Supernatural Survival

My father was born in today’s Belarus a country intermittently ruled by Russia and Poland. He was affectionately called by his friends Misha, and was quite an entrepreneur. He owned and operated several businesses in the town of Volkowisk and was doing well until 1939.

On the 1st of September Hitler invaded Poland and crushed its inapt to fight army.
In Belarus people had to register as Russians or Poles, he registered as Polish so when war broke out he was drafted to the Polish army.

(Soviet ID cards also contained records of nationality. Dutifully people had to express their national sentiments and make official declarations regarding national belonging. Catholics were usually Polish while those of the Eastern Orthodoxy were considered to be Russians. Those who had no Christian affiliation were considered to be Jews or agnostics. These IDs helped instill and fix the notion of belonging to a certain ethnic group.)

Stalin and Hitler made a deal that they would split the “Solomon’s baby” in half, but Stalin did not know that Hitler was not only after his half of the baby, but also after the mother herself, Russia.

When two crooks make a pact they only double up crookedness and unite in evildoing. Hitler wanted Poland because of its large Jewish population and it was the perfect place where he had planned his labor/extermination camps.

My father was called up to join the army fighting in the east, but being a God fearing man he prayed that he would not learn to kill or even hold a weapon. He was not a patriot; it was hard to be one. Many transients did not belong to any particular group.

Misha was rather of a short stature so he ended up the last in the line where the tallest were the first. The Polish army was poorly equipped and their weaponry was severely inadequate to fight the most modernly equipped German troops. As the rifles were being distributed a soldier finally came to Misha and said, “I am sorry but we are out of guns.” Misha’s faith in God was just then greatly strengthened. Then the soldier found him a bayonet and said. “Perhaps you can use this?” My father took the long knife only to cast it aside soon after.

		The weaponless soldier was assigned to communications. While operating the telephones his battalion was heavily bombarded and utterly destroyed. Most of his comrades were killed. Like orphans a group of five decided to take their chances and run under the enemy’s fire. My father, who was not even wounded, kept running and falling and running again until he realized that he was the only one running. Those that joined him died from the enemy fire. When my father finally managed to reach the hind side of the front Polish soldiers looked at him as if they were seeing a ghost. They knew that no one had survived the German fire so seeing Misha alive seemed incredible. Germans started to shoot again, and the battalion had got it. Someone was burnt up to a crisp. Panic seized the few that remained. My father decided to run west and again he was not alone. Those who did survive the fire took their chances with the “miracle boy.” They ran through the rain of enemy’s bullets.

As before Misha fell and ran and fell again, but when he got up he could only hear whistling bullets. While he did not oblige the bullets, by giving them lodging; the deadly messengers found their way to his companions. They did not get up anymore and my father was once more left alone.

It was the beginning of winter and it was getting colder each day. Misha found a corpse wearing fine German boots. He got his gloves, belt and boots and kept moving towards the nearest village. Dressed as Polish soldier and wearing German boots looked suspicious. Some were kind enough to let the survivor into their kitchen where they had warmed up the soldier with a hot bowl of sup and bread.

When it came to the Ten Commandments My father was more than “fanatical”, but his favored one was “the eleventh commandment” — THOU SHALT SURVIVE. By keeping just that one he could keep the ten for the dead keep no commandments… he thought.

He could not stay in the village too long, for to the Polish he was viewed as a deserter and to Russians as a spy and that’s exactly what happened. A Russian soldier caught Misha after he tried to cross a river. He had ordered my father to stand against a wall and was about to shoot him. Misha waited for the shot, but no shot came except a huge explosion near by and the Russ was gone. My father fell to his knees thanking the Almighty for another miracle.

There were more people who joined him, but by then they had reached the annexed by Hitler central Poland. They slept in haystacks and barns, dug up potatoes from the frozen ground and roasted them as they went. Most farmers did not know anything about anyone sleeping in their barns, however they knew of missing chickens and pigs, but did not dare to say anything about it.

The Russian offensive had started and the German troops with their frostbitten fingers clung to their positions. Stalin proved to be a great tactician and war strategist.

My father and his friends had to travel at night. As they were about to leave one of the haystacks they heard German shouting. Some understood German, but decided to remain still, but one of them understood German very well but he was no longer normal; I remember my father telling us. So that guy came out from the haystack and of course told on those hidden inside. The soldiers threatened to spray them with machine guns. The entire group was then taken prisoner in to a labor camp.

While in the labor camp my father—upon learning that he was a tailor—was assigned a lighter job. Tailoring officers’ uniforms, shining boots and grooming horses. I remember my father saying that he was very proud of being a great horseman as well as quality tailor.

The Soviet Army was pressing hard and the German army was on the run. They dynamited crematoria and burnt up most of the archives the records of their atrocities.

The Red Army kept liberating camp after a camp. My father’s camp was left deserted and the survivors dispersed. Those that could run ran, those that could walk walked, but the skeleton-like ones sat in silence. My father went to the train station and jumped on a transport train to the city of my childhood, Lodz.