Vladimir Goldman

This is me in a tank in Arkhangelsk in 1955 when I was in the army.

Odessa, Ukraine

We began to work with Vladimir Goldman on 24th September 2002. He was mortally ill at that time but it was his wish to tell us about his life. In fact he recollected his last strength to do so. We spoke in a large room full of books and the toys of his grandson. He was very weak and lying down throughout the interview. However, he still insisted that I should be served tea.

Vladimir Mironovich Goldman died on 9th October 2002. Hundreds of people came to his funeral: representatives of the Gemilut Hesed and all public organizations of the town. He was buried in accordance with Jewish traditions in the Jewish cemetery, near the graves of his parents, Maria Frenkel-Goldman and Miron Goldman. Four rabbis from Odessa, Nikolaev and Kherson lowered his coffin into the grave.


Interview details

Interviewee: Vladimir Goldman
Interviewer: Natalia Fomina
Time of interview: September 2002
Place: Odessa, Ukraine



My family background

My grandfather on my mother’s side, Natan Frenkel, was born in Proskurov, Podolsk province, in the early 1860s. My mother told me that my grandfather was very religious. He followed the kashrut, fasted on Yom Kippur and observed all traditions. He attended the synagogue, where he had a seat of his own, and prayed regularly. He had a tallit and all the other necessary accessories. He wore a black jacket, white shirt and a hat. He leased a plot of land from a landlord and hired employees to farm it. He gave crops to the landlord and left a portion for himself. He provided well for his family. My grandfather had a house in the Kut neighborhood at the outskirts of Proskurov. There were five or six rooms in the house. There were also sheds in the yard, but they didn’t have a garden.

My grandmother, Enia Frenkel, was born in the middle of the 1860s. She wore a wig when she was young. When she was old she covered her head with a shawl. My grandmother was a housewife and had a domestic aid who came to do housekeeping chores on Saturdays. My grandmother taught all her daughters how to cook and lay the table. My mother went to the market with my grandmother. Local farmers from the neighboring villages sold their products there: poultry, butter, milk, vegetables and fruit. My grandmother taught her how to make the best choices at the market. At dinner the whole family got together at the table. My grandfather sat at the head of the table and said a blessing over every dish.

My mother told me a lot about her family. She was very proud of their closeness. On Sabbath they dressed up and sat at the table with the visiting relatives. My grandmother lit two candles and my grandfather said a prayer. The family celebrated all Jewish holidays, but my mother’s favorite holidays were Chanukkah and Purim. On Chanukkah the children got gifts and Chanukkah gelt, and on Purim my grandmother made delicious hamantashen. On Yom Kippur the adults fasted and my mother observed this tradition until the end of her life.

My grandfather and grandmother had twelve children. Three of them died in infancy. The rest of them were Leo, Fenia, Naum, Marcus, Sophia, Betia, Maria, Rosa and Isaac. The sons studied in cheder and the girls received religious education at home – a melamed taught them the prayers. Proskurov was a small town and the children left for other places to live their own lives. Several of them moved to Odessa. In the late 1990s my cousins and I made an effort to create ‘The Frenkel family tree’. We managed to put together some things.

My mother’s oldest sister, Fenia, was born in 1882. She was a midwife. Fenia also took part in revolutionary activities. She married a Russian called Nikolay Baier. In the 1910s revolutionaries were persecuted. Fenia and her husband left for America. Aunt Fenia visited the USSR in the 1920s. She brought my parents some clothes, but they were afraid to wear them – there were so many jealous people around that might have reported to the authorities. In the 1930s, when it was dangerous to have relatives abroad [1], our family kept it a secret that my mother had a sister in America. I only heard about this after the war. Fenia died in the 1960s. Her husband Nikolay died in an old people’s home some time afterwards. After Fenia died her relatives sent us her family photographs.

The next children were twins: Sophia and Leo, born in Proskurov in 1881. Leo moved to Odessa and got married in the early 1900s. I know that they lived in Peresyp [2]. He had four children: Michael, Alexandr, Betia and Rosa. Michael, the oldest, was born in 1904. His younger daughter, Rosa, married Israel Zaslavskiy before the war and lived in Leningrad.

Sophia was the most talented one in the family. She finished grammar school in Proskurov and moved to Odessa where she graduated from the Medical University. She married her colleague, Ilia Kornblitt, a physician. Their daughter, Zhenia, was born in 1922. Zhenia entered the Medical Institute in Odessa before the war. During the war the Kornblitt family were in the ghetto. Zhenia’s fiancé, Henry Ostashevskiy, paid ransom for Zhenia to free her from the ghetto. There were Romanian guards in the ghetto, and it was possible to negotiate with them. She lived with counterfeit documents during the war. In 1942 her daughter, Valentine, was born. Ilia was killed in the ghetto. Sophia was in the Jewish ghetto in Domanevka village [3]. Sophia and Zhenia survived the war. Sophia’s family was the closest to our family.

The twins, Naum and Marcus, were born in 1884. Naum moved to Odessa and married Esphir Tsukerman. They had two children: Lyusik and Genia. Naum and his wife were killed in a ghetto near Odessa in 1942. Their children survived the war. Lyusik was at the front and Genia was in evacuation. Lyusik died in the 1990s, and Genia passed away in Moscow in 2001.

Marcus lived in Proskurov all his life. His wife’s name was Enta. They had two daughters: Lyusia, born in 1924, and Nyuta. Marcus died in the 1950s.

The next child, Betia, was born in 1890. She also moved to Odessa. She was a midwife. She married Emmanuil Rozenberg. He was an economist. They had two children: Nyusia and Mark. Emmanuil perished in Sevastopol at the beginning of the war.

My mother’s younger sister, Rosa, was born in 1895. She entered the Medical Institute in Odessa. Upon graduation she worked as a physiatrician. Rosa married a German man. His last name was Erlich. Their son, Oktav, was born in 1930. Rosa’s marriage failed and she divorced her husband before the war. Rosa and Oktav failed to evacuate. Rosa was aware of the Germans’ attitude towards Jews and always had morphine with her. When the Germans occupied Odessa she poisoned her son and herself to avoid the horrors of the ghetto.

Isaac was the youngest in the family, I believe. He was born at the end of the 1890s. I think he lived in Proskurov.

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My parents

My mother, Maria, was born in Proskurov in 1893. She was a very beautiful woman. Her sisters were also beautiful. My mother finished a Russian primary school. In the early 1920s she moved to Odessa and got a job as a hat maker. She got little money for her work, rented rooms and had meals at cheap canteens for workers and laborers. Her older sisters, Sophia and Rosa, helped her as much as they could. In 1925 Sophia and her husband met doctor Miron Goldman. He was single and Sophia decided to introduce him to her younger sister, Maria.

My grandfather on my father’s side, Israel Goldman, was born in the town of Akkerman, Bessarabia [4], in the early 1860s. Akkerman, which is now called Belgorod-Dnestrovsk, was located on the bank of the Dnestr firth. It was a picturesque town. In the 1980s I visited it to look for my grandparents’ graves and saw gravestones from the 17th century at the local cemetery. The town had Russian, Ukrainian, Moldavian, Gagauz [5], Hungarian and Jewish inhabitants. There was a synagogue and a Jewish community. My grandfather owned a wine store and a tavern on the outskirts of town. He died in the 1890s. My grandmother, Masia Goldman, raised their five sons alone.

My grandmother was younger than my grandfather. She was born in the late 1860s. My father told me that she was a very special person. After my grandfather died she took over his business. The store was in the same house where they lived, and from what my father told me, I imagine that it was just a room with a separate door. Jews had their houses spread all over the town. My father told me that they got on very well with their neighbors. During a big pogrom in 1905 a Christian priest, their neighbor, gave them shelter in his house.

On Pesach Grandmother Masia cooked traditional Jewish food: gefilte fish and pudding from matzah that she bought at the synagogue. She put a decanter of wine on the table. They went to the synagogue on holidays and celebrated Sabbath. My father didn’t tell me whether they followed the kashrut. My grandmother died in the 1910s before I was born.

My father had four brothers, but I only know details about two of them. His brother Leo was born around 1884. He lived in Akkerman. He was a merchant before the Revolution of 1917 [6]. He spoke Romanian and often went to purchase goods in Romania. I believe he was a merchant after the Revolution, too, but I’m not sure. He evacuated from Bessarabia in 1941 and came to Odessa. He was in the ghetto with us. He was shot in Dalnik [7] near Odessa on 23rd February 1942.

My father’s other brother, Zeilik, was born in 1886. He also lived in Akkerman. He was married twice. He had a daughter, Mirrah, with his first wife. His first wife died. His second wife’s name was Rukhl. They had two children: a son, Sasha, and a daughter, Bronia. During the Great Patriotic War [8] he was in evacuation in Fergana. After the war he returned to Belgorod-Dnestrovsk and continued to work in commerce. He died in the 1970s. Mirrah moved to Israel in the 1980s. She died in 1989. Sasha died in Rovno in 1992, and Bronia in Belgorod-Dnestrovsk in 1998.

My father, Miron Goldman, was born in 1888. In 1907 he finished the 5th grade of a Russian secondary school in Akkerman. After that he studied pharmacy in the Moldavian village of Budaki and began to work in the village. He also treated people from the surrounding villages. He was called to families at any time of the day and night.

In 1914, when World War I began, my father was mobilized to the tsarist army. He was an assistant doctor in a hospital. Between 1920 and 1924 he studied at the Medical Faculty of the Donskoy University in Rostov and later continued his studies at the Medical Institute in Odessa. Upon graduation from the Institute my father worked at the Skin Diseases and Veneorological Hospital that became a Skin and Veneorology Research Institute later. [Editor’s note: At present this building houses the Israeli Cultural Center.] In 1928 my father reaffirmed his qualification as a veneorologist at the Professional Education Commission of the Ministry of Education of the USSR.

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Growing up

My mother and my father got married in 1925. After the wedding they settled down in a very small apartment. They lived there until 1938. My mother worked as a part time nurse before I was born. She didn’t have any medical education, but she learned from my father. My sister, Tamara, was born in 1926 and I followed on 15th April 1934. I remember our yard and our apartment on the 2nd floor. It was a one-bedroom apartment with a very small kitchen. There was a stove in the kitchen that heated the whole apartment. Our neighbors were German colonists [9]: the family of Berzer, father, mother and three sons, who were recruited to the Soviet army before the Great Patriotic War.

In 1938 my parents borrowed some money and exchanged the old apartment for a bigger one. I remember that they were paying back their debt for a number of years. It was a three-bedroom apartment: a living room with a balcony and two smaller bedrooms. There was a small kitchen and a toilet in the apartment, which was rare at the time. There was running water and a sink in the kitchen. The stove was stoked with wood and coal. There was also a shed in the yard. It was very hot in this apartment in summer – we opened the windows at night and closed them during the day. We had a cupboard, a table in the middle of the living room, a few wardrobes and chairs. My father worked, and my mother was a housewife. We weren’t a wealthy family. We didn’t have many clothes. My father had one suit that he wore to work and on holidays. He had a low salary, and we couldn’t afford much from what he was earning.

In the 1930s, during the Stalinist repression [the so-called Great Terror] [10], he was called to the GPU [11] office. He never mentioned anything about it to the family. My father was afraid of any anti-Soviet discussions and we never discussed anything against the Soviet authorities in our family.

In the summer my father took on additional work in a recreation center named after V. I. Lenin in Kuyalnik [12]. He was staying in a room there and my mother, sister and I were staying with him. The center was near the sea and we had an opportunity to have a wonderful vacation at the seashore.

My father was a tall and thin man. He used to take me to the kindergarten teaching me numbers and letters on our way. He was an atheist and his ‘Lord’ was his conscience. He told me to be good to other people. He said that even if ten people would forget that you were good to them the eleventh would remember and pay you back tenfold for what you did for him.

My mother came from a religious family and brought Jewish traditions into our family. I can’t say that we observed all traditions, but my mother always celebrated Jewish holidays. She told us about the history of these holidays. She was a kind woman and always shared what we had with other people. She always treated visitors to a meal. She used to make a big bowl of soup, and my friends always knew that they could have a bowl of soup at our place, even during the most difficult times. My mother cooked traditional food: chicken soup or broth, stuffed chicken neck, potato pancakes – latkes and forshmak. She also made soup with beans and used the beans from it for a second course. She was very handy about housekeeping and always had some savings. She made gefilte fish on holidays.

My mother didn’t have any education, but she was smart and sensitive and very good at resolving everyday issues. My father could always rely on her. They lived a long life together and were always affectionate in the way they treated each other. We spoke Russian in the family. Sometimes my mother and father switched to Yiddish, especially when they didn’t want my sister or me to understand what they were talking about.

I have very warm memories of my childhood with my sister, Tamara. She started to study at the Russian secondary school in 1933. She had several Russian friends. Her friends always supported us, especially when we were in the ghetto during the war. Tamara was a cheerful and artistic girl. She was fond of poetry and read a lot. She was easy-going, sociable, charming and kind. She was the life and soul of any party. I enjoyed spending time with her. Tamara helped my mother about the house.

My parents had many friends; most of them were Jews. My parents were very close with my mother’s sisters and brothers. My mother’s brother Leo lived in Peresyp. My mother’s sister Rosa lived in the center of the town. My parents were very close with my mother’s sister Sophia and her husband Ilia. Ilia was a very intelligent man. They lived near the Music College. They had a spacious apartment with a big living room where they received guests. They always had pets: a dog, pigeons and exotic turtles. I enjoyed visiting them, but Ilia scared me a little. His face still showed traces of lupus that he had after he returned from the Soviet-Finnish war [13]. His face was covered with scabs, but he was nice to me and told me not to be afraid of his looks. We got together on Jewish and Soviet holidays and at birthdays. We spoke Russian and sometimes Yiddish.

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The war begins

On 22nd June 1941 the war began. I was to begin school on 1st September, but the front was near Odessa so I didn’t. The hospital where my father worked was converted into a military hospital. My father became the director of the hospital. His brothers, Leo and Zeilik, and their families were going to evacuation by train. Their train stopped in Odessa for a day and they came to say goodbye to us. Uncle Leo fell ill and stayed with us. My father submitted his request for the evacuation of his family to the district party committee. We received boat tickets, but my mother said that we had to go with my father. The authorities were promising my father to evacuate him later with other officials, but they didn’t keep their promise. We all stayed. They didn’t evacuate the hospital or its patients. My father continued working even during the occupation.

On one of those days an incident happened that confirmed my father’s saying that goodness has its own ways. At the beginning of the occupation the Soviet counterintelligence blasted the building of the town council. The Germans began to take hostages. They shot or hung all of their captives in Alexandrovskiy Garden: young and old, communists and Jews. My mother and father were going home after visiting Aunt Rosa. They were captured by a policeman. He asked them who they were. My father said, ‘I’m a doctor’ and the policeman replied, ‘Ah, a doctor. A doctor is a zhyd [a kike], a prosecutor is a zhyd. You were spoiling our life, and we will do away with you’. He was escorting them to the commandant office when they met two young girls of about 18 years old. They asked him whom he was escorting, and he said that they were zhyds and that they would be shot. The girls told him that the man was a venereologist and cured many people. They suggested that the policeman went for a walk with them leaving my parents alone, and he did let my father and mother go. My father said these girls were like two angels. He had never treated women, which means that one of my father’s patients must have told the girls who he was. Tamara and I were waiting for our parents at home worrying about them when the door opened and they came in.

Raids began in the town at the end of October. The Germans were capturing Jews taking them to schools where they were held until further decisions were made about them. When the policemen were escorting us from our house some of the children shouted ‘zhyd’ at me – this was the first time I heard this word. We were taken to school #122. Some of the people from there were sent to prison, some went to work and some were taken to Dalnik where they were shot. At that time we didn’t know where the people were taken.

The school building got overcrowded. We didn’t get any food and ate what we had taken from home: dried bread, onions and salt. Over 60 years have passed since then, but I still remember the taste of this dry bread. There was no water and the toilets didn’t work. We were taken to Olgievskiy Garden for roll-calls. Later we were taken to prison in Odessa. It was overcrowded, too. People were standing and lying on the floors. The Germans were continuously beating people. They took away small young girls and raped them near the prison. It was a nightmare.

On the next day the Germans began to form groups of 100-200 men. Later we found out that they were taken to clear fields from mines in the vicinity of Odessa. They were forced to march the field and the mines exploded killing people. At the end of the day the survivors were shot by the Germans. We got to know later that about 25,000 Jews and prisoners of war were taken to a gunpowder storage facility in Tolbukhin Street on 26th October. They were forced into the barracks. The Germans poured gasoline over the barracks and set them on fire. The stench didn’t vanish for several weeks.

We starved in the prison. There was no food left, and there were rumors that we would be shot. This lasted until the beginning of December 1941 when we were released from prison. We went home. We had good neighbors and they let us in. Some Jews weren’t allowed to go back to their apartments. People drew crosses with candles on the gates to indicate that there were no Jews in the building. Our apartment was occupied by our neighbor. We moved into her apartment. We didn’t have anything with us. Our neighbors brought us some things: a bed cover, a pillow and something else.

We didn’t have money or any belongings to exchange for food. My mother got a big bowl of soybeans somewhere. It saved us. There was an inn nearby and the Romanians kept their horses there. [The interviewee is referring to the Romanian occupation of Odessa.] [14] Someone told a Romanian officer that my father was a venereologist. This officer told my father that if he cured him he would spare his life and if not he would shoot him. He had gonorrhea. The only medication my father had was sulfidine, but he cured the officer. I remember that this Romanian brought my father a big loaf of bread, a bottle of wine and some other food. My father fell ill with typhoid. The only treatment my mother could give him was tea with a little bit of wine in it, but it helped and my father recovered.

Winter began, and it was very cold. Policemen and Romanians continuously came to search for weapons and partisans. We were in fear of what was going to happen to us, but our neighbors respected my father and protected us. At the end of December an order was issued for all Jews to get to Slobodka [15] before 10th January 1942. On this day our family, Uncle Leo and our Jewish neighbors went there. In Pishonovskiy Lane we met two women carrying buckets with water. They said, ‘You’ll be lucky. You’ll survive’. It is a Russian superstition that meeting a woman with a bucket full of water means good luck. It was freezing on that day. The crowd was guarded by Romanians with dogs. I was freezing so much that I kept screaming. A Romanian officer asked my parents why I was screaming. Uncle Leo said that I had my feet and face frost-bitten. The officer told us to get into the nearest house. They were small houses with summer kitchens in the yard. We settled down in a summer kitchen. The rest of the people were taken to Dalnik and shot.

We lived in this house for ten days. When policemen came for us the landlady said that a Romanian officer ordered us to stay there, and they left us alone. My mother had a little bit of flour. She made kneydlakh. There was another raid on 20th January and we were taken to the ghetto in the Navy College. The building was overcrowded. The windows were broken and there was no heating. The sewerage didn’t function. We stayed there until the spring. My father met a few doctors that he knew and they gave him an armband with a red cross on it. It meant that he was a doctor. There was no medication in the ghetto. Our family lived in a bigger room with other doctors. There were double-deck beds in the room where we slept.

Every day people were taken to Dalnik. On 23rd February 1942 almost all inmates were taken there. On this day the typhoid epidemic started in the ghetto and the guards were afraid that it would spread over town. I fell ill with typhoid. A Romanian officer came to the ghetto. He didn’t believe that I had high fever and checked it himself. He let me stay along with my family. Only Leo was taken with the others because my father failed to convince the guards that he was a doctor’s assistant. We never saw him again.

Those were hard days. Many people died. There was no food, and the inmates of the ghetto were trying to exchange whatever little they had for food. Our friends and acquaintances or just kind people took some food to the fence of the ghetto. They threw corn or potatoes over the fence. Our neighbors and Tamara’s school friends brought us food. Even our former German neighbors, the Berzers, brought us food. I can still remember the taste of fried potatoes in a ceramic pot. The Berzers suggested to my parents that they would take me with them to save my life. My parents told me to make a decision. I decided to stay with my parents.

When I was already on my way to recovery I began to walk on the floor where we were staying and I got to the attic once. I found many small boxes with leather straps there. Many decades later I realized that these were tefillin. Older people went to the attic to pray hiding from guards and left their tefillin there.

In June or July 1942 policemen announced that the ghetto was to be closed. Policemen and Romanians told all inmates to come to the main yard. If people couldn’t walk, they were taken out with their beds. We were told to stand on the right side and on the left side. The beds with patients were on the left side, and our family stood on the right. We were taken to the Sortirovochnaya railroad station and told to board railcars for coal transportation. There were so many people that it was difficult to stand. I don’t remember how long we were on the way.

When the train stopped and we got out of the railcars someone cried out, ‘Have they brought niggers [African Americans]?’ People fell out onto the platform black from coal dust. We saw a well and drinking-troughs for cows. We rushed to the drinking-troughs, but the policemen said, ‘They are for cattle and not for zhyds [kikes]’. He told us to drink from a puddle. We drank from the puddle and the water appeared to be good to us.

In the morning we started our way through the steppe. Policemen shot those who couldn’t keep up with the rest. A Romanian soldier hit me on the head with his rifle-butt. We came to Piatikhatki in Beryozovskiy district. There were trailers in the steppe where we settled down. We were to farm cornfields. Nobody took any notice of age or health conditions. There were a few prisoners of war with us. Policemen were our guards. We didn’t have any food and ate corn sprouts. We were punished for picking up corn.

At the end of July 1942 we were sent to Domanevka camp [16]. From Domanevka we were taken to Akhmechetka camp [17] – it was a cattle farm that had been converted into a camp. The inmates were given no food. Groups of ten inmates went to fetch water and the policemen entertained themselves by shooting the last one in the group. The inmates ate grass around the camp. Later we were sent to a camp in the village of Paseka. There was a barrack in the steppe with about 200 Jews in it. They worked in a vegetable field. Life became easier. We could eat a carrot or a beetroot. My father cured the inmates of the camp. Villagers also came to ask his advice. He made ointments for them from what they brought him and used the remains to cure the inmates.

We stayed there from August 1942 to March 1944. Tamara worked in a joiner’s workshop. She washed and cleaned it. My mother and father worked in the field. Some time ago I tried to obtain a certificate about our stay in the camp, but I was told that there were no documents left to confirm that we had been there. I addressed the Holocaust Museum in Washington with the same request. I received a response stating that Miron and Tamara Goldman and Maria Goldman-Frenkel were in Akhmechetka camp as of 1942. They even sent a copy of the work rooster with their signatures. I recognized my father’s handwriting. There was also another document stating that there were doctors among the inmates of Domanevka camp: Turner, Sibner, Goldman and Sushon.

In 1944 the Romanian units ran away. They were followed by the Vlasov units [18] and the Kalmyks [19], who were worse than the Germans. They took adult men with them, and we decided that my father had to escape. My father left. We didn’t know where he was and went to look for him. We kept asking people where Jews were staying and found him in a barrack with Jews in another village. By that time the Germans arrived in that village. They searched the inmates of the barrack and found German pressed cotton wool, a few vials of iodine, a razor and a Soviet passport. They started shouting at my father that he was a partisan and that he had stolen the cotton wool. They intended to shoot him. A German soldier took my father outside. I fell to his knees crying and kissing his boots begging him to let my father go. I must have melted his heart, because he did.

At night there were guards around the barrack. We decided to run away. At dawn we left the barrack. We walked the whole day until we came to a village. There was a barrack with Jews near the village and Kalmyks around the village. They were cooking lamb meat. We were hungry and I managed to pick some. I took it to the barrack and my mother and other women washed and cooked them. We had some food and left again at dawn. We went in the direction of Paseka where we left Tamara. We were afraid to go to the village and were hiding in pits in the field. My mother went to the village late. She returned a few hours later and told us that the Germans registered every individual in the barrack and threatened to kill ten people if one of them disappeared. We decided to return to the barrack.

In the morning the Germans ordered us to go in the direction of the Dnestr. It was especially sad, because we could see Red Army soldiers on the opposite bank of the Yuzhniy Bug, but we were separated by the river. We kept walking for a few days. Some people approached my father asking him to tell our guards to shoot them because they were too exhausted to keep walking. Our army was close. We stopped in some village. Our family was accommodated in a cellar. The owners of the house brought us some milk and mamaliga.

In the morning Soviet secret service men came to the village. They were dirty and had no uniforms on. The mistress of the house gave them some food and they moved on. Later the regular army units came to the village. Officers from the secret service department interrogated us and allowed us to start on our way back home. We went in the direction of Odessa. Soldiers shared their food with us on our way. Villagers allowed us to stay in their homes overnight.

Odessa was liberated on 10th April. Around the same time Tamara got a lift in a vehicle with the military. She reached Odessa on 12th April. My father, mother and I returned walking home on foot. On the way we met the Kroletskiy family, my parents’ acquaintances. They were also going back to Odessa. Sergey Kroletskiy was Ukrainian and his wife, Lida, was a Jew, but they kept it a secret. She was a blond with blue eyes and pretended she was Ukrainian. She spoke fluent Ukrainian. Sergey had continuous problems with the sigurantza [the Romanian secret police] or the police because he looked very much like a Jew. However, he managed to survive. They had a cow and a horse pulling a cart. They had two children: 9-year-old Natasha and 8-year- old Tolik. Sergey told Lida to get off the cart and put my mother on it. When we entered Odessa the town was still on fire: the heating plant and the bakery were ablaze. We stayed with Sergey and Lida in their small room for some time. I took the horse and the cow to pasture in the Duke’s Garden, and my mother was helping Lida with the cooking.

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Post-war

After a week we went to our home and found our apartment occupied by a woman who had moved in during the occupation with a Romanian colonel. My father went to the military commandant of the town, and she was forced to leave our apartment within 24 hours. When we entered it we found no belongings of ours: no furniture, nothing. We slept on the floor the first night. My father went to work wearing Sergey’s trousers and shirt. Our neighbors brought us some pieces of furniture and kitchen utensils. I still remember our old lampshade that my mother used for melting pork fat. My friends were treated to pork fat spread on a slice of bread. After the war my mother fasted regularly. I fasted along with her, although she told me not to. But I remembered all the horrors of the ghetto and starvation, and I believed that if I fasted my future children and grandchildren would not know the feeling of being hungry. I only hope that my successors will always have enough food.

Aunt Sophia returned from Domanevka to Odessa. She lived with her daughter, Zhenia, and her husband Henry and granddaughter Valentine. She continued working as a doctor. Zhenia graduated from the Medical Institute and became a physician. Henry finished theatrical school and became one of the leading actors of the Ukrainian Theater in Odessa. Valentine also graduated from the Medical Institute and defended her Candidate of Science thesis. She was a good cardiologist. Aunt Sophia died in 1962. She was buried in the Jewish cemetery. Valentine married Victor Zaslavskiy, the grandson of Leo Frenkel, Rosa’s son from Leningrad. They had a daughter, Lana. Victor had leukemia. When he died in the 1980s he bequeathed to his family to move to another country. In 1989 they moved to the United States. They live in Seattle.

When we returned to Odessa my mother went to the director of the Russian secondary school and asked him to admit me to the 3rd grade. I was 10, but I hadn’t gone to school yet. My father and Tamara taught me to read and write in the ghetto. The director offered me to go to the 1st grade, but my mother was afraid that I was too big and the children would laugh at me. On the one hand, she was right, but on the other hand she wasn’t: I made 62 mistakes in my first dictation. I could only write in capital letters. I didn’t know any arithmetic and all the years at school were very difficult for me.

My classmates, Vova Kovalyov and Igor Ustinov, were my best friends and helped me a lot. I finished lower secondary school with satisfactory marks. In the 5th grade I went in for sports. I was in the tourist club, and it was very stimulating. My friends decided to go to a technical college after we finished the 7th grade, and I decided to join them. My father wanted me to finish higher secondary school and go to university. But I felt so miserable even thinking about studying that I told him of my decision to continue my education at a technical college.

The Food Industry College seemed most attractive to me. They paid a stipend and had practical courses at the bakery or meat factory. When I told my father about my plans he burst into laughter and asked me whether I was still hungry. I said that I was thinking about my children and about the possibility of bringing them a slice of bread. But there was high competition to get into the Food Industry College and my friends decided to go to the Survey College instead. I decided to join them, and we became students in 1948. I was working hard and gradually improving. At the end of my studies I defended my thesis on the subject of ‘measurement of big quantities of liquid and gas’. I organized a tourist club in the college and we went hiking to the Crimea. There were Jewish and Russian students, but there was no anti-Semitism.

In 1948 I heard the news about Israel. I’ve always sympathized with this country. I’ve been blessed with three visits to the Promised Land. My trips were organized by the Christian organization ‘Even Ether’. I went there for the first time in 1993 and my last visit was in 1998.

1952 was a difficult time because of the so-called Doctors’ Plot [20]. We were very concerned, but God was merciful, and my father kept his job. Izia Zaslavskiy, the husband of my cousin Rosa, a high official at the city executive committee in Leningrad, committed suicide as a result of this anti-Semitic plot. He left Rosa and their sons behind. Rosa had to go to work as a packer at a factory. Her sons both went to university, got a higher education and defended their theses. Regretfully, they died of cancer when they were young.

In 1953, when Stalin died, I was taking a course of practical training at the Lvov Instrumentation Factory. All employees were listening to the radio broadcast about his death. Many of them were crying. My fellow students and I decided to become Komsomol [21] members. When I returned to Odessa I submitted my request, but I was rejected. This was the impact of the Doctors’ Plot. Jews were not admitted to the Komsomol or to the Communist Party. However, the district Komsomol committee explained their rejection was my lack of knowledge of the Beriya report [22].

I finished college in 1953 and expressed my wish to go to work in Arkhangelsk [2,000 km from Odessa]. My fellow students, Musik Volodarskiy and Senia, also came with me. We received an apartment in Severo-Dvinsk. We worked in a laboratory in Arkhangelsk. We were responsible for the inspection of all instrumentation to be installed in submarines. We arrived in Arkhangelsk in August, and in November Musik and I were recruited to the army. We were sent to a tank school in Arkhangelsk. We didn’t get sufficient food there. At the beginning we had some savings to buy white bread and butter, but gradually we switched to buying brown bread and margarine until we ran out of money. After lunch at the canteen we put bread in our pockets to have it later. After school we were assigned to tank units. By the end of my service I was promoted to the rank of junior lieutenant and became the commander of a tank. I entered the Komsomol League. When I returned to Odessa in 1955 my sister Tamara bought me my first suit.

Tamara graduated from the Dentistry Faculty of the Medical Institute after the war. From 1952 until 1990 she worked in Noviye Beliary village [40 km from Odessa]. She married Zinoviy Natanzon, who had finished the Mining College in Kiev. They had two children: Irina and Michael. Irina, born in 1954, graduated from the Odessa Construction Institute. Michael failed to get a higher education in Odessa due to state anti-Semitism. He went to Tomsk where he graduated from the Faculty of Automation of Control Systems at the Tomsk Polytechnic Institute. Zinoviy died in 1983. He was buried in the Jewish cemetery. Tamara and her children moved to Israel in 1990. She died in 1994.

I couldn’t find a job after I returned from the army. We recalled one of Tamara’s acquaintances whose father was a partisan during the war and worked at the Starostin plant after the war. This acquaintance and I went to director of the plant to ask him to employ me. He was worried about Item 5 [23]. However, I was employed as an electrician. I worked in this position for about three years. My performance was noticed by my management, and I was promoted to the position of a technician. At the plant I took an active part in public activities: amateur art and tourism.

I went on business tours looking for equipment. After ten years my management was planning to appoint me secretary of the Komsomol unit of the plant, but I said to them, ‘Look, the director of the plant is Ivan Solovei, the party secretary of the party unit is Tanov, the trade union leader is Stepanov. [Editor’s note: These are all typical Russian names.] Now, do you really want to spoil the whole picture by adding a Goldman?’ They all laughed.

I entered the Faculty of Water Supply and Sewerage at the Construction Institute. I had tried six times to enter an institute, the Polytechnic Institute, the Leningrad Technological Institute, the Institute of Refrigeration Equipment, failing over and over again. I didn’t understand that the reason was anti-Semitism on the state level.

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My wife

Meeting my future wife helped me. I met Maya Kangun at my friends’ place. I liked her very much and she seemed to like me. We got married on 4th December 1960. I was 26 and Maya was 20. I was working at the plant, and Maya was a student at the Institute of Foreign Languages, which was incorporated into Odessa University later. Maya came from a patriarchal family. Her parents spoke Yiddish. Her father, David Isaacovich, went to the synagogue where he had a seat of his own. He was a political officer and participated in the defense of Stalingrad. He graduated from a pedagogical institute and was a teacher of mathematics. He was a very smart, intelligent and reserved man.

Maya’s mother, Sopha Kangun, also graduated from a pedagogical institute. She was deputy director in a school. They celebrated Jewish holidays, cooked traditional Jewish food and lit candles. On Pesach they bought matzah. That’s how I came to go to the synagogue for the first time. I had to get some matzah there, but gradually I got interested in the history and religion of the Jewish people. It was impossible to get a Torah at that time so I bought the Bible. I started reading the Old Testament. David Isaacovich gave me a number of books about the history and traditions of the Jewish people. I was very fond of reading. I’ve always bought books and have a good collection.

Maya’s uncle, Joseph Wolfovich Goldfarb, one of the founders of the Construction Institute, helped me to enter the evening department of this institute. I worked during the day and attended classes in the evening. I studied at the Institute for six years. I got along well with my fellow students and teachers. I graduated from the Institute in 1966. In the same year I quit my job at the plant and got another job in the Housing Design Institute. I became chief engineer of the gasification project. I worked in this Institute for 27 years. I had a wonderful relationship with my colleagues. Even after I retired I continued working for them as an advisor. I also volunteered to work at the Association of Inmates of Concentration Camps and Ghetto. I became a member of the council of the Association and then its Deputy Chairman.

Our daughter, Larissa, was born in 1963. She finished secondary school in 1981 and entered the Institute of Navy Engineers. She graduated in 1986 and got a job as a construction engineer with a design company. Since 1990 she has worked for Jewish organizations. In 1995 she married Alexandr Bykov. He is Russian and a candidate of technical sciences. Their son, Dennis, was born in 1996. Last fall he started the first grade of a private Jewish school. He studies Hebrew and Jewish traditions.

My mother died in 1972. My father died in 1990 when he was 102 years old. They were both buried in the Jewish cemetery.

In the late 1980s Jewish life in Odessa started to revive. A Jewish cultural association was founded in 1989. The Sochnut [Jewish Agency] and the Joint [American Jewish Distribution Committee] also set up their offices in town. The Jewish community got back the ownership of the main synagogue in Richelieu Street. Two Jewish newspapers are published, Or sameach and Shomrey shabos.

In 1993 I was invited to the Joint and offered the position of the director of the Jewish charity center. They convinced me to accept their proposal, and I quit my work at the Institute. This was at the very beginning of the organization’s work. We got an office in the Jewish Cultural Center in Vorovskogo Street, and later we moved to Polskiy Spusk. In 1996 the Jewish community from Baltimore gave our charity center a big office in Troitskaya Street. We started by providing services to 40 people that were registered at the Jewish Cultural Association. At present we provide services to about nine thousand people in Odessa and Odessa region.

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Glossary

[1] Keep in touch with relatives abroad: The authorities could arrest an individual corresponding with his/her relatives abroad and charge him/her with espionage, send them to concentration camp or even sentence them to death.

[2] Peresyp: An industrial neighborhood in the outskirts of Odessa.

[3] Domanevka: District town in Odessa region. Hundreds of thousands Jews were exterminated in the camp located in this town during the war.

[4] Bessarabia: Historical area between the Prut and Dnestr rivers, in the southern part of Odessa region. Bessarabia was part of Russia until the Revolution of 1917. In 1918 it declared itself an independent republic, and later it united with Romania. The Treaty of Paris (1920) recognized the union but the Soviet Union never accepted this. In 1940 Romania was forced to cede Bessarabia and Northern Bukovina to the USSR. The two provinces had almost 4 million inhabitants, mostly Romanians. Although Romania reoccupied part of the territory during World War II the Romanian peace treaty of 1947 confirmed their belonging to the Soviet Union. Today it is part of Moldavia.

[5] Gagauz: A minority group in the territory of Moldavia and the Ukraine, as well as Bulgaria, Rumania, Greece and Turkey. It numbers about 200,000 individuals. Their language is Turkic in origin. In the Ukraine their written language is based on the Russian alphabet. They are Christian.

[6] 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.

[7] Dalnik: Village 20 km from Odessa, the site of mass executions of Jews during the war.

[8] 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.

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

[10] 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.

[11] GPU: State Political Department, the state security agency of the USSR, that is, its punitive body.

[12] Kuyalnik: Balneal resort named after the firth called Kuyalnik on the northern-western coast of the Black Sea near Odessa.

[13] Soviet-Finnish War (1939-40): The Soviet Union attacked Finland on 30 November 1939 to seize the Karelian Isthmus. The Red Army was halted at the so-called Mannengeim line. The League of Nations expelled the USSR from its ranks. In February-March 1940 the Red Army broke through the Mannengeim line and reached Vyborg. In March 1940 a peace treaty was signed in Moscow, by which the Karelian Isthmus, and some other areas, became part of the Soviet Union.

[14] Romanian occupation of Odessa: Romanian troops occupied Odessa in October 1941. They immediately enforced anti-Jewish measures. Following the Antonescu-ordered slaughter of the Jews of Odessa, the Romanian occupation authorities deported the survivors to camps in the Golta district: 54,000 to the Bogdanovka camp, 18,000 to the Akhmetchetka camp, and 8,000 to the Domanevka camp. In Bogdanovka all the Jews were shot, with the Romanian gendarmerie, the Ukrainian police, and Sonderkommando R, made up of Volksdeutsche, taking part. In January and February 1942, 12,000 Ukrainian Jews were murdered in the two other camps. A total of 185,000 Ukrainian Jews were murdered by Romanian and German army units.

[15] Slobodka: Neighborhood on the outskirts of Odessa.

[16] Domanevka: District town in Odessa region. Hundreds of thousands Jews were exterminated in the camp located in this town during the war.

[17] Akhmechetka: Village in the Domanevka district in the Odessa region. Hundreds of thousands of Jews were exterminated in the camp located in this village during the World War II.

[18] Vlasov military: Members of the voluntary military formations of Russian former prisoners of war that fought on the German side during World War II. They were led by the former Soviet general, A. Vlasov, hence their name.

[19] Kalmyk: A nationality living on the Lower Volga in Russia. During World War military formations set up by Kalmyk prisoners of war fought on the side of the Germans.

[20] 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.

[21] 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

[22] Beriya, L. P. (1899-1953): Communist politician, one of the main organizers of the mass arrests and political persecution between the 1930s and the early 1950s. Minister of Internal Affairs, 1938-1953. In 1953 he was expelled from the Communist Party and sentenced to death by the Supreme Court of the USSR.

[23] Item 5: This was the nationality factor, which was included on all job application forms, Jews, who were considered a separate nationality in the Soviet Union, were not favored in this respect from the end of World War WII until the late 1980s.

Arnold Fabrikant

Arnold Fabrikant in Odessa in 1975. 

Odessa, Ukraine

Arnold Fabrikant is a very lively old man. He speaks excitedly while looking into his partner’s eyes inquisitively. He lives in a two-bedroom apartment of an old house on a quiet street in the historical center of Odessa. There is a collection of embroidery with flower patterns on the walls in the bigger room – this is the hobby of Arnold’s wife Nathalia Yakovlevna, a sweet short woman. The apartment is modestly furnished. There are lace covers on the floor lamp, table and shelves, which make for a cozy old-fashioned atmosphere. The small room where we had our first interview serves as a study. There are piles of manuscript folders with newspaper and magazine press clippings, document files and video cassettes. There are many books in the house. The spouses are very friendly and amiable. Though Arnold is a very busy man, he willingly agreed to talk to me.


Interview details

Interviewee: Arnold Fabrikant
Interviewer: Nathalia Rezanova
Time of interview: March 2004
Place: Odessa, Ukraine



My family background

My maternal grandfather, Arnold Bluvstein, was born somewhere in Austria in the 1860s. He got a legal education in Vienna, and a corn merchant millionaire, a Greek by the name of Anatra, brought him to Odessa in the 1880s. My grandfather worked as a legal adviser for him at his mill. Anatra valued my grandfather so much that when pogroms happened in Odessa, he provided security to guard his home and family. In 1900 grandfather Arnold, his wife Gitlia and two daughters rented a four- bedroom apartment on Kniazheskaya Street. I am now living in two rooms of this very same apartment.

My grandparents were wealthy, but lost everything after the October Revolution [see Russian Revolution of 1917] [1]. My grandfather was ill and bound to bed when revolutionary navies came to his home and took away everything of value. Miraculously of all family jewelry a golden brooch in the form of a safety pin with a square head with a few small diamonds in it remained with them. This was my mother’s favorite and only piece of jewelry. Grandfather Arnold died in 1920, before I was born. He was buried in the Jewish cemetery.

My maternal grandmother, Gitlia Bluvstein, nee Kaplanskaya was born in Odessa in the 1860s. She had two brothers, Grigoriy and Yakov. Grigoriy Kaplanskiy, the older brother, was a popular lung-doctor. Before the Revolution he lived in Switzerland and they said he owned a health center there. He dealt in politics and came to Russia to ‘do the revolution’. He didn’t have a family. In the Soviet times Grigoriy was chief doctor in a town hospital in Odessa. He died in the middle of the 1930s. The other brother, Yakov Kaplanskiy, was born and lived in Odessa. He was an accountant. His wife Maria Kaplanskaya [nee Podrayskaya] was a professor at Odessa Conservatory. They had a son named Tolia. Yakov Kaplanskiy died in Odessa in the middle of the 1950s.

My grandmother told me that there were servants in the house, and during the Revolution a revolutionary navy was visiting their cook who was sleeping on the entresol. He had grenades and guns all over his body. He stayed with the cook overnight and everybody feared that those grenades would explode.

I remember my grandmother as a very thin and quiet woman, always busy with the housework. She cooked delicious food. I don’t know where Grandmother Gitlia studied, but she had some education. She sometimes spoke Yiddish to my mother and she also knew Russian. I cannot say how religious Grandmother Gitlia was, but she always thoroughly prepared for Pesach and had special crockery for the holiday. She served festive food and bought matzah. She didn’t go to the synagogue often. Once, when I was small, my grandmother took me to the synagogue to show me the place. My grandmother was very ill and we looked after her for many years. She died in 1939 and was buried near her husband. I don’t know whether the Jewish ritual was observed. My grandparents had two daughters: Klara and Bronislava. Klara, the older one, died young before the Revolution, and Bronislava survived.

My mother, Bronislava Fabrikant, nee Bluvstein, was born in Odessa in 1896. After her parents had lost their older daughter they directed their attention on my mother. My mother finished a private grammar school. She loved theater since her childhood. The family often went to the opera and my mother, having a rather good voice, used to sing opera arias at home. In 1921 she entered Odessa Medical College, and in 1922 she got married.

My paternal grandfather, Naum Fabrikant, was born in the 1860s in Pinsk [today Belarus]. He received an elementary education. In the early 20th century my grandfather and his big family moved to the town of Voznesensk in Nikolaev region. He was a tailor and started his own business. The family legend says that he got the surname of Fabrikant, when he opened a garment store. Besides, my grandfather owned a wedding hall that he let on lease. I never met my grandfather Naum and that’s all I know about him. My paternal grandmother Shifra Fabrikant – I don’t know her maiden name – was a seamstress in the garment shop. My grandfather and grandmother died in Voznesensk before the Great Patriotic War [2]. They had five children: three daughters and two sons, all born in Voznesensk.

My father’s older brother, Shmilik, was born in 1888. He worked as a tailor in the family shop. In the early 1930s he arrived in Odessa and lived with us for some time before he married a woman named Genia. They received an apartment on Bariatievskiy Lane. Shmilik was a high-class fitter. He and his wife worked in the Odessa garment factory named after Vorovskiy [3]. They had no children. They failed to evacuate during the Great Patriotic War. Shmilik was an invalid and was not subject to army service. Their neighbors told us after the war that when at the beginning of the occupation Soviet counterintelligence blasted the building of the commandant’s office on Marazliyeskaya Street, Romanians issued an order to execute civilians for perished Romanian soldiers. They captured anyone they saw, regardless of nationality and hung them. Shmilik and Genia were among the captured and hanged.

My father’s sister Klara was born in 1900. In her youth, Klara moved to Odessa. She married Grigoriy Gorodetskiy, a Jew. He was an accountant. In 1922 their daughter Nina was born. During the war the family evacuated to Central Asia and then returned to Odessa. Klara’s husband passed away shortly after the war. Aunt Klara worked as administrator in the ‘Krasnaya’ [Red] hotel. My parents didn’t keep in touch with this part of the family for some reason. All I know is that Nina finished a medical college and became a doctor. Aunt Klara died in Odessa in 1960 and was buried in the Jewish cemetery.

My father’s sister Yekaterina was born in 1906. After she finished school my father brought her to Odessa. She lived in our family till she married Nathan Slepoy, a Jew. Her husband was a militia officer in Vapnyarka [near Odessa]. Their son Vilia was born in 1932 and their daughter Sveta [Svetlana] in 1936. Shortly before the war Nathan got a transfer to the Regional Prosecutor’s office, and the family moved to Odessa. I remember that he had additional earnings by lecturing on espionage at enterprises. He had lots of brochures on this subject that I liked looking through. Aunt Yekaterina was a housewife. During the Great Patriotic War the family evacuated to Tashkent where Nathan had a high-level position as Prosecutor of the Republic. Upon their return to Odessa he was appointed chief of the investigation department of the Regional Prosecutor’s office.

Vilia was fond of sports and finished the Faculty of Physical Education of Odessa Pedagogical College. He worked as a teacher of physical education at the medical school. He got married and had a son. Sveta finished a medical college and became an obstetrician. She got married and had a son. Nathan Slepoy died in 1980. In 1982 my aunt Yekaterina, her children and their families moved to Australia. She died in Melbourne in 2000. Her children and grandchildren are in business. They have their own houses. We correspond with them.

My father’s sister Yevgenia was born in 1902. She married Yakov Bogomolskiy, a Jew. He was a cobbler and she was a housewife. Their daughter Nina was born in 1922. During the war the family evacuated to Tashkent and after the war they returned to Odessa. Nina graduated from the Philological Faculty of Odessa University and married Yefim Patlazhan. They had a daughter named Lena. Upon graduation from the Historical Faculty of Odessa University he defended his candidate of sciences dissertation and then a doctor’s one [see Soviet/Russian doctorate degrees] [4], and was appointed chief of department in the Ivano-Frankovsk Pedagogical College. Nina worked there as a school teacher. Aunt Yevgenia and her husband moved to their daughter in Ivano- Frankovsk. She died there in 1990. Nina’s daughter Lena and her husband moved to Germany in the late 1990s.

My father, Yefim Fabrikant, was born in Voznesensk in 1892. He studied in a grammar school. During World War I he was mobilized to the army where he was a hospital attendant. After the Revolution he joined the Red Army. He was doing well there and they sent him to study at Odessa Medical College. My father was lip-tight and didn’t like to discuss his feelings, not even with the family, particularly regarding his past. All I know is that after finishing college my father stayed to work at the department with a popular Odessa physician, Buchstub. My father was his favorite student. When he was a student, my father was renting a room in my mother’s parents’ apartment, and that’s where he met my mother.

My parents had their civil marriage in 1922 and lived with grandmother Gitlia. I was born in Odessa on 1st January 1923. When I was small, my father’s sister Yekaterina, who was living with us at the time, was my nanny. Later I was taken to a teacher of the Froebel Institute [5], who lived a block away from our house. She taught me and a few other children music. There was nothing interesting about it and we could hardly endure it.

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Growing up

I learned to read before I started school in 1931. My parents consulted their acquaintances for a long time till they chose the best school #37 [6], though it was not that close to where we lived, on 24 Korolenko Street. My parents gave me money to buy tickets for transportation, but keeping it a secret from them I instead sat on a buffer of tram #1 that almost took me to school. I was doing well at school, though I didn’t have all excellent marks. I had many friends. We, boys, were fond of [James] Fenimore Cooper [(1789-1851): American novelist] and Alexandre Dumas [(1802-1870): French novelist and dramatist], and we played characters from their books. We had our coats of arms, swords and tomahawks and fought like musketeers and Indians. There were groups of children in each district. It happened so, that in my groups there were professors’ children: Nadia Mayevskaya, Alla Gurchenko, Seryozha Avksentiev, I also had another friend: Anatoliy Irbin, a very smart guy. He moved to Kiev after finishing the 7th grade.

We didn’t like some teachers, for example, Ksenia Ivanovna, nicknamed ‘Ksendza’. We played ugly tricks on her as best we could. On the other hand, our physics teacher Anatoliy, whose patronymic I don’t remember, was a very good man, on the contrary. We all looked for tricky questions in popular magazines to ask him. When he didn’t know the answer, he said, ‘Kids, I don’t know, I shall look it up at home and explain it next time.’ He did give us an explanation, but we already had another bunch of questions ready for him. However, we knew physics brilliantly.

We had an interesting Ukrainian teacher, a gorgeous big man with a round head. He translated Beranger [Beranger, Pierre Jean de (1780-1857): French poet] into Ukrainian and used to recite these poems to us in our classes, and at the end of each class he promptly gave us the homework. In the next class he asked us for ten minutes and then started reciting poems again.

We liked our geography teacher, Yelizaveta Konstantinovna Dikoina, so much that our whole class went to her birthday parties – 25 of us. We kept this tradition even after she went to lecture at university. After she died we visited her children. There are few of us left. This year only seven of us were there.

We hated the German language and didn’t know it at all. Our teacher was a short German man who murmured something through his nose. Our teacher of mathematics was Pavel Ivanovich, an invalid of World War I: he had lost his leg, was short and old with a moustache yellow from smoking. He got angry with poor pupils and knocked on the table with his stick, exclaiming, ‘You, dummy, you know nothing!’ There were no demonstrations of anti-Semitism at school.

My mother worked as a cardiologist in two recreation centers in Odessa: Chkalov and one by the NKVD [7] named after Dzerzhinsky [8]. There we got a room for the whole summer at the seashore and we lived by the sea. I remember my mother always complaining that she was made to provide political information for nurses and attendants in the centers. She learned the history of the All-Union Communist Party of the Bolsheviks [since 1952 Communist Party of the Soviet Union] in the evening, read newspapers and made notes. Since my mother had a very serious attitude toward her work, she had very little free time left. My mother loved to have guests. She sang well and had a pleasant voice. She knew all arias from ‘Eugene Onegin’ [opera by Tchaikovsky, based on Pushkin’s novel of the same name]. My parents had friends – representatives of the medical professorship of various nationalities. My father sometimes did private practice: he received patients at recommendations of his friends.

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During the War

The arrests of 1937 [during the so-called Great Terror] [9] had no impact on my parents. They never discussed this subject with me. None of their acquaintances suffered either. Two families were arrested in our house. In 1938 Strazhesko, the greatest physician at the time invited my father to Kiev. In Kiev my father was awarded the title of professor. My mother and I stayed in Odessa, but I often visited my father in Kiev. We exchanged two rooms of the existing four rooms for Kiev so that my father had a place to live there. My father’s friend in Kiev was another notable professor whose name I don’t remember. He was arrested all of a sudden. My father went to the inquest body to give his guarantee that this professor was innocent. And strangely enough, they listened to him, and released his friend. My father and I visited him shortly afterward. This professor, a philatelist, gave me an album with stamps and I contracted from him the passion for collecting stamps for the rest of my life.

During any military campaign initiated in the USSR, my father was immediately taken to the army. He took part in the operations for the annexation of Western Belarus and Western Ukraine [see Annexation of Eastern Poland] [10], and Moldova [11] to the USSR and took part in the Finnish War [12]. He was in the rank of colonel and had the position of chief physician of the army.

On 18th June 1941 we had a prom at school, and on 22nd June I was supposed to go to Kiev to enter a college. There were disputes in the family: I wanted to study script writing since I had liked writing in my childhood, and attended a literature club in the House of Pioneers [also see All-Union pioneer organization] [13], while my parents thought this was no good and wanted me to become an engineer. They chose Kiev Aviation College for me. My train was to depart in the evening, but my father called at 6 in the morning. We were the only family with a telephone: there were only few telephones at that time. All my father said was: ‘Don’t send Nolia [affectionate for Arnold] away. I cannot tell you why. Let him give back his ticket and stay at home.’ At 10 o’clock in the morning I went to return my ticket to the railroad cashier box on Karl Marx Street. When I left, I saw a crowd gathering around a street radio. I stopped and listened to Molotov’s [14] speech about the beginning of the Great Patriotic War.

My father was mobilized on the very first day of war. He was in the army troops defending Kiev. They were retreating to the town of Pyryatin where the headquarters of the Western Front got in encirclement and its commander perished. The survivors, including my father, found shelter in a deep ravine, but the Germans discovered and encircled them too. My father and a few other officers shot themselves to escape captivity. The witnesses, doctors, who had been captured then, told my mother and me about it. The Germans made them work for them as doctors and they managed to survive. We received a notification that my father ‘was missing’. I have no official confirmation of my father’s death. After the war and later I made inquiries at the Department of Medicine in Moscow, but they responded that Yefim Fabrikant ‘was missing’ and that they had no further information about him.

The recreation center where my mother worked was modified into a hospital on the first days of the war and my mother was staying there day and night. I went to excavate trenches, reinforce the basements, and glued paper strips on the windows to prevent glass from breaking during air raids. There were actually no air raids, but there were tracer bullets flying at night. Sometimes I went to see Nadia Mayevskaya who was my friend then. We went out on the balcony and saw flak cannons shooting.

On 3rd July the guys I knew began to receive subpoenas to the army. I also received one. On 22nd July, the day of the first bombing of Odessa, we, recruits, were gathered in a port club, lined up in columns at about 4pm and marched to the port. Our parents were seeing us off. I took with me what was included in the list of the military office: a spoon, a pot, a pair of underwear, a towel, soap and a toothbrush. I also had a few books on military subjects that I had bought on the first days of the war in a bookstore on Deribasovskaya Street. As it turned out later, they were for at least an army commander or commander of a division, and I threw them away.

In the port we boarded the ‘Fabritsius’ ship, which remained in the port till 8 in the evening. There was the ‘Profintern’ cruiser nearby that was supposed to escort ships from Odessa. All of a sudden German bombers began to drop bombs around us. I remember no particular fear. We just watched as it was happening. We saw bombs exploding on Primorskiy Boulevard. It happened so that I saw a bomb hitting the house of my future wife Nathalia Yampolskaya on 7 Gogol Street. Her father was at work and she and her mother were visiting their friends who were ill, but her mother’s sister Mila and their housemaid were in the apartment at the time and perished. All their belongings were destroyed by fire. Natasha’s father worked in the regional health department where they were provided with a few white robes, some hospital sheets and tickets for evacuation since they had nowhere to live.

The ‘Fabritsius’ with probably 200 of us aboard reached Kherson in one night. In Kherson we boarded another ship, a small one, and sailed up the Dnieper at night anchoring at daytime to not reveal our whereabouts. We had patriotic spirits: we were to fight and struggle. We reached Dnepropetrovsk where I was enlisted in the 56th artillery equestrian regiment. We got washed, changed into uniforms, packed our civilian clothes into rucksacks and handed them in for storage, and they told us, ‘When it’s time for you to demobilize, you will get them back’. They gave us scrapers and we went to clean horses. It was fearful – a mare kicking with her hind legs – I was afraid of getting closer. Our first sergeant was an uneducated man – one could tell he came from a village. We lined up in the evening and he said, ‘I don’t care that you have education! You will wash the mares’ tails!’ For several days we were cleaning the stables, and unloading barges in the port. Then we were sent to excavate trenches and tank ditches. Finally, though they had never trained us to shoot with rifles, they gave us rifles and sent us to the trenches in the direction of Dnepropetrovsk.

We never saw one German military in those trenches. We heard machine gun shooting, and bullets whining, and we looked out of the trenches, but didn’t see anybody. We were ordered, ‘Shoot there!’ and we were shooting there. It hardly made any sense, all of this. Some and I saw this with my own eyes, attached a white towel to their bayonets and ran across the field to surrender! Our commanding officer told us they were deserters and we had to shoot them, but nobody was shooting at them. We were young boys, we didn’t understand anything and besides, nobody had trained us how to shoot.

On 20th August we were gathered and ordered to march across Dnepropetrovsk to the rear. We marched throughout the night and in the morning we came to a forest. We didn’t get any food or water during our march. There was a corn-field nearby. We baked corn and this was our food. Our officers, and we sensed this, didn’t know what to do. At night we were ordered to get ready to leave. When we had gone quite far away, we saw that our camp was bombed: Germans somehow got to know that we had been there. We were retreating. At Lozovaya station we boarded a freight train heading south.

In Mariupol we were allowed to get off the train to exercise a little. We received a package of rationed food for the first time, and it was rather strange: herring and pork fat and this was all, no bread. At the railway station I met an acquaintance from Odessa. He said my mother was there in a train, but I didn’t have time to go look for her. I was glad to know she had been able to evacuate. My mother and I had made an agreement back in Odessa that I would write to her acquaintance in Zlatoust in the Ural who would resend my letters to my mother.

I received the first letter from my mother this way at the end of December 1941. She wrote that she had left with her Uncle Yakov Kaplanskiy’s family. When professors of the conservatory were to evacuate his wife Maria obtained a ticket for my mother and for aunt Bella, the former wife of my mother’s cousin brother Roman Bluvstein, at my mother’s request. He had left his wife before the war, and my mother, who liked Bella, decided to take care of her. Bella lived in our apartment and, naturally, my mother couldn’t leave her behind. Roman stayed in Odessa and perished during the occupation of Odessa. My mother, Bella and Yakov’s family lived in the town of Dzhalal-Abad, Kyrgyzstan, for some time. My mother went to work in a hospital. Uncle Yakov’s family moved to Tashkent, as his wife got a job offer from the conservatory in Tashkent. Their son Tolia finished a tank school in Tashkent, went to the front and perished.

My military train arrived in the village of Abinskaya [town of Abinsk, Russia, since 1963]. We were accommodated on the football field of the stadium. There we were acquainted with Stalin’s order to recall young men with secondary and incomplete higher education to send them to officers’ schools. We were sorted out and I happened to be in the group that was sent to the town of Piatigorsk where the 68th separate Navy shooting brigade was being formed. I was enlisted in a mortar unit of a bombardment company of 50-mm mortars. This mortar has the shape of a big frog. It couldn’t be disassembled, it was to be carried on the shoulder and it weighed twelve kilos. We also had to carry boxes with mines – eight mines weighing 800 grams each in one box. Our commanding officer was also carrying boxes with mines; we all did. Our unit consisted of five people: the commanding officer, three mine deliverers and a gun layer. I happened to be a gun layer. We began to learn the mortar discipline. The company deployed at the Mashu?k Mountain. [Editor’s note: the Mashuck is a rather low mountain (993 m) near Pyatigorsk. It is known in Russian history as the place of the duel and death of the great poet Lermontov [15].] Winter started and we began to learn how to ski. We skied up to the hill where Lermontov had had a duel. Then we either skied, if we managed, or rolled down the hill.

In late December 1941 our brigade was sent to Rostov. There were 50 percent experienced navies there and the rest were inexperienced youngsters like me. The officers were former sailors. The commanding officer of the brigade was a submariner, who had only a vague idea about land operations. He didn’t even care to train us to entrench and we had many problems due to this later on. At Bataysk station near Rostov, where our train stopped, somebody got to know that there was an echelon with spirit nearby. We took canvas buckets from which we gave water to the horses to get spirit that we drank. This happened to be poisonous technical spirit and many died from poisoning. I didn’t drink at that time, and this saved my life. We went patrolling in Rostov, guarded the general staff of the regiment and dug trenches near Rostov.

We were in reserve of the 56th army till March 1942, when we were ordered to re-deploy. We marched at night, slept in stables or sheds or just on manure since it was warm. We reached the village of Kolesnikovo on the banks of the Mius River, 12-15 meters wide, but rather deep, up to 8-9 meters. It was covered with ice at the time. There were flood- lands in spring and farther there were hills where the Germans were in trenches. There was Hill 101 in front of us, the highest and the most important one, shielding the direction to Donbass [Donetsk].

The commander of the Southern Front, Budyonnyi, decided to make the Soviet people happy before 8th March, Women’s Day. There was a tradition to have accomplishments coincide with holidays before the war, and they transferred this practice on military actions without giving it a second thought. They decided to attack and capture this Hill 101 on 1st March, the town of Matveyev Kurgan, Taganrog and approach the German grouping from the rear, from the sea. On 7th March we were ordered to start the attack. The artillery failed to catch up with us and there was no artillery preparation. We crossed the Mius River over the ice before dawn, came onto a field and began to move ahead slowly in a chain. The first was the infantry line, rifling units followed and our company with mortars was moving about 200 meters behind. We were about 400 meters from the slope of the hill, when the Germans started shooting. They hadn’t seen us before since it was still dark. We didn’t wear camouflage: officers wore sheepskin jackets, soldiers had their overcoats on and sailors in their black overcoats made perfect targets on the field covered with snow. Like many others I didn’t have high boots, but ankle-high boots with leg-wrappings. The Germans fired mines at us and then started firing from machine guns. Later I got to know that in this battle the average density of rifle-machine gun firing was 10 bullets per each linear meter of the front line per minute. So we were moving through this wall of firing.

There was a small village – just a few houses at the bottom of the hill. We identified a machine gun nest and cannon by the houses and eliminated it with mortars. When we began to climb the hill, a sanitary instructor and two attendants were walking beside me. The attendants were taking the wounded down the hill. The sanitary instructor was wounded, and the commanding officer of my company ordered me to take his bag. At this instant a splinter of a shell hit my mortar and damaged it. The commanding officer ordered me to drop it and apply bandages on the wounded. There were many wounded, so I applied bandages while they were also helping each other. We managed to almost climb to the top, to the German communication passages. In a trench nearby a mine exploded and the splinters wounded my legs. The blood was coming through my leg wrappings. They applied a bandage and evacuated me down the hill to the houses. We were waiting for wagons from the sanitary company there. The Germans trapped us in mortar firing. I was shell-shocked. I started bleeding from my ears, nose, throat, and my teeth came loose. I almost fainted, but I survived. We were taken to the medical company on horse- drawn wagons. From there I was sent to a hospital in Rostov.

While in hospital I got to know that our troops failed to capture Hill 101 since the Germans used tanks and planes in their defense. Over half of the staff of our brigade perished then. There were 4,400 of us, and only about 2,000 survived. I stayed in hospital for a long time. I had blood transfusions and salt solution injections since I had lost a lot of blood. I was staying in bed and there were two rubber tubes with syringes on the ends through which the medication was injected into my legs, and they got swollen. I had a big problem with my teeth: my front teeth were loose and I had some metal splints installed to strengthen the gum, but the effect was very poor – my gum began to bleed and they had to remove the splints and my teeth never got stronger. When I got better, something happened due to which I almost got to the tribunal. The thing is there was a radio plate hanging right above me and it was always turned on. The noise drove me nuts. On the first day, when I managed to get out of bed, I just grabbed it and took it off the wall. The political officer came by and considered what I had done as a harmful and political act. I hardly managed to get rid of him.

When I recovered I rejoined my brigade. This happened in late April 1942, it was already warm. On my way I stayed overnight at some trans- shipment point. There were tents on a hill and two U2 planes nearby. There were girls from the medical battalion of our brigade in the tents. They were singing, ‘Sweetheart, will you hear me,’ with such lament that this song is imprinted in my memory. After the war I was trying to ask the women from our brigade at our veterans’ meetings: Who sang this song then? But I never found those girls. Finally I got to my battalion and from there I was sent to be first sergeant in the battery of 120mm mortars. I got an intelligence unit in my command and received a stereo telescope. I was to sit at the observation point looking for targets and reporting to the commanding officer, who identified the coordinates, range, angle and other data. I had a stereo telescope throughout the war; when one broke down in a battle I got a new one.

We happened to be in defense at this same Hill 101, but behind the hill there was some smoke appearing every day. We discovered that this smoke was shooting. It turned out that the Germans were sending an armor train from Taganrog and it was firing periodically. We fixed it finally and covered it with our firing and it didn’t reappear. In general it was quiet and the Germans left us alone. We lived in earth huts. There was no wood and we thought of heating the huts in the following way: we took a brick soaked in gasoline, burned it in an iron cast pot and it burned for a while heating the hut. We lit the earth hut with a makeshift lamp from flattened out shells. We made a hole on the side to pour in kerosene. We inserted a piece of cloth torn off our overcoats to serve as a wick in its narrow part. These lamps emitted lots of smoke, but served their purpose.

We were fed well: millet porridge, sometimes we got meat, and 150 grams of vodka every night, officially, but it was always more actually. It was believed to be a normal thing to cheat on the rear unit. Every day it was necessary to submit a report for meals for a specific number of people, because sometimes the deceased remained on the lists and their food rations were received and shared among the others. Officers received additional food rations. I was first lieutenant and received cookies, sugar and tobacco additionally.

Soldiers were given makhorka tobacco. We made ‘goat leg’ cigarettes from newspapers pieces. There weren’t many matches and we lit cigarettes with fire steel. We borrowed cotton wool and manganese from nurses, absorbed cotton wool in manganese solution and dried it out. When a piece of such cotton wool was placed on the fire steel, the sparkle lit it instantly and then we lit cigarettes from it. At first I didn’t drink or smoke and used to exchange my vodka for sugar, but I was freezing in the trench. The others smoked and had a drink and seemed to feel better. So I also began to drink my ration of vodka and smoke, and it became easier to endure the damp trench, but it was still cold.

We had warm flannel underwear: a shirt and underpants and a uniform shirt and trousers over them. We wore sailor caps at first, but later we got winter hats and wore knitted headpieces underneath. We also had sheepskin liners to wear underneath our winter coats; they warmed us well. The boots with leg-wrappings that I wore till 1943 didn’t help against the cold. Those wrappings were a problem to me. You drop the end of a two-meter long belt, it rolls away and you have to crawl around looking for it and then roll it up again – a terrible nuisance. In our pastime everybody told stories. Older soldiers told fables of their frontline love adventures. Everybody boasted as much as he could. We often read letters from home aloud – everybody was interested what was going on in the rear.

When the Germans forced a crossing over the Don River and approached Stalingrad, we got the order to retreat in the direction of Rostov. We had to cover about 60-80 kilometers. The Germans were following us. A few kilometers away trenches had been dug for us and we had hardly managed to get there, when German tanks started to attack us. All of a sudden a pack of dogs with triton blocks attached to their backs ran past us. There was a starting lever sticking from their belts – they hitched the bottom of a tank to this lever and the tank exploded. Of 40 tanks 30 exploded, and the rest of them left. It turned out that there was a company of tank fighters behind us. The female trainers fed their dogs only under an operating tank and developed a trained reflex in them. We felt sorry for the animals, but what could be done about it, at least the attack was repelled.

When we came to Rostov to cross the Don, I saw an incredible scenario: vehicles, horses, wagons, tractors, combines, people, and cattle were moving along two crossing ways continuously bombed by Germans. They didn’t just drop bombs, but shot through empty barrels whining so loudly that each barrel seemed to be falling on you. You press yourself to the earth to hide away, hear something falling nearby and wait for an explosion, but nothing happens. The main crossing was on a pontoon bridge. Everybody stepping on it began to run fast. There were bombs exploding on the right and on the left, raising fountains of water; some people fell into the water – a terrible sight. Somehow we managed to do the crossing.

On the opposite bank, walking a few kilometers in the direction of Bataysk, we took a defense position. My observation point was on the roof of a house in the nearest village. I was doing observation of the locality and at dawn I saw Germans marching in a row in a ravine from Bataysk. I reported to my commander of the battery about this and he reported to higher officers. At this time the Germans bumped into our outposts and exchange of fire began. Half an hour later a group of Germans on ten motorcycles arrived. There were two machine guns on each motorcycle. Our resistance didn’t make sense any longer and we were ordered to retreat. Where to? The only possibility was to head to the flood-lands, and there were reeds, sedge and waist deep water. I was making my way through the reeds with my stereo telescope. All of a sudden I felt something hitting my arm. I dropped the telescope and somebody picked it. There was blood all over my hand; the bullet injured a tendon between my big thumb and forefinger. It was a trifling wound and under different circumstances I wouldn’t have needed to go to hospital, but I had it bandaged in the water, probably with dirty bandages that caused festering. I had a lot of trouble with it for about a month and a half. We were retreating. Finally, I was sent to a hospital near Tbilisi [today Georgia]. They promptly treated my hand and from there they sent me to an artillery instrumental intelligence school in the town of Manglisi near Tbilisi.

This was a division of the Makhachkala town military infantry school training geodesists and survey engineers, i.e., those who could picture a location layout with theodolite and find orientation with the help of a stereo telescope. When I finished it in the middle of September 1943 I was sent to the front line in the 55th guard division, 66th guard rifling regiment under the command of Glavatskiy from Odessa. Our division was to head to the Taman peninsula [Western Caucasus between the Azov and Black Seas] to the Strait of Kerch [connecting the Black and Azov Seas]. There are many lakes, swamps, reeds and canals there. The firth Kyzyltysh [one of the numerous firths of the Azov Sea] was separated from the sea by a split where we were to land to cut a retreat for Germans. We landed successfully; the Germans didn’t notice us and began to retreat along the split, when they bumped into us. During a battle something went wrong with the radio holding communications with the army headquarters. Then a plane dropped a message from the commander of the army, Petrov, for us: ‘We don’t know where you are. Make an identification sign on your front line.’ We made a line from pieces of white cloth, whatever we had at hand, to show them the location we were at. We held the Germans back and stayed there quietly till late October.

On 4th November we were put ashore across from Chushka, a split at the end of the Taman peninsula; this area was called Malaya Zemlia. I stayed with the artillery on the main land. I began to send data about the targets and did it well. I don’t know how I did it: we had learned calculations, but here intuition was more important. Our troops captured a part of the Kerch peninsula, but the Germans had a well fortified defense line and they stopped us after we had covered about twelve kilometers of the Kerch peninsula. Despite this we were in good spirits probably thanks to political work. There was a political officer in each company whose only mission was to trigger discussions telling us what we were to do and how, what we were fighting for and whom we were fighting – this wasn’t a mere formality and it had its effect on soldiers, lifting their spirits and uniting them. We went into battles with the words ‘For Stalin, for the motherland, straight on!’ Of course, there were deserters. Once, when we were remanning, our brigade was ordered to line up in a U-order and two individuals were demonstratively shot for desertion. Once, additional staff of Azerbaijani arrived. They didn’t know Russian and didn’t want to fight whatsoever. They ate some herb on purpose, it caused diarrhea, and it was terrible and everybody wanted to get rid of them. They were sent to a medical sanitary battalion and I don’t know what happened to them then. They never returned to us.

I took part in a landing operation. On the evening of 9th January we went into the Azov Sea. We had the so-called anti-yperit high boots. At night, all of a sudden a storm broke and our boats, long boats and schooners were scattered all around. Half of the landing troop disappeared, some drowned and some were dragged into the sea; they were found two weeks later. I fell into the water, my stereo telescope got wet and I got wet in the chest-deep water, the temperature of which was only four or five degrees. What saved us was that the seashore wasn’t far away and the water was shallow. When I reached the seashore, the commanding officer yelled, ‘Drop your stereo telescope, grab a machine gun – there are Germans moving along the shore, we have nobody to shoot back at them!’ I grabbed a machine gun and joined the others. We managed to repel the attack. In this battle Nadia Leschina, Glavatskiy’s wife, who served there with us, demonstrated heroism. Mariners were fighting with us and Germans sent tanks to where they were, and the mariners began to retreat. Nadia all of a sudden got to her feet and shouted, ‘Guys, follow me! Go ahead!’ The mariners felt ashamed that they got scared and the woman was not and they repelled this tank attack. For this battle Nadia was awarded an Order of the Combat Red Banner [16].

In those days I was thinking of joining the Party. I talked to Zakharov, the Party leader of our regiment. He talked me out of it, ‘If you join the Party, they will send you to the hottest spot and you will perish for nothing. You are important for us and we need you to be here with us rather than somebody else.’ Our division moved to the village of Varenikovskaya to relocate to a different front. There were many troops, tents, cannons, and lots of people taken to this railroad junction. All of a sudden somebody noticed a hare running from God knows where. Everybody went after this hare trying to throw an overcoat onto him. The hare escaped. It was a lot of fun, especially when an army newspaper wrote that the glorious 55th guard rifling division failed to catch a single hare.

Then we fought at the 1st Belarusian Front. I participated in the famous Bagration operation. [Editor’s note: Belarus operation of the Soviet army in the summer of 1944. The invasion force consisted of 1,700,000 troops supported by 6,000 planes, nearly 3,000 tanks, and 24,000 artillery pieces. This attack cost the Germans more men and material than the defeat at Stalingrad.] Then we came to Brest and moved onto the territory of Poland. After Warsaw was taken, the advance was suspended. That was when I thought: We are advancing the war is coming to an end, it’s time to think about peaceful life. During the war I actively corresponded with girls like everybody else. We often received letters at the front from girls, with photographs in them: ‘I would like to meet a young soldier.’ The girls didn’t know any name and address at first, of course. All the action was organized by the military. I had a whole collection of photographs of different girls signed on the backside: ‘May this still-imprint remind you of a living soul,’ or ‘don’t think about me, when you look at the photo, but think – and then look!’ There was one girl from the Far East, but this wasn’t what I was thinking about. I wrote to the girl in Odessa whom I liked, but there was no response.

From Poland we returned to Belarus and then moved to Lithuania. Our division was one of the first to cross the border of Prussia and come to German land. [Eastern Prussia was bordering with Lithuania before the war. After the annexation of the Baltic States (1940) it became a German- Soviet border. After the war Eastern Prussia was divided up in between the Soviet Union and Poland.] At the border, there was a post with a sign reading ‘Here it is – the fascist Germany!’ Of course, that Europe was radically different from where we came from. I compared the houses in Prussia with the ones we had seen in Belarus. I even took a picture of one house in Prussia, so well-designed it was. When we entered Germany, we were allowed to send trophies home. Everybody looked for something to send home. I sent my mother a gown, fabric, some pieces of cloth. There were many abandoned houses. Our soldiers were particularly eager to get watches. Sometimes they would stop a German man asking, ‘Uhr, Uhr [German for ‘watch’] take it off!’ I had about 16 watches. There was a popular saying: ‘let’s make an exchange without looking!’ to swap watches. The watches were a kind of luxury in the USSR. Some didn’t care about trophies and others were greedy – one could tell what people were like.

During the war relations between people were the same as in peaceful times. If a person was bad, he was not liked. We sensed what a bad commander was like when somebody named Alexandrov replaced our commanding officer, Glavatskiy. Everything changed in the regiment. Alexandrov had stayed in the rear forming marching companies, but at the end of the war there was no more need in doing this and he was appointed regiment commanding officer. He came to Prussia with his wife, but he turned out to be such a womanizer that he had several lovers. His wife made a scandal every day. We were allowed to lodge in apartments and my orderly found me one about one and a half kilometers from where our military unit was deployed. All of a sudden there was alarm every night. This Alexandrov had nothing to do in the evenings after the scandals with his wife, but raise alarms. Every night I had to jump out of my bed to run to the unit – this was painful! Everybody cursed him, and I still recall him with disgust.

At about the same time a woman doctor came to our regiment. Her name was Valia; I don’t remember her surname. We all recall her with warmth. She was a dentist technician. She was a big fat woman. There were no trousers of her size, so she wore a long skirt. She had many patients, but no anesthetics. For anesthetization she would lie down on the patient with her big bust – this was her method. For a long time, and this made her different from other women, looking for men at the front, Valia was alone. Then she finally fell in love with the battalion commanding officer Petrus. One night they were making love in an earth hut and she began to groan loudly. The Germans heard it and started firing. This was the front line. Later there was an investigation: ‘Who screamed? Why?’ But we didn’t give her away and the case was eventually dismissed.

In 1944 I got a letter from my mother from Odessa. She had returned home, but there were other people staying in our apartment. Before she managed to have them move out by a court’s decision she lived in a small storeroom in the conservatory that Maria Podrayskaya helped her with. Then one room became available in our apartment and my mother moved in there. Everything was gone – our mahogany furniture, my grandfather’s pieces, valuables. My mother only discovered a copper mortar and a bookshelf at our neighbors’. She bought a black plastic upholstery divan, when she received her first salary. She was assistant chief of the cardiology department of the Lermontov health center, headed by Professor Zhigalov, one of the most famous cardiologists in Odessa then.

In Eastern Prussia the Commander of the Western and 3rd Belarussian Front, Army general Ivan Cherniakhovskiy issued the only order throughout wartime: ‘Save people!’ Commanding officers were brought to trial for violation of the order for unjustified casualties. I had a good friend called Kostia Brovin, commanding officer of a rifling company, an accountant in peaceful life. A smart reserved guy, we had many common interests. A soldier from Kostia’s group of combat security disappeared. Whether Germans kidnapped him or he surrendered – nobody could tell, but he had disappeared and that was a fact, and Kostia was brought to the tribunal because he was a commander, and sent to a penal battalion. [Penal battalions were subdivisions of the Soviet Army to which people were sent for punishment during the war. They were used at the most dangerous frontlines, basically sent to certain death]. He perished in the first battle. General Cherniakhovskiy was mortally wounded in Eastern Prussia in 1945. This was the most annoying thing: to perish at the end of the war.

On 13th January 1945 we got an order to attack, when we were not ready for it whatsoever. It turned out later that the Germans beat down the ally troops in Belgium and they asked Stalin to help them. [The last significant German counter-attack took place on 5th January 1945 in the Ardennes. It was not successful and the Germans were gradually retreating afterwards.] To save the situation we were made to attack, when we didn’t have sufficient stocks of shells, when there were many wounded people and when no additional troops had been sent. It was hard to break through the German defense near Konigsberg. We couldn’t avert the artillery firing of the Germans and had many injured people. When their artillery firing began, somebody shouted in the trenches, ‘Hold on, Vanyka, it’s beginning!’

By late March 1945, after hard battles in Eastern Prussia, we were sent to the rear for remanning and we thought the war was over for us. Our echelon reached the town of Lida in Belarus. We went to sleep and in the morning, when we woke up, it turned out we were moving across Poland. What happened was that we were transferred to the 1st Ukrainian Front moving to Berlin. On 22nd April we started our first battle near Zossen – the location of the underground headquarters of Hitler’s land troops. After the battle we started looking for interesting trophies. I took a map of Berlin from the wall and I still have it.

In April we entered Potsdam and joined in the most horrible action – street fighting. I was in infantry troops since there was no artillery used in these operations, just machine guns and grenades. On 30th April 1945 we began our attack on the railway station, and this was also the Charlottenburg metro station in Berlin. This was a three-storied reinforced concrete building with big windows and doors. There was a big square in front of the building with a low steel fence with one entrance way. There was no other way and we had to send people through this small entrance, but German snipers were killing them one after the other. I requested artillery troops to somehow blacken the square with smoke and they did it. We rushed to the first floor, but couldn’t even look out of there – the Germans were shooting and throwing grenades from the second floor. Then I did my most heroic deed during wartime: I requested artillery firing to my coordinates. The artillery troops started firing to the second floor – they killed the Germans, but we survived. We went around the station – there was nobody left!

We moved on. There were connecting underground passages in Berlin through a whole block – from one corner to another. There were a few steel doors leading to the basements. I tried to open one and heard a shot. I drew back in time – somebody shot from down there. If it hadn’t been for the steel door, there would have been nothing left of me. On 1st May there was another dangerous moment. It happened in the basement of a house. When we arrived there we saw many people and then somebody fired a gun and the bullet went through my cap. We began to search people and one of them, a thin German guy, had a gun in his pocket. This was the only person throughout the war whom I was sure I killed. I also captured another soldier wearing a German uniform in this basement, but he happened to be a Vlasov [17] soldier. He was wounded and we left him in the basement till morning. In the morning we found him hanged on a beam on his own belt in a sitting position. Nobody felt sorry for him. We had a bad attitude toward Vlasov soldiers.

On 2nd May, at 12 o’clock, Berlin surrendered. The war was over for us. On this day I wrote to my mother after a long interval – since December 1944. I had thought to myself that I had survived for a long time and that I would probably be killed and that she had better get used to the thought that there was no me. So I lived through the last months of the war with this attitude, but then there was a turning point in my heart and I believed that everything would end well for me. After Berlin surrendered, our unit marched in the direction of Prague in Czechoslovakia. We were at the border of Czechoslovakia, when the war was over. At night we got to a mine field and our unit had to walk step by step to avoid the mines, when all of a sudden we heard shooting somewhere in the rear. We turned our heads and saw tracer bullets flying by. This was a sign that the war was over. This happened at midnight, on 8th May.

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Post-war

We camped near the town of Ceska Lipa. We had a quiet, peaceful life there. We had artillery training nearby, where we actually just fooled around drinking beer. It was very inexpensive. The Czechs treated us well and shared food with us. We went to a bar where they gave us a barrel of beer, we went to the field, deployed the battery and ate and drank and then we returned with an empty barrel. We were allowed to take trophies from the Germans, but there was a special order issued that forbid us to take anything from the Czechs. We were bored and organized a dancing and singing group. We had a good accordion player and dancers. I sang and was the leader of the group. We rested in this manner till late May, when we got an order to march back home across Poland. There were other units moving back home. We, infantry, hardly had any trophies with us, but the others had bicycles, vehicles and even rode in coaches. However, there were special units deployed at our border. They checked and requisitioned everything. I brought home watches and stamps: I had found a few albums with stamps and taken them. A friend of mine brought a Telefunken [German firm] radio with him.

Till spring 1946 I continued my service in Grodno in Belarus, and in April I came to Odessa on leave. A fellow comrade, who was much older than me, went on leave with me. He was so determined to get married promptly that on the first evening, when we went for a walk on the boulevard he met a girl and they got married three days later. Six months later she gave birth to a baby, but he was such a duffer that it never occurred to him that he had married a pregnant woman.

I came to Odessa to meet with my future wife Natasha Yampolskaya. We had known each other since childhood. We studied in the same school where she was a Komsomol [18] leader, only she lived in a different district. Our parents were acquainted and had friendly relations before the war. Nathalia was born in Odessa in 1920. Her father, Yevgeniy Yampolskiy, was born into the family of an inn-owner in Odessa in 1891. He studied economics in Paris. Returning to Odessa, he worked in a bank. After the revolution he worked as an accountant in an insurance office, before the war he worked in the town health department and after the war he worked in the regional health department. His sister, Yekaterina Yampolskaya, was a revolutionary: in 1918 she worked in Lenin’s secretarial office; she knew him personally. She was married to the chief editor of the Pravda newspaper [The paper of the Communist Party of the USSR]. She was arrested in 1937 as the wife of an ‘enemy of the people’ [19]. She was kept in camps for 20 years, released in 1957 and rehabilitated later [see Rehabilitation in the Soviet Union] [20]. She received an apartment in Moscow. My wife’s mother, Olga Khariton, was born in Odessa in 1896. She was a housewife.

The Yampolskiy family was in evacuation in Stavropol [today Russia] and then in Stalinabad, in Tajikistan. In evacuation Nathalia studied three years at medical college. The Yampolskiy family was miserably poor after returning from the evacuation. They were allowed to live in the medical college, in a small room near the bacteriological laboratory in which they were breeding guinea pigs and where the smell was disgusting.

After demobilization I finally returned to Odessa in September 1946. Admission to colleges was over and I entered the spirit department of the Food Industry Technical School. When I finished it Nathalia was working on her mandatory job assignment [21] in a small mining town near Voroshylovgrad. When I was a last-year student I did my practical training at the vodka factory in Voroshylovgrad. We registered our marriage on the eve of 1st May 1948 and had a ‘mayovka’ wedding out of town with her friends. [Editor’s note: The word mayovka is derived from the name of the month May when people organized picnics with family and friends. Schoolchildren, students and adults used to arrange such outings enjoying the food and drink.] We had a record player. My factory gave me ten liters of raw alcohol. We drank this alcohol, sang, danced and had lots of fun: we were young and full of hopes. Then I went back to defend my diploma and got a job assignment to the vodka factory in Odessa. Nathalia’s father, who was working in the regional health department, pulled the strings for her to get a job in Odessa.

In 1949 our daughter Yelena was born. We lived with my mother. We installed a partition in her room to make a small room for ourselves. We were poor. Nathalia had makeshift shoes with a wooden sole. I wore my military uniform overcoat. I entered the Odessa College of Food Industry. I bought my first coat and a hat, when I received money for the development of a rum production line. Here is how it happened. During the war, when there was lack of sugar in the country, Stalin issued an order to organize a new zone of sugar production in Kazakhstan. They purchased sugar canes and established selection points, but the cane didn’t grow. It only grew in one spot in the south of Uzbekistan and there were huge crops growing on about 400 hectares. They decided to process it to rum and addressed the Odessa College of Food Industry for help. I went home via Moscow where I bought a gray coat and a green hat in the GUM [abbreviation of Gosudarstvennyy Universalnyy Magazin, meaning State General Store] in Moscow. I also brought a few cuts of staple from Uzbekistan. My mother, wife and daughter had dresses made from this fabric. After finishing college I went to work in the Odessa liqueur and vodka factory.

I was quite indifferent when I heard about Stalin’s death [in 1953]. I heard the news on the radio when I went to work in the morning. I knew that he was ill and there had been announcements that he was better and then worse and it was clear that he would die. I had seen so many deaths that one more or one less didn’t matter… I wasn’t critical about Stalin, but I didn’t sympathize with him either. My mother believed in Stalin. She always kept a newspaper issued on the day of Stalin’s death, with all the praises in his address. When the denunciation of Stalin’s cult began, my mother didn’t believe it. She said, ‘How could this be?’ She was and stayed loyal to Stalin till the end of her life. The Doctors’ Plot [22] had no impact on her. My mother died in 1963. We buried her in the Jewish cemetery, next to Grandmother Gitlia.

My daughter went to school #101 in 1956. Though Yelena studied well, her teacher literally bullied her for nobody knew what reason. She was probably an anti-Semite. My wife and I were very wrong to not take our child to another school. We tried to talk to this teacher, but it didn’t help. So our daughter suffered till she went to the fourth grade where they had different teachers and the situation improved, but this had its impact on her. In 1964 after finishing school she wanted to enter medical college, but I understood that being a Jew she had no chances there. I lectured part-time at the College of Food and Refrigeration Industry and decided to somehow help her to enter it. Though they knew me well in college and the rector knew me too, they had her flunk rudely at the exam. I went to the rector and made a scandal and then Lena [Yelena] took another exam and was admitted.

Though state anti-Semitism developed during the rule of Khrushchev [23], I held this man in high respect. He could be excused for many things for his denunciation of the cult at the Twentieth Party Congress [24]. My wife and I often go to Moscow and visit her aunt Yekaterina Yampolskaya’s grave in the Novodevichie cemetery [the Moscow cemetery where many famous Russians are buried]. And every time we go there we see fresh flowers on the grave of Khrushchev. On holidays and weekdays, in summer and winter people remember that he has done good. He released so many people. It’s a different matter that he lacked education and culture.

I’ve never faced any anti-Semitism of a personal character. I am this kind of a person, who has had many friends and most of them were Russians. However, I did face it from state authorities. For example, in 1967, on the eve of the 50th anniversary of the Soviet power, the liqueur and vodka factory where I was working had to nominate two employees for the award of ‘Honored Innovator of Ukraine’. There were two nominees: I and Ivan Dymchenko, a Ukrainian man. I had more innovative developments, but he was awarded the title and everybody knew why.

By the way, women appreciated one innovative proposal I made. There was a place for washing glass containers outside and women sitting by the conveyer in winter suffered from the cold a lot. I thought ‘how do we warm them up?’ And I figured we had to warm them up from beneath. We placed heaters so that they supplied heated air under their skirts and women stopped complaining about the cold in winter. For many years I consulted the liqueur and vodka factory in Varna, Bulgaria. They requested my approval of all technical issues. I provided numerous consultations to them, but I, a Jew and not a Party member, was never invited to the cruise ship to Varna on 9th September, the day of the liberation of Varna. Not one single time! Only in 1976, after a big scandal with the officials did I manage to travel to Bulgaria for two weeks.

In the 1960s and 1970s, during the Brezhnev [25] regime, there were numerous thefts at the liqueur and vodka factory. I was chief of the steam and power maintenance department at the factory. This was a responsible position and the department was often inspected by state authorities: power inspection, records inspection, maintenance, boiler, trade union audits, and sanitary inspection. We had to bribe all inspectors. They particularly came before holidays and each of them was to be given a bottle of alcohol or there would be problems. I went to the shop superintendents asking them for bottles of alcohol. Finally the director of the factory ordered them to supply the products to me for this purpose. But those people were stealing and had cars and dachas [summer houses], whereas I received a salary of 240 rubles. For additional earnings I worked part-time at the college starting in 1965, and did extra work preparing diploma theses and course theses for students. We bought our first TV set and furniture with the extra money I made this way.

My daughter Yelena finished college in 1969 and went to work as an engineer at the Avtogenmach plant where she worked for 25 years. In 1973 Yelena married Yefim Filurov. He is a hydraulic engineer. He worked as chief designer at the design office of the Yanvarskogo Vosstaniya plant developing hydraulic systems for unique load lifting cranes. They have no children. My daughter doesn’t identify herself as a Jew. She is a believer, but she thinks that there is one God and there is one integral faith. She belongs to the Baptist community. There is a house in Odessa where she goes to pray.

In the 1980s regular meetings of veterans of the 68th Navy brigade began. In Odessa we keep in touch with Nadia Leschina who had raised the sailors in attack. In 1983 we took her to Matveyev Kurgan where Hill 101 used to be. A monument to the deceased land troopers of our brigade has been erected there. In the village of Kabardinskaya there is a museum dedicated to our brigade. We also traveled across the routes of our brigade in Lithuania and Belarus. These trips were organized by Party organs and administration of these areas as their propagandistic activities. Using the materials of these meetings and having worked with documents from archives I wrote a book about our brigade. At my request the veterans sent me their memorials. I realized there was nobody else to do this job and everything might have been forgotten. I need to give due to the Soviet times, saying that veterans were honored then. They were given awards annually on Victory Day [26] and other memorial dates.

In 1983, when I turned 60 [pension age], my colleagues in college and at the factory, relatives and veterans collected money and bought me a present: a camera and all accessories required for filmmaking. I even got angry then: who needs it? I had long forgotten the dream of my youth to become a script writer. Then I heard that the Odessa Palace of Students had formed a group of amateur filmmakers. My wife and I began to attend it. Our first experiments were successful and soon we began to shoot films regularly. We shot about 50 amateur films on different subjects: the history of Odessa, the story of our family, the Russian monuments of architecture. We were awarded prizes and diplomas at town and all-Union contests. Of course, I wouldn’t have managed to accomplish this without my wife’s help. She is a really creative person.

Nathalia worked at the department of organization of health care in the Medical College at first, but she found this job boring. She finished a course of rontgenologists and worked as a rontgenologist in the Jewish hospital, one of the oldest hospitals in town, built on the contributions of the Jewish community before the revolution, till she retired. She was a very good specialist, published her articles in the ‘Rontgenology’ magazine, but she didn’t want to defend a thesis and remained a practicing doctor.

My wife and I were friends with Tolia Irbin, my schoolmate, for many years. During the war he was in intelligence. He worked as a servant in a cathedral in Finland collecting necessary information. After the war Tolia finished Kiev Pedagogical College and worked as head of the chief publishing house of political literature. We visited him in Kiev and he came to see us in Odessa. I regularly made reports about my scientific activities in the Imont society in the house of scientists. Imont is the abbreviation for Institute of Methodology, Education, Science and Technical Equipment. Its chairman was Igor Zelinskiy, a scientist, former rector of the university, and a respectable man. We were friends with him. My wife and I took part in all events organized by this institute.

I was satisfied with the results of perestroika [27]. I personally don’t criticize Gorbachev [28]. I liked him. He was the youngest and most cultured and intelligent man of all Soviet leaders. I didn’t feel ashamed when he represented our country abroad. His wife, Raisa Maximovna, held herself with dignity. Gorbachev did a great thing. He had the courage to do what nobody would dare to do. It is my opinion that the Soviet Union should have fallen apart a long time before. In my opinion Ukraine has to be independent. This is a rich country and it can manage by itself.

In the 1990s many of our friends moved to Israel, but neither my wife and I, nor our daughter or her husband, had any desire to emigrate. Besides, my daughter’s friends wrote that they weren’t doing very well there. Many of them still feel sorry that they have moved there. I think that the state of Israel was initially organized in a wrong way. The UN made this mistake. They shouldn’t have created the state where the narrowest area is 16 kilometers wide. This strip can be fired through by a mortar. Israel was right to start fighting for land with Palestinians, because they cannot live like that.

There is no anti-Semitism, routinely or on state-level, as there used to be in the past. I know it. The Jewish life in Odessa is also very diverse. My interests are tied to the activities of Gemilut Hesed [29]. There is a ‘Front line brotherhood’ group working there and I’m part of it. My wife and I go to concerts and often show our films there. We also receive charity assistance from Gemilut Hesed: monthly parcels and 30 hrivna once every quarter for medications. But the most important thing is that we can find our spiritual interests there. Nobody in our family can speak the Yiddish language and we’ve never observed Jewish traditions or celebrated Jewish holidays. I am an atheist and believe in human intelligence. I keep shooting amateur films. My wife and I are interested in all aspects of modern life: we read a lot and have many creative plans that we hope to carry out some day.

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Glossary

[1] 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 World War I, 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.

[2] 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.

[3] Vorovskiy, Vatslav Vatslavovich (1871-1923): a Soviet Party and state activist, publicist and one of the first Soviet diplomats. Grandson of a Polish noble man, son of a successful railway engineer, Vorovskiy was an intellectual rather than a typical Soviet revolutionary. In 1915 he emigrated to Sweden and was the representative of Soviet Russia in Scandinavia. Vorovskiy was killed in Lausanne, Switzerland, by a White officer; his death caused severance of all diplomatic relations between USSR and Switzerland for 25 years.

[4] Soviet/Russian doctorate degrees: Graduate school in the Soviet Union (aspirantura, or ordinatura for medical students), which usually took about 3 years and resulted in a dissertation. Students who passed were awarded a ‘kandidat nauk’ (lit. candidate of sciences) degree. If a person wanted to proceed with his or her research, the next step would be to apply for a doctorate degree (doktarontura). To be awarded a doctorate degree, the person had to be involved in the academia, publish consistently, and write an original dissertation. In the end he/she would be awarded a ‘doctor nauk’ (lit. doctor of sciences) degree.

[5] Froebel Institute: F. W. A. Froebel (1783-1852), German educational theorist, developed the idea of raising children in kindergartens. In Russia the Froebel training institutions functioned from 1872-1917 The three-year training was intended for tutors of children in families and kindergartens.

[6] School #: Schools had numbers and not names. It was part of the policy of the state. They were all state schools and were all supposed to be identical.

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

[8] Dzerzhinskiy, Felix (1876-1926): Polish communist and head of the Soviet secret police. After the Revolution of 1917 he was appointed by Lenin to organise a force to combat internal political threats, and he set up the Cheka, the Bolshevik secret police. Lenin gave the organization huge powers to combat the opposition during the Russian Civil War. At the end of the Civil War, the Cheka was changed into the GPU (State Political Directorate) a section of the NKVD, but this did not diminish Dzerzhinskiy’s power: from 1921-24 he was Minister of Interior, head of the Cheka and later the KGB, Minister for Communications and head of the Russian Council of National Economy.

[9] 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.

[10] Annexation of Eastern Poland: According to a secret clause in the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact defining Soviet and German territorial spheres of influence in Eastern Europe, the Soviet Union occupied Eastern Poland in September 1939. In early November the newly annexed lands were divided up between the Ukrainian and the Belarusian Soviet Republics.

[11] Moldova: Historic region between the Eastern Carpathians, the Dniester River and the Black Sea, also a contemporary state, bordering with Romania and Ukraine. Moldova was first mentioned after the end of the Mongol invasion in 14th century scripts as Eastern marquisate of the Hungarian Kingdom. For a long time, the Principality of Moldova was tributary of either Poland or Hungary until the Ottoman Empire took possession of it in 1512. The Sultans ruled Moldova indirectly by appointing the Prince of Moldova to govern the vassal principality. These were Moldovan boyars until the early 18th century and Greek (Phanariot) ones after. In 1812 Tsar Alexander I occupied the eastern part of Moldova (between the Prut and the Dniester river and the Black Sea) and attached it to its Empire under the name of Bessarabia. In 1859 the remaining part of Moldova merged with Wallachia. In 1862 the new country was called Romania, which was finally internationally recognized at the Treaty of Berlin in 1878. Bessarabia united with Romania after World War I, and was recaptured by the Soviet Union in 1940. The Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic gained independence after the break up of the Soviet Union in 1991 and is now called Moldovan Republic (Republica Moldova).

[12] Soviet-Finnish War (1939-40): The Soviet Union attacked Finland on 30 November 1939 to seize the Karelian Isthmus. The Red Army was halted at the so-called Mannengeim line. The League of Nations expelled the USSR from its ranks. In February-March 1940 the Red Army broke through the Mannengeim line and reached Vyborg. In March 1940 a peace treaty was signed in Moscow, by which the Karelian Isthmus, and some other areas, became part of the Soviet Union.

[13] All-Union pioneer organization: a communist organization for teenagers between 10 and 15 years old (cf: boy-/ girlscouts in the US). The organization aimed at educating the young generation in accordance with the communist ideals, preparing pioneers to become members of the Komsomol and later the Communist Party. In the Soviet Union, all teenagers were pioneers.

[14] Molotov, V. P. (1890-1986): Statesman and member of the Communist Party leadership. From 1939, Minister of Foreign Affairs. On June 22, 1941 he announced the German attack on the USSR on the radio. He and Eden also worked out the percentages agreement after the war, about Soviet and western spheres of influence in the new Europe.

[15] Lermontov, Mikhail, (1814-1841): Russian poet and novelist. His poetic reputation, second in Russia only to Pushkin’s, rests upon the lyric and narrative works of his last five years. Lermontov, who had sought a position in fashionable society, became enormously critical of it. His novel, A Hero of Our Time (1840), is partly autobiographical. It consists of five tales about Pechorin, a disenchanted and bored nobleman. The novel is considered a classic of Russian psychological realism.

[16] Order of the Combat Red Banner: Established in 1924, it was awarded for bravery and courage in the defense of the Homeland.

[17] Vlasov military: Members of the voluntary military formations of former Russian prisoners of war that fought on the German side during World War II. They were led by the former Soviet general, A. Vlasov, hence their name.

[18] 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.

[19] Enemy of the people: Soviet official term; euphemism used for real or assumed political opposition.

[20] Rehabilitation in the Soviet Union: Many people who had been arrested, disappeared or killed during the Stalinist era were rehabilitated after the 20th Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in 1956, where Khrushchev publicly debunked the cult of Stalin and lifted the veil of secrecy from what had happened in the USSR during Stalin’s leadership. It was only after the official rehabilitation that people learnt for the first time what had happened to their relatives as information on arrested people had not been disclosed before.

[21] Mandatory job assignment in the USSR: Graduates of higher educational institutions had to complete a mandatory 2-year job assignment issued by the institution from which they graduated. After finishing this assignment young people were allowed to get employment at their discretion in any town or organization.

[22] 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.

[23] 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.

[24] 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.

[25] Brezhnev, Leonid, Ilyich (1906-82) Soviet leader. He joined the Communist Party in 1931 and rose steadily in its hierarchy, becoming a secretary of the party’s central committee in 1952. In 1957, as protégé of Khrushchev, he became a member of the presidium (later politburo) of the central committee. He was chairman of the presidium of the Supreme Soviet, or titular head of state. Following Khrushchev’s fall from power in 1964, which Brezhnev helped to engineer, he was named first secretary of the Communist Party. Although sharing power with Kosygin, Brezhnev emerged as the chief figure in Soviet politics. In 1968, in support of the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia, he enunciated the ‘Brezhnev doctrine,’ asserting that the USSR could intervene in the domestic affairs of any Soviet bloc nation if communist rule was threatened. While maintaining a tight rein in Eastern Europe, he favored closer relations with the Western powers, and he helped bring about a détente with the United States. In 1977 he assumed the presidency of the USSR. Under Gorbachev, Brezhnev’s regime was criticized for its corruption and failed economic policies.

[26] Victory Day in Russia (9th May): National holiday to commemorate the defeat of Nazi Germany and the end of World War II and honor the Soviets who died in the war.

[27] Perestroika (Russian for restructuring): Soviet economic and social policy of the late 1980s, associated with the name of Soviet politician Mikhail Gorbachev. The term designated the attempts 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 democratize the Communist Party organization. By 1991, perestroika was declining and was soon eclipsed by the dissolution of the USSR.

[28] Gorbachev, Mikhail (1931- ): Soviet political leader. Gorbachev joined the Communist Party in 1952 and gradually moved up in the party hierarchy. In 1970 he was elected to the Supreme Soviet of the USSR, where he remained until 1990. In 1980 he joined the politburo, and in 1985 he was appointed general secretary of the party. In 1986 he embarked on a comprehensive program of political, economic, and social liberalization under the slogans of glasnost (openness) and perestroika (restructuring). The government released political prisoners, allowed increased emigration, attacked corruption, and encouraged the critical reexamination of Soviet history. The Congress of People’s Deputies, founded in 1989, voted to end the Communist Party’s control over the government and elected Gorbachev executive president. Gorbachev dissolved the Communist Party and granted the Baltic states independence. Following the establishment of the Commonwealth of Independent States in 1991, he resigned as president. Since 1992, Gorbachev has headed international organizations.

[29] Hesed: Meaning care and mercy in Hebrew, Hesed stands for the charity organization founded by Amos Avgar in the early 20th century. Supported by Claims Conference and Joint Hesed helps for Jews in need to have a decent life despite hard economic conditions and encourages development of their self-identity. Hesed provides a number of services aimed at supporting the needs of all, and particularly elderly members of the society. The major social services include: work in the center facilities (information, advertisement of the center activities, foreign ties and free lease of medical equipment); services at homes (care and help at home, food products delivery, delivery of hot meals, minor repairs); work in the community (clubs, meals together, day-time polyclinic, medical and legal consultations); service for volunteers (training programs). The Hesed centers have inspired a real revolution in the Jewish life in the FSU countries. People have seen and sensed the rebirth of the Jewish traditions of humanism. Currently over eighty Hesed centers exist in the FSU countries. Their activities cover the Jewish population of over eight hundred settlements.

 

Grigoriy Fihtman

Grigoriy Fihtman his wife Raisa Fihtman and our son Alexandr Fihtman (Komargorod, 1952).

Odessa, Ukraine

Grigoriy Samuelovich Fihtman and his wife Raisa Moiseyevna, a small amiable lady, live in the very heart of Moldavanka on the second floor of a two-storied wing house in an old Odessa yard. The front door opens into a small hallway that also serves as a kitchen: there is a tap and a sink and a stove in here. A small room with two windows is furnished with comfortable pieces of furniture: a big sofa by the wall against the windows, where the host and hostess probably sleep, a wardrobe, a cupboard, a table and a couch by a window.  There are carpets on the walls.  There is a pile of newspapers: Grigoriy Samuelovich  is interested in politics.  He is a short, thin and lively man. He has a strong teacher’s voice and correct literary language sounding similar to newspaper editorial articles. He enjoys telling his story and tells it with all details.


Interview details

Interviewee: Grigoriy Fihtman
Interviewer: Natalia Fomina
Time of interview: January 2004
Place: Odessa, Ukraine



My family background

I am going to be brief telling about my grandmothers and grandfathers. My paternal grandfather Avrum Fihtman was born and lived in the 19th century in Yampol town in Podolia [Yampol was a district town of Podolsk province (present Vinnitsa region). According to census in 1897 there were 6 600 residents including 2 800 Jews.] Я I know that grandfather Avrum died when my father was a young man in the 1890s. I don’t remember my grandmother’s name. They were not a wealthy family. My father had several brothers. One of them moved to England before the October revolution [1].  My parents corresponded with him until before the Great Patriotic War [2]. I don’t know his name, though. I remember a little one of my father’s older brothers. His name was Moisha. My father and mother and I went to see him in Yampol where he resided. He was very ill and now I understand that this was his last meeting with my father. Uncle Moisha died shortly afterward. Uncle Moisha had a family and children, but they were much older than I and I don’t remember them.

I remember my father’s another brother Borukh living in Mogilyov-Podolskiy, much better since I saw him few times. Borukh had two children: a son and a daughter. Son Abram named after grandfather was my senior. He was born in 1918. He was hard to get on with. My father said that when he visited his brother little Abram always tried to hide away from his relatives. The daughter’s name was Polina, and her Jewish name was Perl. During the Great patriotic war Polina and her parents, uncle Borukh and aunt, whose name I don’t remember, were in a ghetto. I think my aunt died in the ghetto and uncle Borukh died right after liberation. Polina survived. Abram was at the front at that time. He was recruited to the army on the first day of the war. He was 23 in 1941. He was severely wounded, but he survived. He met Maria, a Russian girl, in the hospital in Moscow region. They got married and when Mogilyov-Podolskiy was liberated Abram and his wife arrived there. He was demobilized from the army being an invalid of the war. His parents were gone. Abram was business-oriented and was doing well. He worked in the Communekhoz agency and arranged for an apartment for himself.  Then he worked as director of the market in Mogilyov-Podolskiy. They had a good life. His wife Maria finished extramural department of the Vinnitsa Pedagogical College and taught Russian literature and language at school. They didn’t have children. I didn’t get along with Abram. Few years ago (2001) he died in Mogilyov-Podolskiy. Uncle Borukh’s daughter Polina worked as an accountant. She got married and had a son. I saw him when he went to a kindergarten. Polina divorced her husband. I don’t even remember his name.

My father Samuel Fihtman, one of the younger children, was born in Yampol in 1883. I cannot say where he studied besides cheder. He could speak fluent Russian and read in it well. In 1896, at the age of 13 my father went to work in Odessa. There were some distant relatives living in Odessa. I don’t know anything about them. They helped my father to find a job.  My father worked as designer for an owner of a fashionable women’s clothes store in Deribassovskaya Street. According to what my father said this was a big and rich store: there was a big choice of French perfumery and haberdashery from all over Europe. My father designed shop windows. He liked his job and his master valued him high. He even sent him to polish his skills in Kiev.

My maternal grandfather was my father’s oldest brother. My father married his niece who was his age. Such marriages were frequent at the time. My grandfather Zelman Fihtman lived in Dzygovka village [Dzygovka was a town in Yampol district Podolsk province (Vinnitsa region at present). Its population in 1897 was 7 194 people, 2 187 of them were Jews], near Yampol. Grandfather Zelman was about 20 years older than my father. This means that he was born in the 1860s. I knew his wife, my grandmother Haya Fihtman, a little.  She lived with us in Zhmerinka. I remember her lighting candles on Friday. She always wore a kerchief at this time. She was a quiet and nice grandmother.  I loved her. Grandmother loved it when I sang her children’s songs.  Grandmother Haya spoke Yiddish at home, but she could write and read in Yiddish well. When my mother was busy, my grandmother used to read me books in Russian.  Grandmother Haya died when I was 9. This happened in 1935. I was in a pioneer camp and she was buried in my absence.

I don’t know how many children grandmother Haya had, but I remember one of my mother’s brothers. Uncle Leibush lived in Odessa in Bolgarskaya Street. I visited him several times before the Great Patriotic War.  I don’t remember his wife. He welcomed me warmly. His wife was a housewife.  Uncle Leibush was a worker in a plant. . He took me for a walk in Odessa and showed me Arcadia [well-known Odessa beach, a recreation place], and the Opera Theater on the outside, however. They had two children: son Munia, 2 years older than I, born in 1925, and daughter Zhenia, a couple of years younger than I.  Uncle Leibush’s family perished during the Great Patriotic War in Odessa [3]. After demobilization in 1946 I came to Odessa looking for them.  Whatever little I managed to find out indicated that uncle Leibush and Munia perished during defense of the town. Their neighbors said that Romanians took away Zhenia and her mother, uncle Leibush’s wife, in 1941 and nobody ever saw them again. Where were they taken or where did they perish? This is not known, but they did perish, that’s for sure.

My mother Sima Fihtman was born in Dzygovka in 1886. She finished a primary school in Dzygovka and then studied in a grammar school in Yampol for two years. Her parents wanted to give her good education. I don’t think they were wealthy. We didn’t have any valuables proving my grandparents’ wealth somehow. My mother was short, thin, nice and quiet.  When I went to the primary school she helped me do my homework. She also liked embroidery and I can still see her works before my eyes like in a dream.

My parents got married in 1908. My father took my mother to Odessa where they had a wedding party. I have no doubts that they had a chuppah: it couldn’t have been otherwise in those years.  My father continued his work in the store. They rented an apartment in Malaya Arnautskaya Street. I know from my father that their first son died before he turned one year and a half. Their next two sons also died. I know that the name of one of these three boys was Zelman.  Perhaps, he was named after my mother’s father who had died before. When we lived in Zhmerinka I remember a photograph of a small boy. I asked my mother: ‘Who is this?’ and she answered: This is your brother Zelman, he was one year and a half when he died’.  In 1916 my mother had her fourth son. They named his Abram.  In 1921, during the period of horrible famine [4], my parents moved to Zhmerinka. Some of their relatives living there wrote them that it was easier there to get food. The famine was horrible in 1921. My parents never went back to Odessa, though my father was willing to return. He traveled to Odessa several times and even found a job there, but he couldn’t get an apartment. They stayed in Zhmerinka for twenty years.

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Growing up

I was born in 1926. We rented an apartment in Zhmerinka. We lived in one apartment the first seven years of my life. Our landlords, Ukrainian or Russian, were like family to us. When I turned 8 we moved to another apartment that we rented from Studzinskiye, a Polish family. We went along well with them. Ivan Studzinskiy was a joiner in a railroad depot. His wife Katia was a housewife. She was very nice, cheerful and kind. They had three sons and they were married. Their oldest son Volodia was a locomotive operator. The middle son’s name was Konstantin and the youngest was Fyodor. Volodia had two children and I used to play with them. The Studzinskiys owned a house and we rented its basement part.  We had two small rooms, a kitchen and a corridor. We felt quite comfortable there.  My parents had few pieces of furniture from Odessa.  My father knew about beautiful furniture. We had a beautiful round table on one massive leg forking into four feet decorated with carving at the bottom. There were beautiful chairs well matched with the table. There was an ordinary sofa. There was a kerosene lamp with nice dim glass lampshade lighting the room. It was hanging on the ceiling and my father lit it every evening. When I was small I shared a room with grandmother Haya. Then she died and it became my room. I remember well that my parents were eager to have an apartment of their own and saved every nickel to buy a dwelling. Not many of our Russian or Jewish acquaintances in Zhmerinka had their own dwelling.

My father never joined the Party. He was an ordinary worker. He had different jobs trying to provide for his family. He worked at the railroad and a sawmill. Like many others he was interested in politics. He liked to read ‘Izvestiya’ [Izvestiya – News, daily communist newspaper published in Moscow], and he also subscribed to the ‘Der emes’ (Truth) in Yiddish. There was a time when this newspaper was issued and its articles were translated from the Pravda newspaper  [‘Truth’, the main paper of the Communist Party of the USSR]. My mother was a housewife. She was a very good housewife: the house glittered with cleanness. My mother mainly cooked kosher food. Dairy and meat products were never mixed. We didn’t have pork. Chickens were taken to a shochet. It was my duty to go to shochet. There was a big market in Zhmerinka where mother bought sour cream, milk and cottage cheese. We bought sugar and pasta in stores, but we didn’t buy many products there. My mother made noodles at home. She also baked delicious pastries, although she didn’t do it often. She made pies with cherries and poppy seed rolls. We only spoke Yiddish at home, but we also knew Russian well.

My mother and father weren’t fanatically religious, but they always celebrated Jewish holidays. They went to the synagogue on holidays. My mother only used special crockery at Pesach.  We didn’t have anything non-kosher at home through 8 days of Pesach. We dressed up on holidays. My mother made matzah pudding, very delicious. The table was set according to the rules: something bitter, matzah and everybody had their own wine glasses. I don’t remember any details, though. I can still see my little blue cup with ‘Pesach’ engraved on it. I remember well that there was the first night and the second night. My father recited the prayer and told me a little about the history of this holiday. He said it was necessary to drink four glasses of wine, but we only sipped wine from our glasses. There were no guests; everybody celebrated with their own families. I also remember that my mother treated the Studzinskiy family to her Pesach dishes.  Katia also brought us Easter bread and painted eggs on Catholic Easter. We also celebrated Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. My mother and father fasted. I began to fast when I studied in the 6th or 7th grade.  We also lit candles at Chanukkah: another candle each day, 8 candles in total. I liked playing with a whipping top. I also received Chanukkah gelt of few  kopecks. I don’t remember much of Purim, but I remember that my mother baked hamantashen and told me why they had to be this shape.

I don’t know how many synagogues there were in Zhmerinka. I remember one located nearby. My parents went to the synagogue and when I grew older they took me several times for a minyan. I felt honored to be invited to the synagogue. However, I had to go in and out of there unnoticed since I was an active pioneer. I found everything interesting: a nicely decorated rostrum, an ark containing the Torah with a beautiful velvet curtain. Everything looked festive. There was a balcony for women on the second floor. Men sat in the pits, speaking theatrical language.  Women were in kerchiefs and men wore their yarmulkes or hats. I’ve never tried on a yarmulka. I had a tubeteika cap. Actually, most people wore headpieces at the time. Boys like colorful embroidered tubeteika caps.  It was allowed to wear it to the synagogue.

There was famine in Ukraine in 1933. I remember my mother and father getting corn flour, though I don’t know how and where they got it.  They made flat breads called ‘malaih’ that were cut to pieces and my mother gave us some of it, but they were mainly made for sale. My mother and grandmother Haya went to sell this bread at the market. They bought flour for the money they got and then sold bread again. There was a Torgsin store [5] in Zhmerinka. I even remember the street, but we didn’t have anything to take there. Thus, we received some money from my father’s brother in London few times and bought food products in Torgsin. We bought sugar, rice and flour. My father was afraid of authorities, though. They didn’t appreciate any ties with foreigners, particularly, with the Joint that was considered to be a counterrevolutionary organization.

I went to a Ukrainian school at the age of 8 in 1934. Children went to school at the age of 8 then. Since my father was a railroad worker I went to the railroad school that was prestigious in the town. It was located near the railway station. There were best teachers and classrooms were better equipped in this school. There was electricity at school and I liked coming there. There was light at school! I liked literature, history and geography. I had all excellent marks in these subjects. I didn’t do so well at physics or mathematic. There were many Jewish children at school and there were also Russian and Ukrainian children. I got along well with all schoolmates, but there was one anti-Semitic boy named Grigoriy Zabolotny. Since I was short I sat at the first or second desk. Grigoriy sat behind me and constantly picked on me. I said to him: ‘But your name and mine is Grigoriy’ and he replied: ‘Yes, but you are a different Grigoriy’. He made it clear to me that my name wasn’t Grigoriy, and in truth I was Gershl, Jew. Zabolotny and his buddies were meeting schoolchildren by the front door before school. They lined up by the walls in the corridor and pushed everybody from one wall to another. If you dropped your bag, for example, and bent to pick it, they hit you on your back. So I tried to come to school shortly before classes and when the bell rang they had to go to the classroom and I followed them.  Zabolotny pulled girls, particularly Jewish girls, by their plates and wrote things with chalk on their back. However, I never heard him saying ‘zhyd’ [abusive word for a Jew]. When I returned to Zhmerinka in 1946, I heard that this Grigoriy became a policeman on the first days of the war.

Zhmerinka of my childhood was a small town. There were one-storied building with few two-storied houses in the center. There was a nice park founded by a landlord named Belinskiy and this park was named after Belinskiy. On Soviet holidays and weekends people enjoyed walking in this park. Zhmerinka was a big railroad junction and had one of the best railroad stations in the south of Ukraine: it was a big and beautiful stone structure and there were few platforms.  There was an underground passage leading to one platform.

Cinema was the main entertainment in Zhmerinka.  There were few Soviet movies that they showed many times in a row. We went to watch ‘Chapaev’ movie as many times as they showed it at the cinema theater. It was the same with the ‘We are from Kronshtadt’ movie. When the ‘Circus’ and ‘Merry guys’ arrived we enjoyed them to the utmost. I liked to sign songs from these movies at our school concerts. I knew all songs by Dunayevskiy [Isaac Dunayevskiy, (1900-1955) a popular Soviet composer, Jew], sung by Utyosov [Leonid Utyosov (1895-1982) popular Soviet singer and movie actor, Jew]: ‘A merry song makes us at ease’, ‘Heart, you don’t want to know piece’. I remember every word and every note of this song.  Then there was a movie ‘Captain Grant’s children’. We often watched it. We never got bored with it! Tickets cost 15-20 kopecks: this was nothing. The cinema theater was not far from my house and it was a nice building for a small provincial town. There was an orchestra of 5-6 musicians playing popular melodies in the foyer before a movie. Then the bell rang three times and after it rang the third time the audience went into the hall. I often went to the cinema with my friends and sometimes – with parents.

Two of my close friends – Volodia, Ukrainian, and Shulim, a Jew, lived in my neighborhood. We were good friends. We went to different schools. Although Volodia’s father was a railroad man his parents sent him to a Russian school. Shulim also went to the Russian school. We played ‘hide-and-seek, played with a ball and a wheel. I gave them books on their birthdays. Their parents offered us tea, cookies and jam on their birthday parties. My friends also came to my birthday parties. Both of my friends perished at the front during the Great Patriotic War.

When I was in the 2nd grade, my father managed to arrange for me to go to a pioneer camp in Odessa. This was my first trip by train when I went by myself. My father asked an acquaintance of him to keep an eye on me and in Odessa my brother Abram who was a student of a technical school in Odessa met me. Abram and I took a tram to Lustdorf (a village near Odessa, present Chernomorka). The pioneer camp was at the seashore. This was the first time I saw the sea and boats. I can still remember this. I started putting down my impressions in my diary to tell my mother and father what I saw. We went to the beach and had meals three or four times a day. I saw Dutch cheese for the first time in my life. We got it for breakfast. It was new food for me and I refused to eat it. Abram visited me few times. He explained to me that it was delicious and very good food. He whispered: ‘We don’t have it at home. Just eat it’. We were given fruit, grapes, and butter. I was supposed to spend three weeks in the camp, but I got homesick on the tenth day. I asked my brother: ‘Take me home’. He said: ‘You are all right here. Nobody does any harm here’. So we counted days together: ten, nine, eight days before going home… I enjoyed it there, but I never learned to swim. I was afraid of the sea  (I still am). I stayed at the shore for hours looking at the water and breathing in the sea air.

I became a pioneer in the 3rd grade at the age of 10. I was an active pioneer. It was so interesting! This red necktie! Silk ties were the best. Not everybody could afford one. We didn’t tie them round our necks, but there was a special clip. There were three flames on a clip – very beautiful. I loved pioneer meetings. I especially liked dance, sing, or recite at school concerts. On 1 May or on October revolution Day [6] someone from the town house of culture attended our school concert and I got an invitation to perform in the town amateur club. I was also a young correspondent of the all-Union newspaper ‘Pionerskaya Pravda’ (Pioneer Truth) and Ukrainian newspaper ‘Yuny Leninets’ (Young Leninist). In the 6th and 7th grades I wrote articles about school life. I corresponded with editorial offices. Of course, these letters were gone when we evacuated. I also liked drawing. Our neighbor taught me to draw portrait copies of Stalin, for example.

I remember some noise by our window one night in 1937 [Great Тerror] [7]. I was 11. In the morning Katia came crying. She said that Ivan Studzinskiy was arrested that night. We never saw him again and they didn’t either. Their older son Volodia felt bitter about the Soviet regime and when Germans came he became a policeman. After the war he was sentenced to 5 years in prison. Other brothers Konstantin and Fyodor had nothing to do with occupants.

My brother Abram was 10 years older than me. He was a student when I went to the first grade. He studied in a technical school in Odessa and then went to study in the Chemical Production College of Tinned Food Industry. In 1939, a month after WWII began he went to serve in the army. In 1940 Abram wrote us that his commandment decided to send him to study at a military school. We were happy for him, but some time later he wrote that he got a refusal for having relatives abroad.  So he stayed to serve in Brest. A year later in late November he came home on leave to visit mother since she was very ill. She had a severe condition and a group of doctors issued a document confirming her hard health condition and on the basis of this document Abram got a leave. Abram came wearing his military uniform. I was turning 14 on those days, but we didn’t have any celebration since my mother was dying. She survived. Doctors helped her. My father invited professor from Vinnitsa who came to Zhmerinka to provide medical treatment to the wife of a Party boss. It turned out that the diagnosis of local doctors was wrong.

Everything my brother told me about his military routines was interesting to me. He said that Brest was located on the banks of the Bug River and there were Germans on the opposite bank. Occasionally soldiers talked across the river. Germans shouted in German and Russian soldiers yelled back in Russian. There was nothing alarming about the situation there. A month later in May 1941 we received the last and alarming card from him. He wrote: ‘You know, my dearest, that my service will be over in autumn. We shall see each other soon, but ask God that everything is all right’. This was all we had from him. Ten, fifteen, twenty days passed. Middle of June. We are waiting. Then 22 June came. Then it became clear to us that there would be no letter from him. Since Brest is Brest [The fortress with its Harrison few in number made a prolonged defense against Germans from 22 June through the twenties of July 1941]. However, according to the note my father received in 1943, Abram survived in Brest and was at the front for another year. He perished in Leningrad region in May 1942. He was 26 years old.

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During the war

I remember the beginning of the Great Patriotic War very well. My father managed to go to work as a shop assistant in a store. He worked in it few months. He worked hard. It happened so that on 22 June my father skipped breakfast before going to work. My mother packed his breakfast and asked me to take it to my father. Hs store was in the center of the town near the railway station. I ran there at about 12 o’clock noon. There were people gathering near a radio on a post and I came nearer as well.  I had finished the 7th grade by then, and was a big boy. I heard Molotov’s [8] speech. I ran into the store. There was a long line as usual at it is hard to think about it even now.

I ran home and told my mother about the war and she thought about my brother in Brest. She turned into a stone from sorrow.  Whatever was said in the next days she had only one concern: «Abrasha [affectionate from Abram] is in Brest!’ She didn’t eat or sleep: ‘Abrasha is in Brest!’  Zhmerinka was bombed literally one day after the war began. German bombers dropped bombs on the railway station and railcar repair plant. One bomb fell on a platform, but it didn’t hit the railway station. There were German landing troopers in Zhmerinka directing German pilots and I happened to meet two of them. On about the tenth day of the war my mother sent me to meet my father from work in the evening. It was getting dark. My father and I were going home. A bomb exploded nearby and I grabbed my father by his jacket. I was scared. Two men wearing railroad uniforms came alongside. They carried cases and one of them said with an accent: ‘Are you, boy, scared? This is only a beginning’. I followed them. It was dark and they didn’t see me. We went past school building that housed a military hospital. One of them said in German (I studied German at school): ‘I wonder is in this building’. My father called me in whisper:  ‘Let’s go. There is a smell of gunpowder in the air’. I think they were the ones who directed German pilots.

Two weeks later, on 9 July, I was helping my father in his store when director of the store ran inside: ‘Samuel Abramovich, we’ve got a railcar. My family is already at the railway station. Hurry up!’ The front line was nearing Mogilyov-Podolskiy. We hurried home to pack. My mother was very ill and couldn’t carry anything. I went to find a loader, but there was none. My father and I packed two bales. We didn’t take any winter clothing. My mother kept telling us that we would be back 10-12 days later. Of course, the Red army would win. When we were leaving my mother made our beds and laid a clean tablecloth on the table. On 9 July we boarded a freight train. We stayed on a reserve track over that night. In the morning men began to make plank beds in the railcar. We departed in the evening. It took us half a month to get to Krasnodarskiy region [about 800 km from Zhmerinka].  The train stopped every few kilometers since they were bombing the track. Few railcars were destroyed on the way. Their passengers perished.

We reached Korenevka station in Krasnodarskiy region. There were wagons there. They rode us to Platnirovka village. We got bread and milk and washed in a bathroom. Then we were accommodated in a house. The owner of the house was a Kazak woman. Her husband was at the front. She was a terrible anti-Semite. We stayed with her three months. She demonstrated her remorse toward us, but she couldn’t force us out of her house since we were accommodated by an order of higher authorities. When Germans were near Rostov and Krasnodar she said to my mother: ‘Go away, Germans will come tomorrow and kill you!’ She believed they would not kill a Kazak woman, but they would kill Jews. She had a small garden. There were huge crops of cherry plums and I picked few. She called my father and said: ‘Tell your son to ask my permission for picking plums!’ My father and I were working harvesting grain. There were rich crops. We received bread for our work and they also delivered hot meals to the field.  We shared our food with my mother. She was very ill. She had ill stomach. Her suffering during the recent months worsened her condition. The front was nearing and we evacuated again to Northern Ossetia, Zmeyskaya village of Elhotov district. We got accommodation and work in a kolkhoz there. In 1942, when I was about 16 I and other teenage boys and girls and men who were not fit to serve in the army went to construct fortifications in the vicinity of Mozdok town: trenches and escarpments. Military engineers were supervisors of these works. Some people dropped their excavation tools and ran away. I was afraid of running away. We were near the front line. We should be grateful to a colonel: he understood that our group of women, boys and children, might get in encirclement and he ordered: ‘Dear people, go away. Few hours from now Germans will be here’. There were hours left. We were 50-60 kilometers from the village where my mother and father were. They had packed by the time I returned and we managed to leave. Again we boarded a freight train. We arrived in Baku [Azerbaijan]. In Baku we waited for our turn to board a boat for five days.

There were crowds of refugees on the shore with their bales and suitcases. We were staying in the open air and this was September. It was already getting colder. Foggy. There was one boat every five or seven days. My mother was getting worse. My father and I went to town to exchange whatever clothes we had for food.  Once day we decided to storm on board of the first boat in the harbor.  We managed. There was storm in the sea. We didn’t have water. We arrived in Krasnovodsk. My mother was asking for some water. I couldn’t get any. There was no water in Krasnovodsk. One woman offered a glass of milk instead of water. I gave my mother this milk. In Krasnovodsk we got into a passenger train for the first time since the war began. We didn’t know where the train was heading. We crossed Turkmenia and arrived in Stalinabad (present Dushanbe).  There were changed for a narrow-gauge railway train and headed across the Pamir  [mountainous region of central Asia, located mainly in Tajikistan and extending into NE Afghanistan and SW Xinjiang, China; called roof of the world. Many peaks rise to more than 20,000 ft (6,096 m); Mount Communism (24,590 ft/7,495 m) and Lenin Peak (23,508 ft/7,165 m) are the highest peaks in the Pamir. The region forms a geologic structural knot from which the great Tian Shan, Karakorum, Kunlun, and Hindu Kush mountain systems radiate. Snow-capped throughout the year, the Pamir experiences long cold winters and cool summers] and covered over 100 kilometers over mountainous passes and arrived at Kurgan-Tubeh town [Tajikistan].

As soon as the train arrived at the railway station people wearing white robes appeared there: ‘Is anybody ill? We will take them to a hospital. The rest of you will get accommodations, work, etc.’ I looked at my father and my father looked at me. What do we do? We didn’t feel like letting mother go to hospital, but we had to. We didn’t know whether we were getting accommodation, or where we would get one or where we would live before. And my mother was taken to hospital. This happened on 20 October 1942. On the last day of October we came to see her. My father had a pass and he could go inside, but I had to wait at the gate. I saw my mother talking to father at the front door. She had a white kerchief on her head. My mother asked to make her a drink from dry fruit. We went to the market to buy dried fruit and cooked them into a drink, compot. In the morning of 1 November we brought her the compot, but she was in the morgue already. I was to turn 16 in a month. When I started telling somebody what my mother was like I always added that I didn’t have time to know what she was like when she deceased. My father and I buried my mother in the local cemetery. When our landlady got to know that we had just buried my mother she began to comfort us and brought us some tea and flat bread. They were nice people and welcomed us cordially. They gave us a much better reception than we had in Krasnodarskiy region. Unfortunately, I didn’t remember their names. They had different names, hard to remember.

My father fell ill with malaria right after my mother died. I also had malaria. All newcomers had it: it was unhealthy climate. Few escaped. I lived there until autumn 1943. Within this year of my life I finished a FZU (factory vocational school). I became a tinsmith, worked for two months before I was mobilized to the army. Young men went to the army at the age of 17 at this height of the war. This was 1943, when Ukraine was to be liberated and Byelorussia and there was a long road to go before the victory. –During the war I served in the army for a year, four months and nineteen days. I remember this duration very well since presently the state counts every day of military service at wartime as three days paying pensions.  At that time every day of the war meant thousands of deceased. Every day! Before going to the army I joined Komsomol [9]. It was mandatory for recruits to become Komsomol members since we were to be trained to go to the front. It was a routinely process: chief of the military registry committee called secretary of the district Komsomol committee and informed him: ‘Admit this recruit to Komsomol since we are recruiting him to the army tomorrow’. I served at the border with Afghanistan where we fought basmachi gangs. Those gangs consisted of former kulaks, as Stalin called them, from Central Asia republics who escaped to Afghanistan in the early 1930s during collectivization [10]. They took advantage of the war situation and engaged us into combat action in the south. I became a sergeant there and had a squad under my command. I had a Russian friend from Leningrad. His name was Gennadiy. He liked playing the guitar and I liked dancing. Gennadiy couldn’t dance, so I was giving him dancing classes and taught me elements of playing the guitar. We found a common language. Once, after another combat action he was cleaning his weapon and unintentionally shot himself. He was my age, 17 years old.

In 1944 I was sent to Orenburg infantry school. I was a cadet there for 14 months.  I studied well and only had one problem. There was a mandatory item in the curriculum: ‘Each officer must learn to swim’. I am afraid of water. My lieutenant said: ‘there is a swimming pool. It’s not deep. I will push you in the water and will move your hands and you will learn to swim’. I was trying hard, but I never learned to do it. In May 1945 we were finishing our school. I met victory there. I remember this day very well.  We lined on the drill square and waited there for an hour.  We didn’t know anything and were trying to guess: what’s happening?  Chief of our school came to the square and explained: last night Germany signed its capitulation and the war was over. We began shouting ‘Hurrah!’ and officers who had guns fired out all their bullets saluting.  We had tears of joy in our eyes – from then on there was to be no more killing. We understood that the war was going to last five-ten days more, and everybody knew what kind of work we would be given work. So we met Victory Day and from that day Victory Day has been the dearest holiday for me and also, for my family.

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After the war

In 1946 I demobilized from the army. When my father and I met in Kurgan-Tubeh, he cried for the first time. He reached his jacket and showed me a notification on my brother’s death.  He received it in 1943, but he didn’t show it to me. I had quite a temper and my father feared that if I heard that Abram perished I might run away to the front. I would have done it. My father and I returned to Zhmerinka. Again we were having a problem with getting a place to live. My father had been a pensioner for few years and I began to look for a job. I couldn’t find one for a long time. I heard, though that Stalin issued an order obliging all military registry offices to find employment for veterans of the war. My registry office argued with me: ‘We didn’t recruit you, an office in Kurgan-Tubeh did’. I replied: ‘That’s true. You didn’t, but I was born here and studied here. I came back to my hometown’. ‘We are having problems with employment and we can help only those who had been recruited here’. I don’t know what might come out of it if I hadn’t met my friend who invited me to visit his relatives in Komargorod village where he promised to introduce me to a nice Jewish girl.

We met in 1946 and in 1947 we registered our marriage. My wife Raisa Shraiman was born in Komargorod village Toimashpol district Vinnitsa region in 1927. Her father Moisey Shraiman was a tinsmith and her mother Rosa Shraiman was a dressmaker. Raisa had an older brother, born in 1924. They were in the ghetto from the first days and were liberated when Tomashpol district was cleared in middle March 1944. What they lived through would be enough to write a novel. I will tell you one episode. Occupants forced all Jewish families into few houses. They made those miserable people to install barbed wire fencing. Some time later a punitive force unit arrived at Komargorod. They ordered few men to dig a big pit in a small forest near the village.  My wife’s father Moisey Shraiman was among those men doing this work. Ten they returned to the ghetto and some time later in the evening they came to take eight men including Raisa’s father. They tied them in twos, hand by hand. Four pairs. They took them to the pit. Moisey understood immediately what was going on. He whispered to his companion that  they had to try to escape. His companion refused. Moisey managed to untie his knot and escape few meters away from the pit. He ran to the woods and Germans fired after him, but it was getting dark and he managed to run away. The rest of men were killed. There was a sovkhoz farm near the forest where Moisey took shelter in a box with cattle food. He didn’t remember how many days he stayed in this box. He remembered that some young people from a neighboring village opened this box and saw him there. They gave him a lump of sugar and a piece of bread.  He had a passport with him. Moisey asked those guys to take this passport to his wife Rosa and tell her that he was alive. Later he returned to the ghetto. They didn’t come after him again. This was the only shooting in the ghetto. In Tomashpol they shot over one hundred people. After Komargorod was liberated Raisa’s brother Leonid was recruited to the army. He took part in action in Romania, Austria and Hungary. He returned an invalid from the war. He worked as a schoolteacher in Komargorod and then in Cherkassy. He died in 1985.

After we got married we lived in Raisa parents’ house. I occasionally visited my father in Zhmerinka. Komargorod was a big village, about five thousand residents. I know this number since I was a member of electoral commission on al elections. There were few hundred Jews in the village before the war. There was a Jewish kolkhoz named after Petrovskiy [11]. When I got married there were about one hundred Jews in the village. The kolkhoz was not Jewish any more. Jews took to other crafts: two Jewish families were in sewing business, two families of tinsmiths, few Jews worked in the village department store and few Jews were teachers.  There was a kolkhoz, sovkhoz, a big hospital, an agricultural school and a big part established by landlord Balashow before the revolution in the village. However, there was no electricity before 1968 in the village. So we lived with kerosene lamps. Raisa’s mother liked to embroider or sew in the evening. I prepared for my classes at school and my sons did their homework.

My wife’s family was more religious than mine. Although they didn’t have anything after the war they began to save every kopeck to buy crockery. There were to be plates for Pesach and plates for everyday use. There were to be plates for meat and for dairy products. My wife still follows these rules. My sons were circumcised on the eighth day like we used to do it at home. I didn’t get involved in those proceedings since following my Komsomol membership I became a Party member.

After we got married I went to work as senior pioneer tutor in the local school. I taught children singing, dancing, drawing and made pioneer fires for them. Everything that I was so fond of in my childhood. I was one of the best pioneer tutors in Vinnitsa region.  I had awards for my accomplishments. I was a member of the teachers’ team at school, but I had to study to work at school. I studied in a physical culture school for four years and then I became a teacher of physical culture. Then I entered extramural department of the Historical Faculty of Odessa University. I had two sons by the time I finished it.

Our first baby Alexandr was born in 1948 and then Leonid was born in 1953.

I joined the party in 1952, at the period when ‘doctors’ plot’ [12] was at its height. This was a splash of anti-Semitism and you should have seen how they jeered at me at the ceremony of admission to VKP(b) (All-Union Party of Bolsheviks). It’s hard to find words to describe it! I was born Grigoriy and everybody called me by this name, though my parents knew that I wasn’t Grigoriy. One of the Party bureau members asked me all of a sudden: ‘What’s your real name?’ I said: ‘Grigoriy’. ‘And your patronymic? ‘Samuelovich’. ‘No, you tell us the truth. Why would you want to hide it? Just tell us your name’. I said: ‘This is the only name I have’. They wanted me to pronounce the name of Gershl. Anyway, they admitted me.  Chairman of the village council and chairman of the kolkhoz gave me recommendations to join the Party. They were both Ukrainian. Two recommendations were required. The third recommendation was to be issued by the Party district committee. I had three recommendations and they had nothing else to do, but admit me, but those provocative questions! ‘When was the last time you worked electors? – ‘I was an agitator-propagandist in a tractor operators crew. They pounced on me ‘He hasn’t met with his people for 48 hours! You should have talked with them yesterday! You should have seen them today! And you only were there the day before yesterday’. The situation was terrible at the time: director of school was a Jew, he got fired, chief of district department of education was a Jew and he was fired, chief of financial department of the district military office, captain, was a Jew and was fired. On one of those days they told me to make my appearance at the bureau of the district Komsomol committee. By that time I was one of the best pioneer tutors and I taught physical culture. The bureau jerked on me and threatened to fire me from my position of senior pioneer tutor. That meant depriving me of my piece of bread. They were just following instructions of higher authorities. About ten years later I met with those people and they told me they were forced to do this and in truth, they didn’t have anything against me personally.

I also remember another episode in 1952. A lecturer came from Vinnitsa. Kolkhoz members, agronomists, teachers and students of technical school gathered at the club. There were about 150 of us there. The lecturer spoke about ‘monsters in white robes who received a task from the government of Israel to destroy the soviet government’, and so on and so forth. So, when the lecture was over one teacher expressed her admiration: ‘What a lecture! I wish we had more of such lectures! They’ve opened our eyes on where the evil generates!’ Here you are: this is anti-Semitism. She was an ordinary teacher. After Stalin’s death when this campaign crashed my wife’s brother Leonid asked this teacher: ‘What do you say now?’ – ‘Well, you know this was the way it was at the time’.  Everybody calmed down and we continued to work in team.  I worked in this Komargorod village from 1947 till 1969.

When Stalin died in March 1953 I wore a mourning armband for three days like everybody else.  It couldn’t have been otherwise. The leader! The leader of the state. Generalissimos! Stalin became the leader of our country before we were born. We were raised with the name of Stalin. Stalin in the army and Stalin, Stalin everywhere. We though the world was to turn upside down. This was all to it! Life couldn’t go on! Stalin was not there and it meant that there could be nothing else!

In 1956, by the time of the 20th Party Congress [13], I had been a member of the Party few years. In February 1956 we were invited to a Party meeting at 8 o’clock in the evening. –This meeting lasted until 2 o’clock in the morning. They read Khrushchev’s  [14] report to us about who Stalin was and who was Beriya [15], and so on and so forth. They told us that what we were going to hear was not to be disclosed. Later newspapers published it. They couldn’t keep it a secret for longer. People got to know about it. It was a shock.  We sincerely believed that Stalin was not guilty for arrests and that Stalin didn’t know about them.  If he had known, he wouldn’t have allowed them.

My father lived in Zhmerinka. In 1946 he met an aging Jewish woman named Lisa. Her husband perished at the front. They began to live together. Shortly afterward Lisa’s brother living in Alchevsk Donetsk region took them to his town and rented an apartment from nice people for them. My father lived with Lisa the last seven years of his life in Alchevsk.  I visited him once. When my son Alexandr was ten years old I went to see my father. My second visit to Alchevsk was when I came to my father’s funeral in 1959. There was a civil funeral and my father was buried in the Jewish cemetery. I never went there again.

In 1960s I had a full workload at school. I also conducted extra-curriculum activities.   I also taught in senior classes where they paid more. I got five, ten years of employment records at school and they  gave a raise of salary for the duration of school employment.  We lived with my wife’s parents and we all contributed our salaries into our common family budget. We also had a vegetable garden where we grew potatoes.  There was a food store and a market in the village. We bought our first TV in 1968 after power supply wiring was installed in Komargorod. Our family was the first one to buy a TV set. We bought it on installments. I had seen a TV before when I went to take my exams in Odessa University. Our neighbors came to watch our TV. Our son had their characters, but they were kind to people, obedient and disciplined.  Alexandr went to school in 1955 and Leonid – in 1961. They studied with all excellent marks in my school. They had many friends. They spent their vacations at home for the most part. They were not demanding about buying things.  They understood our possibilities. We celebrated Soviet holidays: 1 May, October revolution Day and Victory Day.  New Year was a family holiday. We decorated a New Year tree when our sons were small.

After the ninth form Alexandr entered the Assistant Doctor Faculty in the medical School in Odessa. After finishing school he was recruited to the army. He served as chief of sanitary services in strategic Rocket army in Moscow regiment until 1971. After the army Alexandr worked in the ambulance unit in Mogilyov-Podolskiy for a long time. He married Inna, a Jewish girl. In 1972 their daughter Maya was born. They received miserable salaries. They earned 150 rubles per month: he, and his wife who was a nurse. Work in ambulance is very hard: he had to be a surgeon and a therapist or whoever else in one person. A small salary and huge responsibility. Alexandr got tired of this miserable salary and he volunteered to the army. He served as an ensign of medical services in Kleipeda. He received an apartment there and in 1978  their second daughter Svetlana was born.

In 1969 my wife, her mother Rosa Shraiman and my younger son Leonid moved to Mogilyov-Podolskiy. My father-in-law Moisey Shraiman died in 1955. In Mogilyov-Podolskiy we lived 8 years. We moved to Odessa in 1977. We bought this apartment where my wife and I live now. It’s our property. In Odessa I worked as a teacher at the railroad training school for locomotive operators. I taught political economy, basics of political studies and civil defense. I worked there teaching these three subjects for 12 years.  I retired at the age of 62 in 1988.

My younger son Leonid studied  in the evening school for working young people in Mogilyov-Podolskiy and worked as a laborer at the tinned food factory. After this school he entered Odessa School of Railroad Transport and finished it with a ‘red’ diploma [Diploma with a red cover issued to graduates that had all excellent marks. Other diplomas had a blue cover], and his profession was refrigeration car mechanic. He decided to continue his education and submitted documents to the Faculty of Public Economy Planning of the Odessa College of Public Economy. Since he had a ‘red’ diploma he was to take one exam and skip the others if he passed it with an excellent mark. He lost three kilograms in one day before this exam.  By that time, by that time, we already knew that there were limitations to the number of Jewish students. If he received a ‘4’ in his exams he was to take all other exams. And they would pluck him for sure at one of them. When he came out of the examination room and said that he had a ‘5’ he was on the edge of fainting. So was I. He finished his college successfully in 1978 and was allowed to chose his job assignment [16] location being one of the best graduates. He chose Odessa footwear association. He worked as a rate-setting engineer. Few months after he started work he was recruited to the army.  He served in Odessa regiment in the Crimea. After the army he returned to his factory. He was appointed a shop superintendent within a short period of time. Then he met Natasha Yudavina, a Jewish girl, who was an accountant in this association. Leonid was 28 years old and Natasha was nine years his junior.  They got married in 1982. After the wedding they lived with Natasha’s parents for some time. In 1983 their son Boris was born and they received an apartment in Frunze Street. In 1989 their second son Ruslan was born. Leonid became general director of the shoe association. During perestroika [17] the association crashed and he became unemployed. He received an unemployment allowance until he found a job of an economist on the outskirt of Odessa. In 1999 Leonid won competition for the position of assistant director in the Gemilut Hesed, a Jewish charity association in Odessa. V. Goldman, director of the association died in 2002 Leonid became director of Gemilut Hesed. His older son Boris studies in Odessa Academy of public Economy and his younger son Ruslan studies in the Jewish religious school ‘Or Sameach’ [18].

When in 1985 Gorbachev [19] came to power and perestroika began I was working as a teacher in the school for locomotive operators. My salary was 180 rubles before Gorbachev and it remained 180 rubles during his rule. Nothing changed in material way, but it was a different story when the USSR broke up [20] in 1991. This was liquidation of people’s lifetime savings. When my wife turned 55 in 1982 she began to receive a beggar’s pension of 15 rubles. We decided to deposit this pension to a bank when the USSR burst apart and so did our savings. Everybody in the country suffered at this time. Now the situation is different: there is mass unemployment and it has its impact on every family. A big state was created through centuries: by fair means or foul they managed to make it, but then they broke it apart. Ukraine became independent, but does it move ahead? What’s going on now? Chairman of Verkhovna Rada [Ukrainian Parliament] Has to close up their session because they begin to fight. They really begin to fight! Now they are thinking of having a group of police officers to help out the deputies who interfere with the legislation generation process. So there we are: this is independence.

In 1990 my older son Alexandr and his family moved to Odessa and settled down in Slobodka  [Neighborhood on the outskirts of Odessa]. His older daughter Maya got married. She has a son. Her husband was eager to move to Israel and they left here in. 1995. Alexandr’s younger daughter Svetlana followed them in 1997. When their both daughters were in Israel, Alexandr and his wife Inna decided to join them there. We all do sympathize with Israel very much, but when we discussed this issue in our family Leonid strongly refused to go to live there and my wife and I also wanted to stay here. Alexandr and Inna hesitated for a long time, but three years after Svetlana move there they went to Israel. Maya and her family and Inna and Alexandr live  together in Migdal Haemeq town in the north of Israel. Svetlana graduated from University in Haifa and married a former resident of Vinnitsa region. His name is Yuriy and he is a Jew.  In late 2002 Svetlana and Yuriy won a ‘green card’ lottery for residence in USA. Again there was consideration in the family. Should they go or should they ignore this card? In March last year Svetlana and Yuriy moved to USA. They live and work in San Francisco. Yuriy is a computer programmer and Svetlana also works in a company. They are happy now.

Perestroika gave a start to the rebirth of Jewish life in our town. I remember the first meeting of the Jewish community in the cinema theater ‘Sickle and hammer’ in Mizikevich Street in 1993. The situation was still alarming and we were guarded by a militia unit so that nothing happened, God forbid. The association of Jewish culture was established. Ten years passed. There are few dozens of such organizations and I can’t even name all of them. There are even more of them than needed. There used to be two hundred thousand Jews living in Odessa at some time and then there was fifty thousand of Jewish residents, but not now. However, there are two rabbis in Odessa. I think one would be sufficient.

My wife and I enjoy assistance of Gemilut Hesed. She receives monthly food packages as a former ghetto inmate. Sometimes the courier asks us: ‘Would you like me to help you with cleaning the house?’ We can still manage ourselves, though. When the synagogue in Osipov Street in the center of the town began to operate my wife and I went there on holidays several times, but in January 1998 I had a second heart attack. They actually returned me to life from another world. I stayed in the Jewish hospital 20 days after this heart attack. On the eve of my release from the hospital I had another heart attack. After this we didn’t go out since it’s difficult for me to seat somewhere for a long time.

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Glossary

[1] 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.

[2] 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.

[3] Romanian occupation of Odessa: Romanian troops occupied Odessa in October 1941. They immediately enforced anti-Jewish measures. Following the Antonescu-ordered slaughter of the Jews of Odessa, the Romanian occupation authorities deported the survivors to camps in the Golta district: 54,000 to the Bogdanovka camp, 18,000 to the Akhmetchetka camp, and 8,000 to the Domanevka camp. In Bogdanovka all the Jews were shot, with the Romanian gendarmerie, the Ukrainian police, and Sonderkommando R, made up of Volksdeutsche, taking part. In January and February 1942, 12,000 Ukrainian Jews were murdered in the two other camps. A total of 185,000 Ukrainian Jews were murdered by Romanian and German army units.

[4] 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.

[5] Torgsin stores: Special retail stores, which were established in larger Russian cities in the 1920s with the purpose of selling goods to foreigners. Torgsins sold commodities that were in short supply for hard currency or exchanged them for gold and jewelry, accepting old coins as well. The real aim of this economic experiment that lasted for two years was to swindle out all gold and valuables from the population for the industrial development of the country.

[6] 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.

[7] 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.

[8] Molotov, V. P. (1890-1986): Statesman and member of the Communist Party leadership. From 1939, Minister of Foreign Affairs. On June 22, 1941 he announced the German attack on the USSR on the radio. He and Eden also worked out the percentages agreement after the war, about Soviet and western spheres of influence in the new Europe.

[9] 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.

[10] Collectivization in the USSR: In the late 1920s – early 1930s private farms were liquidated and collective farms established by force on a mass scale in the USSR. Many peasants were arrested during this process. As a result of the collectivization, the number of farmers and the amount of agricultural production was greatly reduced and famine struck in the Ukraine, the Northern Caucasus, the Volga and other regions in 1932-33.

[11] Jewish collective farms: Such farms were established in the Ukraine in the 1930s during the period of collectivization.

[12] 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.

[13] 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.

[14] 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.

[15] Beriya, L. P. (1899-1953): Communist politician, one of the main organizers of the mass arrests and political persecution between the 1930s and the early 1950s. Minister of Internal Affairs, 1938-1953. In 1953 he was expelled from the Communist Party and sentenced to death by the Supreme Court of the USSR.

[16] Mandatory job assignment in the USSR: Graduates of higher educational institutions had to complete a mandatory 2-year job assignment issued by the institution from which they graduated. After finishing this assignment young people were allowed to get employment at their discretion in any town or organization.

[17] Perestroika (Russian for restructuring): Soviet economic and social policy of the late 1980s, associated with the name of Soviet politician Mikhail Gorbachev. The term designated the attempts 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 democratize the Communist Party organization. By 1991, perestroika was declining and was soon eclipsed by the dissolution of the USSR.

[18] Or Sameach school in Odessa: Founded in 1994, this was the first private Jewish school in the city after Ukraine became independent. The language of teaching is Russian, and Hebrew and Jewish traditions are also taught. The school consists of a co-educational primary school and a secondary school separate for boys and for girls. It has about 500 pupils every year.

[19] Gorbachev, Mikhail (1931): Soviet political leader. Gorbachev joined the Communist Party in 1952 and gradually moved up in the party hierarchy. In 1970 he was elected to the Supreme Soviet of the USSR, where he remained until 1990. In 1980 he joined the politburo, and in 1985 he was appointed general secretary of the party. In 1986 he embarked on a comprehensive program of political, economic, and social liberalization under the slogans of glasnost (openness) and perestroika (restructuring). The government released political prisoners, allowed increased emigration, attacked corruption, and encouraged the critical reexamination of Soviet history. The Congress of People’s Deputies, founded in 1989, voted to end the Communist Party’s control over the government and elected Gorbachev executive president. Gorbachev dissolved the Communist Party and granted the Baltic states independence. Following the establishment of the Commonwealth of Independent States in 1991, he resigned as president. Since 1992, Gorbachev has headed international organizations.

[20] Breakup of the USSR: Yeltsin in 1991 signed a deal with Russia’s neighbours that formalized the break up of the Soviet Union. The USSR was replaced by the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS).