‘Stefan? It’s you isn’t it?’
I looked closer at him. He stood a good six feet tall and he had a woollen hat pulled down to his ears. He had a beard which was sprouting downwards, but when I looked into his eyes I saw something familiar. Those deep blue eyes got me thinking; got me wondering. Who was this in front of me? He lowered his rifle and held out a hand, and it was at that precise moment I knew who was standing in front of me,
‘Sasha! Is it really you? I didn’t recognise you. You look so different. So grown up.’
I took hold of his hand, and he pulled me towards him, we shared a warm embrace. It was so good to see someone I knew. Father stepped forward, ‘Hello, Sasha.’
‘Hello, Mr Szpuk.’
‘Sasha, we’re hungry, we’ve got nowhere to go. Can you help us?’ Father looked at Sasha with desperation in his eyes. Sasha replied,
‘I’d like to help you. I really would, but we can’t take people in and give them food and shelter. We’ve hardly got enough for ourselves, never mind taking in all those who come past.’
‘But Sasha, I’ve known you since you were a boy. You went to school with Stefan. Surely there’s some way you can help us?’
Sasha frowned. The other three of his team had arranged themselves around Peter and the remainder of our group and were poised like panthers, with rifles at the ready.
‘Wait here,’ he said, and then he called to the other men, and they huddled together.
All we could do was stand and watch, and wait. Soon enough they broke out of their huddle and Sasha approached us once again,
‘Okay, listen. There’s no way we can take all of you in. We just haven’t got enough provisions or places to stay, but what we can do is take you, Mr Szpuk, and Stefan. We can give you food and shelter and guide you across the border into Slovakia where you should be able to get taken in as refugees.’
‘What if we volunteer to join the Resistance?’ asked Father.
‘Mr Szpuk, there are so many people passing through here right now. We have strict orders not to recruit any more. That’s what we’ve been told, anyhow.’ Father and I looked at each other. I wondered what the others in our group might think if we were to be given this special treatment, but my thoughts were interrupted by a voice from behind us. ‘Of course you must accept this very generous offer, my friends,’ it was the voice of Peter, ‘if two of our group can get help here, then that can only be good. The rest of us will keep walking. Don’t worry, we’ll find what we need. We’ll make a camp and build a fire in a sheltered position. There is life around here, we’ll find some food.’
‘He’s right,’ replied Sasha, ‘You must come with us now, before it gets any darker.’
Father started to speak but Peter held up his hand, ‘Please go with my blessing, Believe me, if you go then at least two of us will have found some sanctuary and some help.’ He pulled us both towards him and held us briefly in a firm embrace. On releasing us he simply said, ‘Goodbye.’ He turned and walked away. I wished him and the others well and I’m sure Father did the same. I whispered a silent prayer, I hoped he and the others would be all right. Sasha extended his hand to me and helped me up onto the rocks, while one of his team did the same with Father. We clambered up until we were level with the tops of the trees opposite and we looked down at Peter and his group. Many of them dragged their feet with their heads bent, others needed an arm to hold onto. My heartfelt blessings were with them as they walked into the distance. For all I knew they could be walking right on into the heart of the Apocalypse, while I was lucky enough to find someone who could give me shelter. How long for I didn’t know, but I didn’t have time to think about it as Sasha urged us on. We climbed higher and deeper into the mountains and reached a densely wooded area. Sasha, with his men, led us to a small cave. Inside, it was cold and smelt damp, just like the inside of a well. I shivered and pulled my arms around me.
‘Don’t just stand there, Stefan,’ said Sasha, ‘you’d better get back out there and bring in some firewood.’
I was so tired I could barely stand up, and then I noticed a stack of wood in a recess at the back of the cave, ‘Y-you already have some firewood here.’ I pointed at the pile.
‘That won’t last long, Stefan,’ replied Sasha, frowning at me, ‘We always need to keep supplies topped up. Come on! If you’re going to stay with us, you’ll need to help out.’ The light was fading fast as I trudged outside and, although I was sick with hunger and fatigue, I gathered up as many sticks as I could, as quickly as I could. I returned to the cave and stacked the sticks in the recess. Then I threw myself down on a bed of hay, next to Father. Sasha threw me a blanket and one to Father also. We lay down and tried to get comfortable while Sasha got a fire going. A blaze soon got the place warmed up and Sasha ignored us for a while as he searched through some boxes until he triumphantly pulled out a small carton. ‘Eggs! Feeling hungry?’ he looked across at us. We lifted up our heads and Father said, ‘We’re grateful for anything.’
Sasha poured some water into a battered and blackened pan and then positioned it on a specially constructed arrangement of stones that served as a stove. We waited. Sasha came and sat next to us, ‘So. Strange that we should meet again after all this time, eh?’
‘So much has happened,’ began Father, ‘you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’
‘Many have journeyed through these mountains,’ replied Sasha, ‘all have a story to tell, some worse than others. I’ve heard so many different tales, of wives raped and murdered, of slaughtered children, of whole villages burned down. Believe me, I’ve heard it all.’ Father and I sat silent for a moment. Well, what could we say? Sasha was right. Many of our fellow Ukrainians had fared much worse than us in many ways. Even so, that fact didn’t ease my pain at all. Sasha continued, sensing our discomfort, ‘But I can see you’ve both been through a rough time, and I’ve got a good idea how you’re feeling. Remember what happened to my father?’
I remembered so well that night when Sasha came to tell me he was leaving after the Soviets took his father away. The memory was strong; his ashen-faced, wild-eyed look, the fire in his eyes and defiance in his soul showing through all too clear. He really hadn’t changed very much. He’d grown into a man, of course, and he still spoke with the same intensity, ‘That’s why I’m here,’ he continued, ‘to stop that sort of thing happening, if I can. We’re more organised now. We’re not just the Resistance any more, we’re the Ukrayinska Povstanska Armiya*, or UPA for short. We’re fighting for a free Ukraine. Anyone who’s against that, be they Poles, Soviets or Nazis, then they are the enemy. It’s as simple as that. If they pass through here, they risk death. This is our territory. They know that.’ Sasha paused. The eggs were coming to the boil. He grabbed his rucksack and pulled out a paper parcel. He unwrapped it and inside it were a few slices of razoviy*, a rye bread of delicious flavour and a staple of Ukrainians. That bread really filled you up. A few minutes later each of us in that cave bit into a slice of razoviy and a lovely hard boiled egg. We washed this down with half a cup of water each, from a bucket provided by one of Sasha’s men. It wasn’t the most substantial meal I’d ever had, but, at that point in time, it was a feast.
It was dark inside the cave, and I was tired. I lay back on my bed of straw and closed my eyes. I couldn’t relax. I really wanted to sleep, but what would sleep bring? Dreams of home? Of Mother and Volodimir? I drifted off restlessly, fatigue eventually creeping into me.
I woke up the next day, in darkness once again, just like when I woke up in the hut. Father was still asleep, but Sasha’s men were partaking of coffee and bread for breakfast, around that small fire. The smell of the coffee made my head spin a little, it reminded me, for a moment, of our kitchen back home. Blinking, as wiry shafts of sunlight found their way to me, I shook my head. I wanted my mind to be blank, to close doors on certain memories and thoughts. There were things I didn’t want to think about. The embers of the fire were still glowing, and I gazed into the
m. For a few minutes I drifted into that make-believe world I visited as a child so many times. In my mind I conjured up the fire of the Kozaks as they rode the steppes. They were fearless and showed their enemies no mercy. They rode into battle side by side looking straight into the eyes of their foe. The Kozaks attacked like a hurricane. Swords clashed and much blood got spilt. Many times they fought to the last man. They were true warriors.
I was jolted from my thoughts by a rustling. I looked up to see Sasha entering the cave. He picked up a bundle of sticks. I watched him as he got the fire going again. With economy and grace he soon got a blaze up; Sasha was probably the only person I knew who was just like a Kozak. I was proud to know him. Maybe one day I would join him in the battle to free Ukraine. A quick calculation in my head said to me that he must have been about 21 just then. He was a man, and even though, at 17, I wasn’t so far behind him, I felt like I was still only a boy compared to him.
Father woke up, and we breakfasted on black coffee and a slice of razoviy, ‘Well,’ said Father, ‘what do you think we should do, Sasha?’
Sasha looked at us over the top of his tin mug. Then he set it down, ‘It’s difficult to say. As far as UPA is concerned we wanted the Nazis to win this war. That’s what we thought at first, anyhow. But now, after seeing how they’ve treated us Ukrainians, we’re not so certain. Both the Nazis and the Soviets are as bad as each other, that’s for sure. But the Soviets are coming this way, and if they get this far and you’re still here, you’ll end up wearing a Red Army uniform and you’ll get marched off to the front. Don’t get me wrong, I’d like to say you can join us, but we’ve had strict orders right from the top not to take on any more recruits at the moment. On the other hand, if you keep walking west, eventually, you should be able to get refuge somewhere. The Allies will never concede control of Germany to the Soviets, so, if I were you, that’s where I’d aim for.’
‘So,’ replied Father, ‘how can you help us, Sasha?’
‘I can take you as far as the Slovakian border. That’s the best place for you to head right now, because it’s away from the main areas of conflict, and we have contacts with their Resistance. It’ll take a few days to get through the mountains and my men and I will need to keep our duties up as a patrol.’
So, over the next three days we travelled in much the same way. With meagre rations and with our hearts and souls scarred and stained. We stumbled over those mountains, dragging our feet and pushing down the pain inside us. The sun beat down on us, but no matter how warm it got, I didn’t take my coat off. Even when I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead and a film of dampness on my chest and on my back, I never took that coat off. Well, anything worth anything, you hung on to. Simple really.
For two days and nights we continued on our mazy path and we survived on what we could find and what Sasha could spare us. At the end of the second day we stood on a peak overlooking some nearby settlements. It looked like several small villages grouped together. It was getting dark.
‘Right,’ said Sasha, ‘we’re near the end of our journey. Tomorrow morning we’ll take you along the last couple of miles or so, and you’ll be able to cross the border. Then you’ll be able to get a good start.’
‘Thank you, Sasha,’ said Father, ‘you’ve done so much for us.’
‘It’s been no trouble, but, before we say goodbye to you, we’ll get you some good food to send you on your way. Follow me, Stefan. Mr Szpuk, you can wait here.’
Sasha and I climbed down the hill, stumbling now and again in the fading light. We reached the bottom of the mountains and he beckoned to me,
‘Sit down here, Stefan.’ We sat on some rocks and waited. I pulled the collar of my coat up. Within about ten minutes two figures approached. It was two girls, one aged about 16 and other little one would have been about six. They were carrying a pail. Sasha and I stood up and climbed down the final incline to meet them, ‘Hello, girls. It’s good to see you again.’
‘Hello Sasha.’ The older girl blushed, but the little one just looked up at us with wide eyes. ‘We’ve brought you some varenyky.’ The older one passed the pail to Sasha.
‘Thank you, Slavka. We have some friends with us until tomorrow, so we’ll get through this lot no problem. Listen. I’ve got nothing I can give you in return, but remember, if you and you families have any trouble then you know how to get hold of us. We’ll always help you out.’
Slavka smiled shyly at Sasha and giggled. She walked up to him and stood very close to him. He put his arm around her, set the pail down, and they walked into a nearby glade, where they put their arms around each other. I sat back down on the rocks, with the pail at my feet, and the little one just kept looking on with her wide eyes, ‘Why do you look so sad?’ she said.
I tried to smile. ‘I don’t want to leave Ukraine.’
‘Why do you have to?’ she replied.
‘Because the war is coming this way. We’ve got no choice.’
She pulled a wooden bracelet off her wrist and passed it to me. It was constructed of small wooden beads.
‘Keep this bracelet, so that wherever you are, you’ll always have a piece of Ukraine with you. My uncle made it for me.’
I put the bracelet in my pocket just as Sasha came back. ‘Come on, Stefan, we need to go.’ After the swiftest of goodbyes to the two girls, Sasha and I clambered back up to our camp where we all feasted on those varenyky, those plump little pockets of dough filled with potato and cheese. They were still warm and had been doused with onions fried in butter. For once we ate well. We all went to sleep with our bellies full.
The following morning, we walked that last couple of miles or so, stopping now and again for Sasha and his men to peer through binoculars to see who was passing down below. We finally reached a peak where we looked down at some much larger settlements. It was a beautifully clear spring morning.
‘Well,’ said Sasha, ‘what you see in the distance is the border between Ukraine and Slovakia. To the right is the Ukrainian town of Uzhorod. It’s a big place and it’s right on the border. To the far left is a small Slovakian village, Vysne Nemecke. It’s a very small place, but the people around there are welcoming. You’ll need to be careful, you know that, but with luck, from there, you can travel onwards towards Germany. That’s probably the only place you’ll definitely be safe from the Soviets You just need to climb down from here and then head towards the far side of the village. Here, take this,’ he handed a piece of paper to Father, ‘it’s got the name of a contact in the Slovakian Resistance and an address where you can ask for him. His name’s Ludvik. He’s based in the mountains near the town of Presov. You’ll need to get across the border, then go west for a while and then start heading north. He’ll help you. Tell him I sent you.’
‘Sasha,’ replied Father, stuffing the piece of paper into his pocket, ‘we can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. I just wish we could join you. I know Stefan would like that.’
‘If it was up to me, I’d take you straight away, just like that, of course I would, but we’re under orders. But I’ve something else for you,’ he signalled to one of the other men who walked across to us holding a shoulder bag, ‘this bag’s got a few things you might need. It’s a basic mountain survival kit.’
The bag was passed to Father who looped it over a shoulder and said, ‘Sasha, thank you. Are you sure you can spare this?’
‘It’s yours, Mr Szpuk. I hope it helps you. I really hope you make it through and get somewhere safe.’
Then I asked a question that was burning inside me, ‘Do you think we’ll ever be able to get back home, Sasha?’ He looked at me, ‘Stefan, one day we’ll all go home. I can’t say when that’ll be. But I truly believe we will get back.’
Father shook Sasha’s hand and slapped him on the shoulder. Then, I took Sasha’s hand. He pulled me towards him, ‘Take care of yourself, Stefan. You may not be able to join us now, but I know that inside your heart you’ll be with us. And that counts.
It drives us on, and makes us believe what we’re doing is right. Promise me you’ll never stop believing Ukraine will be free one day.’
‘I promise, of course I do.’ I had to steel myself. To stop the tears from flowing. To be strong. Because strength was needed right then. We said our final goodbyes to Sasha and his men. We turned away, and walked down that hill. We walked away from our beloved Ukraine.
Chapter 8
Ukrainian proverb: The fear of death takes away the joy of living
We climbed down that hill, our heavy footsteps kicking dust into the air behind us. Everything in our world was collapsing around us, that’s how it seemed, I don’t know how we managed to stay on our feet. At the bottom, we stopped and turned around to look back up towards the ridge. There was no sign of Sasha, or his men. It was just me and Father, on our own. Sasha had looked after us as if we were family. He’d shared the sparse provisions available to him and his men, he’d given us shelter, and now we’d said goodbye to him. I wondered if I’d ever see him again. The two of us turned around again and started walking.
The morning stretched out in front of us as we made our way across a layer of rugged foothills. The Carpathian Mountains towered beside us as we continued to head west, their majestic beauty occupying the horizon to the north. The bronze terrain of the foothills snaked and spread in front of us. I don’t know exactly when we crossed the border into Slovakia, but I noticed something was different. An aroma of sweetness filled the air, a warm breeze blew around our ears, and the light was different somehow. This was how I knew we’d left Ukraine. I bowed my head. Every step was taking us further away from our home. My guts were twisting inside like water being sucked down a drain.
The next days passed by in something of a blur. We walked so far, so many miles, and I was so weary. My legs could hardly hold me up, they were like broken springs. Father led me through those foothills and deeper into Slovakian territory. Many days and nights passed with sunshine above us by day, and moonlight and stars twinkling above us in the night time. To this day, I don’t know how Father kept the two of us going. Many times he pulled me back up when I’d stumbled. Other times, he placed a strong arm around my shoulders and walked alongside me. He found us food whenever he could, and more importantly, he was able to find running water almost at will. On many occasions, he’d stop walking, crane his neck to one side and say, ‘Come on, Stefan, let’s get ourselves some water.’ Sure enough, there was always a stream nearby. We’d have a good drink and feel fresh again, even if only for a short time. Father could build a fire almost anywhere, from virtually nothing. The survival kit Sasha gave us had tinder, a flint and an army knife. That was all Father needed. In the cold darkness we’d huddle around the flickering flames and warm our bones.