EDR and the Great Trek

The Great Trek

We left Paulsheim on September 12, 1943 on a long trek and arrived in the Warthegau district of German-occupied Poland on March 12, 1944. Three times in the course of the winter we were quartered in Russian villages. This delayed our journey considerably. My husband walked with the help of two canes because his legs were so stiff, and this made the long journey difficult. We traveled together with Val and with Frieda and her children Walter and Lily.

Crossing the Dnieper River

When you (Val) were small and playing with yourself, you often sang songs with your own melodies. These were happy, unconscious songs of praise. When we were driving on the long bridge over the Dnieper River, you held a little violin with a few strings and to this accompaniment you sang so beautifully, “Hallelujah! We are driving over the Dnieper, where the ships go, where many ducks swim, where children bathe, and the horses swim.”  You made up songs about what you saw as we were driving along.

It was a picturesque region through which we drove on and on. Just then we came to Kakovka, the town where your mother came from and where she spent her childhood. You did not yet know anything of sorrow and the dear Hallelujah from a child’s lips was comforting to me.

In winter

I can still see the wide covered wagon with three tired horses standing amidst swirling snowflakes on the buddy street of a Russian villager. Along the walls of a house, sheaves of reeds had been placed upright for insulation, and I pushed myself between them. Through the falling snowflakes, I observed the patient face of my husband sitting in the wagon. His profile, as always, was an appealing sight to me. We were waiting for Frieda, who had gone to look for shelter for us and the horses.

Brave Frieda! At the other end of the village, there was still a family that did not have someone staying with them. A friendly Russian woman received us and gave us enough dry straw to cover the whole floor of the room, and we could rest. Frieda and I could also bake bread and cook on her stove. She was alone in the house. Her husband was in the army and was somewhere in the forest with the resistance fighters.

We were traveling under the protection of the German army, everyday we continued westward. We kissed the good Russian woman goodbye and she wept over us. Everyone had their sorrow. We had ours and she had hers. Because of an evil war everyone suffered. How wonderful it is when there is peace in the land! Enough food for body and soul! Peaceful Sunday celebrations and rest and so many good things!

Sojourn in West Ukraine

Because a bridge had been destroyed, we had to wait three weeks in Shokalskiy. Then we drove on towards the border as far as Kamenta-Podolskiy. Five wagons, including ours, from the Paulsheim group had to stay behind in a Russian village because the horses were too weak.

From there we continued on light, narrow wagons, called tarrantass, with which the Russians drove through ditches and over hills. In order to shorten the way, they drove us along a very steep incline on a very narrow road, but the horses were familiar with it. The wagon in front of us had a high load and Mrs. Franz from Gnadenfeld sat high up. She looked deathly pale and called to the man who was driving our wagon to walk beside hers for she was afraid. He left our wagon and went to her aid. We were left without a driver, though he did keep an eye on us and the horses were reliable. Our wagon was the last one. How glad I was when we finally turned left onto a field.

The scenery was beautiful. Far down below us was a river and bright houses surrounded by gardens. To the left was a cliff so high that one had to crane one’s neck to see the forest that grew up on the top. To the right were rugged cliffs, too, though one could also see green woods and people.

Gustav was lying listlessly in the wagon. I said to him that he should look around a bit., because we have never before driven through such a beautiful region. But he showed no interest. He was too sick. Val was lying beside him at the end of the wagon and I and old Nurse Metzberg were sitting at the other end behind the driver. Thus we drove the whole day and in the evening we reached a collective farm. The wagons were driven directly into a lighted stable in which horses and cows were kept. We were standing in the passageway in the middle. Val asked for a drink of water and got a plate full of snow. Gusrtav was so sick he fell when he had to get up.

Sojourn in Beredshanka

So in the cold weather we finally reached the village Beredshanka, where my husband got pneumonia for the fifth time in his life. We spent the months of December, January and February in this village.

In Beredshanka, we found accommodation in a tiny one-room cottage, where the six of us lived together with an 80-year-old grandmother Anina Dudna, who was the owner of the house. Gustav was content if he could just lie still and be left alone.

At dusk, we would sit in the little one-room house and sing hymns, for example, “I know of a stream.” Whenever we came to the refrain, “O soul, I plead with you, Come/And seek this glorious stream/Its water flows free and mighty /O believe that it flows for you.” Then we would insert the name of a family member, e.g. “Irene, I plead with you, come!”, etc. Frieda with Walter and Lily and I with my little Val sang, and grandmother Dudna listened devoutly.

Gustav lay in bed all the time. At the foot of his bed the old Russian woman let her hens lay their eggs every day. She also fed her ten hens in that room every morning. We had to sit still till she was done. The hens who wanted to lay eggs stayed behind.

On the night of March 2, 1944, we were suddenly ordered to leave the next morning. We thought it was because of the growing danger from the Russian resistance fighters. The inhabitants, who had come to kike the Mennonites, fet sorry for us. They noticed we were peaceful people and that our youth sang songs under the windows of sick people.

Negotiating the stretch of wet and muddy roads leading to the train station took up the whole day. Then we boarded empty cattle cars in which people and possessions were crowded together, but it was all done peacefully. We also received rations and no one had to go hungry.

Gustav’s suffering increased. The paralysis became worse and he required more nursing care. There was no opportunity to wash. The people around him soon got used to his groaning, as always when we ourselves are not directly affected by the pain. Everybody had their own problems.

We reached the city of Vinnitsa (West Ukraine). Everything was unloaded and lay in long piles along the platform. It was snowing and there was a cold wind. Frieda cared for us like a mother and let us stay in a dry spot with the three children. She took turns with Katie and Magdalena, two fellow travelers, watching our baggage, even at night, for it was not until the third day that a train arrived to take us further to Dietfurt in Poland.

I led Gustav over the many railroad tracks to the waiting room. He fell so often. I heard footsteps behind us and strong Maga lena Franz came and helped me. How I loved her right away.

At night, we lay in the empty waiting room, where we tried to make ourselves comfortable for the night. Then another train arrived, and soon the room was filled with refugees from Sagradovka. Many children were lying all around us. So very tired and many in an awkward position, their little heads hanging down. I could not stand it and, where possible, I moved a child’s head to a more comfortable position. It was a sad sight to see all our Mennonites lying there on the way to a promised land. A new home that they had not yet reached. Escaped from one danger, they would soon be facing more dangerous conditions in which even their last possessions would be taken away from them. Now many are in North America where, thanks to Christian brotherly love shown by the Mennonite Central Committee, they have a new home.

At last our train arrived and we rode in the direction of the Warthegau district in German-occupied Poland. During the night, we were surprised by the unusual speed of the train. Only later did we find out that our train was the last one able to go through. The next one had to take the detour through Romania.

Arrival in Poland

So we arrived in Poland, the land from where our ancestors once came. Now it was under German military occupation.

In Dietfurt, we were all gathered at an assembly center. From there, people were dispersed among the farmers and taken to various villages and farms. Finally everyone was gone except us, for we were unfit for work and no farmer wanted us. Frieda and children stayed with us, for she, too, was not well.

On March 12, 1944, we received two beautiful bright rooms with a tiled stove and a small garden around the house, where we could grow vegetables. It was in the village of Lindenbrueck, not far from Dietfurt in the Warthegau district. Things went well for us that summer and fall. Except for his stiff legs, Gustav was doing quite well. We received food and clothing from the German military government.

We could recuperate and started to feel at home to some extent. I remember our neighbor, Mrs. Else Droster Hochhauser, the pastor’s wife, and the teacher Mr. Kopp and his family. I was permitted to pick currants in their yard and they gave Gustav their paper to read. Later, they too, had to leave everything behind and become refugees.