Roll Over Play Dead Read online

  Alexei told those next to him, “Something is coming! Get off the road into the nearby woods!”

  The noise Grigory heard turned into a roar. As they dashed into the woods, Alexei turned to see a lone German Luftwaffe JU-87 Stuka in a steep dive toward the road they were on.

  The pilot of the Stuka was the lone survivor of his flight wing. He had revenge in his heart for his fellow pilots that had been recently shot down. He had disobeyed orders by not returning to base. Heading East of Stalingrad along the main supply road from Kuybyshev, he still had one bomb left, and he was determined to use it.

  The Stuka is an assault dive bomber designed for ground attack against tanks and anti-aircraft positions. The dive had to be at a steep angle. The sound of the diving aircraft had always elicited terror in both civilians and soldiers. It was no different this time.

  Refugees on the road finally heard the scream of the Stuka diving toward what they thought was the front of their group. Only a kilometer away, on the same road and heading straight for the refugees, was a relief column of Russian T-34 medium tanks racing for Stalingrad. As the refugees dove to the ground looking for any cover, the pilot dropped his bomb and pulled back on the stick.

  Throughout the war, the German Luftwaffe gave preference to the heavy bomber arm which always ended up with the better pilots. In late 1943 and early 1944 the Luftwaffe could not meet the attrition rate of the assault bomber pilots flying the Stuka. On top of this, there were fuel shortages resulting in shortened pilot training.

  To stop the dive, he pulled on the stick as hard as he could. As he did so, he realized he had miscalculated. Within a few seconds, the bomb he dropped struck the ground and exploded in front of the relief column of tanks with the Stuka plowing head-on into the first tank in the column. A massive explosion followed as debris spread a quarter of a kilometer down the road in front of the refugees.

  Alexei and Grigory got to their feet, awestruck at the carnage. A family traveling next to Alexei had taken his lead and followed him into the woods just before the bomb exploded. As each member of the family got up and checked on one another the father said, “My family and I thank you both for the warning. We are happy to be safe.”

  Alexei responded, “We are too. That was a little too close.”

  The father asked, “Are you headed for the refugee center near Kuybyshev?”

  Alexei answered, “No. We are heading for Saratov. I am Alexei, and this is Grigory. We are from the Village of Bepa. May we travel along with you until we reach Saratov?”

  “Yes. We would be pleased for you to travel with us. May I introduce my wife Nina and our three children Sergey, Pavel and Rolan?”

  Before he left for the front, Father Alexander gave Alexei a journal. He told him it was important to record how he feels about what happens during the journey. Alexei told him that he would and true to his word, from the time that he and Grigory left Bepa; Alexei had faithfully recorded every event and his thoughts and feelings about them.

  After a near miss with the Stuka, as the refugees found places in the nearby woods to rest for the night, Alexei and Grigory bedded down. Before he fell asleep and with barely enough light to see, Alexei wrote in his journal. His thoughts were of Tasha; I do miss her.

  Tasha and Alexei grew up together. She was six months younger than Alexei and a very close friend. She has been serving at the same Russian Army field hospital as Father Alexander. Though she enjoyed the work, she found it difficult to understand why so many young men had to end up wounded and suffering. Tasha, though somewhat shy and quiet, is very smart and compassionate and is an excellent help to Father Alexander.

  In a letter she wrote to Alexei a few weeks back, she said that Father Alexander wanted her to study medicine after the war. Alexei remembered how she would take meals into those in their Village that were sick. Tasha, Grigory, and Alexei had had many happy moments together.

  Closing his journal, as he could no longer keep his eyes open, Alexei offered a silent prayer for Tasha’s safety and well being and wished the same for Father Alexander.

  About two weeks into the journey Alexei felt exhausted and depressed. He sadly recorded in his journal: When I woke up this morning, word was passed along the column. Refugees were found murdered for their food and belongings during the night. Alexei’s concerns on hearing this were for the safety of what he carried. I must be more vigilant; he thought, as he felt for his knapsack as he had done so many times on the journey, to make sure the wrapped package was still there.

  Next morning, the column of refugees walked past several burned out tank and truck hulks pushed off the road. There were bodies of dead soldiers left on the side of the road, covered with blankets, to be picked up later for burial.

  The journey to Saratov was difficult because of so much destruction and so many refugees with which to contend. It took some 24 days. The long stream of refugees had to get off the road into the fields and woods often as the Russian Army T-34 medium tanks and trucks roared past on the way to the front. One column of army vehicles measured several kilometers in length.

  The T-34 was once called by a German general, ‘the deadliest tank in the world.’ First deployed in 1940, its weaponry, sloped armor, and agility made it a powerful and useful tool of war. The trucks are the lend-lease Studebaker US6—re-designated the BM-13N. The two and a half ton truck, which mounts the massive BM-31 rocket launcher, was best known for its cross-country performance.

  Writing in his journal on the last night before they reached the Volga River near Saratov, Alexei described in detail the family they had befriended just after the air attack. He recorded that he and Grigory had felt safer being part of a family group. How they had helped the family pull the wagon containing the family’s meager possessions as appreciation for the kindness of the family in sharing their food with them. How the family had told stories of the village they came from and how they had been forced to leave in order to survive. His last entry was that the family did not know what would become of them or when they would be able to return to their home. He recorded their final comment: We are a family, and we will stay together.

  Alexei and Grigory huddled with their new family in front of a small cook fire to stay warm. They wrapped themselves in the blankets and wore the warm clothes Aunt Alexandra had them take. Alexei told the family, “We must leave you tomorrow. We will be stopping at ‘Our Lady of Love’ church just before we get into Saratov. Grigory will wait there until the rest of our village catches up with him. I must go on to Molotov. You have all been so kind. I wish there were some way to thank you for what you have done.”

  “No thanks are necessary. Good luck on the rest of your journey. Grigory, we will find you at the refugee center. We would like to meet the others from your village.”

  About noon the next day, as the column of refugees continued to trudge forward, Alexei spotted the church building a short distance ahead. He said, “Grigory, we are almost there. I see the church.”

  As Grigory pounded Alexei’s back, he yelled, “We made it! We made it!”

  Also showing his excitement, Alexei said, “Yes. We made it!”

  They wished each member of their new family a hearty good-bye and best of luck for a continued safe journey as they left the group and headed down a side road to the church—a most beautiful structure. They knocked on the front door. When answered, they asked for Father Yegor. After a few minutes, Father Yegor appeared. Alexei introduced Grigory and himself. With a broad smile, Father Yegor said, “Welcome. Enter. Follow me. Let me show you where you will stay until you leave on the next leg of your journey. It will take a day or so for me to finish the arrangements, so rest up. You will be safe here. Tell me. Is there much chaos outside these walls?”

  Alexei answered, “Yes. We saw much hardship since we left our Village. There are many people without homes or places to go, fleeing from the German Army. We saw many bad things on the way; much hunger and sickness. We are relieved to be here and thank you
for taking us in. Father Alexander told us that we would be welcome.”

  Father Yegor asked Alexei and Grigory to join him for dinner that night to outline the next part of the journey.

  During dinner, Father Yegor said, “I grew up on the Volga River. My father and my uncles have owned small cargo vessels which have carried goods up and down the river for many years. I had worked for them before I went to the theological academy seminary to become a priest. I still maintain regular contact. Alexei, I have arranged passage for you on one of my uncle’s boats to Kuybyshev and then on to Molotov. There are armaments and other war materials for loading at both locations for the return trip to Saratov. I told him that you would work during the journey since he is so shorthanded. He said he would be grateful for your help.”

  The Volga River, the longest in Europe, rises in the Valdal Hills northwest of Moscow and southeast of St. Petersburg and heads east. It then turns south to discharge into the Caspian Sea. With the ongoing battle for Stalingrad, the Volga became one of the main supply routes for war materials to the Russian Front.

  On the second day at ‘Our Lady of Love’, Father Yegor told Grigory, “I received word that the people from your Village will be passing here by noon. You are to go to the main road to meet them. Alexei will not be leaving until tonight so he will go with you to wait for your people.” To Alexei he said, “My uncle’s boat is leaving at midnight. I will go with you to the dock to make the introductions. My uncle’s name is Vasiliy. He is easy to get along with as long as you do what he asks. He may seem cross at times, but he has a big heart. He knows it is important for you to get to Molotov.”

  Just before noon, Alexei and Grigory very excitedly, headed out the side road from the church. As they came to the main road to Saratov, they waited at the junction. Within a half-hour, they saw a steady column of refugees moving in their direction. As the mass of people streamed by, Alexei looked for anyone he might recognize. Finally, near the end of the column he spied Grandfather and the other villagers. Alexei, with much enthusiasm, cried out, “Grandfather, Grandfather, over here.”

  His grandfather said, “Alexei, Grigory, it is wonderful to see you safe. Aunt Alexandra and I have been so worried as has the rest of the Village. We saw so much destruction and dead bodies along the way and we prayed that you had made it safely.”

  The joyous reunion with all the Village people broke up as they resumed their trek. Alexei said, “Grandfather, it is best if Grigory has something to hold on to as he walks. I will only be able to go with you a kilometer or two, and then I must get back to the church. I will be leaving on the cargo boat at midnight tonight. Grigory can fill you in on what has happened since we left, and, I have kept a journal.”

  Just before midnight, Father Yegor and Alexei made their way to the pier and found the berth housing Vasiliy’s cargo ship. They climbed the gangplank to board the boat. Father Yegor called out, “Vasiliy; we are here.”

  One of the crew yelled back, “He is in the engine compartment. I will get him for you.”

  With the sound of a smooth-running engine ringing in his ears, Vasiliy stepped out on the deck to greet Father Yegor. He warmly said, “This must be Alexei, happy to have you on board. We can use the extra help. Father, why don’t you come with us?”

  Father Yegor replied, “I wish I could, but they need me at the church—there are so many displaced people for which to take care. Will this war never end?”

  Father Yegor climbed down the gangplank to the pier, waved a hearty goodbye, wished everyone a safe voyage and headed back to the church. Vasiliy, Alexei, and the crew waved their goodbyes. Then Vasiliy shouted out, “Let’s get underway. Haul in the lines.”

  As a crewman pulled in and rolled the lines, Vasiliy headed the boat out into the main channel of the Volga. With the blackout conditions, only very experienced boat Captains, like Vasiliy, who knows the river like the back of his hand, are permitted to navigate the river at night without running lights.

  Vasiliy said, “We should reach Kuybyshev by midnight tomorrow. We will be fighting a two knot current. The Army provided enough fuel drums to get us there, but we will need to refuel on arrival.”

  Twenty-four hours later, they entered Kuybyshev. Vasiliy said, “We will anchor just inside the harbor entrance until daybreak tomorrow. Then we will find our docking area. Leave only the semi-blackout lights on. We will load firearms and ammunition on the way back. Now, let’s get some rest until tomorrow.”

  Kuybyshev, whose historical name is Samara, became a World War II secondary capital of the Soviet Union until the summer of 1943. There was a bunker for Joseph Stalin in the city somewhere, though it was never used.

  It took all day to refuel the boat from the fuel drums on the dock. The crew loaded needed provisions and made arrangements to sail for Molotov.

  The historical name for Molotov is Perm. It not only connects to the deep water system of the Volga River for water transport using the Kama River, but it also is a stop on the Trans-Siberian Railway. Molotov is 1397 kilometers by rail from Moscow.

  Alexei was a great help during the voyage. He also learned much about operating a river cargo boat. Everyone was very helpful whenever Alexei asked a question.

  A member of the crew, a native of the Coastal Chukchi, was a shaman. He talked about shamanism during whatever spare time he and Alexei could find. He said, “A shaman is one who ‘knows’—has the power to heal. He communicates with others outside our world. All of us, even you Alexei, have that power. My training as a shaman showed me how to use it. You can also learn to use that power.”

  Alexei asked him if he had ever had the opportunity to heal anyone. The Shaman, after much consideration, responded, “I don’t usually speak of these experiences. They are very spiritual encounters. But, to help you understand the power, I will relate one to you. A few years back, on this boat, a crewman had an acute case of food poisoning from something he ate. When we realized he was in such bad shape; we were too far out to get medical attention. I found him in his bunk unconscious. He was running a very high fever. I offered a healing prayer for this young man through the power of the Great Spirit. Within an hour, he was awake, and his temperature was dropping. Next day he was up and returned to his duties on the boat.” That healing experience and several others were recorded by Alexei in his journal later that evening.

  Early next morning they embarked for Molotov at a steady 10 knots. If all goes well, it will take some 48 hours of run time to get there. That night Alexei fell dead-tired into his bunk. He was instantly asleep.

  All of a sudden, he landed awkwardly on the floor and heard yelling. Immediately the boat listed severely to port and water began flooding into the compartment. He crawled to the door and found it jammed shut. He managed to stand on the bunk and reached for the hatch cover in the bulkhead. He stretched his hand as far as he could, but the cover was still out of reach. The water kept rising. He grabbed a wooden box floating within reach and set it on the bunk. As he stood on the box, he was just able to get his hand around the latch holding the hatch cover closed. He unlatched the hatch cover and pushed as hard as he could, but nothing happened. Trapped, he screamed for help. But, he could not even hear himself. He asked, “Why can’t anyone understand me?” The boat was completely under water. The air pocket at the top of Alexei’s compartment was the only thing that was keeping him alive. He asked himself: How long will the air last? How long will I be able to hold my breath? He glanced out the porthole and saw a figure gliding toward him. He said, “Mama, is that you? I’m sorry I couldn’t complete the journey.”

  His mother, with a loving expression on her face, said, “You have the power!”

  Not hearing her clearly, he said, “What did you say?”

  His mother said again, almost too faintly to hear, “You have the power!”

  Jolted awake in his bunk and sweating profusely, Alexei vividly recalled the details of the dream he had just had. He looked around in the dark, and all was quiet.
He heard the steady beat of the engine and the sound of the boat moving peacefully through the water. He got up and walked, somewhat unsure, down the companionway to the galley. He poured a glass of water and drank deeply to quench his thirst. As he sat down to steady his nerves, he thought: I must have taken that shaman too seriously.

  Some two days later with Molotov in sight, Vasiliy leaned out of the pilot house and said, “Alexei, we will be arriving soon. Grab your knapsack. Shortly after we dock, we will leave for the diamond exchange on Pokrovskaya Street in Central Molotov.”

  The exchange has been in existence for over a hundred years. It has benefited from its location on a trade route connecting European Russia with Siberia. Separated by the Ural Mountains, diamonds were discovered recently not far from there.

  While a crewman tied the boat to the dock, Vasiliy had a talk with the crew. He then said, “Alexei, let’s go. We must meet with Oleg Kuskov, an old friend, at the exchange.”

  On the way to the exchange, Vasiliy explained how he first met Oleg many years ago. He related, “Oleg’s oldest son was a little wild growing up and became deep in debt gambling. He had borrowed money to pay off his debt from the local mob boss in exchange for doing some not quite so legal work for him on the docks. After the job, Oleg asked me if I could put his son to work on my boat and get him away from Molotov so the mob boss couldn’t use him again for other ‘odd’ jobs. I did. His son ended up working as a dock foreman in Stalingrad. Oleg was very thankful.”

  As Vasiliy and Alexei entered the diamond exchange, Oleg Kuskov got up from behind his desk and said, “Vasiliy, you are a sight for sore eyes. Who have we here?”

  Vasiliy responded, “This is Alexei. I brought him to do some business with the most honest diamond expert I know. Is there a room where Alexei can discuss his needs with you?”

  Oleg said, “Yes, follow me.”

  They gathered around a table in the middle of the room as Alexei unloaded the heavy knapsack from his shoulder. Alexei said, “Mr. Kuskov, I have the entire wealth of my Village with me to escape confiscation by the German Army. I am on my way to a small village in Alaska, with the help of the Russian Orthodox Church, to keep it safe until the war is over.”