Chapter VI
Kermine - Karkin Batash - Kitabo - Krasnowodsk
We arrived in Kermine during the night and conducted by Mr. Krycki struggled with our luggage through the dark streets toward the Polish Embassy. A fence surrounded small clay building. A small yard was now packed with people. Mostly women and children slept on the blankets spread on the sandy ground. There were no tents or any other shelter from the hot sun or cool nights. Enduring the desert climate was not the only difficulty. More and more people arrived. There was no more room in the yard. The town authorities decided to move us to the field on the higher ground. All this time, our two families stayed together while Mr. Krycki continued to travel and to trade.
In the middle of a large field, the portable kitchen served us some soup once a day. Even this little bit of food came from the rations allocated to the army, which meant that the soldiers were also underfed. Russians did not allow anymore food for the civilian population. There was constant talk that we would be sent again to other kolchozes to work. I shuddered thinking about it. The desperate flight from Kuybyszev was just over and we were too exhausted emotionally and physically to be able to endure a similar ordeal. I was very worried about Janek and my mother. Both of them were very weak. Something had to be done!
The army established "Junaki" (cadets). The main purpose was to gather as many as possible young boys, orphaned, separated from the parents or from the family who were not able to supply food, and to ship them to Persia at the first possible chance.
Filled with anxiety and fighting my shyness, I went to the army command to see a Colonel and to ask him to let Janek join the Junaki. My distress was overwhelming when I was told that no more boys were being taken. The Colonel was a kind man, but his hands were tied. However, he advised me to go to another Colonel who might be able to help although he had his doubts because Janek was too small and too young for the group. Adding two years to Janek's age might be helpful. Upon arrival into the office, a very handsome and truly gallant Captain met us. Having the rudeness of N.K.W.D. officers fresh in my mind, I was moved to tears by the kindness of this young man. The Colonel was also very pleasant and joked constantly. I think he sensed how nervous and frightened we both were. After asking some questions about the family and our latest history, which Janek had to answer by himself, (I was told not to help) my little brother was accepted into Junaki. Immediately he was asked to follow a small group of boys being marched to the Junaki camp. He looked so small (others were older). It nearly broke my heart to see him walking alone from me into his independent, but lonely future, which was to last many years.
Walking back to my mother, I was filled with anguish about how to tell her that Janek, her little boy, was not going to be with her anymore. I felt that this separation was necessary to save Janek's life. We were facing very uncertain future and if we were going to be sent to another kolchoz, at least Janek would not be subjected to starvation. However, being separated was difficult and my mother took it very hard. She was not well emotionally and physically and she needed to put the blame on someone for all the suffering that we endured. I was the closest person so she blamed me for sending her son away. I was also young and my responsibilities were more than I could cope with. My mother's reproaches made me very unhappy and yet I could understand her feelings.
The Persian borders were still closed which meant that no one could leave Russia. Thousands and thousands of people; children, women, and the elderly gathered on the field. We had to be fed, but there were no provisions. Evacuation to the kolchozes became a reality. Everyday the arbas came and the people were assigned to leave. I was frantically looking for a way out and was thinking of joining Junaczki (school for girls), but I could not let my mother to be taken to kolchoz alone. If I could only find some kind of work for my mother in Kermine! In despair, I turned to our very good friend, Mrs. Haciska, who joined forces with me. We did not leave a stone unturned. Luckily she knew a Captain who was in charge of an army laundry. The laundry job was considered to be very "prestigious" and was reserved mostly for the officers' wives or someone well connected. After all, it assured the closeness to the army and therefore facilitated the escape to Persia. In the meantime, it assured some meals no matter how small. It was difficult to imagine how relieved I was when the good Captain said, "Yes, your mother can have a job, however, she must have her own wash tub". The tub just like the one we left on the station before we boarded the train. My mother was right! It would have helped! Excitedly I began looking among the people and was lucky to find desperately needed tub which actually was never used. There were enough of those in the laundry.
Now my mother and Janek were taken care of. They had their food rations and a chance of leaving the hellish Kermine as soon as Russians would open their borders. I alone was not attached to anyone and had no food. Now was the time to do something about it. During the day I went to see people about being accepted into Junaczki, but it took weeks of waiting and knocking at many doors. Late in the afternoon, I went to my mother or Janek, who gave me a little bit of their food and than slept in the crowded field, now all-alone.
In the middle of May in 1942, I became a full-fledged "Junaczka". It meant leaving my mother and Janek in Kermine and going to Guzary, a distance of about 400 kilometers. Olek's parents being older were not sent to a kolchoz, but were still in Kermine, hoping to join their son in the near future. But the epidemic of typhoid claimed their lives a few months after my departure. Both our families were affected by this tragedy.
My two very good friends, Olenka and Zosia Haciski and I were a part of a few hundred girls traveling to a deserted village near Guzar. The name of this village was Karkin Batasz, which meant "The Valley of Death". It acquired its name when all the inhabitants died during the struggle for freedom and epidemic of unknown illness. Now empty, dirty, and dusty, it became our home.
Thousands of children were coming to be close to the army. They had to walk long distances or hitch a ride on the train, truck, or mule "arba". Often an older child brought smaller ones with him because their parents died and there was no one to take care of them. Torn clothes and rags in place of shoes covered little skeletons that were supposed to be children. Hundreds died trying to reach the army camps and as many perished after their arrival.
There were many army posts scattered over southern Russia; Kujbyszew, Tockoje, Narpaj, Wrewskoje, Lugowaja, Czokpak, Kitab, Karkin Batasz, Guzary Kitab, Dzatat-Abad, Guzar, Tatiszczaho, Czkaton, Kottubianka, Szachryzjabs, Kermine, Margelan Tergama, The army command was located in Jang-Jul.
While my mother and Janek stayed in Kermine, I had to travel to Karkin Batasz where "Jumaczki" had their camp. Percentage wise, Karkin Batasz was the most deadly place. Small village in the middle of the hot desert (already in April, the temperature reached 35ºC) had only one well which produced ten buckets of water a day while in June, the camp housed 1,036 Junaczki. We lived in the huts or in the tents. Terrible sanitary conditions, lack of water, dirt, and heat contributed to the outbreak of night blindness, dysentry, typhoid epidemic, and even cholera. Emanated bodies could not fight the diseases. Karkin Batasz lived up to its name of "The Valley of the Death". The girls died everywhere, even in the toilet. Some even walked away from the camp hoping to escape the misery and died in the desert. Most of the time, they were found too late. One of the girls was not found for months until the well dried out (during the summer months) and her body was discovered there. Often at night, I heard one of my friends cry out in pain and all I could do was to take her to the infirmary where she was put on the mat among other dying girls. Very few of them survived. There was no medicine. The nurses gave some comfort, but really they were working in desperate conditions. Hundreds of girls died in this terrible place. Their bodies were wrapped in the blanket, a name tag was attached to the foot before they were buried (often in group graves) in the hot unfriendly Uzbec soil.
Our commandant, Ms. Teodora Sychowska went to the army authorities asking for removing the girls from Karkin Batasz, but there was much opposition from the Russian authorities. Finally in July, (I came to K.B. in May) 460 of us were moved to Guzar. The tents were located among the trees and there was more water so we could even wash ourselves. The air was better and the breathing easier. After few weeks, we were told that General Tokarzwski accepted us as a part of his division. We were happy to board the train, which took us to Kitabo, and than the army trucks took us to kolchoz Molotow. Our camp was beautifully located among the trees by the river Kaszka, Daria. We resumed our classes sitting in the shade of the trees and our hearts were filled with gladness and hope. Better food and medical help were instrumental in the halt of epidemics.
However, little did we suspect that another disaster (there were so many in that inhuman Soviet land) was around the corner. The area close to the river was filled with mosquito carrying malaria. Within a few weeks, all 460 Junaczski's and small children in the orphanage became very ill with malaria. There was not enough quinine to control the disease and we were given this medication only on the days when fever crossed the 40ºC. Lying on the blankets in the shade of the trees, which helped to cool our burning bodies, we looked after each other; bringing water and watching over those who were delirious and tried to get the water by themselves. I caught one friend hanging over the well trying to get some water with a cup, too sick to realize that the well was deep and she could have drowned.
Our teachers tried to conduct the lessons (without textbooks or any other materials) to keep our minds off our troubles for we also worried about our families scattered all over. I knew that there was an epidemic in Kermine and that Janek was very ill. We were told that we may be soon leaving Soviet Union and it made us very happy. It was also known that the sick would be left behind. I knew that my mother would not leave Janek behind and that they both may be forced to stay in Russia. The thought of it made me sick at heart and robbed me of my sleep, which did not help my body weakened by frequent malaria attacks.
The time has a way of marching on even in the most difficult circumstances. Before we realized, August was coming to an end. We heard that finally the Russians let the evacuation of the army begins again, but since we were the farthest post, we were going to be evacuated last. Therefore, to the end, we did not let our hopes rise being afraid that the Soviet authorities may once again close the border before we reach there. However, preparations were in progress. The army barbers came and cut our hair very short (they even enjoyed spoiling our looks). Wearing army uniforms, (pants, shirts, and huge black laced shoes) we looked like boys!
Finally the day of the departure came. We all held our breath while we packed and were taken by trucks to the train station. The multitude of people (soldiers, civilians and us) were crowded in the small area. The line-ups to the toilets were very long and we had to suffer some agonies because of that. There were no washing facilities.
One of my friends, Irena was left behind. She became ill with a sleeping sickness and was not allowed to travel. Being delirious, she did not know of her fate and died a few days later. Her mother and sister came to say good-bye only a few days before and left her in good health, making plans to meet in Persia. The sickness came very quickly and the death put a stop to all the wonderful plans for the future. At that time the members of Irena's family were not aware of the tragedy.
Finally the train came and we were packed into it like sardines. No one worried about the lack of comfort. It was important to take everyone with us and to get away form this hell on earth.
The evacuation took two phases. In April of 1942, 31,189 army and 12,408 civilians and in August to September, 43,746 army and 26,094 civilians left from Krasnowoolzk to Persia via Caspian Sea. Land transport from Aszchabad to Meszhedu included 116,131 with 20,000 children. Only 1/10 of arrested and deported people from Poland left Soviet Union. God placed us among those fortunate ones.
The train seemed to crawl as it was going through the mountainous part of Uzbekistan on its way to Krasnowodzk a seaport on the Caspian Sea. As our anxious minds were busily working, we imagined that the pace was slower than it should have been. Were the Russians doing that on purpose? Would they still change their mind and prevent us from going to Persia?
After a few days of difficult journey, the train finally arrived at its destination. Under the heat of a desert sun, the girls were deposited on the sand about a 1/2-mile from the Caspian Sea. Whenever the wind blew, our eyes and mouth were filled with sand. There was no water and the thirst was unbearable. The barter for water with the local people was forbidden because it was contaminated and caused dysentery. Unfortunately some of the girls disobeyed the rules and became very ill. At night the temperatures dropped slightly. Unclean and too tired to care, we spread our blankets and went to sleep. During the night, the strong wind covered us deeply with sand. Early in the morning, one could hear coughing, sneezing, and gasping for breath as the girls tried to dig themselves out from under the blankets of sand. How much longer would we have to stay here? No one had an answer to this question.
The need for a bath was evident. The Caspian Sea looked so inviting. Why not take a swim? It was only a short walk and the desired cleanliness was within our reach. But the result was a shock. What a disaster! Out of the seemingly clean water, girls emerged covered with oil with their hair standing up like wire. Combing it out proved to be impossible. For the first time (since Molotov where it was cut soldier's style), we were pleased that our hair was so short. Caspian sea "shared" with us its treasures of oil and salt, but its surface gave our images very unflattering appearance of the young girls who tried to suppress their humiliation expressing their despair by the way of a hysterical laughter. Still, being young, one could always hope for a brighter future. It could hold for us a time when we would become sophisticated young ladies capable of turning young men's heads, at least deserving a second look. But at the moment, we felt very unattractive!
Finally around the noon hour, we were told to begin our march to the seaport Krasnowodzk. The heat at the time was intense and a lack of drinking water made that trip of five kilometers very exhausting. Heavy soldiers' uniform and equipment weakened bodies, hunger, and thirst added to the aggravation. Uncomfortable heavy boots soon caused blisters on our feet. Many girls fainted, some hallucinated. Even now I still seem to remember going through the villages under the green trees which of course were only creations of exhausted mind and body. However, with the help of Guardian Angels, after hours, we arrived at our destination. Thousands of people were going aboard. Waiting in line, I felt my heart either stood still or raced violently. Being so close and yet so far was frightening. What if there was not enough room for all? It was the last ship before the Russians would close its borders. Praying constantly brought some relief.
Finally my feet were on the first plank of the platform. Trudging slowly along with my friends, we were shown a small area where we fell down. Feeling of paralysis caused by strong emotions and physical exhaustion was felt in every part of my body. The small ship was packed so tight that there was no room to sit down. Anyone could see that it was overloaded. What if it sank? The Russians would not come to the rescue. Such humane gesture was foreign to them. What news would await me in Persia even if I would be lucky to get there? Did my mother and Janek make this journey? What if they were left behind? All these doubts and questions were more of a torture than immediate surroundings. To get to the washroom was another battle. After reaching them, one could not use them because they were so dirty. In 26 hours, I used the washroom only once suffering a lot of discomfort for most of the time. Due to malaria attack, my temperature rose to 41ºC and still there was no water to drink. Only tightly packed bodies of other girls kept me in the upright position when I was sliding down from weakness. There was no help or medication. If there were doctors or nurses on board, we did not know how to reach them. Communication was impossible and everyone tried to take care of themselves the best they could. The journey lasted 26 hours.
Suddenly someone cried out, "Pahlevi, Pahlevi!" Thank God, we made it! We were in Persia! The nightmare of the Soviet Russia and perilous journey was over! It was difficult to understand where the energy came from, but I managed to place my belongings and myself on a truck, which took us to the camp on the sandy beach by the Caspian Sea. The question, "Are mother and Janek there?" tortured my mind again, but the answer to it came very quickly and unexpectedly. The truck stopped. "Is Alina Lukaszewicz here?" asked one of the soldiers. "Yes, she is", someone answered for me. It was Antek, a friend from Russia. He helped me step down and said, "Your mother and Janek are here". The strong feeling of relief was overpowering and it took all my strength to keep from crying.
Soon my mother and I were reunited and spent many hours walking on the beach and sharing the news of the past few months since our parting in Kermine in April. Janek, however, left for Iraq. It made me sad. I was looking forward to seeing him. But he was out of Russia and that was most important.
Next day the malaria attack intensified and there was still no medication. Mother stayed by my side but it was difficult to have a conversation with a half conscious victim of that terrible disease. The fever lasted for a few days while mother was in Pahlevi. Soon she left for Teheran. We had so little time together. Little did we know that we would not see each other again. Mother left for Africa before I came to Teheran. Not knowing what future held in store, we felt it would be better for me to remain in Junaczki where the education would be available. We were hoping for more time in Teheran where it was possible to get more information about the settlements in Africa. However, such was not the case, travel and communication was difficult and the information came slowly. Although we left the inhuman land, our family was still separated with its members scattered on various continents.