Evening star., 1923-12-23
Washington Star Photo.

had sought refuge in the Caucasus,
hoping against hope that events
would quiet down and that they
, should be able to come back to normal
! conditions in the close future.
The little health resort where we
lived was packed. so we had no lack
Of company. Every one was trying
to forget what had been seen and
not to think Of the things which the
future held. There were many who
lived up to the advice to eat. drink
and be merry, for tomorrow You may
die" The pulse Of life vas abnor-
mally fast. Money was spent like
water. and, although no one got sat
isfaction out of this hilarious mood,
all tried to pretend that they were
having a very gay time. Then came
the crash.
THE bolshevik troops occupied the
Caucasus and the fun began.
During the following six months our
house was ransacked and looted seven
tyfour times. Every member Of our
family had been under arrest. Ny elder
brothers were condemned to death and
killing their escort on their way to
execution and had to hide in the hills
was left at the age Of thirteen the
eldest man in the family. In other
families there was less than that.
There were no men at all. In some re-
spects l liked the situation. felt ex-
tremely important and people made a
lot of fuss over me, both Of which are
productive of agreeable sensations Life
was full OF excitement and there was
no school.
Having sketched the brightest side, I
shall show some aspects OF the darkest
side of life in those days.
I had Joined an organization of boys.
mostly younger than myself, who tried
to annoy our enemies as much as we
could and in several instances we were
quite successful. So much SO that the
authorities paid more attention to us
than was pleasant. We were all ar
rested.
At the trial we were brought into the
little boys. and were Judged by three
judges without an advocate. Two of
them were Jews. The list of or crimes
was read and our leader was Pat under
cross
He refused to give evidence that
was asked OF him. To get informa-
tion they needed the bolsheviks in
this instance used a very simple
method. In the cellar they had one
Of those old-fashioned presses that
once were used for bookbinding. One
Of the boys hands was put into this
press and two .executionists began
slowly crushing 1t. We were all
bound hand and foot and compelled
to watch this process. Our leader
didn't say a word.
After fve minutes of this torture
he lost consciousness. That evening
he was shot. The rest of US were
held as hostages dependent upon the
operations Of our friends. which. of
course, did not stop their activities.
After a week Of life in a dirty
prison. without any food except that
which was brought by our own
families, half Of which was never is
sued to us, we were all sentenced to
death.
The psychology of one condemned
to death is hard to describe. Fear
has no part in It. One feels ones
self smothered In a sea Of thick, gray
mist. Sometimes the most inappro-
pirate ideas possess one. I remember
one Of the boys relating a silly story
out of his own past. and we all began
to laugh. We laughed as though the
whole bunch of US had gone mad, and
we were still laughing when the
guard came to lead us out.
The place of execution was on q hill
about FIVE miles out Of town. As the
bolsheviks were considerate enough
not to want to spoil our clothes, we
were stripped bare in the prison and
then loaded onto q truck, bound, and
travelled those five miles in q bitter
frost.
There were two executioners.
When we reached the place they got
to work. They shot. When six had
fallen they seemed to sicken OF their
job. so they told the rest OF US to run,
warning that they would fire on us
as we ran. We ran as we had never
run before or since.
A January night was closing in, the
snow was deep. we had nowhere to 20.