The Russian Century: A Hundred Years of Russian Lives

The machinery start! I thought, that’s it. Then the whistle blew which means all the crew must step ashore and be lined up. There came four NKVD man with four German wolfdogs, and everybody shout out his name. Then the NKVD man say that if anybody is hidden in the boat these dogs will tear him to pieces. The man standing next to me turned a green color and I got terribly frightened. It was something so undignifying hunting down the man with the dog. All this time, you must remember, I was an idealistic Soviet.

Well, they went on the boat and started with the top deck and suddenly you heard this barking and screaming and saw the NKVD bringing a man all bloody and his flesh torn away. My God, I don’t like to think about it! Then we find out that two sailors were trying to smuggle out this priest. The boat was running on coal and in this place where the coal is they dig a hole and put a pipe so the priest can breathe, but the dogs find him and almost tear him to pieces. A very illustrating story of life in Russia. I was actually sick.

They took the priest and the two sailors away and we went back on the boat. When we came to our cabins it was just as if a cyclone came. Everything was on floor. The NKVD search everything.

Finally we sailed, but here I must explain that when you sail from Leningrad you go through the Neva River and a narrow strait until you come to this island and then on to the ocean. Up to this island is Russian water but when you go behind this island you are out of Russian water and the NKVD boat can’t go. The crew was praying to get on the outside of this island and I was praying too. Why I felt so guilty and afraid I don’t know. I had nothing behind me but the best work, but I was affected by this fear.

Then just when we were on the Russian side of this island the machinery went -bump, -bump,-bump. We understood the captain had got word to stop

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Chapter Twenty-Two

the boat. The NKVD, we knew, must have been questioning the two sailors and they had told something. And so it was. They had told about one more man and the NKVD came and got him and took him off the boat.

I was a sailor third class and I did everything—washing the floors, polishing the brass and doing everything that they call in Russia unqualified work. I organized a literary circle and was so happy for it was such a success. Man attend it 100 per cent.

We got our money in English—nine pounds a month—about $45. If a sailor has a family at home they took something for family, and pay them in rubles. Also we got a ration: sardines, cocoa, herring and all like these things. None of us eat it. We always save it and when we come to a Russian port there will be a lot of people there waiting, for they know every Russian sailor gets this ration. We weren’t permitted to sell it, but it was the most profitable thing there is.

We came to Hamburg. The first officer called me to his office. “I hope you do understand,” he said, “that I’m not capitalistic inclined, but we are coming to a capitalistic country and Russian citizens must look a little more presentable in capitalistic country where they notice everything.”

He was right to speak to me. I was poorly dressed. The boat furnished working clothes—overalls and wooden shoes that went clack, clack, clack, but I had nothing for the leisure. A sailor said he would take me to a place where I could get cheap things. I bought shoes made of material—not even leather, and an advertised suit. I spent altogether $3.25. I can’t tell you how I hated to spend money then on clothes.

We were the first Soviet boat that came to Germany after the war. The Russian consulate gave a dinner for the crew and for the first course we had in little glass dishes a mixture made from cherries and other fruits and we just giggled and giggled; we thought we were so capitalistic. And they gave us presents. I got a thermos, the first one I ever saw, to keep drinks hot and cold. My God, why I need it?

While we were in Hamburg the machinery of the boat broke down and we had to stay there for six weeks. Two sailors and I rented a bicycle and we went to many places in Germany. Then we came back to Hamburg and we bought together one bottle of champagne for $2.00 and saw night club entertaining. Girls were making stomach dances. They had on chiffon pants and small brassieres that just covered these little things. And their stomachs start to make this ocean movement. Believe me I never went through such an experience as these stomach dances. I saw it in its full swing—my first capitalistic entertainment. The sailor I was with got so excited with this movement, he cried, “God, isn’t that something?” but in Russian even more stronger, and slapped this strange woman, almost naked, who was next to him, on the back. And immediately the man with naked woman hit him between the eyes. The

Nila Magidoff, Only to Travel! Only to Live!

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