s speech. He finished his speech with the following words: ‘Our enemy will be defeated. We will celebrate victory.’ During the first hours of war we came across manifestations of panic. People informed us that German troops had landed in the forest near our airdrome. We immediately sent soldiers to search in the forest, but they found nobody. On the second day of the war our regiment first saw fire: we assisted our armies defending Ukraine. We began digging entrenchments and preparing our planes for fighting missions.

Right after the beginning of war I was chosen the Komsomol leader of the regiment 7. It is necessary to say that in every military unit there were political officers 8. Besides there was a secretary of the local Communist Party Organization and a Komsomol leader. So having no war experience, I became one of those leaders. According to the regiment hierarchy I became the sixth person in it, while my rank was only a first sergeant.

Before the war we fulfilled flights only in the daytime. But during the war we had to do it at nights. Once it was necessary for me to check some radio equipment in the air. It couldn't be helped, and I started. And (what a miracle!) it appeared that at night I could fly without any unpleasant feelings. Since that time I started flying. You remember that I was a gunner. A lot of gunners were killed by that time, therefore I was ashamed for not participating in fighting missions. Besides I kept in mind that I was a Jew. I did not want somebody to say ‘Of course, a Jew will never risk his life.’ To tell the truth, I have to tell you that nobody reminded me about my nationality, but for some reason I felt greater responsibility. I always realized that war time demanded people of different specialties: some of them probably never held weapon, they had to support the huge mechanism of war. I am far from considering their contribution to victory to be insignificant, but for me it was important to fight in the right way holding weapon in hands.

At the end of October 1941 our regiment shifted its base to Lipetsk near Moscow. It was hard time. Germans were spoiling for a fight. It was terrible to think about it, but sometimes it seemed that they would manage to capture Moscow. German army moved along the road from Orel to Tula and we had to attack them from air. We succeeded in it: that road became a burial place of thousands of fascist soldiers, who tried to get to Moscow from the south. At the same time a lot of our military units had to fall back.

In December 1941 there came a long-awaited turning point at the front. Enemies were stopped and their running fight started from Moscow. Contribution of our regiment in it was great. Our activities could be compared with emergency department work. Day and night we appeared where it was the most necessary for us to be at that moment. We waited for the order to start being already on boards our planes combat-ready.

I’ll never forget my first fighting mission. I was a member of Stepan Kharchenko's crew. The flight was low-level. On the earth we saw a column of motor vehicles and a column of soldiers on the move. The commander ordered ‘Fire!’ The plane shook when I started firing. We saw our bullets tearing German lorries into pieces. My heart beat with joy: from that day on I was able not only to fly, but also to fight! Since that day they started calling me the Fighting Komsomol Leader of the Regiment. I was proud of it. I am somewhat previous telling you that during the war time I participated in 37 fighting starts. To tell the truth, it was not very easy: I used to be above the target, Germans fired at me from the earth, I used to lie face downwards behind a machine gun and fired back. Our machine guns were worse than that of Germans. Later our plane was equipped with a gun, but it was not me who operated it (it was a radio operator who did it). As for me, I had to hit planes (so to say, to wound them), and he used to bring them down using the new gun.

Right at the beginning of the war state of Soviet army affairs was extremely distressing. Our regiment attacked objectives in rear of Germans. We participated in the raid to Konigsberg [now Kaliningrad]. We also bombed Lithuania and Belarus occupied by Germans. We dreamed of bombing Berlin, but it was impossible: our airplane could take maximal amount of fuel, but it was not enough for such a flight. We urgently constructed additional tanks 350 litres each. Pilots had to be at the controls for more than 10 hours. The most part of the flight path was above the sea. I participated in one of such flights. Our bombardment of Berlin came for Germans as a surprise. It was a success, but we were very nervous, because we were very far from home! After Berlin we bombed Budapest (Hungary was an ally of Germany).

In February 1942 we received new planes from Khabarovsk. It came in very handy: in our regiment there remained only 10 planes. Those planes were constructed with financial support of Komsomol members at the Far East.

In March 1942 there appeared a new air-unit: long-range aircraft. Our regiment became its part. Our air-unit had an opportunity to implement fast moves from one front to another.

Here I’d like to say that in spite of the fact that I participated in military actions, I went on working as a regiment Komsomol leader. I don’t like high-sounding words, but I really inspired soldiers, convinced them, and explained the situation. People trusted me and asked my advice. I guess that if I did not fly (and the majority of Komsomol leaders did not fly) I would not be able to act that way. It was impossible to meet soldiers’ eyes if you knew that in some minutes they would risk their lives and you were a featherbed soldier!

Before each fighting start we used to hold a meeting not to explain the mission, but to inspire fighters. At every meeting we approved a letter to Stalin with our oaths to do soldier's duty. Usually it was me who wrote and read out those letters.

Since September 1942 our regiment participated in Stalingrad Battle 9. We fulfilled military missions day and night, rain or shine. Often we made low-level flights. We bombed the city streets. Frequently our armies were on the one side of the street, and our enemies were on the other one. I took part in fighting starts till February 1943, until German army was encircled and smashed. Our regiment fulfilled thousands of fighting starts. Fights were uneasy: we had to oppose German planes of the latest design. Those modern pursuit planes used to hunt for our planes during landing, when we became apparent to the naked eye in the light of landing searchlights. A lot of times I had to defend our plane by shooting in such situation.

After Stalingrad our regiment shifted its base toward the West. Germans were going to gain revenge for the defeat in Stalingrad. They wanted to do it near Kursk in summer of 1943 10. They were going to encircle and smash a plenty of our armies. So our targets were Kursk, Belgorod, and Orel. Till now I remember the battle scenes I watched from the cabin of our plane: star shells slowly going down on parachutes, lighting up the earth; hundreds of soldiers moving here and there; and explosions surrounding our plane (Germans fired at us).

In summer of 1943 we were moved to an airdrome near Kalinin [now Tver]. We had to take part in defense of Leningrad which was besieged almost from the very beginning of the war 11. We had to bomb enemy positions in Leningrad region. There we used a thousand-kilogram bomb for the first time. Once we were attacked by an enemy pursuit plane, our radio operator was wounded, shell fragments damaged the fuselage of our plane. Nevertheless we were lucky: the plane did not catch fire and we managed to land safely.

During the battle of Leningrad air force of Germans was very active, especially at nights. During one of the fighting starts I felt it on my own back. For me it was very difficult to distinguish the lights of a pursuit plane from headlights of lorries moving along the road. In that case I had to remember that lights of the plane could be turned on only for a short time. If I noticed it, I fired a shot. It was difficult to aim at night time. My machine gun was situated in the tail-end of the plane, therefore my field of view was not large. However I managed to hit the light of the German plane. After that our second gunner smashed it using the gun (the gun was always very helpful!).

During the intervals I used to watch the blacked out Leningrad. There dominated the dark block of St. Isaac’s Cathedral. [St. Isaac’s Cathedral in St. Petersburg was built in the beginning of the XIX century by the architect August Montferrand.] I’ll never forget barrage balloons which protected the city from bombs (air-raid precautions). Many times I was fighting in the air over large cities and capitals of different countries, but I never saw that kind of protection system.

Fights over Leningrad lasted the whole month. During that period of time we fulfilled more than 500 fighting starts.

At the end of 1943 we were ordered to bomb military objectives near Helsinki, because Finland was an ally of fascist Germany.

In the beginning of 1944 we got new targets in the Gulf of Finland. After that all summer long we fought liberating Sevastopol, Crimea, Western Ukraine, Moldova, Romania and Hungary.

In winter and spring of 1945 our regiment took part in the liberation of Poland.

At that time we bombed Konigsberg for the 2nd time during the war 12. The task was more complicated for us, because German emplacements had been fortified with a great number of antiaircraft guns which fired at our planes. We suffered heavy losses, but in the beginning of April Konigsberg was taken.

It was clear that that period of war was all-important. Our regiment shifted its base: we moved to Poland. We were 600 kilometers far from Berlin: for us it was a stone's throw. On April 10 we bombed enemy ships in the Baltic Sea ports. Our mission was not to permit German armies to land, because those armies were going to assist the Berlin garrison. On April 17 we bombed the fortified zone on the left bank of Oder River. About 100 searchlights were turned on simultaneously and highlighted the zone. German disposition became clearly visible. And on April 20 we fulfilled one of the fiercest bombing attacks at Berlin. At the end of April we again bombed German armies in the encircled Berlin. I participated in those last fighting starts. The last bomb was dropped on Berlin on April 28, 1945.

At last the long-awaited victory came. I’ll never forget the scene of people cheering the news that victory had come. Our regiment was at the front line all the war long. We destroyed 243 planes on enemy airdromes and 48 ones in air fights. In our regiment 29 persons were decorated with the Gold Star medal of the Hero of the Soviet Union; and one person received the award twice.

Here I’ll tell you about my awards, do not consider me a boaster. For my service in battle I was awarded 2 Orders of the Red Star, medals For the Defense of Moscow, For the Defense of Leningrad, and For the Defense of Stalingrad 13.

During my army service since 1939 and till the victory day I did not come across any manifestations of anti-Semitism (there were even no hints at it). Not being afraid to seem stilted, I should say that we were members of the friendly multinational family. By the way, it is necessary to note that the regiment secretary of the local Party organization was Anatoly Yukelson, and the political leader of the 2nd regiment of our division was Ilya Gherson. As you already know, I was the regiment Komsomol leader (Katsenelson!). Therefore soldiers used to say as a joke that political work in our division was based on 3 "sons". So anti-Semitism was out of the question!

After the war

So the war was won, and the process of demobilization was started. I started thinking about my future life. One the one hand, I had an opportunity to return to the College where I was called up from. On the other hand, my friends told me that there was an opportunity to stay in the army, become an officer and enter a military academy. The chief of our political department persuaded me to go for studies to the Military Political Academy. He also suggested me to remain at him, to become his assistant in Komsomol work. Of course that was the way to rise very rapidly, but it was a political way. In that case I would immediately become a major and get large salary. But I did not want to make such a career. You see, during my service I did my best to avoid advances in rank: I was afraid that it would delay my demobilization. Since my childhood I was interested in technology. Therefore I turned down the proposal of the political department leader and persuaded my chiefs to let me off for studies at the Military Academy named after Zhukovsky at the radio engineering faculty. [Air Force Academy named after Zhukovsky is the largest center of aviation science and preparation of engineering, scientific, and pedagogical staff.] As military academies admitted only officers, I was quickly advanced in rank and became lieutenant. But in spite of the fact that the regiment command gave me official permission, they were very dissatisfied with my forthcoming departure, therefore I was afraid that they could change their mind. My documents had been already sent to the Academy, it was necessary to hasten. So on the day of departure I even did not go to say goodbye to the regiment political leader (by the way, my overcoat remained in his study and I never got it back!). 

It is necessary to say that during the war I got an occasion to be in Moscow on business trip. There I went to the Academy to learn about entrance rules and to form my own opinion about the situation. Wandering about, I saw through the huge glass door that a person in rank of senior lieutenant was washing the floor in the hall. I thought ‘And what shall I (a first sergeant!) be obliged to do here?’ And I left the Academy thinking that I would never be back.

But after the end of the war I was given a courteous reception. Few of entrants had military awards. I passed through the entrance examinations for access course at the radio engineering faculty. But on the bulletin board I saw my name in the list of not accepted with a postscript to come to the Academy direction for an interview. I polished my boots (for some reason it seemed to me very important) and went to the Academy chief. He was very kind to me and said that he considered me to be quite ready to become a first-year student. I said that I came directly from an earth-house at the airdrome. He answered ‘Get back to your military unit and come next year to study at the first course’. I told him about various tricks I had to resort to, about my overcoat in the study of our political leader, etc. He said ‘Don’t worry about it, I’ll put a call-letter for the next year in your documents.’

He did it. I knew that every document went through the Staff of Long-Range Aviation before we received it. The staff was situated next door and I went there. They listened to me attentively and suggested to take my documents and enter the Leningrad Air Force Academy named after Mozhaysky. [The Leningrad Air Force Academy named after Mozhaysky was founded on March 27, 1941.] That suited me fine. Besides my brother Naum lived in Leningrad (he was a student of the Leningrad Military Engineering School). Our last meeting took place before the war and I was looking forward to seeing him.

In the Leningrad Academy they already started studying. I passed in my documents. They asked me to wait, and a teacher of mathematics came up to me. He came to examine me. Till now I remember his question: ‘What is logarithm?’ I gave a correct answer and became a student of the access course (they lodged me in the hostel).

There were 63 students at our course. Almost all teachers were Jews. I was chosen to be the Komsomol leader of the course, and later - a secretary of the local Party organization. Sorry, I forgot to tell you that I became a Communist Party member in 1942 at the front line.

There we studied one year (most time was devoted to reviewing of the school program). Besides that we had a lot of work introducing order in the city: we cleared away blockages, cleaned streets (in fact by that time Leningrad still did not get rid of the blockade traces). In 1946 I became a first-year student of the radio engineering faculty of the Academy. Our teachers were remarkable persons. Almost all of them were outstanding scientists and experienced teachers. Later, when I became a teacher myself, I tried to copy teaching manners of my favorite teachers.

I really appreciate knowledge that I received in the Academy. Nevertheless I ought to tell you about shameful events which took place in it during the so-called Doctors’ Plot 14. Babin, a local political leader was the initiator of Jew-baiting. Certainly he only implemented government decrees, but he did it with undisguised pleasure. So he started searching something to begin with. At last he found it: filling in the entrance form, one of the students Mikhail Stanovsky wrote down that he was a Ukrainian, while at a single glance at him it became clear that he was a real Jew. The main claim was why he had kept his nationality from people.

But Mikhail did not plan to keep it from anybody. He grew up at a children's home in Ukraine, where they wrote down in his documents that he was a Ukrainian.

Besides that one day Mikhail missed a local Communist Party meeting, because he left for a regularly scheduled checkers tournament (he was a USSR champion in checkers). He was blamed for changing the Communist Party for game of checkers and was administered a rebuke. But that sort of crime demanded not a simple reprimand, but a severe one. And it was me (the secretary of the local Communist Party organization) who was guilty for that. As a result they dismissed me from the secretary position and I got ticked off (they even tried to check if I had kept my real name [Moissey] from people). By the way, few of us knew that during the war Stanovsky was an attack plane pilot and fulfilled 30 fighting starts. He was the only one at the Academy who was decorated with the highest military award: Order of the Combat Red Banner 15. But at the meeting of the Academy communist members Stanovsky was eliminated from the CPSU. [CPSU (the Communist Party of the Soviet Union) was the only political party in the USSR from the middle of 1920s till 1991.]

He was expelled from the Academy and kicked out from the army. Then he left for Odessa, his native city 16. Here I’d like to tell you that many years later I met Mikhail Stanovsky in Israel, where he came to see his son. He told me that after his return to Odessa, he found job at a scientific research institute and soon sent a complaint to Moscow about his illegal expulsion from the Communist Party. Only after Stalin's death he received a notice that his complaint would be considered. Soon they sent a special plane to bring him to Moscow. There he was reinstated in his former position in the Communist Party and was suggested to return to army. But he preferred to refuse.

At the end of 1940s one of my fellow-students invited me to his friend. There I saw a large young crew and noticed a girl whom I saw home that night. Her name was Ludmila Berezovskaya. Soon she became my wife. Ludmila graduated from the Leningrad Technological College, she is an electrical engineer.

Ludmila was born in Leningrad. During the war her father was at the front line, and she together with the mother Fira Lazarevna had to stay in the besieged Leningrad. Fira Lazarevna worked at a factory (she spent 2 hours and a half to get to her factory). Ludmila with other girls and women watched city roofs to put out German fire-bombs. She used to draw water from the Neva River through an ice-hole. She saw people falling down dead from starvation in the streets.

In 1952 I graduated from the Academy and went to serve to Lipetsk. I was already married and had a one-year-old child. That place was familiar to me, because during the war our regiment was located there some time. But at that time we spent all our time at the airdrome and did not manage to see the sights of the city: in the daytime we prepared our planes for fighting starts and at nights we fulfilled those starts. That winter was very snowy: if it was necessary to reach the city, we used sledge.

Now I was going to live in that city with my family. I liked the city. There is a beautiful river Voronezh in it. The city is ancient: it was founded on the place where people mined iron ore in the XVIII century. I was going to deliver lectures at the Higher Educational Tactical Air Courses. My subject was called Martial Art of Use of Radio-Electronic Equipment. I’ll never forget my first lecture. I entered the lecture hall and listened to the report of officer in charge. He was in the rank of colonel, and I was only a senior lieutenant. I was very nervous. I came up to the table and opened the class-book. I looked at the students and could scarcely believe my eyes: I saw 33 colonels sitting in front of me! But I was carefully prepared for the lecture (I read that lecture at home for imaginary audience!). So everything was fine.

It was always very interesting for me to teach. I understood very well what kind of people I trained. Almost all of them were fighting pilots of high class, most of them overcame all stresses of war. Besides I knew that knowledge gained from my lectures they would use during flights on the planes of the latest design (if it would be necessary, they would use it during fighting starts). Soon together with my colleague Kostakov we wrote a textbook Navigation and Sighting Devices. The textbook appeared to be very useful, and it proved to be true absolutely unexpectedly.

Soon after the textbook was published, a group of cadets arrived at our Academy for flying practice. I was introduced to them as the author of their textbook. One of them said ‘Do you know where we keep your book?’ - ‘So where?’ - ‘We use to sit on it.’ And I understood that it was a compliment: if they left the textbook on a table, someone was able to grab and take it for his own.

In the middle of 1960s pilots from the cosmonauts group often came to our Academy. They studied to fly using aircraft technique of the latest design. Flights on modern airplanes trained cosmonauts to be extremely attentive and to take decisions very quickly. You see, a pilot on board an airplane experiences much greater overload than on board a spaceship. One day Gherman Titov (a USSR cosmonaut #2) visited us. [Gherman Titov was a pilot and a cosmonaut of the USSR, Hero of the Soviet Union and lieutenant-general. He was born in 1935. His first space flight happened in 1961.] We liked Gherman Titov very much: he was modest, competent, and charming. We took a photograph of our group to keep as a souvenir.

Once at the end of 1960s we had to carry out a very serious mission: to show new aviation technics to the top management of the countries of the Warsaw Pact. [The Warsaw Pact or Warsaw Treaty Organization, officially named the Treaty of Friendship, Co-operation and Mutual Assistance was an organization of Central and Eastern European communist states. It was established in 1955 in Warsaw, Poland to counter the alleged threat from the NATO alliance.] I had to give them a report on our planes which they were going to buy (to show them to advantage!). So I gave an hour's talk on new opportunities of the radio-electronic equipment in modern airplanes. I managed. They asked a lot of questions, and after the end of my report there was a public dinner.

My service was very interesting. Time slid by. I served in Lipetsk more than 20 years: I arrived there in the rank of senior lieutenant and was demobilized as a colonel. In Moscow they took into consideration my age and sent us an order about my pensioning off. For a long time (about 2 years) my chiefs concealed me from the supervising services. They needed me working and it was a great pleasure for me. At last in 1975 there came another order about pensioning off, and my name was listed. So I had to say goodbye to my friends and students and leave Lipetsk.

From Lipetsk we moved to Leningrad, where my wife was born. At first we lived in a communal apartment near Fontanka River 17. One day I was walking along the Fontanka River and saw the name of the organization: Research Institute of Steel. You see, in Lipetsk there was a branch of the Moscow Institute of Steel and they invited me there to deliver lectures. They even suggested me to accept a post at them, but my wife wanted to move to Leningrad. So I went to the institute and said that I wanted to work for them. They were happy to take me and immediately decided to send me on business trip to Yerevan. In Yerevan they arranged output of computers, and our aim was to examine them and make a decision about purchase. I was appointed to be in charge. At that moment I recollected that I had forgotten to pay party dues and asked if it was possible to do it at my new place of work. They agreed and the secretary of the local communist party organization asked my surname and took the money. Meanwhile the Institute director ordered to buy tickets to Yerevan urgently.

I went home quickly to let my wife know about the situation. I had scarcely entered the room when the telephone rang. My new chief (a Jew, by the way!) called me to say ‘I am sorry, but we cannot give you job.’ It was the first manifestation of anti-Semitism I came across, besides the episode in the Academy connected with Doctors’ Plot. So I lost my work having no opportunity to start. Then I went to a regional military registration and enlistment office.  [Military registration and enlistment offices in the USSR and in Russia are special institutions that implement call-up plans.] They sent me to work as a chief of the civil defence staff at a building organization. [Civil defense is an effort to prepare civilians for military attack. It uses the principles of emergency operations: prevention, mitigation, preparation, response, or emergency evacuation, and recovery.]

A little bit later I became the chief of the civil defence staff at Glavleningradstroy, the leading building organization of the city. It was a great organization: there were about 200,000 employees. They kept under control all construction projects in the city. I worked honestly (as I always did!), but I was not into it. Very often they required only formal actions and neutral reports. And I was accustomed to implement more serious tasks, I wanted my job to captivate me entirely. I started searching for something else and became an active lecturer of the Znanie society. [Znanie (Knowledge), the All-Union society for propagation of political and scientific knowledge was created in July 1947.]

Lecturers of that society delivered lectures at different places: factories, building sites, research institutes. The main topic of my lectures was world situation. I even became a well-known lecturer in the city. People said that I used to give interesting and bright information. When they asked for a lecture, they often asked to send me. Sometimes they said ‘Send us please a lecturer who is very much like Levitan.’ [Yury Levitan (1914-1983) was the most famous soviet radio announcer. During the Great Patriotic War he read reports from fronts. It was he who declared: ‘Great Patriotic War against fascist aggressors was victoriously finished!’ Levitan's voice was an integral part of the war atmosphere.] Indeed, my voice sounded very well, nobody could fall asleep during my lectures.

So I worked at Glavleningradstroy 7 or 8 years. I was able to go on working, my coworkers put high value on my work, I liked my work.

But at that time my daughter, her husband and their little child left for Israel. They both were doctors, and in Israel they had to pass through examination to confirm their professional status. They were having a hard time, therefore we together with my wife decided to go there and help them at home. As it was clear that we were leaving for a long time, I had to leave my service.

We went to Israel on December 27, 1990. We were afraid to be caught by the war in Persian Gulf. [The Persian Gulf War was a conflict between Iraq and a coalition of 34 countries led by the United States. It followed Iraqi capture of Kuwait in August 1990.]  And it happened. The first thing we saw in our daughter’s apartment (in the hall) in Jerusalem was a gas mask. In the room there was a special cabin of anti-gas protection for our grandson. State of emergency was declared. We heard air-raid warnings many times a day. An official from the Soviet Consulate called us and suggested to come back home by special flight. Of course we refused and stayed with our children. 
Rocket bombardments of Israel became frequent.

We helped our children as we could: my wife cooked, I went for a walk with our grandson and put out the rubbish. We were short of money. We did not starve, but could not afford buying local newspapers. One day in the garbage can I saw accumulation of papers in Russian. I took them home and read with great interest. The most interesting for me was to read about Israeli civil defence actions during that war. I participated in those actions: used my gas mask, placed my grandson into the cabin of anti-gas protection, etc. I realized that my personal experience in that war and everything I read about it in newspapers would be interesting to people in Russia. Having come back home, I wrote about it. Later I decided to write about Israel as a country.

So my next book was called First-Hand Report on Israel. It was published, they printed 10,000 copies. The book was quickly sold out. Later I wrote more books about Israel and one about Spain. I’d like to tell you that my first trip to Israel changed my life. Due to my new hobby (writing books) my life became rich and interesting. Total number of copies of my books is about 25,000. They all were sold out. I’d prefer to say the same another way: they all were bought, and I hope they all were read by people.
Regarding my first book: in 1993 I went to Israel for the 2nd time and took some copies with me. One of them I sent to the ambassador of Russia in Israel Alexander Bovin. [Alexander Bovin (1930-2004), a famous journalist, diplomat and politician was an ambassador of Russia in Israel (1991-1997).]

He was well-known in Russia as a journalist and political correspondent. During hard times Bovin managed to tell people some sort of the truth, and many people in Russia are grateful to him for that. Bovin thanked me for the book and said that he had read it with interest. He put spirit into me.

Here I’d like to tell you about my children in more detail. My wife and I are proud of them.

My son Boris was born in 1951 in Leningrad, and my daughter Alla was born in 1956 in Lipetsk. My wife always worked (in contrast to many other wives of professional soldiers), therefore my children attended kindergarten.

Later in Lipetsk they studied at a mathematical school. They both were excellent pupils and finished school with gold medals. Being schoolchildren, they were twice awarded with permits to pioneer camp Artek and Orlenok. [Artek was the All-Union and international Young Pioneer camp in the Soviet Union. It was established in 1925 near the Black Sea in Crimea. Destination Artek was considered to be an honorable award for Soviet children as well as internationally.]

Having finished her school, Alla entered the 1st Leningrad Medical College. She successfully graduated from it and became a doctor. In 1990 together with her family she left for Israel.

Boris decided to follow in my footsteps and entered the same military academy which I had graduated from many years ago. But he chose a profession which we knew nothing about in our time: a cyberneticist. After graduation he became an officer, a cyberneticist in the army (military-space troops). He served near Ussuriisk. Six years later he was sent to a military unit near Leningrad. In 1990s he was demobilized. At present he is a businessman.

When Stalin died, our family was in deep mourning. My wife sobbed violently, and I also was close to despair: I thought that our life was over.

I interpreted Hungarian and Czechoslovakian events [18, 19] like all other Soviet people, i.e. like we were ordered to interpret it. I supported Perestroika 20, because it was initiated by Gorbachev, the CPSU Secretary General 21. I can tell you that I always supported authorities, I never was their opponent. Till now I consider some events of that time to be positive. I’ll never reconcile myself to paid education and paid medicine (I guess we are going to have both). Besides I am oppressed with increasing influence of religion in our state which is secular according to Constitution. And I do not like the so called freedom of debauch. In the streets I hate advertising of the American film Sex in the City. Sometimes I see terrible magazines and I am afraid that they can fall into children's hands. I hold our President in high respect. [Vladimir Putin is the President of Russia.] But it seems to me that he should pay more attention to the army. You see, a boy (a son of my acquaintances) graduated from my Academy, arrived at his destination (in Urals) and got a poor salary of 8,000 rubles (about $320).

I visit Hesed Avraham Welfare Center 22 only when my wife receives food packages there (I am a porter). As for me, I refused to receive food packages there: I guess there are a lot of needy. But I often visit the Veterans Organization [Petersburg Organization of Jews - war veterans, disabled soldiers, former ghetto prisoners, partisans and citizens of the besieged Leningrad]. Sometimes I celebrate Sabbath there.

Glossary:

Isak Avram Levi
Sofia
Bulgaria
Interviewer: Dimitar Bojilov
Date of interview: September 2004

Isak Levi is a tall and big man with an impressive sense of humor. Despite the fact that he is advanced in age, he strictly observes the traditions; he also visits every day the ‘Bet Am’ Jewish community center to have lunch with his friends. Punctuality and correctness are qualities of extreme importance to him. As he claims, it is out of question for him to enter into an engagement and not to fulfill it. In the last several years he has devoted himself to mapping the houses inhabited by Jewish families in Sofia in the first half of the 20th century. Isak Levi is a member of the Board of the Sofia Synagogue, as well as of the Bnai Brith Jewish organization.

My family background

Growing up

During the War

After the War

Glossary

It is known from history that 380,000 Jews were expelled by Ferdinand and Isabela during the 15th century. [Editors note: It is hard to estimate the number of Sephardim expelled from Spain and Portugal; according to the Encyclopedia Judaica a number of 250,000 subsequently settled in Ottoman territory, North-West Africa, Italy and Western Europe.] They left via the Mediterranean, some of them landing on the Italian coast, but they were not welcome there and thus they moved to the Balkans. [cf. Expulsion of the Jews from Spain] 1.

At that time the Balkans were subject to a lot of changes – for more than a hundred years Bulgaria had already been enslaved by the Turks. The Jews landed on the scattered islands [along the coastal line] and were accepted by the Turks. At the beginning the Jews settled in the cities of Salonika and Adrianople [today Edirne, Turkey].

Except for the language, we, Sephardic Jews 2 differ from Ashkenazi Jews in terms of some cultural characteristics. Our art, our customs and our ‘character’ are more lyrical, while the Ashkenazi Jews are more resolute; I would call them more ‘emerald.’ We have kept the soft vowels in our pronunciation – ‘e’ and ‘i’ – which are predominant in our manner of speech, on the account of the hard ones – ‘o’ and ‘a.’

Ten years ago I was in Dublin, the capital of Ireland, where the Jews are Ashkenazim and I visited the synagogue there. I met the people there and I wished to recite the Kaddish, which is repeated ten times during the service. So I asked to be allowed to recite the last Kaddish, which is usually given to foreign guests. I recited it and everyone was astonished as I did it the way I had learned it – with the soft vowels.

However, the difference between our old Spanish language, Ladino 3, and contemporary Spanish is not that great, therefore we can easily understand contemporary Spanish.

My family background

My father’s kin is from Salonika. As far as my father has told me, there were many rabbis, religious figures, as well as artists. [Having an absolute Jewish majority, Salonika was the ‘capital’ of the Balkan Sephardim up until the Holocaust.] Yet, they didn’t have many opportunities there to advance and my grandfather together with his brothers and their families decided to move to the north. [Both Salonika and Gorna Dzhumaya were Ottoman territories up until the First Balkan War (1912). The borders separating the two cities were drawn after the Second Balkan War (1913) when Macedonia was divided up in between Greece, Serbia and Bulgaria.]

Besides, Spain is a ‘high,’ mountainous country – the average height of its plateaus is about 2000 meters. Moreover, the climate there is very severe. After being chased from Spain, the Sephardic Jews arrived in Greece [The Ottoman Empire] by sea and settled in the southern part of the [Balkan] peninsula. Many of them couldn’t get used to the climate, and then they learned from travelers that there was a place to the north with four seasons, just like in Spain.

In Greece, especially in the south there are only two seasons – summer and winter. The winter is very humid and unpleasant, while the summer is unbearably hot, therefore many of the families moved to the middle part of the Balkan Peninsula – Bulgaria, in the region of Dupnitsa and Gorna Dzhumaya. The winter is nice here and the weather is comparatively cool here.

[Editors’ note: The reason for migrating from the Aegean littoral to the Balkan inlands was probably for economic rather than climatic reasons. Sephardim being typically engaged in textile production in Salonika and textile trade to Central Europe settled in cities en route towards the Danube, connecting South-Eastern and Central Europe. Gorna Dzhumaya and Dupnitsa are located in strategic positions in the valley of the Struma River, on the way from Salonika to Sofia, and further to the Danube.]

And so, my paternal ancestors moved to Dupnitsa. Most of my father’s uncles and aunts were tailors and shoemakers. All of them were ‘Judaikos,’ that is, people who professed Judaism. This means that the perfect Jew should observe 613 bans, that is, things which are forbidden, and respectively there are 613 rights, that is, things which he is allowed to do. [Editors’ note: According to the Rabbinic tradition the full number of mitzvot (commandments, including both prohibitions and precepts) is 613, that is, taryag mitzvot.]

My father’s grandfather was a rabbi, but his children did not keep this tradition and oriented themselves toward crafts – shoemaking and tailoring, while my grandfather was involved in the goldsmith’s trade as well.

My father devoted himself both to trade and tailoring. He started dealing with trade, yet simultaneously he led a strict religious life. At that time it was a rule for every Jew to visit the synagogue three times a day for a prayer – in the morning, in the afternoon and in the evening. It was observed by everybody and that is how my father got started.

My father, Avram-Nissim Levi, was born in Dupnitsa in 1865. He graduated from a school with extensive studies of the French language. And if I know a little French, I owe it to him, as he was my first teacher.

He and his two brothers used to live for some time in Dupnitsa and after that they moved to Gorna Dzhumaya. He got married there, but his wife didn’t bear him any children. He was one of the prosperous traders in Gorna Dzhumaya. He used to sell manufactured goods to people from the neighboring villages, as well as medicines known at that time, without actually being a pharmacist. People knew and trusted him.

It is interesting that in the period while he was living in Gorna Dzhumaya, he learned Turkish very well. [Gorna Dzhumaya was a part of ‘European Turkey’ until 1912.] Even much later, when we moved to Vratsa people realized that he knew Turkish and in the café, where they used to gather, they made him talk in Turkish to them. My father used to buy bread from a baker who was a Turk, and my father loved chatting in Turkish with him. They were very pleased with that, as though he was their teacher in Turkish. He only spoke it though, he couldn’t write a single letter.

[Editor’s note: The Latin script in Turkish, that made writing easy, was only introduced in the Turkish Republic after WWI. Before that the Arabic letters were used that made the writing in Turkish difficult and as a matter of fact relatively few people could master it.]

Until 1912, the First Balkan War 4, the town of Gorna Dzhumaya was held by the Turks. This war was considered a liberation war by the Bulgarians, as Bulgaria fought for its territories. Then the Turks were chased from the town of Gorna Dzhumaya but before leaving it, they burned it down.

The house where my father used to live was also burned to the ground. Then he raked up the ashes and found there a gold medallion with a diamond. From the strong fire and the high temperature the gold had melted into leaves but the diamond was preserved.

In accordance with the custom my father fixed a stake into the ground where he had found the diamond and from that place of one square meter he took the soil, which was considered to be the ashes of his wife, who burned to death during that fire, and thus he buried her. That diamond was a gift to her from him.

My father was 48 years old at the time. He decided to look for a new wife and therefore he came to Sofia. Before that he gave his shop to his assistant.

My mother, Rashel Levi, was born in Sofia. Her father is from the Behar kin. The Behars belong to the Jews who had lived here as early as Roman times. According to the legend the Jews who left to Europe in Roman times left posts of theirs at every one hundred kilometers; around these posts people started settling and thus towns were formed. In Bulgaria there was such a post around Ruse and Jews settled there.

The Behar kin was Sarah’s kin, the wife of Tsar Ivan Alexander [a Bulgarian tsar from the beginning of the 14th century], who gave birth to Tsar Ivan Shishman [the last Bulgarian tsar before the medieval Bulgarian state fell under the Ottomans in 1392]. I know this from my mother’s stories. Her father belonged to that kin, while her mother was from the Sephardic Jews.

My maternal grandfather was called Isak Behar, and I was named after him. Yet, my mother and her brother, who was two years older than her, were orphaned at an early age and were raised by their aunt as her own children. She herself had seven daughters and two sons.

My mother had attended school, she knew how to read and write. When she grew up, a young guy, a sandal maker from a good family saw her and wished to marry her, and she agreed. He was a Jew from Dupnitsa, who had come to Sofia and there he noticed her and proposed marriage to her. She accepted and married him, and thus she went to live in Dupnitsa at his father’s place.

Her husband was from the Pilosof kin. They lived together from 1910 to 1911 but in 1912 the war started [First Balkan War]. He went to fight in the war, and she was already pregnant. He left for the front line and never came back. Meanwhile she gave birth to a girl, my sister Oro.

Unfortunately, as it often happens in such cases the boy’s parents wanted to get rid of her. She wrote a letter to her brother and he took her back to Sofia together with the baby.

My father, Avram-Nissim Levi, learned about her when he went to Sofia and he proposed marriage to her. At first she didn’t agree but her brother’s wife – as he was already married and she used to live at their place – told her, probably because she wanted to get rid of her, ‘Well, he is the right man for you and you should take this chance!’

And so she accepted despite the great age difference: she was 23 to24 years old, while my father was 48; she could have been his daughter. And she got married to my father and they settled in Gorna Dzhumaya. I was born after nine months, in 1914, on 6th December during the Chanukkah holiday. I am my father’s firstborn child and my mother’s second one.

After that my mother gave birth every two years. Two years after I was born, in 1917, she gave birth to my brother David; after that, in 1919, my brother Mordechai was born; in 1921 my sister Adela was born; in 1923 my mother had a miscarriage, and in 1925 she gave birth to my youngest brother, Yosif. Our age difference was ten years.

Growing up

We had a hard, yet interesting life. We created such incredible relations and we have so many memories, a life-time unforgettable. I remember us, five kids playing in the yard and suddenly having an itch, and all of us scratching ourselves. A neighbor came then and told my mother to smear us with sulphur vaseline. And then we got undressed – the boys and the girls in separate rooms… How can you ever forget such a thing!
 

In the course of time, I, being the eldest among them, gradually turned into something like a ‘third’ parent for them, as my father was already 60 years old when my youngest brother Yosif was born.

Our mother tongue was Ladino. My mother initially talked to me in Ladino. When I turned two, my father started taking care of me and he began talking in Ivrit to me. At the age of five, I was already able to write from right to left and read fairy tales in Ivrit. Then I began to get ready for school. I studied both Bulgarian and Ivrit at the Jewish school.

Later, when I went to the Bulgarian school it was a little difficult for me there as I didn’t have the basis for the Bulgarian language that I used to have in my earliest years with Ivrit. We used to speak only in Ladino at home. Even for my father it was sometimes hard to talk in Bulgarian. My mother spoke Bulgarian better, yet it was difficult for her also.

In Gorna Dzhumaya we lived in comparatively good conditions. My father had fixed the house, which had once burned and we used to live in it. It had four rooms. We lived separately in it. We kept very friendly relations and always got on very well with the Bulgarians in the town.

I was born in 1914, and in 1915 the war started [cf. Bulgaria in World War I] 5, which lasted until 1918, and I remember that we lived on the ground floor of the house, while some officers used to live upstairs. We had a fountain inside the house linked to the town’s water-main.

For a certain period of time maids from the [neighboring] villages used to help my mother with the housework. They were treated in a very good manner. My father even used to help them a lot, especially with their weddings when they got married.

I used to study in Gorna Dzhumaya till the fourth grade, the first and second class at the Bulgarian junior high school, and then we moved to Vratsa.

In the 1920s my father’s business started declining because after 1918 the country’s territory was re-allotted. Bulgaria lost lots of territories, which were annexed to the territories of Yugoslavia and Greece. The clientele withdrew and my father decided to change his subsistence.

Therefore he decided that we move to Vratsa where he applied to become a rabbi. At that time my mother was pregnant with Yosif – that happened in September 1925. Local people there had to find a home for us. They found us lodging in a basement, and in this basement Yosif was born.

In a year we moved to some sheds where there used to be a church beforehand. And there we lived – all in all, we spent eight years in Vratsa. There I studied in the high school, like all my brothers did. Yosif studied only in the first grade.

Generally there weren’t any anti-Semitic movements at that time. Only two times synagogues were burned – in 1910 in Vratsa and in 1903 in Lom. It was done in most of the cases by strangers [people from other villages], who were later isolated by the local people and chased away in the end.

I was the only Jew in Vratsa’s high school and I had many good friends among the Bulgarians. Yet, there were several anti-Semites, who had come from other towns and they assaulted me, beat me and bothered me. The whole town used to gather in the central square and those anti-Semites used to threaten me there also, yet my friends shielded me from both sides and even walked me home.

In Vratsa my father began to perform all rituals during the holidays. Actually, my father never cut his hair, never shaved and always had a little beard, just like his brothers as well as his friends. My father visited the synagogue so regularly that he also attended courses for slaughtering in order to be a shochet, too. In Vratsa my father was very good at his job. He made friends with all Christian priests, too.

My father used to check the knife’s sharpness by passing a nail over its edge, no roughness had to be felt. Usually the knife’s edge for birds was around a span long, while for bigger animals it was longer.

In Vratsa I used to help my father by preparing the stamp put on the animal in order to mark it as being kosher. I used to take a rubber and hollow a few millimeters out in it with a little knife, so that the three letters in Ivrit, which mean ‘kosher’ [kaf, shin and resh], would stay protruding. The letters had to be written backwards in order to be printed correctly. This rubber is dipped in an ink-soaked inkpad. When the Jews came to the slaughtering house, they wanted to see if the meat had such a stamp and only then they bought it.

After the basement we set ourselves up in rooms. We lived in a room and a kitchen. My father and my mother inhabited the room. At that time she was breast-feeding Yosko. My two younger brothers used to sleep in the same room when they were little boys. I, and later my brother Yosif as well, used to live on a wooden bed in the kitchen, where we used to light a fire at first with wood and later with coal. It was cold there, there was no heating, yet we covered ourselves and got warmer. My sisters used to spread out on the floor and there they slept.

We were a family of eight people, occupying a very narrow space and we were a very united family. There was neither crying nor quarreling between us. There was never enough food, as we were many children. It was difficult for our parents to raise us, yet we grew up with a lot of joy also.

We lived on the outskirts of Vratsa, just where the town’s territory began. The climate there is wonderful and the place is known for its hard Balkan water [i.e. mountain water from the Balkan Mountain], very harmful for the health. Yet people have lived for many years there.

We had a lot of stones in the yard and when we were old enough we gathered, moved away all the stones and planted vegetables there. Thus my mother became a tiller for the first time. We also had a hencoop at home and the cocks used to wake us up every morning. You should never leave one hen per cock; they should be at least four hens because if it is only one, he might kill her.

At the age of 18 I was involved in some kind of conspiracy. A strike was organized by the northwestern schools in Bulgaria. Its leader was Zhivko Trapkov Oshavkov, who was the first teacher of social sciences in Bulgaria. For example, Zhelyo Zhelev [former Bulgarian president, 1990-1998] and Petko Simeonov [Bulgarian writer, journalist and politician] are students of his. The strike was directed at improving the conditions at school.

Oshavkov made a big mistake as he invited also representatives from Pernik, Vidin and Lom. All school representatives came and we gathered in the water-mill of Vratsa. The representative from Pleven said that he had to leave the meeting earlier because his mother was sick. So he left the meeting and in half an hour the police came. It turned out that he was an agent and had betrayed us.

We were moved to Sofia together with him, we were arrested and investigated. We were interrogated by Nikola Geshev. He was a former communist, who later turned on them and knew all their secrets as a result of which many people became his victims. He was a very clever and talented cop. When he saw that I was only 18 years old, very young and with no connections, he released me under the condition to let him know in case of future activities of that kind. He wanted us to become his agents but it didn’t happen.

I studied in Vratsa until the seventh grade, but seeing how difficult it was for my father to provide for our large family, I realized that I wouldn’t have the opportunity to continue my education. I envied the students who went to Sofia in order to study. When I understood that my parents wouldn’t be able to provide for me to continue with my studies, I quit high school in the seventh grade, and the last high school grade is the eighth one.

I left and enrolled in the local two-year textile school in Vratsa. I attended it for one year and simultaneously I studied as a private student and took the exams for the seventh high school grade also.

While we still lived in Vratsa, I used to go to Sofia as I had practice in the textile factories. Together with that I prepared well and took the second-year exams at the textile school and in 1932, at the age of 18, I went to Sliven and later to Sofia in order to work as a textile worker.

It was a good job, a well-paid job and I took care of the whole family. When they worked, my brothers got a salary of 1000 leva, which was a very low salary at that time. Being a textile worker I got 6000 leva. Yet, I had a large family to provide for, and, to give you but one example, my friends were able to order suits for themselves at the age of 18, while I couldn’t afford it until my 25th birthday.

However, I was pleased with my situation because I had fulfilled my duty and my siblings grew up thanks to me as well. I owe very much to my mother. She supported me in everything. She was a martyr, a saint, because it was she who built our decent family.

In Sofia I had very good masters. Actually, I was an absolute beginner in the job of a textile technician, as I took the degree very quickly and it happened so that I had to catch up with the others in the actual work process. I became an assistant to a very good master, whom we became friends with.

And so, in two years and a half, he and I were already colleagues in the ‘Ruse’ silk factory in the ‘Poduene’ quarter in Sofia. We split the sections and I managed very well. There were great machines in the factory, exported by Italy and Germany.

In 1933 we moved to Sofia. My father was already quite old then and hardly worked. First we settled in a shed. I remember we moved from one place to another six times or so. Most of the lodgings were on different floors, others were on the ground floor, yet we lived happily.

In 1936 my sister Oro got married and we had a wedding. As she was our half-sister, she was different from us. She was darker and not very good in school.

I learned the Jewish traditions from my father. When we were in Gorna Dzhumaya we visited the synagogue very often. That wasn’t the situation with Vratsa, where our visits got rare as there were less Jews there and the Jewish cultural life was not as rich as in the other towns. I have had greater opportunities for development in comparison with my brothers.

When we arrived in Sofia my brother Yosif was seven years old, and I gave him his first lessons in Ivrit. We enrolled him in the second grade of the Jewish school. Still, on the first school day he came back home crying and he wanted to go to a Bulgarian school. But in the end he graduated with a six [the highest mark in the Bulgarian educational system], while those who laughed failed at the exams.

My brother enrolled directly in the second grade, as he had finished the first grade at the Bulgarian school in Vratsa. In Sofia he had to catch up with the other pupils with the Bulgarian subjects and he had to start learning Ivrit from the very beginning, as the rest of the students already knew it. He put a lot of effort into studying and he succeeded. Now he is grateful to me for not moving him to another school, as that would have given his personality a totally different direction.

The two-floor building of the Jewish school in Iuchbunar 6 was on Bregalnitsa Street. Next to it, at the corner of Pozitano and Osogovo Street, the modern building of the Iuchbunar synagogue was built. The room, where the ritual slaughterer, the shochet, used to slaughter the birds brought by the Jews, was situated in a little shop at Osogovo Street.

The slaughtering ritual was very interesting. Before performing the ritual the shochet always read the prayer. It says: ‘Be careful, this cock (or this hen) will be slaughtered and his (or her) life will be passed to you and you will live your whole life in happiness.’

The shochet also slaughters herbivorous animals: sheep, calves, buffaloes. He takes his well-sharpened knife and his assistants, also slaughterers, hold the animal down. He bends over the animal and counts its cervical vertebrae, and he would cut it in such a way so that he would leave one more vertebra from the side of its head. He makes the section and marks the place where the animal should be slaughtered, and then he steps aside and leaves his assistants to finish the work. They have to slaughter it, skin it, hang it on the hooks and package it.

In the meantime the shochet carefully examines its internal organs and decides whether it is a healthy one and if it is good for eating. First he examines the epidermis, than the liver and after that the other internal organs. He assesses the situation with the animal according to the color of its organs as well. If there is even the slightest sign of damage in the tissues and the organs, that means that the animal was sick and thus not kosher and couldn’t be served as food to Jews.

According to the Torah it is absolutely forbidden to use blood for food. Therefore when slaughtering the animal, it should be totally blood-drained, then the meat should be brought home and lavishly salted as salt drains the entire blood. Then the housewife must wash it well and finally prepare it. Using blood is a great sin for the Jews.

We used to live right at the corner of Opalchenska and Positano Street. Our house was destroyed and a new one, a larger one, was erected in its place. We spent our whole life in lodgings, we never owned a house. We never had normal living conditions that others had, such as living-rooms, writing tables. All of us studied simultaneously and shared our common knowledge. The teachers, who came to our place to visit us, used to say how sorry they were that we had to live under such conditions.

I, my little sister Adela and my brothers David and Mordechai were born in Gorna Dzhumaya, while my sister Oro was born in Dupnitsa. My second brother got ill and could not further develop, while the other one, Mordechai, became a good printer in the state printing house. My sister Adela used to make glasses.

My youngest brother Yosif graduated from high school and then he graduated in law, became a lawyer, but meanwhile he was accepted in the police. In fact he retired as a police employee. At first he was an ordinary policeman. Yet, for a very short period of time he advanced in his career taking higher ranks, but I don’t know exactly what kind of a job he had.

The Jewish holidays are connected with history, earth and seasons. All celebrations were organized by the synagogue. On Pesach special bread is prepared only of flour [matzah], because the Jews had spent in the desert 40 years without having salt in order to salt their bread. They used to grind the flour manually and thus they prepared the bread they ate.

I think that Christianity was copied exactly from Judaism. I think that Christians believe in non-realistic things: for example, the Immaculate Conception and the Resurrection.

When we were better off materially, we had special dishes for Pesach. Every year we took them out especially for the celebration and then put them back in the cupboard. They were used in the course of eight days, as long as the festival took place. But when our financial opportunities deteriorated and we had to cut back, we used the ordinary dishes only.

During the War

I got married in 1942, during the Holocaust. When the internments 7 started in the 1940s my wife [Dora Levi, nee Avram Ronko] and I were interned first to Kyustendil, then to Pazardzhik and finally back to Kyustendil again. Before our internment we sold everything we had in Sofia almost for nothing. During the Holocaust we suffered a lot and in the material sense the Jews were deprived of and lost much. The restrictions were great and we had no financial resources.

In Kyustendil we were accommodated at our relatives’ place. Upon our arrival a cousin of my wife came to meet us. But we remained at their place only for a few days. We didn’t get on well, they made our life unbearable and we moved to a Bulgarian lodging. Out landlady’s name was Linka and she helped us a lot. At that time my father was ill.

During our internment to Pazardzhik, in order to provide for ourselves, we did some agricultural work. We dug gardens, planted cherry trees and gathered grapes. The wages were miserable, but we had no other choice.

At that time I realized that my wife had been arrested. So I went to Sofia in order to see what the situation was, we got married on the second day, and I returned immediately. I was punished, detained for 24 hours, but later they set me free. My service was from June to 5th December, until it started snowing.

My wife was arrested before 9th September [1944] 8 as a Jewish activist. There was a Jewish UYW 9 [i.e. only with Jewish members], which struggled against fascists. She was arrested because she collected money for the partisans. Nikola Geshev [a popular policeman and chief of a State Security department in the 1930s and the beginning of the 1940s at the time of the pro-Hitler regime in Bulgaria] interrogated her personally. He applied his own methods, yet it was already too late.

When he saw that she was a young girl, he tried to recruit her in order to get some more information about the others through her. Yet, in 1943-1944 the political situation had already changed, the Soviet troops began their attacks, so did the USA and England. Therefore Geshev’s methods – although he was a very bright cop – were not as effective as before.

In Pazardzhik there was only one textile enterprise, in which clothes were being made out of jute and sacks were being sewed. Some good people recommended me to the owners and thus I started working. My wife also joined me there as a weaver, and so did twelve more Jews, who were interned like us. They were very grateful to me for that.

So the winter of 1943 finally came to its end. During the next spring I received an instruction to go to a forced labor camp 10. All young men were mobilized. We were sent to the village of Gabrovenitsa, 10 kilometers away from Pazardzhik. We were accommodated in sheds and we started digging.

Yet, the chief engineers from the textile factory decided that they needed me. After I had been in the camp for two days one of the factory’s owners, Sotirov was his name, together with the local colonel went to the camp’s superior and asked him to release me. He agreed and thus I got back to work.

The other Jews were both happy about me and envied me. I was released from the forced labor camp because the order said that if there were more than three brothers in a [Jewish] family, one of them had to be liberated [from the forced labor camp].

At that time my wife got ill. I sent her to her parents, who were interned to Kyustendil and in a few months I joined them. I did mostly agricultural work there. We helped local people to cultivate the earth and gather the crops. I am a technician and whenever it was necessary to maintain a machine, I was asked to fix the problem. Our relations with the Bulgarians were very good but the payment was very low.

After the War

And so, 9th September came as well as the end of the war. We returned to Sofia and found out that other people had already settled at our place. We started searching for another lodging. We settled temporarily at the place of some relatives of ours, who had a three-story house in Iuchbunar, on Straldzha and Paris Streets, which has already been destroyed and no longer exists. They gave us two rooms – one for my wife and me, and the other one – for her parents.

I got back to my old job in the silk textile factory upon my return to Sofia. There I worked in shifts until May 1945. Thus my work as a technician ended after 15 years.

During the same year I enrolled in the party school 11, which prepared its organizational cadres. I attended the school for seven months and finally I took the exams. In 1946 I graduated from the school and started working for the [communist] party. At that time the preparation for nationalization was set forth. I was involved in the preparation process and was appointed director of a big enterprise in my capacity.

In the course of three years I was director of a large textile enterprise. Yet, a problem occurred, as a result of which I was fired. In the process of textile production there are strictly specific requirements. Water steam at fixed temperature is being used in order to dye the textile. There was a problem with this steam. So, in order to be economical, the enterprise started using steam at a lower temperature. Thus the coals used for preparation of the steam were economized.

However, I did not agree and protested against it, I even ordered on my own responsibility the steam temperature to be increased for the colors to be fixed better in the textile. Yet, this was considered by the higher circles of the Bulgarian Communist Party 12 to contradict the party’s policy and I was fired as a factory director, as well as expelled from the BCP.

In these times I was impressed by the fact that very often people with no professional experience and qualification were hired for leading positions in the production. They were former partisans and active anti-fascists. For example, in our enterprise a nice young girl was employed, who used to be a partisan for some years, she was awarded several times and was declared a hero. Therefore no one cared whether she was good at her work or not. This is only one example of the tendency that existed back then.

The case with the steam and me being fired illustrated the same idea. Some incompetent superior party official had decided just like that, that the textiles could be dyed with less steam and had ordered the coal deliveries to be lessened. My disapproval was interpreted as disapproval of the party’s policy. I was even subject to a trial for letting the steam out, but finally I was acquitted. In a year I was rehabilitated, my membership in the party was reinstated and I was offered a new job as a consultant.

There were textile enterprises in the light industry and I became instructor there. In the co-operatives there were textile enterprises, where I worked not as a chief but as an employee. Those were a kind of workshops, small factories. I have been a member of the party for nearly 60 years and I am still a member.

Later I was invited to join the Technical Progress Committee as a textile specialist. We were sent as a delegation abroad in order to buy textiles. Thus I have visited Norway, France several times, Germany, I have also been to Russia several times, and then came the time for me to retire. After my retirement I collaborated with many enterprises.

As far as the attitude of Bulgarians to Jews is concerned, I can say nothing but the best. Because when there was anti-Semitism worldwide, when there were murders everywhere, there weren’t such things in Bulgaria. Bulgarians and Jews have been living for more than 400 years in an atmosphere of mutual understanding.

There were two great events in the 20th century. The first one is that 100 million people were killed, this was the most war-loving century. And at the same time there was a small nation, which saved 50,000 Jews. It’s a small thing, yet it’s a great thing.

You feel free as long as you have good friends. Even though they were fewer, there were Bulgarians, with whom we got on very well. Every year in the course of ten years we went on excursions – from 1981 to 1990, even during the new regime [the period after 1989].

Within these 45 years after 1944 we became less ‘Jewish’ because of the Party’s attitude. Some very refined restrictions were introduced and the Jewish schools were closed. I was raised as a Jew up to my 25th year of age. The first language I spoke was Ladino and at the age of five I was already speaking Ivrit. Generally we became estranged with the holidays. I kept visiting the synagogue because that comes from my kin and I belong to my kin. But not everyone was like me.

My daughter Ema was born in 1952. She graduated from high school in Sofia, she got married early and she devoted herself to looking after her children. She was  married twice and has three children. She has two girls from her first marriage, Teodora and Mariola.

The older one, Teodora, went to Switzerland in the 1990s and currently lives there. She is dealing with interior design. The other one got married in Sofia and has a very successful marriage. She is expecting a baby now.

My grandson’s name is Borislav, he is finishing high school and playing basketball in the Jewish organization’s team in Sofia. My daughter is currently dealing with a real estate agency.

I received letters during the wars in Israel. We were six children – three of us in Sofia, and the other three – there, in Israel, and my mother suffered a lot. She was worried for all of us. I was able to see my relatives in Israel only after we had been separated for 30 years. They already got children, who had married in their turn, they already had grandchildren.

That was the only time I went to Israel. I visited my sister [Adela], who grew up under my protection, as I supported the whole family and was like a parent to her. I also visited my nephews. I stayed there for two months and a half. My sister passed away in October 1981. I left for a week and stayed there until 15th January 1982.

I didn’t have any problems regarding my departure. I think that at that time no one who wanted to visit Israel had actually had any problems with obtaining a permit. In the beginning [after 9th September 1944] we were restricted, but later [in the 1980s] the authorities realized it wasn’t necessary.

When I went there something interesting happened. When they took my passport they doubted my name. All passengers were aboard the plane and my passport was the only reason for delaying the flight. They let me get on board, the plane took off, made a lap and landed again. We all wondered what was going on and my passport was required again. It occurred that my name coincided with the name of some terrorist.

We arrived in Israel. There, after the passport control, all passengers were allowed in except for me. I was detained for two hours and after the authorities realized that I wasn’t a terrorist, they released me. On my way back I was detained again and the whole thing repeated.

During the events in Hungary in 1956 13 and in Czechoslovakia in 1968 [Prague Spring] 14 we didn’t have much information and we didn’t know what exactly was going on. Those were rude mistakes and a lot of good comrades were killed in this common mess, yet gradually they resumed the balance and now they live well.

I was convinced that it was not right to do the things in this way [through military power]. That was Stalin’s way copied by everyone, which failed in the end. Tito 15 didn’t let it happen in Serbia [i.e. Yugoslavia]. The Chinese didn’t let it happen, and neither did the Vietnamese. They took their own way. All of us referred to it [the communist idea] as per absolute truth. There is no absolute truth. We ignored the most important fact – the economy, and that we should do everything in accordance with it, as it feeds the state. The ones who produce, should prosper.

During my retirement I became guest lecturer in historical grammar at the Faculty of classical and new philologies at Sofia University 16 in the specialty ‘Spanish Philology.’ Following my idea, the Professor of Spanish philology, Kanchev, initiated a course for studying the different Jewish writings. I examined the basic kinds of ancient scripts, which Jews used to write in – such as Meruba, Rashi 17, and first of all, Solitreo.

Solitreo resembles the Turkish alphabet and it was practically used in Bulgaria till the 1920s. My father used to correspond with his friends in Dupnitsa through this alphabet. It is interesting that Solitreo was also spread among some Bulgarians, who needed to have some knowledge in it in order to trade with Jews. There are around 600 documents preserved in the National Library in Sofia in Solitreo.

During the course we exercised converting texts in Latin letters into Solitreo. I have an article entitled ‘Ladino in Three Alphabets – Latin, Rashi and Solitreo.’ The most difficult thing in reading Solitreo comes from the various writing out of the vocals in the different countries.

Lately I’ve devoted most of my time to taking care of my wife, who is confined to bed. Every day I visit the Jewish center and the synagogue, where my brother Yosif Levi works. Every Saturday on Sabbath and during holidays we gather with my compatriots in the synagogue.

I also spend a lot of time on my research of the old Jewish neighborhood in Sofia. I map the places in Sofia, where Jews used to live or live nowadays including information on their names and kinship ties as well.

Vera Erak
Zemun, Serbia
Interviewer: Klara Azulaj

My family background

Growing up

During the war

After the war

My family background

My name is Vera Erak and I was born in 1925 in Zemun. My father, Ilija Erak, was born in 1890 in Zemun; and my mother, Edith Erak (nee Bondy), was born in 1903 in Zemun.

We lived in Zemun in a beautiful one story house, which, unfortunately, did not have a garden, only a small courtyard. It was a three-room house and my governess and our maid lived with us. My parents had a mixed goods store where they both worked, so that the governess took care of me and we had a maid that cooked and cleaned the house. I remember that we had two big dogs, Dobermans, who were my best friends. When the governess had work to do in the house, she let me stay in the courtyard with them because they took care of me and followed my every move. We did not keep kosher, but we celebrated all Jewish holidays. Mother regularly went to synagogue, and when I grew up a bit she regularly took me with her. My father, even though he was not a Jew, respected my mother’s desire to observe the Jewish regulations, and to raise me in that spirit.

My maternal grandfather and grandmother were Ashkenazic Jews. Grandfather Markus Bondy and his parents came from Hungary. He was born in 1866 to a very prosperous family. When they moved to Zemun, they bought a one story house and a big store. Very quickly he became widely known as a capable and honest merchant. He had a fancy-goods store and in it he stocked quality goods which came from Paris, Vienna and Budapest. Grandfather Markus attended the Commercial Academy and he spoke German, Hungarian and French perfectly. I do not have any pictures of him, but my mother described him as a slim dark man with a thick black moustache. As a respected citizen, he was elected to be a deputy in the Magistrate of Zemun in 1912. Documents concerning this are on display at the Native Lands Museum of Zemun and Surroundings. At the outset of World War One, my grandfather enlisted in the Serbian army, voluntarily, because he was a great patriot. Unfortunately he was captured by the Austro-Hungarians and taken to a prison in Prokuplje, where he died of typhus in 1916.

My mother’s mother, Minna Bondy (nee Weiss) was born in 1880 in Vrpolje, Croatia. She was a blonde and was considered one of the most beautiful girls in Zemun. When she married my grandfather Markus, she helped run his store. Since the store was very big, there were always two assistants and two trainees. While she was in the store, their four children were watched by the governess, Olga, who at the same time took care of the entire house with the help of one maid. In the family they celebrated all the holidays. Grandmother and Grandfather also went to synagogue.

Grandmother Minna was considered a big benefactress. Every Pesach she dressed poor children from head to toe, regardless of whether they were Jews or not. She had a bad gallbladder and had it operated on at the Zivkovic sanatorium in Belgrade. Soon after that she developed a blood sugar problem and died of complications from diabetes in 1920. She was buried in the Jewish cemetery. The cemetery caretaker was a German named Geringer, who described my grandmother’s funeral. He said that a large number of the citizens of Zemun came to pay their respects. Incidentally, it is because of Geringer that the Zemun cemetery was protected from destruction. In the old part of it are the remains of the grandmother and grandfather of Theodore Herzl.  The remains of thousands of Serbs, Jews and Gypsies killed at Sajmiste (editor’s note: a German run concentration camp just outside Belgrade) are also buried there.

The eldest of my grandparents’ four children was Jakob, nicknamed Zaki. My uncle Jakob was born in 1901 in Zemun. He attended a Jewish elementary school and a gymnasium in Zemun and he graduated from the Economics Faculty in Belgrade. He worked as the commercial director of the Ta-Ta commercial company in Belgrade. He lived as a tenant. At the outbreak of World War Two, a proclamation arrived which stated that everyone had to register in their place of residence before 1918. Jakob registered in Zemun, and at the same moment they took him into forced labor. He worked on cleaning up the debris from the bombing of Zemun (from the German air raids of April 1941). In mid-1941 he was taken to the Jasenovac concentration camp, from where he did not return.

After Jakob, Robert Bondy was born in 1902 in Zemun. He went to a Jewish elementary school and then to a commercial secondary school. He was employed by the bookstore owner and publisher Geca Kohn as a traveling salesman. At the beginning of the war in 1941 he was taken to forced labor in Zemun and from there sent to Jasenovac. From there all information about him is lost. (Editor’s note: according to the memoirs of German-born Kafka and Herzl biographer Ernst Pawel, who spent the late 1930s in Belgrade, it was Kohn who brought Europe’s best literature to Serbia and ran a penny a day lending service.  Kohn and his family were murdered in Sajmiste).

My grandmother Minna and grandfather Markus’s youngest child was my aunt Greta Bondy. She was born in 1905 in Zemun. She attended a Jewish elementary school and continued her studies in a commercial school in Belgrade. She spoke German, French and English. Before the war she worked as a secretary in a private firm. From 1938 to 1941 she lived in a rented studio apartment in Belgrade. She did not marry. I liked to visit her during my vacations. Her apartment was nicely furnished. She had central heating and hot water in the apartment, which were not common in those days. When the war started, she and her friend Edith Weiss (who was not a blood relative despite the last name), went to Vrpolje to stay with her uncle Weiss. He was my grandmother Minna’s brother, but I cannot remember his name. He was a lawyer and the owner of a mill called Roza Paromlin.

We received information that at the end of 1941, Greta was taken to the Djakovo concentration camp (editor’s note: run by the Croatian fascist Ustasha) from where she did not return.

My mother, Edith, was the third child, born in 1903. She went to a Jewish elementary school, and after that she attended a school for girls. She played handball. She went to a boarding school in Vienna in 1915, where she studied music and painting for a year. In Vienna she learned of the death of her father Markus, and she came back to Zemun in 1916. After the death of her mother, Minna, she went with her sister, Greta, to her uncle Weiss in Vrpolje. The two of them helped him in his law offices and his mill. She stayed in Vrpolje until 1925, when Ilija Erak came to her uncle’s to ask for her hand in marriage.

My father Ilija Erak was born in Zemun in 1890. He attended primary school and commercial school in Zemun. When the war began, he was a member of a youth organization for resistance against the Austro-Hungarian government and for the liberation of Zemun. In 1915 when that organization was discovered, the Austro-Hungarian government published a list of names of its members who should be captured. Among the names was my father’s. To avoid capture, he headed for Serbia, together with his parents, who did not want to separate from their only son. My father enlisted in the Serbian Army in the Moravian division. At the same time a refugee convoy for civilians was formed, which my father’s parents joined. When the Serbian Army met their demise, the people from the refugee convoy and the army pulled back through Albania together. When they passed through the Albanian mountains and came to Skadar, my father’s mother, my grandmother Zorka, died from exhaustion and hunger. In 1915 she was buried in the Skadar military cemetery. The day after the death of his wife, my grandfather Stojan woke up entirely gray-haired. The military and the people from the refugee convoy continued towards the Adriatic Sea, and embarked on boats which sailed towards France. When they arrived in Marseilles, my grandfather Stojan, unable to get over the death of his wife, took ill from grief and died. He was buried in 1915 in the military cemetery in Marseilles.

While they were passing through Albania, the detonation of a bomb ruptured my father’s eardrum, so that he became deaf. Because of this he was unable to continue with the military, so he stayed in Grenoble and continued his education. He attended the Commercial Academy, and to fix his material situation, he worked at the same time in a sawmill. While he was working there, a saw cut off part of his right thumb. He received cash compensation, and when he finished the Commercial Academy in 1919, he used that money to return to Zemun. He settled into his father Stojan’s house, and he bought a mixed-goods store right across the street from the building where my mother, Edith, lived. Very quickly they met each other. They date their love back to those early days. When he found a place to live, he sought after Edith in Vrpolje to ask for her hand in marriage.

In January 1925 they married. The only person who was against the marriage was my uncle Jakob. He could not accept the fact that his sister was married to a non-Jew. He never again went to visit his sister, and he never met me.

Because of my father Ilija’s bad health, we moved to Dubrovnik in 1928. My father sold his house and store, and with the money he received he bought an apartment and two stores, one in Dubrovnik and the other on the island of Lopus. The license for both of the stores was issued in my mother's name. My parents sold souvenirs in their stores, and all sorts of things that were useful to the many tourists. They sold handmade fabric rugs, Konavljanski embroidery, Turkish coffeepots, bathing suits, photo equipment, etc. During the summer, the store on Lopud worked at full capacity. My mother Edith ran it. During the winter the store was closed, because there were few tourists. The Dubrovnik shop was run in the summer by my father Ilija and in the winter by my mother. After a short period my father took up photography, and he opened a small photo laboratory.

Using the treatment his doctor prescribed for his kidney stones, my father had a full recovery. Every morning he had to drink two small glasses of sea water and one small glass of olive oil. He never had any other problem with his kidneys.

Growing up

I began elementary school in 1932. The school was called Pucka School. In Dubrovnik there was no Jewish school. After elementary school I enrolled in the first grade of the gymnasium.

My parents regularly went to synagogue. We observed all the holidays. I remember that the Jewish community and the synagogue were well attended. The rabbi, who was also the ritual slaughterer, came from Trebinja. The president of the Jewish community was a prominent merchant called Tolentino (editor’s note: the last native Sephardi Jewish family in Dubrovnik, survived into the 1930s.  Their house was actually attached to the synagogue, and they entered by a secret door.  Their father was the city’s last rabbi, appointed in the early part of the century.  His three children, one daughter and two sons, never married, and ran the synagogue service each Friday night and Saturday morning until they died).

Already in 1938, intolerance towards Serbs and Jews had begun in Croatia. On one occasion the windows on my father’s store were broken. My family was no longer able to survive in Dubrovnik and we accepted an invitation from my mother’s distant cousin Josef Kronstein who lived in Novi Sad and owned three movie theatres named “Apolo,” “Odeon,” and “Rojal.” We moved to Novi Sad in 1939 and my father accepted an offer to run the Rojal movie theater. I enrolled in the second grade of the gymnasium. I had a lot of Jewish friends. Lia Stark, Egon Stark, and Vera Schlosberger were my best friends. Vera Schlosberger survived the war and became a famous pianist in Yugoslavia. Egon Stark was president of the Jewish community of Novi Sad until not long ago. He held that position continuously for almost 10 years.

During the war

We lived quite normally until the outbreak of World War One. The Hungarians issued a declaration that all residents of Novi Sad who had moved there after 1918 had to immediately return to their birthplace. On April 30, 1941, my father, with two suitcases, my mother and I went on a ferryboat to Petrovaradin and there we embarked in a wagon. On May 1, we arrived in Zemun. My father’s cousin, Pavle Todorovic, who had a pastry shop on Main Street, took us in. After some time we became subtenants.

Every day my mother and I had to go to register at the Kulturbund. The Kulturbund was the German Cultural Federation and was backed by the SS. They were very strict. We had to go regardless of the weather conditions, and we waited if necessary through the hardest of rain storms so that we could sign in. I remember that Rudikka Teibl and Albrecht controlled us. Rudikka Teibl , whose father was the owner of a big hotel in Zemun, and Albrecht, whose father had a well-known furniture store, were members of the Kulturbund. They were both only about 20 years old, but they were famous for their brutality. They greatly mistreated the Jews of Zemun, who had to come to register at the Kulturbund everyday. Rudikka and Albrecht wore red suits and armbands with swastikas. We wore a yellow arm band with a star of David on our arm. We stayed in Zemun until August 1941, until the moment that we heard that the border with Croatia would be closed. We knew that they intended to collect all the Jews, and that is why we moved to Belgrade. In Belgrade we registered in the Commissariat for Refugees. To hide my mother’s Jewish name Edith, my father registered her under the name Zorka Erak. After two days we went by convoy to Pozarevac. The Commissariat for Refugees lodged in the Hotel Balkan, and then with Mrs. Agica Jankovic. We lived with Mrs. Jankovic free for some months and she treated us very correctly. She was not a Jew, but she treated us as if we were her family. Not wanting to be too much of a burden on her, we rented a small room.

In Pozarevac, I continued the fifth grade of gymnasium. Since I spoke German fluently, I signed up at the Red Cross so that I could work on correspondence between the citizens of Pozarevac and the surroundings, including their relatives who were prisoners in different German camps. At the time I was a member of the SKOJ (Federation of Communist Youth). Working at the Red Cross provided me with a cover, because I received a document which stated that as a Red Cross activist I could freely walk around the city from 8 to l2 and from 14 to 18. This gave me the opportunity to do work for SKOJ. However, the organization was uncovered and I and some other members were locked up in a Chetnik prison. The head of the Pozerevac district was the famous Chetnik, Kalabic. (Chetniks formed a non-regular army in Serbia under the control of Draza Mihajlovic, a general of the Royal Yugoslav Army. At the beginning of the war they were important as fighters for the liberation of Serbia from occupiers, but they quickly joined the Germans. Most frequently they went around Serbia in groups of three, and slaughtered followers of the partisans and innocent residents. General Draza Mihajlovic was captured, but he committed suicide before being sentenced.) There they seriously mistreated me. I constantly screamed that I was innocent, that I did not know anything, that I only went to school and that I did not know anyone. Because of lack of evidence they released me.

I finished the 6th grade of gymnasium. In September 1943, I joined the Partisans in the Second Southern Moravian Unit, which on February 4, 1944 became the famous 7th Serbian Fighting Brigade. (The Seventh Serbian Fighting Brigade was famous because its fighters participated in battles from Djerdap to Belgrade. The brigade was among the first to reach Belgrade and its fighters devotedly fought for liberation.) On the 15th of October, 1945, my brigade liberated Pozerevac. We remained there five days, then merged with the 23rd division and went to liberate Belgrade. After almost four years, on October 23 1945 at 5:00 PM I set foot in my liberated Zemun.

After the war

I did not have any contact with my parents until the liberation of Pozarevac. All the war, my mother hid herself, almost never leaving the house. The neighboring villagers helped her and my father, sometime giving them a kilogram of flour or a little meat. After the liberation of Zemun, I rented a small truck and went to get my parents. We took the few things we had and moved to Zemun to the small apartment we were given. After demobilization I finished my schooling.

After graduation in 1946, I became employed in the military firm Planum. There I met my future husband, Pavle Ruman, and we got married in August 1946. I enrolled in the journalism/diplomacy school. I kept my own last name so that I would not have to change all my documents from Erak to Ruman. At that time you could do this at the time of marriage. We lived in the house of my paternal uncle, Milorad Jovanovic’s, who moved to Novi Sad.

Our son Branislav was born in 1947. He used his father’s name, Ruman, until he became an adult, and afterwards to fulfill my father’s wish he took the last name Erak, because my father did not have a son to inherit his name. In 1951 we had a daughter, Vesna. We had a good marriage, which ended in the tragic death of my husband in March 1952. In the firm where he worked he was hit by a broken high voltage cable and was killed instantly.

After the firm Planum I began working at the Military Post 44/45 as a personal referent. I did not manage to finish the journalism/diplomacy school. I transferred to work in the municipal government of Zemun and in the meantime I had three heart attacks and four bypasses. I retired in 1981 with 39 full years of work experience. They also recognized my three years and nine months of fighting experience.

Even though I was a single parent, with the help of my parents, I managed to educate the children. Branislav attended a two-year electrical college and Vesna a two-year medical college.

My father Ilija worked as the head of Izgradnja’s Warehouse, and in 1967 he died of a heart attack. My mother worked for a short time as a clerk and then dedicated herself to the home. She died in 1983.

After the war I helped to rebuild the Zemun Jewish community. Its first president was Albert Weiss. Working together, we gathered information concerning the Jews from Zemun who did not return from Jasenovac, and that list was given to the curator of Jasenovac. After that, Albert Weiss went to Nuremberg as the representative for Yugoslavia on the prosecuting committee.

Aleksandar Frank became president of the Jewish community, and he maintained this position for a long time. The Jewish community entirely revived itself and my children went with the other Jewish youth every summer to Hvar, Korcula, etc. In 1990 I organized the women’s section in the Jewish community, and I am still the president of that section. In 1995 I helped to establish the youth section.

Parallel to my work in the Jewish community of Zemun, I also work actively at the Red Cross. I am the recipient of many awards for my humanitarian work.

Leon Kalaora
Sofia
Bulgaria
Interviewer: Patricia Nikolova
Date of interview: September 2004

Leon Kalaora is a pleasant and a dedicated person to talk with. The clarity with which he remembers small details from the past complements his skill to describe unique situations, images and faces. His precise language and insight into the events from the past show the delicate nature of Leon Avramov Kalaora. That is why the wealth of his humble home in the very center of Sofia – very close to the Bulgarian Parliament – is in the spiritual comfort of the books and the warmth of its inhabitants.

My family background

Growing up

During the War

After the War

Glossary

My family background

My ancestors came from Spain 1. They came from a village with the melodious name of Kalaora, which still exists today, but I do not know if its name is still the same. [Editor’s note: Calahorra is in La Rioja administrative division and Calahorra de Boedo is in Castilla y Leon.] In order to reach Bulgaria my ancestors firstly passed along the north coast of the Mediterranean Sea, then through Greece and Turkey. [Editor’s note: Greece, Turkey and Bulgaria were all parts of the Ottoman Empire during the Sephardi migration.]

They settled here, in Bulgaria, because they loved the nature and the people. They also liked one typical trait of Bulgarians – the tolerance towards every one regardless of their religion, language or ethnicity. Unfortunately, I cannot say what my ancestors did for a living, neither what clothes they wore, nor what habits they had.

What I know is mostly about the parents of my parents. But I never met my father’s parents and thus didn’t know them. The only thing I know about them is that they lived in Turkey, but without the father in the family, so my father had to work from an early age to support his mother, who could not earn any money.

My father, Avram Avramov Kalaora, came to Bulgaria with his mother Sara Avram Kalaora when he was 16-17 years old [1900/1901]. He was born in 1884 in Istanbul. I do not know why they moved to Bulgaria. He always lived in great misery. From an early age he had to be the head of the family. In northeast Bulgaria, Varna, he worked for merchants and craftsmen, but he earned only enough money to buy some bread.

I remember that my father was always very kind to people and liked to joke. He spoke Ladino 2 at home, but he also knew Turkish and Greek, and Bulgarian, of course. Besides, the Jewish religion was very dear to him – he observed the Jewish holidays and kashrut. He never ate pork. He observed the kashrut as best he could, because it was not always possible to find kosher food in northeast Bulgaria. He had a tallit and a kippah. He went regularly to the synagogue.

It is interesting that my father never said anything about doing any military service. So, I think that he never served in the army, neither in Bulgaria, nor in Turkey.

My mother, Donna Avramova Kalaora, nee Farhi, was born in 1888 in Shumen. When she was a child, my mother worked a lot as a maid in Jewish homes in order to earn some money. Gradually her brothers Avram and Isak overcame the financial crisis and they started living a little better. Avram was an anatomist pathologist and Isak was a driver.

My mother was very sociable and kind. She was the perfect example of how people should treat each other. What was most special about her, was her readiness to help people. For example, she visited sick people and did their laundry – and there were no washing machines at that time –, cooked them food, and if she could afford it, she brought them some food from home. I saw all that with my own eyes.

My father and mother met through friends when they had both lost their first wife and husband. My father’s first wife – unfortunately I do not know her name – died of some illness. And my mother’s first husband, Moshe Davidov, died in World War I 3.

The mother of the beautician Visa – the woman who told me how my parents met – now she lives in Israel and I know nothing else about her – once told her husband, ‘This woman is alone and has a son. She is a healthy, nice and honest woman and she is also hard working. Let’s arrange a meeting between her and bai [uncle] Avram – that’s how they called my father then!’

And so they invited them to their home together with other guests. They introduced my mother to my father and left them alone to talk in private. She could not tell me what they had talked about. But in the end, they gradually became friends and decided to marry. That happened most probably in 1917 or 1918, because I was born in 1919.

The most interesting family story which my parents have told me involves my father. I was still a child when he told me and my brothers about some murders which happened years ago. Today we link this story to the Armenians. I do not remember the concrete date, but it must have been before 1921. [The Armenian Genocide took place in 1915, during World War I.] When my father was a seven-year-old child in Turkey, he collected fezzes from murdered Armenians, which he sold to buy bread for his mother, who was alone and poor.

My father and my mother spoke Ladino to each other and to us, too. So, they did not speak much Bulgarian at home and we studied it at school. By the way, my parents spoke a kind of Bulgarian, which immediately showed that they were not native Bulgarians. They dressed very modestly.

My father worked all the time and cared a lot for the family. For example, one summer he worked in a grocery store and got up at 2am to go to the market in Varna and buy vegetables for the store. So, he did not sleep more than four to five hours a day. But he did not own the store. My father also liked to drink, but no more than 50 grams of rakia 4 and always at home – never in a tavern.

My parents got along very well with their neighbors. Their friends were Jews and the neighbors – both Bulgarians and Jews. Some of my father’s friends were Greeks and Turks. But I cannot remember any concrete names or people. I remember only that the relations between them were excellent. For example, we lived in a house with a yard, but neither the door of the yard or that of the house were ever locked. Such were the relations between the people – pure, peaceful and nice.

Growing up

I was born in 1919 in the Bulgarian seaside town of Varna. I have five brothers and one sister. They are Yosif Avramov Kalaora [1907-1953], Jacques Avramov Kalaora [1910-1974], David Avramov Kalaora [1911-2003], Izak Avramov Kalaora [1915-1966], Perets Avramov Kalaora [ 1915-1997], Sara Avramova Lazarova, nee Kalaora [1992-2001].

My family was very united. I remember that my brothers often read the Varna dailies at home, as well as the ‘Echo’ newspaper, which was progressive, that is, presenting left, communist ideas. I remember that when I was young, in order to make me go and buy them the newspaper one of my brothers would tell me, ‘I will spit right here on the pavement, let’s see if you can come back before it gets dry. Come on!’ And so I ran. I remember that my brother Perets read the works of Maxim Gorky 5, ‘Mother’ and others. Jacques and David read mostly ‘leftist’ books.

David worked very much. He gave all his salary to our mother. My other brothers would always find some work to do on Sundays. For example, people hired them to build the electrical installation in their houses. I also helped them when they laid the pipes in the walls.

David and I had the same mother, but different fathers. When the Law for the Protection of the Nation 6 was passed David changed his name. He adopted his father’s name, who was killed in World War I. His name was David Moshe Davidov. Also, during the time of the Law of Protection of the Nation my brother did not wear a yellow star 7 like all Jews in Bulgaria, but one yellow button. It showed that he was a war orphan, but did not entail any other rights.

I remember David Kalaora as a caring husband and brother.

The fate of my brother Perets Kalaora during World War II was very interesting. At first he studied industrial chemistry in Brno [Czechoslovakia]. But after the German invasion [cf. Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia] 8, he had to save himself. He went to study industrial chemistry in Paris. But the Germans showed up there, too. He went to finish his education in Bordeaux; Marshal Petain [1856-1951] governed this part of France, who was known to be a servant of Hitler’s. The French government did not shoot down Perets only because he was too young.

At the same time in Bulgaria King Boris III 9 issued a special decree and ordered his foreign minister to tell the German government that all Jewish Bulgarian citizens in the territories occupied by Germany and in the allied countries must be treated in the same way as the local Jews. That is, they could be arrested, harassed and, all in all, included in that group of six million killed Jews. At that time my brother was in Bordeaux.

One day, as usual, he studied for some exam with a fellow student in his rented apartment. It was a late, rainy and cold autumn day. The evening was drawing near. Perets went outside to see his friend off. They started talking at the front door when two Gestapo officials approached them and asked, ‘Sirs, do you know if Mr. Pierre Kalaora lives here? They meant Perets. And my brother obligingly informed them, ‘Yes, he lives here. Go to the third floor...’ and he showed them his door.

The moment the men entered the building, he and his friend ran away. He ran into one direction, and his friend in the opposite one. Naturally, my brother never passed through that street or that neighborhood again. I was told this story by fellow students of my brother, but I do not remember their names. He did not like to talk about it, even in front of his relatives.

A few months after that incident, he went to the city hall in Bordeaux to change some documents. The clerk there told him to come back after two or three hours and everything would be ready. But Perets started wondering whether the clerk wanted him to come back later so that he would have time to call the Gestapo, or he was just paranoid. So he stopped 100 meters from the building and looked around for any Gestapo officials or suspicious civilian people.

Then he went to the clerk, who, to his great surprise, gave him not one but two sets of documents. One of the sets contained the real documents, and the other – fake ones. And the clerk said, ‘Sir, I feel for you and I want to help you...’ It turned out he was a man from the Resistance. After 9th September 1944 10 Perets returned to Bulgaria for a short period to try to find and thank this man, but he could not find him.

All my brothers had interesting lives. Yosif moved to Argentina in 1930. He died in Buenos Aires in 1953. David emigrated to France in 1929 and lived in Paris. Perets also lived in France and died there in 1997. Jacques and Izak emigrated to Israel in 1948. My parents also moved there after 1953.

So, only my sister and I remained in Bulgaria. She died in Sofia in 2001. She worked in the trade business. She had two children: a son and a daughter. Her son is Yosif Eliyau Lazarov. Before 10th November 1989 11 he headed a department in a clothes manufacturing company. He died in 2002. Her daughter is Dolya Eliyau Doncheva, nee Lazarova.

Our home was in the old Varna district Kadar baba. It was not a Jewish neighborhood and its name is Turkish. I don’t know what it means exactly. We lived in a small old house with a little garden. Its floor was made of soil and covered with straw mattresses.

Everything was primitive, there was no running water, no electricity. We only had a big room and a kitchen, which was also very big. The toilet was made of ordinary boards and there was a hole in the middle of them. It was in the yard. I remember that we also had a small cellar with a wooden door, which opened inwards.

Despite all this misery, I keep very nice memories from my childhood. But I don’t remember my parents taking us to a resort or even to the sea; and Varna is a seaside town, after all.

Varna was the seaside center of Bulgaria. There were around 70,000 citizens in the town, of whom 2,500 were Jews. The Jews were mainly employed in trade or worked in private companies. For example, I remember very well the place where I lived at some point – a two-storey house right next to the synagogue, on 2 Prezviter Kozma Street. Two brothers, who worked as tinsmiths, let out the two floors. There were also rich Jews in the town, but not many. Most of them were craftsmen, workers or a few of them were merchants.

The typical market day in Varna was no different from the market days in the other Bulgarian towns. Villagers with donkey, horse or ox carts came carrying products. They were very poor, because the land they owned was parceled out in pieces of 10 decares, 20 decares, 30 decares. Villagers with larger parcels of land were rare. And if they had more land, they had to hire workers.

My friends Marin Bankiev – he became an ambassador to Cyprus – and Lasko Marinov and I went to work for the landowners so that we earned some money for the community home of the village. There I could see the complete misery of the villagers in the Varna region – people who were dressed and ate poorly. My friends and I worked for people who had 27 decares of land, but had a family of eight people and lived poorly.

Varna was a beautiful town, visited by many merchant and passenger ships, although its infrastructure was not as good as it is now. The most famous neighborhood was Kadar baba. A very well organized Jewish community lived there, though it wasn’t a specifically Jewish neighborhood. The district had a Turkish name like most of the districts in Varna at that time. Although it was a Bulgarian city, there were many Turkish people living in it and in fact almost all people in the city spoke Turkish.

We had various organizations: Maccabi 12, Hashomer Hatzair 13, Bikur Cholim 14, WIZO [Women’s International Zionist Organization] 15. Some of the organizations were political: left Zionists – Poalei Zion 16 and general [right] Zionists – Betar 17. There were differences between them. For example, the members of Betar were the richer Jews. Poalei Zion was considered more leftist, that is more communist and its members were people of the lower social strata.

I was a member of Maccabi first, then of Hashomer Hatzair, in which I was even in the leadership. In Maccabi we often did gymnastics. I was responsible for the technical matters related to the organization of the events, etc.

There was a nice synagogue in Varna. Our landlord was haribi [rabbi] Nissim; I cannot remember his family name. He had two sons. They both became chazzanim. One of them, his younger son, buried my mother while I was in Israel in 1965. Unfortunately we did not have the chance to meet again after that. I was devastated after my mother’s death and was not myself for ten days.

I remember that as a child my favorite holidays were Fruitas 18 and Pesach. I loved Fruitas, because of the nice fruit that we ate then. When I was a child, my father taught me and my brothers how to take part in the prayers when we went to the synagogue. He taught us what answer should be said and when; this is a tradition from antiquity and resembling very much classical Greek dramas, in which the choir is personified as a single entity and has its unique role. But our father did not make us always answer the chazzan.

I remember that I always stayed late for slichot. I remember that we all went to the synagogue with our fishing rods so that we would go fishing to the sea early the next morning. This had nothing to do with the religious holiday, we just used the occasion to do something we liked.

As a child I studied in the local Jewish school, which included a kindergarten, and the first four classes. The teachers there were very educated and excellent pedagogues. My favorite teacher was Formoza, but I do not remember her family name. She taught students from the first to the fourth class.

We had an interesting teacher, haribi Aron Dekalo, who taught us Ivrit. He was much respected and tried to teach us the literary Ivrit. When I was in Israel in 1965, I was asked in Ivrit, ‘Will you leave for Bulgaria this week?’ and I answered, ‘Eineni yodeah,’ while they say ‘Lo yodeah.’ And they would ask me right away, ‘How come you speak such a literary Ivrit?’ And I would say, ‘Haribi Aron taught me in this way.’ He was a very conscientious man.

Unfortunately, I felt anti-Semitic attitudes as early as high school. I studied in the 1st Men’s high school, where all boys from Varna went. But at the beginning of the 1940s the school was full of Branniks 19 and Ratniks 20. I had a classmate, his surname was Avdjiev, but I do not remember his first name. He always showed off his expensive and fashionable clothes – for example, broad trousers, and he boasted about his knowledge of Spanish. He got on my nerves.

In our class we were also separated into ‘we’ and ‘you.’ ‘Our’ group, that is, the group of students with communist beliefs included the majority of the students in the class, but I do not remember their names. I, for example, was the deputy chairman of the temperance society in the high school, and its members were mostly communists. Then I had to be appointed chairman, because the former one graduated from high school.

The Branniks and Ratniks came with sticks and leather belts, showing them off. Our teacher, also a communist, cancelled the meeting. We held it another time. They could have beaten us, although the director of the high school, Mister Arahchiev, was in constant contact with the police.

In contrast to the present Bulgarian high school, besides our classes at school our teachers insisted very much on extra-curriculum activities in the so-called ‘societies.’ The more popular societies were the temperance one, the history one, the geography one etc. We also had a literary society. I was a member of the history society and the temperance one. Every student was a member of such a society. In these societies we wrote papers of three to five pages on some issues and we had to make an effort to get higher marks at school.

We were teenagers at that time, so we were old enough to hold a political view. Those of us sharing the communist idea, had high marks and served as an example for the others. We even persuaded some of our classmates who previously held the opposite political view, to join us.

I will never forget a classmate of ours Petko Petkov, who was a member of Otets Paisii 21. One day in our last year at high school he suddenly disappeared. We looked for him along the sea beach, in case he had drowned, but we did not find any trace of him. After 9th September 1944 we found out that he had become a partisan and he survived.

The concrete story related to anti-Semitism in high school that I remember took place on the holiday of Slavic script and culture – 24th May 1936 22. At that time Hitler was already in power. The cruelties against the Jews in Europe had already started. The school building was decorated in green, with green twigs along the windows outside and inside. It was a real holiday, not like nowadays.

All the students and teachers gathered in the school yard. There were loudspeakers and the teacher of literature was standing in front of a microphone. I hated him because of the following reason. Once I had to be absent from school for ten months. I was down with some severe illness. There were not such good medicines at that time, which could cure you in five days.

When I came back to school, the teacher in literature decided to test me. He asked me to analyze a poem by Yavorov 23. I said, ‘Mr. Karagyozov, this is my first day at school, I haven’t been to school for ten months.’ ‘I'm giving you a poor mark,’ said he. That is why I hated him.

So, on this day, 24th May 1936 he had a report to read. He had a beard, he looked dignified. And he said, ‘In our country and in the countries of the Slavic people, we, the Slavs, will never become compost for the Aryan! What the West is speaking and dreaming about now!’ He did not mention Germany, but everybody knew that only Hitler spoke and thought like that.

Everybody cheered. Only the students from ‘Otets Paisii’ did not. And he continued, ‘No, we should not cheer, but act. Every one of us, Slavs, must act! We should stand up to prove that we, the Slavs, are people!’ And from this moment on he became my idol.

I came to Sofia for the first time on 1st August 1940. And naturally, I started to work straight away for my brothers Jacques and Izi [Izak], who had already settled in Sofia and had a shop for electric materials near Serdika Street. My wage was enough for me.

When my brothers left for Israel, I worked as a press operator on Karl Shvedski Street. At that time there were some very fashionable electric rings – the most modern and easy to use kind of electric stove at that time. I produced their metal part under a license. So, I worked there until 1941 when, as a Bulgarian Jew, I was forced to work in labor camps 24.

In fact, I had a double job, because I did not come from Varna to Sofia by accident. I was recommended by the Union of Young Workers 25 and I was involved in the illegal communist party. As a young man in Varna I had joined the Union of Young Workers. I was recommended by Zahari Donchov from Varna, a classmate of my brother Perets, and I had to contact Jacques Baruh, who was a student of medicine in Sofia. Zahari Donchov and he were colleagues at the university.

I arrived in August, but he had gone to his birthplace, the town of Kyustendil. In the autumn Jacques Baruh came back and we met in the Jewish community house on Lege Street in Sofia. I went to the community house every evening to check if he was there. I remember clearly my first visit to the Jewish community house. I was welcomed by the librarian – the famous writer and activist Haim Benadov. He was a librarian and kept the community house from outsiders not sharing our views.

I definitely looked like an outsider. The situation was quite funny. Haim Benadov was short-sighted and he came near me and pretended to read something. He did that for a while and then he asked me who I was looking for. I said, ‘Jacques Baruh.’ ‘And who are you?’ ‘Don’t you see me, here in front of you?’ And I explained to him that I was from Varna and I was sent to contact Jacques Baruh, but I did not tell him why.

He put me in touch with Jacques Baruh and I met him. He, in turn, put me in touch with Baruh Shamli and he – with Haim Oliver. We were a whole group of UYW members or a youth unit at the workers’ party. One of the activists was Haim Levi-Haimush, future husband of the actress Luna Davidova. I also worked actively, mostly as a campaigner.

The Jewish school was also important for me for another reason. There I met and befriended my future wife Berta. Jacques Baruh introduced us to each other. He told us that we were people from a similar kind, with the same views. At first she and I met mostly at the so-called ‘meetings of sympathizers.’ They included not only members of the WP [Workers’ Party] 26, but also of the youth movement of the party, sympathizers and people sharing the same beliefs. For example, Violeta Yakova came. Berta also came often.

The topics we discussed were on a variety of issues – political, economic, theoretical [philosophical], social and even military ones when World War II started. At these events which resembled a circle of people with similar interests we could see who from us were the best prepared ideologically. Those who were not so well-prepared, had to move to other groups discussing other issues.

After the meetings the whole group went for a walk and if it was Saturday or Sunday, we went to the opera or to a concert. Berta and I were always together. Even as early as then she created the impression of a humble and considerate person who really listened to what the other was talking about. And these qualities were very important for me.

My wife Berta Kalaora, nee Isakova, was born on 29th March 1920 in the town of Gorna Dzhumaya, present-day Blagoevgrad. After she finished high school in Gorna Dzhumaya on 24th May 1937 she went to Kyustendil to live with her sister Buka Haravon, nee Isakova, who was seven or eight years older than her. Buka was married to Samuel Haravon, who worked as a tinsmith.

Berta could not stay and live with her step-mother, whose name I do not remember, because they did not get along well. Her step-mother was also a Jew, but she treated her very badly. But Berta’s father, Yako Sabetay Isakov, was a very nice man. He made quilts at people’s houses. He could barely make ends meet.

In Kyustendil Berta lived only a couple of months, because the Haravon family was also very poor. Then she came to live in Sofia where she worked as a librarian in the Jewish community house at Lege Street [at the crossing between Stamboliiski Blvd and Odrin Street]. She lived at the place of Raina Mayer, who now lives in Shumen, since she married in Shumen during her internment there 27.

Berta lived miserably at that time. She weighed hardly 45-46 kilos. She ate lentils, rice and tomatoes in a restaurant. I also went with her to this restaurant on Tsar Kaloyan Street near Stamboliiski Blvd [near the place where the Jewish Home in Sofia is located now] to check if she was eating well. At that time I worked as a press operator, and I had no problems at my work place because of my origin neither before nor after the Holocaust.

During the War

I remember the date 6th April 1941 very well. There was a bombing over Sofia during the evening by Serbian planes which was Serbia’s answer after the Germans attacked the Serbs from Bulgaria. [Editor’s note: Germany, Italy, Hungary and Bulgaria jointly attacked Yugoslavia in April 1941.]

During the day forty of us were on an excursion in Vitosha Mountain. We came back late and Berta and I decided that she would stay at my place. She went to sleep in my sister’s room and the bombing happened during the night. Right behind our home – we lived in a rented apartment on 51 Benkovska Street – a bomb fell down and four people were killed. That made us even closer, although we were still only friends.

Berta worked in the library only for about a year and two months. After that she left, because she was paid very little there. But for her this year was very fruitful, because it coincided with the golden period of the Jewish community house in Sofia. There were different circles there led by the best artists in Bulgaria at that time: in choir art – the conductor was the famous Bulgarian artist of Jewish origin Tsadikov –, in dramatic art – the famous Bulgarian directors of Jewish origin Mois Beniesh and Boyan Danovski staged plays in the community house starring artists such as Luna Davidova, Leo Konforti, etc. 

After she left that job, Berta found another one, which allowed her to pay the rent to Raina Mayer where she lived for free up to then. She became a typist in a shop, whose owner was a Jew. I do not remember his name. It was on Banski Square. That happened in 1942 when the decree to dismiss Jews from their jobs came into force. Then Berta once again was left without a job, but this time for a longer period.

During the internment, after the Law for the Protection of the Nation came into force in 1941, I was sent to a number of labor camps. I had to work first in the labor camps in the village of Beli Izvor, Ardino region in 1941, and in the village of Klisura, Tran region, in 1942. I came back for a little while from the labor camp in the village of Beli Izvor in November 1941 and then I was sent to the next one.

At that time Berta was worried and visited my parents very often. They were still in Sofia. By the way, when the Law for the Protection of the Nation was passed, my parents who lived in the center of the capital, on 51 Benkovski Street, were forced to live in Iuchbunar 28, the poor Jewish neighborhood in Sofia. They rented an apartment on 31 Sredna Gora Street Berta lived near then, also in a rented apartment. Soon my parents were interned to Shumen and Berta to Kyustendil.

When in 1941 I was released for a while from the camp in Beli Izvor, I came back to Sofia and I wanted very much to find a contact and enter once again the illegal organization fighting against the fascist power in Bulgaria. I missed my former activities. So I contacted Haim Oliver and he became my contact. But everything happened very slowly, that is, I was not given a serious task for a long time, and I started to become nervous.

At that time the commander of the illegal combat special task groups, Slavcho Radomirski, who was famous as a great street fighter, set fire to a workshop with leather coats worth around 20 million levs. These were special leather coats designed for the German armies on the Eastern front. The action was organized as an attempt to sabotage the Bulgarian production for the German troops. The accomplices were Violeta Yakova, Ivan Burudjiev and others. That happened in 1942.

But this action was criticized by the leadership of the Trade Union Commission at the District Committee of the still illegal Communist Party. Some, however, applauded it. Thus, an illegal group was formed whose aim was to continue to organize acts similar to that one. I was also in that group and I took part in it in the breaks between the three camps that I was sent to, that is during the days when I was on leave.

The other members of the group were Slavcho Radomirski, Violeta Yakova, Velichko Nikolov, Ivan Burudjiev, Mitka Grabcheva, Miko Papo, Zdravka Kimileva and Danka Ganchovska. The group was divided into a number of sub-groups which consisted of two to three people and did not know the members of the other sub-groups. Metodi Shatorov was the leader of the whole group.

My sub-group included at first Mitka Grabcheva, Velichko Nikolov, Zdravka Kimileva and me. Its goal was to assassinate General Lukov, who was honorary chairman of the Legion in Bulgaria and Lieutenant Colonel Pantev, who was former director of the police. I hated Lieutenant Colonel Pantev the most, because it was known that he had killed honest people, democrats, who had taken part in the illegal fight against fascism in Bulgaria.

Moreover, General Lukov and Lieutenant Colonel Pantev insisted that the symbolic war declared by Bulgaria against the USA and England should become a real one. That meant that Bulgaria would be involved in a war against the democratic camp of England, the USA and the USSR.

In the end, General Lukov was assassinated by the group of Ivan Burudjiev and Violeta Yakova. My group was divided into two pairs. The first pair had to shoot Lieutenant Colonel Pantev and the second one, Violeta Yakova and I, had to watch their backs. We assassinated him on 3rd January 1943, at 1:23am.

Meanwhile, when the decree for the internment of the Sofia Jews to the countryside came into effect in 1942, Berta was arranged to be interned to Kyustendil and I was sent to my second labor camp [in Klisura, Tran region].

What do I mean by ‘was arranged’? In fact, in the beginning Berta had to be interned to Vratsa, but my brother David Kalaora contacted the commissar on Jewish issues in Sofia and in exchange for some money arranged for Berta to be interned to Kyustendil so that she would live with her relatives: her sister Buka  lived there with her husband Sami Haravon. So Berta lived again with her sister in Kyustendil until 1st March 1944 – the day of our wedding in Shumen.

I have various memories from the different labor camps I have been to. For example, my first camp in the village of Beli Izvor, Ardino region, was bearable. I worked there for six months. In 1941 when the war against the USSR started and there was the danger that Bulgaria could be involved in a war against England, the USA and the USSR, we in the camp managed to steal some stone-mason’s explosive and combat capsules. Our aim was to give them to the partisans with whom we kept in touch. In my second labor camp in Klisura, Tran region, I personally kept in touch with the Serbian partisans who fought against the Germans.

I remember that my stay and my work in the second labor camp were more unpleasant than those in the first one. I was there once again for six months. Everyone in the camp worked very hard and the food was complete rubbish. I remember the hunger. We were hungry all the time. The food was always bean soup with hardly any beans in it. So, we, the prisoners, made jokes over our plates, calling, ‘Hey, show up!’ to the little bean at the bottom of our plates…It was very miserable.

The first three months we wore clothes given to us by the state, but then they made us work with our own clothes, which turned to shreds right away. 42 people lived in one tent. It was raining often. And when it stopped raining outside, it rained for another hour inside our tent.

Despite all that, there were some nice people among the commanders, who were all Bulgarians. For example, the commander of our labor group in the second camp was a great lover of music. Unfortunately, I do not remember his name. Thanks to him we managed to arrange for the great violinist, pedagogue and future professor Leon Surojon to be exempt from work. We wanted to spare his hands.

He, in turn, became our courier. He went to the village of Klisura, Tran region, to get the mail and learned the political and military news there, which he informed us about. We passed them on to the other groups. Moreover, Surojon was the first to know if the commanders of the camp groups had received an order dangerous for us, he warned us and we were more careful.

In the evenings one could often see the following scene in the camp: the silhouette of Leon Surojon playing the violin on a hill bathed in moonlight. His favorite piece, which also became my favorite later, was ‘Funny Story’ by Dvorzak. The commander of our labor group also sat among us and listened to him. During that time we had complete access to his tent. So, one day we stole his weapon without him finding out.

In 1943, while Berta was still in Kyustendil, I worked in my third labor camp which was in the town of Lovech and later it was moved to a neighborhood 4 kilometers away from Lovech. There I kept in touch with villagers from the nearby villages, who had radios. I visited them to listen to the news from the front. I also kept in touch with some partisans. Some of the men in the camp bought cheese from the villagers. The great opera singer Bitush Davidov was also among them. I was released from that camp in November 1943.

When I left my third labor camp, I hurried to go to Kyustendil to see Berta instead of going to Shumen first to see my parents who were interned there a year earlier, in1942. I was traveling in the train with the husband of Buka, Berta’s sister, with who she lived there. His name is Sami Haravon. We were both in the same camp in Lovech.

I did not wear the obligatory yellow star at that time. I only had my mobilization documents which all people in the labor camps had. The conductors realized that my star was missing, but pretended they did not see that. I was very lucky that no policemen got on the train. I do not know what would have happened to me if they had arrested me.

When I went to Kyustendil, Berta told me that she could no longer remain in this town, because she was in danger. She had become a member of the illegal District committee of the Workers’ Party [after 9th September 1944 the Bulgarian Workers’ Party changed its name to Bulgarian Communist Party]

At that time the future professor Simcho Aladjem led the youth movement in the party; he educated the youth in the spirit of communism. His father was a glazier and he inherited his business. One day the police in Kyustendil asked him to come to repair some windows. At that time I was at a labor camp.

While he was placing the glass sheets, a policeman approached him and started asking him about Berta – who she was, why they met etc. He lied right away that they were close friends, because their meetings as members of the Workers’ Party were illegal at that time. Then he told everything to Berta and she told the party secretary Ivan Nidev. When I came back from my third camp, he advised me to do everything I can to get Berta secretly out of Kyustendil.

Berta and I discussed this complicated situation and decided that it was high time we married. And during those days one had to have a serious reason to leave a town with the permission of the authorities: a funeral, wedding or birth. And now we found a reason to leave the town. We went to Shumen where my parents were interned and married there on 1st March 1944.

After the wedding in Shumen Berta and I packed our rucksacks in order to escape to another place, but the illegal organization of the Workers’ Party in Shumen insisted that we stay. The reason was that they did not have any people, whom they could trust to hide them. So, Berta and I took that risk and remained in Shumen until the end of the Holocaust.

The deputy commander of the Shumen partisan squad, Stoian Radoslavov, speaking about his memories of the events before 9th September 1944 still adds, ‘Only three secure Jewish apartments had remained: that of the Kalaora family, of Albert Basat and of Baruh Grimberg.’ And it was true that there were only three apartments that could be used as hiding places, because all the others had been arrested and sent to the labor camp in Enikioy, Xanthi region [Bulgarian occupied Aegean Thrace].

In Shumen Berta and I lived in a room with no windows, three by three and a half meters. A small sagging Turkish house plastered up with mud on the outside. We did not have any money to rent another house and that one at least was in the Shumen Jewish neighborhood near Tumbul Mosque. [Editor’s note: Shumen is a city with a large Turkish population even today and it used to have a much stronger Turkish character in the 1940s.] 29

Despite the risk, the humiliation and the poverty, there were things that brought us much joy. Such an example was Kiril Angelov, my employer in Sofia. He owned the shop in which I worked as a press operator. He was a craftsman, a very humble man. He supported me from the day we met, especially during the Law for the Protection of the Nation. He did all he could to send us money, because he knew that we were starving. Even after I married, he came to Shumen to see me and brought some things I could sell and use the money.

At that time, in order to make ends meet, I dug hiding places in Shumen. The money I received was only enough to buy rice and yogurt. [Editor’s note: ‘Kiselo mlyako’, literally ‘sour milk’ is one of the cheapest and most common food in Bulgaria.]

After the War

After 9th September 1944 Berta and I came back to Sofia. At first, until 1947 we lived with my parents on the last floor of the ‘Shalom’ building [this building still stands today on Stamboliiski Blvd. and is known as Bet Am – the Jewish home, housing the Organization of Jews in Bulgaria ‘Shalom’ and the Jewish community house ‘Emil Shekerdjiiski’] 30. At that time this building was also used as a police hospital for people wounded or tortured by the police. They were treated only to have strength to endure torture again.

For a while after 1944 I worked as director of state trade companies such as ‘Stroymatmetiz’ – the name is an acronym of construction materials and metal products – ironware –, ‘Shoes and Clothes’ and ‘Home Appliances.’

Berta, who worked in the trade union commission before 9th September 1944, which was illegal then, continued to work at first in the City Council of Trade Unions and then in the Central Council. At first she worked in the human resources department and then she headed the organizational department. After 1949 she became editor-in-chief of the ‘Trud’ newspaper 31 which propagated the communist ideas. Berta died this spring after a long illness. She spent her last nine years bedridden and I still can’t get over her death.

My daughter Dolya Leon Andreeva, nee Kalaora, was born on 6th January 1948 in Sofia. She finished the Russian high school ‘A. S. Pushkin’ [communist elite high school before 1989.]. Once a classmate of hers in the elementary classes mentioned to her that she was a Jew. She returned home puzzled and asked us, ‘Mum, dad, are we ‘evreitsi’? [Editor’s note: The correct word for Jews in Bulgarian is ‘evrei’; hearing the word the first time she used a made-up incorrect version.]

Then she graduated from the Faculty of Architecture Institute of Sofia University. While she was a student there, she had the following experience. In the break between two lectures the students in the corridor were talking to each other divided into two groups. Dolya and her friends were in one of the groups and a Syrian student with his Bulgarian friends in the other. One of her colleagues from the other group said something insulting about the Jews and Dolya went to him and slapped his face.

Today Dolya is married and has a son and a daughter. Her husband is also an architect. My life as a pensioner in Bulgaria was so to say quite restricted, as in the course of ten years I took care of my wife Berta, who was bedridden because of an illness.

Meanwhile I didn’t lose my connections with both the Jewish and the Bulgarian communities. One of the main reasons for me to meet with different people was my devotedness to the communist idea – I communicated mostly with my party comrades. I am still a member of the BSP [Bulgarian Socialist Party, heir to the former Bulgarian Communist Party after 1989]. I spend my pension mostly on medications. Yet, I am not complaining.

My friends after 1989 are mostly Jews. Like most of them I have received aid from Switzerland, Germany and the Joint 32. We usually gather in the Jewish home. We eat together. Then we play cards and talk. To tell you the truth, I do not feel well, when I am isolated from the other people.

During the totalitarian period my relations with my relatives, that is my brothers, cousins, and friends, have always been strong and unhindered. I am aware of the fact that among Jews in Bulgaria there were ones, who complained from obstructed contacts with their relatives in Israel, but I was never among them. I can only feel sympathy for them, without actually knowing anything specific. 

Glossary