MEMOIRS: 1944-1954
This is my English translation of an incredible ordeal suffered by my late mother and her first husband as they fled their native Estonia, in advance of the invading Russians. The memoir was given to me by my mother without any specific instructions. Since both have passed away, I believe it is now time the world should hear about this epic journey to freedom for my mother and journey into despair for her partner. I will post 4 pages per day over the coming month until it is all published. Read it, share it, learn from it.
Part I
Tallinn, September 1944. The German occupation army is fleeing Estonian territory. The Russian front lines are creeping ever closer.
During almost the entire occupation period, I was still serving the Estonian government. Only towards the end of the occupation was I conscripted into the German army. Naturally then, fearing the arrival of the Russian forces, I was forced to flee. In no way did I want to travel through Germany, and I therefore chose to escape to Sweden. That was my very definite choice. But this avenue was by no means without danger or hindrance, since the German army had placed many barriers to that escape. Nevertheless it had to be risked. My partner agreed wholeheartedly with that choice, and so began our journey on September 16, 1944.
While searching for a safe and quick passage to Sweden, I had the good fortune of finding two opportunities to leave on September 21st; both by motorboat. One at 12:00 noon and the other at night, just in case the first launch had to be abandoned. But fate would decide otherwise!
Without any particular need or objective, I went through the office on the morning of the 21st at about 10:00 am. There I found some colleagues who similarly had missed early evacuation to Germany. One of them turned to me with some questions and offered another alternative. He was planning to drive at about 12:00 with one of his friends to Saaremaa. According to him, there would await a motorboat with several places available, and heading for Sweden. The exit from Saaremaa would be the following day. He offered me two places on that boat, which was much larger than the one I had earlier planned to take. And there were still several places left, in addition to those that had already been reserved. I decided to grab that opportunity and rushed home. My wife and I hastily packed essentials in our knapsacks.
As promised, at exactly 12:00 noon a van pulled in front of our house. There were already ten people inside, among them my colleague with his family. Without wasting any time, we headed off. The bombing had already started, and explosions rained too close for comfort, in the city harbour and docks. We made a quick stop at Klooga, where another person boarded and at 11:00 pm we arrived safely in Virtsu.
Since the fog was not forecast to hit the islands until morning, we had to stay the night in Virtsu. We were invited to stay with strangers who lived near the launch area. With lots of booze amongst us, we proceeded to fortify our spirits. Not until late at night did we finally hit the sack. It was a warm night, and my wife and I decided to sleep in the van. It was parked in the cool barn, and we had some concern about the security of our baggage. Word had got around, that the Germans were not allowing anybody wearing an army uniform on to the island. So I quickly changed into a suit, and stashed my uniform under the barn.
Early in the morning, on the 22nd of September, we pushed the van onto the barge, and were soon on the island of Kuivastu.
When we arrived at the launch area, we were dumbfounded to find that the boat had left the previous day without waiting for us! We spent the night in a nearby farm, and all were in hopeful agreement that with a little more searching we would surely find another boat.
From the 23rd until the 29th, all members of our party searched diligently and put the word out that we were willing to pay handsomely for passage to Sweden. No luck. All the islanders who had boats, had already left, and the only boats left were too small to risk the journey across the gulf. The autumn storms had already begun, and nobody was willing to risk the trip. The sea could turn violent in a matter of hours, and the journey itself would last several. The Swedish navy speedboats were no longer doing patrols, probably out of fear of the aerial bombardments. We drove the entire length of the island looking for a way out - without any luck.
On the 29th of September, after spending the night at a farm near the Jaagurahu harbour, we spotted several small boats in the harbour. We thought they might be German army patrol boats. One of our party went to make some inquiries, and came back wit the news that the captain of one of the boats had agreed to give us passage to Ventspils (near Vindav), where it was then possible to get further passage to Germany. We held a conference, and everyone in our party, save for one gentleman who had managed to secure passage on a “sumplaev” (freighter) to Sweden, was in agreement to accept the German captain’s offer. All hope of escaping to Sweden had disappeared. I regretfully agreed to this choice. We cried about the missed opportunity to get to Sweden, but escape from the Russians was our priority, even if it meant traveling to Germany.
Later on the same day, we made our way to the harbour, where we spent the night under a bombed out roof in a barn. In the morning of September 30 we were allowed to board the vessels. Our number had swelled to 50 by this time, among whom one was the writer Hendrik Visnapuu. Each boat took between 6-8 people. We began our sea journey at noon. The sea was quite choppy, waves breaking over the bow, and I fell seasick soon after. I was so disoriented that my friends helped me lay down like a carpet near one of the gunwales, good for nothing but ballast! I did not awake until the morning of October 1 as we neared the Ventspil harbour. Thankfully over my seasickness.
Aah, my memory. I turn back briefly to Saaremaa, since I forgot to mention one episode which should be of interest to those reading this memoir. I’m not very superstitious, but this story which I now recount, made me think very black and uncomfortable thoughts. Like I have mentioned, between 22-29 of September, we traveled up and down Saaremaa, looking for any passage out. We had plenty of provisions and we had good fortune to obtain even more. Since we were all edgy and nervous, we spent much of this time under a fog so to speak. Now pay attention: on the second or third day after arrival in Saaremaa, during this boat search, I happened to check out the time on my watch. It had stopped ticking, I shook it, turned the gears but to no avail. Was this somehow an omen? I also had a pocket watch. I took that out to determine the hour, and what does this mean - the pocket watch had also stopped! I shook that one, turned the knob, and determined that the gears were broken. What coincidence, both watches had stopped at the identical time! I soon turned to go back to the farm, where awaited my wife. I told her about the watches and what did she respond? Her watch was also on strike! It had stopped about one hour previously, about the same time as mine! Have you heard of such a happening? The watches showed me time for years, and now, together, my watch and my wife’s stopped showing time on the same day, at approximately the same hour. We fretted over this, because we couldn’t think of anything more ominous!
