My Life and Times · Chapter 8 of 10

Flight from Latvia, 1944

The Russians terrorized Latvia the first time for one year and then the Germans came in and threw them out. After that, in turn, the Russians forced the Germans out and ruled Latvia for 50 years. After several years of the German occupation, it became obvious that things were not going well for them and that they were in retreat all over the front. In anticipation of the return of the Reds, Papa and I decided to flee Latvia. At first, our goal was to go to Sweden. On the Kurzeme seaside, we knew of a boat that carried people across to Sweden. So, I closed the drugstore and together with Māte, Rūta and Pēteris, journeyed to the seaside, where we were able to find an empty fisherman’s house, whose owners had already fled to Sweden. Papa remained in Talsi, where he had his workplace. We had to hide our intentions from the Germans, who were not far away and tended to check on us now and then. After a while, a young man who was the local liaison for would-be refugees, found us and told us that there would be a boat soon. Rūta, while walking around the area, had become acquainted with Vitolds, who was in the German army (Note: Latvian SS unit). He thereupon deserted and came to stay with us. Rūta once had an incident while walking on the beach. A German officer came up to her and ordered her to follow him. Rūta was no doubt alarmed by this even though the Germans were not generally known to do the barbarities that the Russians did. The officer took her to the army staff headquarters, took her pass (Note: an internal passport and citizen’s ID), sat her down at a table, dumped an entire pile of socks with holes on the table and told her she would get her pass back when she had finished mending the socks. Rūta was very good at this and the officer apparently was satisfied. Rūta got her pass back and as fast as she could, hurried away from the army staff building. We were relieved to see her come back after lots of worry.

We had another incident while staying at the fisherman’s house at Kurzeme’s seaside. One day a young man stopped by the house and told us: “Tonight at 8 here at the beach there will be a boat that will take you to a larger boat anchored farther out at sea. This boat will leave tonight for Sweden.” Papa was not with us yet because he was still working in Talsi. There was no way to let him know because we had no phone. Anyway, at the designated time, we all went down to the beach: I, Māte, Pēteris, Rūta, and Vitolds. We hoped that Papa would find out where we had gone and would be able to get over there by himself. We had to be quiet and hide behind some bushes. At that time, the Germans had forbidden anyone to leave Latvia’s borders. It was a strange feeling – behind practically every bush someone was hiding but everyone was very quiet. Pēteris once started to fuss and make like he was going to cry. (Pēteris was at the stage where he referred to himself in the third person. i.e., “Pēteris wants this or that…, not I want this or that”). Nearby was a rough looking man, who snarled “If you don’t quiet that brat, I’ll throw him into the sea.” However, this enterprise did not work out. The forest warden, who was the organizer, had started to drink and finally came several hours late. In the meantime, a storm had started. We saw the little ship at sea giving light signals, but because of the large waves, we were afraid to get into the boat. Only a few young men who were deserters from the army, were able to do this. With their heavy boots, they waded through the cold water to the boat that took them to the ship. I hope they were able to make it to the other shore.

We stayed for a few more days at the fisherman’s house and when Papa finally arrived, we bribed a German truck driver to take us to Ventspils. There we rented the upper story of a house from a pharmacy student acquaintance of mine. In Ventspils, there was also a Latvian soldiers’ staff headquarters, where we went to ask advice about whether to stay in Latvia or go to Germany. There they gave us no concrete advice, except to say that everyone had to make their own decision, but if someone had worked for the Germans, they would be well advised to go. Since Papa’s work place had ordered him to go along with the authorities to help them find out which farmers had not fulfilled their requisitions, such as meat, potatoes, lard, etc, then as it turned out, he had in fact worked with the Germans. The Germans were giving space in their ships to refugees who wanted to go to Germany. So, one day our group was standing at Ventspils harbor, waiting the order to board the ship. I had a scarf around my head and on top of it, a hat (or maybe the other way around). Vitolds and Rūta were having a good time making comments about my headgear. But I lifted my head and ignored them. Slowly we started to head toward the ship. We were shown space in the very bottom of the ship. There, we women sat crowded and hunched over all night long. The ship stopped in Danzig (Note: A German city on the Baltic, now called Gdansk and part of Poland), where we had to disembark. There Māte almost fell into the sea. It was a foggy day and the land and water were one indistinguishable gray mass. Māte, not used to these conditions, went to the side of the boat and raised her leg to step out and had she done that, she would have fallen into the sea and probably become lost. I guess at the last moment she saw the foam of the water. So, thank God, she stayed with us. She raised not only Pēteris but also Ilze and the twins. Thanks to mate, Rūta and I were able to work because we had someone to watch the “little ones.”