Theodore Odrach - Wave of Terror

“At first I tried to tell myself that it was all a big mistake and the new regime couldn’t possibly behave like that. But I know this is their usual method of operation. The NKVD dreams up fake counterrevolutionary activities and then grabs victims everywhere and anywhere and gets them to answer for these ‘activities’. I’ve heard that wherever they find a man, the crime is not far off. A lot of people end up signing confessions just from the hopelessness of it all. I made up my mind I wasn’t going to break.

“In any case, Sobakin had three pages on me on his desk. He handed me a pen and said, ‘Now you just sit there and write out your confession. Be honest. We know everything.’ Then he left the room. He was gone maybe half an hour and when he came back he had a completely different attitude. He seemed friendly. He offered me another cigarette, and he said, ‘Forgive me for losing my temper. We’ve got so much bourgeois riffraff around here, it’s hard sometimes not to lose control. But I can see you’re different from the others. You’re bright, alert, you’re precisely what our new Soviet system needs. I want us to be friends.’ Then he looked sideways at me and said that if I agreed, it would be to my ‘advantage.’

“He stood staring at me for a long time before he went on, saying that if we were going to be friends, we would have to trust each other. And that required teamwork. If I was treated unjustly, he would come to my aid without the slightest hesitation. He would be my supporter and true friend. ‘If you happen to need money, advice, anything at all, just come to me.’ Then his eyes narrowed. ‘But, of course, friendship must be proven and more importantly, you have to prove your allegiance to the new regime. If you play your cards right, you may very well find yourself on the royal road to advancement.’

“I expected a proposition like this, but still I was thrown off guard. I said, ‘I see, comrade.’ The word comrade didn’t bother him any more. ‘Are you asking me to be an informer?’

“‘An informer?’ Sobakin burst out laughing. ‘Any idiot can be an informer. No, no, what I want from you is your loyalty, I want you to be a government official. And mark my words, there’s a big difference between informer and government official.’

“I asked him what was involved in being a government official.

“He said it’s ‘a most honorable post. You’ll have the highest level of power in your village. You’ll be its eyes and ears, its very heart. It’ll be your responsibility to protect our great socialist motherland. You’ll continue being a teacher, at least on the surface, but in reality you’ll be working hand-in-hand with the NKVD, weeding out enemies of the state. You’ll be performing an especially important task for the Party and the government.’

“He lowered his voice and leaned toward me. ‘Now about Kulik. Of course, you’ll continue your friendship with him, but it’s most important that I be given accurate accounts of your encounters with him. As you’ve probably guessed, he’s under suspicion. There are serious allegations against him. In Vilno he worked with the Polish secret police to quash the Communist Party, and during one of their attacks, four dedicated comrades lost their lives.’”

Kulik couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Sergei, do you believe any of this?”

“Of course not. I don’t believe a word of it. And even if it was true, it would make me happy to know there would be four bastards fewer on the face of the earth. Of course, I pretended to be shocked, outraged, and luckily he bought into it. He was convinced he had found his man.

“He waved some papers in front of my nose and told me to read them carefully, and sign on the bottom when I was done. He said he believed we would work well together. There was a list of people who were under suspicion: acquaintances, friends, family members. I read everything: I was to be named ‘government official’ for Hlaby and surrounding area effective immediately, and if I performed well, I would be handsomely rewarded for my services. I was even given a quota to fill. It was all in black and white. I had to think fast. Finally I blurted out, ‘I’m afraid I can’t sign it, comrade. I’m not good at this sort of thing. I’ll give myself away in an instant. If you like, I can be an aid or assistant to you of some kind, but a government official, I could never swing it. I’m not aggressive enough and I don’t have much experience in dealing with people. Every grandmother in the village would see right through me in a minute.’

“Sobakin just stared at me with no expression while I was talking. Then he got up from behind his desk and left the room, shutting the door behind him. He was gone for several minutes, and when he came back again, he was much different, he seemed impatient. He lit a cigarette and said that all that was fine for now, but only for now. He said, ‘I strongly advise you to give this matter careful consideration.’ He said he would call me back there soon, and he was sure we’d be able to come to some sort of agreement. And one more thing — what just happened here, he said, ‘well, it didn’t really happen, if you know what I mean. Not a word, not to your family, not to your friends, not to a soul. If you tell anyone, I’ll find out, and you know what will happen when I do.’

“He led me to the door, and when he opened it, the guards came in. They grabbed me by the arms and took me to the basement, where they roughed me up in a closed-off room. Then they dragged me down a narrow hallway and threw me into a dingy corner near the stairwell. They left me there for it seemed like forever, and then a door opened across from me and they came out practically carrying a man, half-dressed, with his hands tied behind his back. His face looked swollen; he couldn’t walk, obviously. It was a horrible sight; they did it in front of me on purpose, to break me, to scare me….”

Sergei’s eyes filled with tears.

“I had to tell you about this; you had to know you’re in great danger. I can’t even begin to imagine what Sobakin would do if he found out we met here tonight. Be careful, Ivan, they’re out to get you.”

Kulik tried to sound optimistic. “There’s no need for alarm, my friend, not yet. They don’t have anything on us, at least nothing concrete. They’re trying to corner us — they’re getting closer, that’s true, but there’s still some time left.”

But Sergei sat staring vacantly at the wall. Then he pulled himself up and opened the door a crack to peer outside. There was nothing there. Fumbling into his overcoat, he said quietly, “Well, it appears it’s safe enough for me to go home now. Good night. And be careful.”

Kulik went into his office and sat down at his desk, closed his eyes and buried his head in his hands. The NKVD was obviously trying to pin something on him They couldn’t find anything, so they were inventing idiotic stories about his past. Then he tried to convince himself that since the NKVD had nothing on him, in the end he would be found innocent and be left alone. But then there came the inevitable question: why was the NKVD coming up with something, anything, no matter how outrageous? Why was he being targeted like this?

He had to admit the utter hopelessness of his situation. The wheels of Soviet justice had been set in motion; it was just a matter of time before he would be run down. He would be tortured physically and psychologically until he cooperated somehow and showed repentance. But repentance for what? Sabotage? Treason against the Soviet government? Propaganda? Agitation? He racked his brain for some logical explanation of all that was happening; he could hardly believe any of it could be true.

But the more he thought about it, the more frightened he became. The room was bathed in moonlight; long shadows fell across the walls and ceiling. The floor creaked. Suddenly Kulik felt he was not alone, that someone was in the room with him, watching. He was certain of it: he was being watched not only now but at all hours of the day — at night, during school hours, even in the early morning. But by whom? A neighbor, a pupil, a parent, Paraska, maybe even Sergei. But Sergei a spy? His entire being rebelled against the idea. “No, not Sergei. Never!” He must be slowly losing his grip. There was no logic left anywhere; the real world did not exist any more.