mined all the beaches, there mightn't be any bathing at all this year. On the whole, they were pleased that the "Reds" had come, because it was really
"What happened to the Jews?" I asked. "Oh," said the fair-haired boy, "they say they bumped off an awful lot, but I didn't see it. Some were allowed to escape—with a little money you could buy
Odessa', they said. Anyway, that's what the Rumanians told us."
Professor Alexeanu, the civil governor of the Transniestria, had taken up his residence in the beautiful Vorontzov Palace on the Marine Promenade; in Soviet times it had been
turned into the Pioneers' Palace. Now it was going to be turned into the Pioneers' Palace once again. Alexeanu, people in Odessa said, had been rather easy-going, except that he gave the Siguranza an entirely free hand. When he was removed in February 1944, it was because of the terrible amount of embezzlement of which he was said to be guilty. He did not spend his money on civic welfare, but rather, on a nice pair of legs. True, he
pretended to be interested in the welfare of schools and the university, and it wasn't until the Germans came in February 1944 that the university laboratories and everything else were looted. Alexeanu, as somebody said, "was tall, long-faced, with brown hair, the kind of man women like". His
Alexeanu was succeeded as civil governor by General Potopianu, who had besieged
Odessa back in 1941. He was a bit less easy-going than Alexeanu, but anyway he hadn't much say any longer. For from February the Germans were, unofficially, in control of everything and, from April 1, officially.
Towards the end of the occupation, the Germans scrapped the very name of Transniestria, and took over the railways and every-thing else (much to Antonescu's indignation). They were greatly worried about two things—that some of the Rumanian generals in Odessa,
or elsewhere, might "do a Badoglio" on them; and about the spread of communism and defeatism among the Rumanian soldiers.
Before the Germans had taken over, Transniestria had thirteen districts, each under its own prefect; in Odessa itself there was a mayor, Herman Pintia, formerly mayor of
Kishenev. The police was Rumanian, on the lines of the Soviet militia; but there was, moreover, the Siguranza.
Pintia was deposed by the Germans who appointed in his place a Russian quisling called Petushkov. He was the last mayor of Odessa. He arrived on March 24 and left again on April 9. He had been Mayor of Stalino under the Germans; he was an engineer, a fat
podgy little man of forty-six; a German major did all his work.
Under the Rumanians, thirty churches were open in Odessa, among them a few Lutheran
and Roman Catholic churches. The Orthodox clergy at Odessa were ordered by the
Rumanians to sever all connection with the Moscow Patriarchy, and to accept the
authority of the Metropolitan Nikodim of Odessa, a man who saw eye to eye with the
new masters. The Rumanians sent a church mission of twelve priests to Odessa, headed by one Scriban, a theology professor from Bucharest. These priests took over some of the best houses in Odessa, including those of the Metropolitan and other Bishops; they also took over all the best parishes. Father Vasili, the Priest of the Uspensky Cathedral, told me that, as a result, the Russian priests were put "in a highly unfavourable position, and many were reduced to finding themselves new parishes in the countryside." Father Vasili declared that the Rumanian priests in Odessa went in for highly riotous living, and the worst offender of all was Scriban himself. Scriban had made a racket of his job: he would authorise Russian priests to take this or that parish, and the better the parish, the higher Ms rake-off.
Finally, he was sent back to Bucharest, because his behaviour was becoming too
scandalously notorious, and instead there came the Metropolitan Vissarion of Bessarabia and Czernowitz. He made a solemn and triumphal entry into Odessa, with Rumanian
cavalry escorting his carriage, but soon afterwards great rows started between him,