MARIA JUREWICZ

Maria Jurewicz, born on 14 October 1907, teacher at public elementary schools.

I was arrested on 29 April 1940 in Zieniewicze village, Wsielub commune, Nowogródek district. Two NKVD representatives conducted a search of my rented apartment in the landlady’s presence. Private correspondence and documents were confiscated. The reasons for the arrest were not disclosed. I spent three days in the NKVD and militia station in the commune town of Lubcz nad Niemnem along with a group of local men who’d also been arrested. After three days, at night, we were taken to Nowogródek. They stayed in prison there, while I was sent away directly to Baranowicze. There, I stayed in the NKVD’s custody until 22 June. The investigator demanded a declaration of my attitude towards Soviet authorities, and then began a series of lectures about the necessity to deport farmers, forest workers, military and police families to the USSR. He touched on the subjects of the power, weaponry and moral strength of the Red Army (giving a recent Soviet victory in Finland as an example), German-Soviet friendship and the rotten Western European culture of England and France, which – according to him – Polish culture was drawn to.

Now I realize why he mentioned these things. The reason for my arrest wasn’t being denunciated by the villagers, who – even though they were Byelorussians, and under strong communist influence (the most communism-oriented part of the Wsielub commune), knowing that I was a Pole and had worked for so many years in a Polish school – never caused me any distress. There were always people whom I could get along with. The only hostile attitudes I encountered were the speeches of youth groups, the most prone to Soviet influence. The actual reason for my arrest were my letters sent to one of my colleague teachers who was staying in an internment camp in Lithuania. In the letters, apart from personal matters, writing with milk, I included some news about brutal methods of deporting settlers and forest workers, and about the Red Army being defeated in Finland (which I learned from English and French radio news). I also wrote about the atmosphere in Soviet school. The investigating officer’s lectures regarded these topics exactly. Further interrogations were usually carried out at night. He demanded an account of attitudes and views of the local Polish teachers especially fiercely. Despite the dissatisfying answers he received, he acted calm and did not use brutal methods. After a couple of weeks, another officer started to interrogate me; using a method of mocking the dreams of great Poland and the belief in its existence, he chose headlines from newspapers and read excerpts about failures of the allied forces in Norway. Often, you could hear a bunch of disgusting curses at Polish lords and officers from his mouth. Sometimes it seemed like he would actually dare to hit me. When he finally read excerpts from my letters to me and I knew for sure that he had put his hands on them, I stated that I was the one who wrote them and the opinions included in them were my actual views. This ended the interrogation and I was sent to prison.

In the NKVD’s detention facility, there was only one cell for women. There were only Poles in it. The majority of them were arrested for crossing the Soviet-Lithuanian border. The reasons for that action varied: some wanted to join their families, others feared arrest and deportation to Russia, yet others did it for some secret organization matters; a very small percentage were profiteers. The reason for the latter [crime] was lack of material means to sustain their families. There were also more than a dozen women thrown out of Wilno due to lack of documents proving their registered address in the city for a certain number of years. Some were arrested for taking part in the singing of “God Save Poland” after a May mass in Wilno churches. The Lithuanian police brought these people to the Soviet border and told them to go and avoid Soviet patrols. This was obviously impossible and they fell into their hands, got arrested and were transported to prison. After several months, some of them were released, and some were deported to Russia. The political ones (those taking part in the singing) stayed in prison. Individuals arrested at the border had already undergone a series of interrogations, often very hard, at the outposts closer to the border. In the Baranowicze NKVD headquarters, the investigations were concluded, so usually they were carried out calmly. Besides the “borderwomen”, there were a couple dozen young girls, usually gimnazjum and high school students from Lida, Stołbce, or Grodno, arrested for membership of secret organizations. They were subject to more rigid interrogations. When they opposed, refusing to reveal the organizations’ members, they were deprived of the right to contact their families (mostly receiving parcels – writing letters was forbidden). Reports of confessions of other members were read to them, even though they had not yet been arrested. They were given fake news about their families. The interrogations took place day and night; they could last for a dozen hours without a break, with investigators taking turns. Punishment cells were used.

Towards men, all these methods were intensified. There was no medical care at the NKVD. The ill received no help. In a cell meant for four people, there were often 15. Bathing and walks didn’t happen for several months. Food rations were as follows: in the morning – hot water and 600 grams of bread, at noon – krupnik boiled on fish or lights, in the evening – the same soup. The news of the national and world affairs reached us only through the newly arrested. There was always a connection with the surrounding cells by Morse [code] or a hole drilled in the wall. Sometimes we could get hold of a piece of a Soviet newspaper. We were transported to the prison outside of the town in a roofed car, [whose interior was] divided into tiny cells. It was popularly referred to as sobacznik.

In the beginning, the female prisoners were placed in four cells (23, 25, 29, 32). As more people arrived, it was more and more dense (in a cell meant for 12 people – 54, in a cell for 6 people – from 27 to 30). Women fainted from the heat. Each night some of us had to stay awake, as there was no place to lie on the floor. Food rations were the same as in the NKVD [jail]. We went for walks several times a week, to a small square fenced with boards. Bathing was possible about every 10 days. During that period, the women usually didn’t fall severely ill. There were beds in the military infirmary, a doctor would come over, but he had little means for treatment. The food rations [in the infirmary] were the same as in the cells.

Women in every cell went on hunger strikes, demanding above all that the problem of crowdedness be solved. Finally, the prison authorities met these demands and the women from all the four cells (around 160) were placed in a big room, which used to be a dining room for prisoners. From there, on 28 June 1940, the first transport of prisoners (60 females) was deported to the USSR. They were in prison in Orsha, and the majority were then deported to a labor camp in Potma.

Right after their departure (in the first days of July 1940), a wave of arrests of the so-called bieżenkas followed. They were usually Jewish women from the parts of Poland occupied by Germany. They came east fleeing from bombardments and German persecution. Only some of them, young communists, crossed the German-Soviet border hoping to be fine under the Red Army’’ occupation. They were all deported to Russia in August 1940.

There were still exclusively Polish women in the prison. Composition of the group was similar to the one back in the NKVD’s jail. Over and over, one of us would be called to hear a sentence and would never come back. The transports departed regularly, once a month, until October. At that time, a typhoid epidemic broke out in men’s cells. Probably that’s why the transports stopped. All of November we weren’t taken out for walks. We also couldn’t go to the lavatory. About 90 women had to meet their physiological needs on paraszka. It was a punishment for the exchanging of messages on the walls of the lavatory. Most of us were ill with avitaminosis and scabies. A nurse came every day, but she had no resources.

With no inflow or outflow of prisoners, there were about 80 women in the cell for a longer period of time. We tried, despite the harshest conditions, to organize some cultural life. It consisted of telling each other the books we’d read (fiction, travel stories, historical books), we tried to set up evenings which would involve singing, declamation of the remembered pieces, plays. These things could be performed thanks to the huge number of prisoners and the big room – it was possible to hide it from the janitors’ sight. In September, more than a dozen young girls arrested for membership of an organization had arrived – they were engaged the most in those activities. Apart from Poles, there were Jewish women in the cell. Their attitude toward Poles was absolutely fine. They respected our feelings, helped us in various works during holidays, and we also treated their ceremonies with esteem. It was different with the Lithuanians in our cell who came from Ejszyszki (Lida district). They thought Poland was harassing Lithuanians as an ethnic minority and that now they had an opportunity to take revenge. Two of them got released, two were deported to Russia.

We weren’t allowed to write letters to our families. If the family knew about the place their relative was placed in, after a long and continuous effort, they were able to send a parcel with clothes and food. The most severe punishments (such as incarceration in a punishment cell) were meted out for trying to get in touch with other prisoners. After hearing the sentence, we were taken to another cell.

I was taken in a transport that left Baranowicze on 4 March 1941. My sentence was five years of work in labor camps. There were a couple hundred men going in the transport, and just eight of us females. Four of them I have not seen in Iran or Iraq so far. These are: Janina Borejsza and Janina Jałyńska from Weronowo, arrested for belonging to an organization and sentenced to eight years of labor, Scholastyka Sznigiro from Przewor[…] settlement in Lida district, arrested and sentenced to eight years for hiding a settler in her house, who killed a militia man while escaping, and Maria Kłódkowska from near Wilno, arrested for crossing the border and smuggling machorka [Nicotiana rustica]. The transport conditions were very hard – we were fed with salted fish and bread, but didn’t receive enough water. For five days, we didn’t get any hot water or warm meals.

In Orsha, we were joined with Polish women from Grodno, Brześć and Minsk prisons. Overall, there were around 180 women traveling. There were forty-something of us in each freight wagon. Now we were receiving hot water, bread and some sugar every day. Every several days they served hot soup (millet). Despite using the stove, we suffered from cold at nights because we didn’t have any warm clothing. The worst part was the lack of washing water – scabies and lice were widespread. Nobody in the women’s transport died on the way, but there were a few cases of the flu. The doctor came every day, but he couldn’t help much, as he didn’t have medicine.

On 27 March 1941, we were brought to Karabas station (North Kazakhstan, Karaganda Region). The labor camp was situated a couple of kilometers from the station. We were lodged in dark, dirty barracks along with Russian women. The worst plague were the bedbugs. There were loads of them in the gaps in the walls and in beds. The barracks were surrounded with barbed wire. We entered the courtyard through a guardhouse. At night, dogs that moved alongside the fence on chains watched the barracks. It was the so-called distribution point. From here, we were going to be sent to different agricultural farms. Food rations at the time consisted of 400 grams of bread, half a liter of soup in the morning and a liter of soup at noon.

Soviet women were usually the so-called szułman – robbers. Various belongings of the Polish women disappeared at night, mainly clothes. Reports about this forced [the authorities] to move us to another barrack. Before we were sent to work, there was a medical examination, but it was really brief – usually you would get a t.t. category, which meant tiażołyj trud.

I was assigned to the Bedoik farm along with a couple dozen of Polish and Russian women. It consisted of several adjoining agricultural farms. Poles were usually involved in gardening. Not me, because I was considered to be physically weaker. I got under the so-called konwojka. We walked to work under an escort. First, we were painting all the barracks in the camp on the outside and the inside. Then – melioration, that is regulating the river borders and building dams which would channel the water to irrigate the gardens. The quota in digging and moving out ground was very high. Usually we would fill up to 50 percent of it. In that case, the food rations were: in the morning – half a liter of soup, at noon – 500 grams of bread, soup, and some groats. The supper was given only to those who filled the full quota. Work went on for 10 hours, with a 2-hour break for dinner. By the end of May, I left for haymaking at a farm called Akszagat. There were only a couple of Poles there, and they worked in the so-called saman production. With difficulties, they attained the norms, but they didn’t get the due remuneration. The farm bred sheep. There were around five thousand of them. At the time, they were located on the steppes in the so-called hurtas. Jobs on the farm involved clearing the depots of manure, which would later be used as burning fuel. The norms were unattainable. Dry manure, cut into squares – so-called kiziak, was piled up, while the manure coming from the straw was put in heaps. Working with the manure in the depots was dangerous, as there was a risk of contracting an illness called brucellosis. Sheep and cows were suffering from it. All the prisoners, including the guards and the foreman, were also sick. The illness is characterized by a highly variable temperature and joint aches. It goes on for a very long time and keeps recurring. It’s diagnosed, like malaria, by inspecting the eyebrows. Among the Poles, one woman got ill with brucellosis.

We went out into the steppes for haymaking. We lived in shelters, the kitchen was outside. For some time, men and women lived together in the shelters. Work went on from dusk till dawn (about 16 hours), with a short dinner break. Women worked with kosiłkis and rakes drawn by a tractor, at gathering up the hay, at piling it up, with kosiłkis drawn by cattle or horse-drawn hay rakes. Those working around the tractors, hay rakes and kosiłki usually filled the quota. Those gathering up the hay would fill around 50 percent. Rations were as follows: in the morning – soup and hot water, at noon – soup and some groats or a flour pie, in the evening – soup. If you fulfilled the quotas, you would get 900 grams of bread, if not – the amount of bread would be decreased proportionally to the percentage of work done. Normirowszczyce who summed up Poles’ performance were unfair, always writing down a smaller percentage.

The political prisoners lived in a separate barrack on the farm. These were usually wives of arrested men, intelligent ladies. Poles were usually placed there. During the haymaking period, everybody had to live together with the szałman, though. The guards didn’t really respond to the thievery. We were lacking washing water. Bathing happened only on the rainy and windy days, and we had to walk several kilometers to another farm.

When the German-Soviet war broke out at the end of June, bread rations were decreased to 700 grams for a fully attained norm. In late July, all Poles were moved under konwojka. We walked to work in the gardens and in melioration. The quotas were heightened. It was possible to do around 40 percent. Food rations similar to those under konwojka before – but soups were rare. We found out about the amnesty in the first days of July. The first group of the released departed on 2 September. I set off for Karabas with the second group on 20 September. There, almost all of us were set free, but two from each group were halted. I was among them. Nobody explained why. I think it was because I was born in Minsk Litewski district. With no work, we awaited release until 20 October. The barracks were dirty, full of bedbugs, crowded. Food rations: 400 grams of bread, half a liter of soup in the morning and a liter at noon. From 20 October, we were working in a vegetable storehouse. The work took 10 hours at day or night (shifts changed every five days). Bread rations were raised to 600 grams a day.

We weren’t allowed to make any appeals for release. The first group was released on 27 December 1942. The period between release and joining the army was extremely hard. We had no clothes, no shoes, no money to buy food, even if some food was available if you waited in lines. Polish posts were just beginning to organize. There was no work to secure the most basic needs. After a journey through Petropavlovsk and Novosibirsk, I found myself in a transport led by our native authorities from Jambyl. But we couldn’t be placed anywhere after arriving. We went to Frunze. In the face of lack of other work, a group of about 100 Polish men and women applied for work at road construction near Kara-Balta station. When we arrived, it turned out it wasn’t road construction, but they were building a labor camp in the mountains near Sosnówka village. The work was very hard: digging the frozen ground, carrying clay to the roofs etc. Nobody could fill the quotas and nobody earned enough to cover the expenses of feeding (400 grams of bread, and soup twice a day). The majority didn’t have the right clothing nor footwear to work. Some stole, while others walked around the neighboring kolkhozes asking for bread. The men being drafted (10th Infantry Division, Lugovoy) put an end to this situation. We, lonely women, also attempted to get into the Women Auxiliary Service. It was the only way to escape the straying and the only way to work for our own people. Thanks to a delegate of the Republic of Poland, who arranged a transport to Lugovoy for us, where a WAS company commandant said she knew me from prison and confirmed my personal data, I was accepted into WAS in mid-February 1942.

None of the women who had been in prison with me died, but a 19-year-old high school student from Prużana, Halina Cepryńska, was sentenced to death. The sentence wasn’t carried out at the time of our deportation. She was still staying in a death cell.

In the military infirmary one woman, whose surname we didn’t know, died.

In the labor camps, Maria Jaszczułt was sentenced to death. Whether the punishment was executed, I don’t know – I haven’t met her anywhere so far. Many of the released in Karabas are missing, though. And here, many of the women died after being released from the labor camps. It was the hardest time. Joining the Women Auxiliary Service saved lives of many women.