INGULF BOSS


From Wilno To Siberia

INGULF BOSS

Sister Lilianna, father Nikolaj & Alexandra

INGULF BOSS

Mother's friend Rosa, puppy Asa &Alexandra

It was the last week of March 1951 and the first week after Easter, which we spent with my
maternal grandmother and grandfather in Stasily. I was almost 4 years old, I enjoyed village life,
and my parents left me there, while they, with my younger sister Alexandra, returned to Wilno
where my mother worked in a financial office, and my father worked in a communal enterprise
outside the city.
On Saturday, March 31. my mother was surprised when she found my father at home when she
returned from work because he was planning to spend the night at work and return home on
Sunday morning. My parents were tired and conversation was limping along when they learned
that a woman who was working with the NKWD (later called KGB), wanted to see my mother.
She wanted to see my mother immediately and tell her something important. They knew each
other from the hospital when my mother was giving birth to Ola (pronounced Åla - short for
Alexandra in Polish). The woman delivered her first baby. Afterwards they had not contacted
each other, so her sudden contact was somewhat astonishing. In spite of Mother's
unfriendliness towards people from those circles. It was clear that my mother should not treat
the invitation lightly. Mother decided to see her next day, as she was tired and did not want
travel to the other end of town, where the woman lived.
Later we found out that the woman tried to warn us about a deportation planned for us by
the Soviet officials. We probably could have prevented the deportation if the information had
reached us in time. At that time sometimes it happened that people would hide wherever they
could, with good people, in the forest, in order to avoid being deported.
For us fate prepared a hard and depressing future as Sybiraks. Late in the evening in our
apartment at Artyleryjska Street, lights were tuned off and we went to sleep. At three o' clock
in the morning suddenly someone was banging at the front door and the kitchen door. They
ordered us to open the door and ran into the house. They were armed soldiers from the NKWD
(KGB). My father asked what they wanted, and they asked for our passports. After they
identified my parents and my paternal grandparents they ordered us to pack things.
They told us that we would be deported into the far eastern soviet republics. My father
wanted to know the reason and exactly where they were going to be deported, but the only
answer he received was: "You will see yourself."
At home chaos was created, my mother was so shocked she packed everything she could put
her hands on. Awakened little Ola (Alexandra) started to cry, and feeling something strange
she cried nonstop. My dad took over the packing chores while my mother was taking care of
Ola.(Alexandra) The grandparents seemed to be more in control. They put together the most
needed items and family souvenirs but they were not allowed to take it all, and were told to
leave the valuable items and also large items.
At the same time my parents were discussing what to do with me. I was with my maternal
grandparents in Stasily. Should they take me for the deportation or should they leave us
without parents and siblings? Father asked Mother to decide, and she concluded that family
should not be separated, and children should be together so they would not become strangers
to each other.
Today from the perspective of many years I believe that was the correct decision made under
tremendous pressure. In spite of the hardship, closeness of the family cannot be substituted by
anything.

The task of bringing me was delegated to aunt Tusia, the eighteen year old sister of my
mother. Aunt Tusia studied in a gymnasium in Wilno and she luckily was not subject for
deportation. Shaken, she went to Stasily with this terrible news to pick me up. In the meantime,
my parents with Ola(Alex) and grandparents were escorted to the railroad station at Ponary,
where it was known that Jews were murdered during the Nazi occupation. In Ponary a cattle
train was waiting. It consisted of about 80 cars. Into one of them my family was loaded with all
our luggage. In Stasily the news of our deportation was received as thunder from heaven.
Grandfather started to pack food, which was very useful in our journey, and we shared the food
with other deportees.
Grandmother was with me, and I was eating breakfast without realizing the seriousness of our
situation. Grown-ups were whispering and wondering where they were transporting us. At one
moment they said "White bears". I started to jump with joy in my childish mind that somewhere
there were white cuddly bears waiting for us. I remember I could not understand why nobody
shared in my enthusiasm. Why were their faces so tense, serious, and sad? Grandmother was
crying, so I promised her I would return soon,
When everything was ready the grandparents took me to the Ponary Station in a provided car.
We were driven through forests where the weather was beautiful and it smelled like spring. I
was sitting on the lap of aunt Tusia, who after a nervous and sleepless night was holding
bravely, but later on her head I noticed gray hair. The car was in a poor shape but carried us to
our destination. We could see brown carriages of the train. It was difficult to see where was the
beginning and where was the end of the train.
After all formalities I was handed through a narrow space between almost closed doors. I
remember the pain as they pushed me forcefully through. I could not cry. Apparently on my
child's face with wide open eyes, there was an expression of fear. Then they locked the doors,
escorts were shouting commands, and the train moved.
Mother was in a state of shock and exhaustion, and she fainted. She was regarding her senses
when someone shouted: "Ostra Brama". Everybody ran to the holes (windows) in the walls,
everybody wanted once again to see the holy place. They were looking for some hope, they
were praying to our Holy Mother for help, care, and freedom. But not everyone was destined to
return to her temple. Many forever were lost in distant lands. Mother, at the time a young 24
year old woman, was overtaken by a tragic emotion, that at this moment something had ended
in a not returnable way.
The carriages smelled of cattle. In each one there were eight families with little children.
Among them were Poles, Lithuanians, Byelorussian and some Jews. The inside was somewhat
prepared for transporting people. At both ends of the carriage there were huge shelves, under
them the floor was covered with straw. More or less in the center was a toilet uncovered for all
to see, so we covered it with blankets to avoid embarrassment.
Also there was an iron stove, heated with wood loaded during various stops. The stove did not
provide enough heat, so we were cold and we were going to get colder until we were freezing.
After first introductions we learned that there were only Poles in our carriage. Men without
exception were members of "Armia Krajowa" or in the army of General Anders. They suspected
that their participation in any of these armies (the same forces who fought the Nazis side by
side with allied troupes to free Europe) were the main reasons for their deportation which also
involved innocent women and children. According to that assumption my family obviously was
destined for the deportation, My grandfather was from Anders' army, my father was an officer
from Armia Krajowa, and my mother served as a (liaison) "laczniczka" (messenger for the
underground movement against the Nazis)
Probably those were sufficient reasons for repression, but there must be also others, e.g., the
desire for utilization of Siberian steppes and putting some population there. The reasons had
not changed the horror and cruelty resulting in tragic fates of families and individuals.

We were transported to the unknown destination and nobody from the escort, armed soldiers
of NKWD (KGB), cared whether we had anything to eat or not. Two days after the beginning of
the journey we stopped in Witebsk. Two people with buckets from each carriage had t get out
to bring soup and several loaves of black bread. For children there was cream of wheat cooked
solid.
Afterwards the train was going through sidetracks avoiding larger cities. Father observed the
position if the sun and was relieved by the realization that we were transported east and not
north. Once a day we were stopped in the middle of the forest. After 15 - 20 minutes we were
ordered to return to the train. After checking that nobody escaped we moved again. We were
eating whatever we brought with us. Once a day we were getting hot water to drink; every
second or third day we were getting soup with dark bread or grits.
Sometimes when we stopped, local people were coming to the train, and then whoever had
any money could buy some food, mostly it was cheese. After a few days we noticed the
disappearance of our belongings. The soldiers were stealing them. They were very bad, mean
and vile.
To this day I remember an event which happened during one of our stops. It was a beautiful
day and my grandmother placed me in front of the open window. I could see the forest in the
sun, and the soldiers without their shirts washing themselves in washbowls. They were in a good
mood, laughing and joking. Suddenly one of them grabbed his washbowl with dirty water and
splashed it into my face. I do not need to comment on this, only I add, the trauma of that
remains to this day.
Eighteen days from the start, the train stopped at a station. It was standing for quite a long
time, so we were guessing it was the end of our journey. Finally trucks started to come and
unload people from the train. We learned that the station was called Bielaja, and the place
where we were going is called Tajturka, not far from the town Usolje in Irkuck County. In
Tajturka families with children were placed in a commercial building "Klub", while the other
families were put into tents.
"Klub" was designed for cultural life, where films were shown, meetings took place, and where
people came to play. I remember, we were sitting on the floor, each family among their bundles.
It was late, and I wanted to sleep but they chased us to take showers. Afterwards they asked
us t sign the documents stating that we agree out of our free will to remain in this place.
People started to object, they were afraid to sign. They thought they would loose their chance
to return home. The situation was very tense and we were not sure what would happen. My
grandfather saved the situation. He was deported before and he had signed such an agreement.
HE assured everybody that their signature will not have any effect on their possibility to return
home.
Very soon they created a medical center, where all deportees were checked and selected for
all kinds of work. Afterwards they started to place us in rooms, four grown ups and two children
in one small room. Behind the wall made of blankets and full of holes lived a young married
Russian couple with a small child who cried all the time so we could not sleep. We found later,
that the man understood Polish and he was supposed to listen to us and give a report to
NKWD(KGB). That way they would prevent any rebellion.
Those were the conditions of the drama of our life in Siberia behind Lake Bajkal, which lasted
six years. We experienced a lot during that time. Each one of us was sick with some type of
disease. Mother, father and my sister almost died. Grandfather became blind. Almost every day
was a battle to survive in this terrible climate and connected with cataclysms. During the first
years, the large cemetery located outside of the settlement was getting bigger. Crosses were
the only indication that Christian deportees were buried there.
Many men were sent to forced labor camps (lagry) for expressing their views. I remember that
such a threat was hanging over my father. There were some brighter moments, when we
cultivated our Polish traditions for Holiday celebrations.

One cold night in February 1955 my brother was born. Today he is a surgeon. He is the
youngest Sybirak in Poland. In 1957 we were the last deportees to return to Poland from
Tajturki. We were given permission to leave only after my father signed a document demanding
that we would never tell or write about his experiences
It is impossible to write about all that happened in this short story. There is enough material
to write a book, which I intend to write
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© 2009 ALEX Music Inc.

INGULF BOSS

My mother before Siberia in our house in Wilno

INGULF BOSS

My mother and colleuges still holding up after a year in

harsh environments

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My mother in Siberia at her desk