This is a tribute to my father, Albert Georgijev, who as a 14 year old began to experience the atrocities leading up to the Great Purge which sought to 'remove' non-Russians and non-Russian culture from the country. From the late 1930s Stalin's political agenda was by design divisive and ruthlessly expedited in order to 'cleanse' the country of unwanted ethnicities.
This account has been put together to remember my father and what he and his kind had to endure. The main source is from my father's own recall, much of it dredging up events from an uncomfortable past. All early attempts to unload my father of past memories were unsuccessful: recall was simply too traumatic. Months later he loosened up a little; his telling came from the heart and accompanied with deep emotion.
The contribution from relatives in Estonia, Finland, and Sweden tied up many loose ends with little diversity between accounts so some commonality was achieved. I acknowledge that without the support from Tartu, Kivioli and Tallinn I could not have completed this work.
As a young boy Albert witnessed at first hand the gross humiliation of his parents: Vassili and Aliide.
Vassili, a simple farmer, was accused of being a 'Kulak', an "enemy of the people!" Under the new ruling of Stalin private ownership of more than eight acres of land warranted attention.
My father's mother, Aliide, would have been targeted on two counts: first as an Ingrian 'Finn', a non-Russian ethnic group, secondly, being religious was counter to State enforced mandatory atheism.
Estonia and Finland had for decades been close neighbours of Russia and their people settled in large numbers in the Ingria Oblast, west of St. Petersburg.
Albert (born Christmas Eve 1924) is seen here with his mother Aliide and sisters Ludmilla, Rosalie, Salme, Niina and Albert. This photo was taken about 1929 before the family home was re-appropriated as a collective shop.
Aliide has good reason to look anxious: By the late 1930s Stalin's propaganda machine was in full flow publicly demonising targeted groups namely: landowners, religious groups, employers and non-Russians.
These 'undesirables' or "Kulaks" were hunted down by secret police agents (eg. NKVD): an untouchable force answerable only to Stalin's office.
It should be noted that Aliide by this time had lost two of her children and now had to deal with the anxiety of losing her home and any income.
Madis and Maarja met in St Petersburg and married in 1884 in a Lutheran church. They lived temporarily in a converted sauna-haus in the Finnish village of Markuse whilst Madis built what Salme (my aunt) called a 'fine farm house'. In time this became a secure home for Aliide, Amalie, Emilie, Anna, and Aleksander. Madis worked very long hours in the field but all contributed to the farm's upkeep and on marrying the girls were gifted with farmland, livestock and furniture.
The Noole family became successful farmers selling surplus dairy produce and horse-feed in Gatchina and Leningrad.
Years later when such private enterprise was targeted by Stalin they were stripped of all they owned and ordered to be deported by train to Khazakstan (some family members said Siberia).
Knowing that they were unlikely to survive the journey in a bare freight wagon they decided to not comply and to face the consequences.
Aliide (Albert's mother), was one of five children brought up in Markuse.
Aliide was a skilled seamstress. She had trained in Narva, Estonia whilst staying with relatives and left vowing to return. Up until the 1930s travel between neighbouring countries was straight-forward as there was no strict border control.
Aliide was the proud owner of a sewing machine and provided a local service of tailoring and repairing cloth. Albert was able to recall with fondness the 'clickety-click' of the machine and soon learnt how to sew.
Her father was possibly the purchaser of the sewing machine given that he was considered wealthy and generous to his daughters.
Albert's father, Vassili Georgijev, was an orphan raised by a Finnish widow in Niiskovitsa village, Ingria. There is an absence of details regarding his background and the Bulgarian surname a mystery. Along the male DNA line there is no link with Bulgaria. It is possible the surname 'Georgijev' alighted from the wrongful translation of Georgy (Russo) to Georgi (Bulgar).
Vassili was not paid in money but in sacks of grain which he had to take to the local mill to be ground into flour. Morally unjust perhaps but having five children to feed meant he could not give up and take to drink as did many others. However, the unspeakable grievance and consequent indignity left him vulnerable and in despair. He managed to leave his post as farm labourer to transport produce from the fields to storage centres or to market. How he had acquired a horse and cart is not known.
In 1931 everyday family life became even more difficult for the family when the front part of their home was reappropriated as a 'collective' shop which sold farm produce and vodka. Although there was a shortage of food products the shop was well supplied with State vodka.
Plentiful vodka and access to the family's rooms compromised the safety of Aliide and her daughters. At times she had to protect the older girls from drunkards who had strayed into the family living space.
When intruders found their way into the house under the guise of the sewing machine being used illegally a physical altercation ensued with Aliide and her children combining to prevent its removal. The sewing machine was essential to the household as provided a small but needed income.
After many requests local authorities assented to the family moving to the vacated Markuse house of Aliide's parents. In the years of relative peace that followed two more children, Lonni (Leontiina) and Maria, were born.
Madis and Maarja were not exiled to Kazahkstan (or Siberia); when local agents came to collect them they could not be found. With help they hid in nearby woodland.
They were soon confronted but there is no information with regard to any public punishment. They were duly evicted and exiled to nearby Volosova with strict limitations to their movements.
Despite these warnings Madis and Maarja made clandestine visits to their friends and offspring.
Historical records, including Russian records, acknowledge the genocide of entire ethnic groups under Stalin from 1937. The 'Great Purge' executed by the NKVD (secret police) rid the country of so called 'enemies of the people'.
In order to weed-out non-Russian culture by its roots all school instruction had to be switched to Russian only whilst religion and churches were targeted. The education of Albert and younger sister Salme effectively ended and Aliide's faith could only continue covertly.
Under the political appointment of farm overseers agricultural yields across the country unsurprisingly fell despite huge government investment in mechanisation. The State response was to make fields longer by clearing rural homesteads. As incredulous as it sounds the family were evicted from their home in Markuse and watched as it was levelled. Much of the furniture and stout timbers were salvaged by onlookers while the family of seven were carted away with their bedding and clothing.
The family of seven sheltered in a nearby barn for more than two weeks until a Finnish family accommodated them as best they could in a one bedroom house! My father was able to recall that there was no floor space.
Vassili and Aliide were both resourceful and managed to find another home before the Winter of 1938 and in Spring 1941 moved about 30km north to Vitino where the Russian air force had established air fields. Here manual work occupied both Albert and Meeta but as the war with Germany progressed engineering sheds and runways were attacked by the Luftwaffe.
When the bombing of the Vitino area became intense the family left their home for the safety of woodland. Belongings were placed on the horse-driven cart once again and the family disappeared into the forest. Vassili set the family down alongside an embankment. A cutting was made into the side of it to provide a shelter. Here they were a safer distance away from the bombardment of Vitino.
However, a Russian patrol discovered them and ordered them to move out of the woods. Vassili as a Russian citizen would have been able to convince the patrol leader that they were Russian displaced persons seeking safety.
Vitino remained unsafe and the family were vulnerable. To the west lay Estonia, to the east St Petersburg, now Leningrad, and here Vassili had good friends who would provide shelter.
Getting ready to travel east Vassili was shocked to see families returning from Leningrad traumatised by their experience. The chilling news that the city was under seige and that people were starving ruled out that option. They had no choice other than to aim to go west to Narva. First, the family returned to the forest hideout for safety. Here they managed to live undiscovered for two weeks just miles from the front with Russian forces losing ground and destroying everything they left behind.
Albert recalled a morning in hiding that stayed fixed in his memory. He and his sisters had been woken early by his mother, told to be quiet and to stand outside. They were clearly being watched from the embankment above. Silhouetted and silent, figures stood still and couldn't be identified. Anxious about a Russian reprisal for ignoring the order to leave the family were relieved that the oncoming soldiers were a mix of Germans and Estonians.
Albert was able to recall his mother taking the lead on this occasion speaking Estonian, boiling water for these armed men to make hot drinks. Offering some provisions individuals in this infantry unit demonstrated an unexpected kinship that registered with Albert.
The leading officer directed the family to a checkpoint to obtain clearance papers in order to proceed west undetained.
NOTE: The writer emphasises that this account is based on the experience of one man, my father Albert. At this time he would not have been aware of the atrocities committed in Narva by the German militia, Einsatzgruppe A. Indeed, no 'Estonian' division was ever associated with war crimes or atrocities recorded.
By mid-March 1942 fighting had eased: German troops had taken over the area although Russsian aircraft continued attacking German positions.
In a silent and unearthly setting many homes and stores throughout the area were empty or damaged. Standing aloft and alone was a deserted old Romanov style manor house in which the two parents and seven children took refuge.
With a travel pass to Narva secured by Aliide the family began their long trek. At this point it's worth pointing out that although Aliide's security was more secure because of the German-Estii link her husband Vassili was now relatively less secure given his Russian nationality and the frequent German military checkpoints.
Early on the morning of the 22nd March 1942 Albert and Vassili hitched up the horse and loaded the wagon for the trip to Narva, the first Estonian town across the Russian border.
The journey took four days. Nights were spent alongside the road. Meagre rations went first to the children. All were tired and exhausted daily.
Albert and his father took turns to encourage their ailing horse forward whilst Aliide maintained a constant vigilance over the children.
Advancing German units presented few problems to refugees, mainly 'Baltic Ingrians' .. (ie. Estonians, Latvians, Lithuanians, Finns and native Izhorians ) ..desperately trying to get away from Russian rule. The persecution of the various Baltic nationalities served to unite them in their loss and in their enmity toward Stalin.
The Georgijevs reached the border town of Narva on the 25th March 1942.
Estonia at this time was occupied by German troops who were welcomed by those who had suffered under the previous Russian occupation (from June 1940). Vassili and Aliide had managed to get the children to the safety of Narva. Given their unhealthy state, both physically and mentally, the children were immediately quarantined, deloused, bathed and fed.
All managed to physically recover from the ordeal, all except Aliide. After days of suffering with typhus fever her body succumbed, she died on 24 May 1942, on the day of the Pentecost, at 6.45am in Narva hospital, a terrible loss for the family. The family were together at the funeral. Salme, 16 at the time, recalled that all were devastated and that she was left with the role of 'mother' to her three younger sisters.
From there on Aliide has been held in high esteem by family friends and relatives who rallied around and provided comfort.