Just Send Me Word: A True Story of Love and Survival in the Gulag (3 page)

BOOK: Just Send Me Word: A True Story of Love and Survival in the Gulag
13.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Once she saw he was in trouble, Sveta came back to Lev. For the next three years they were inseparable. Lev would meet her on her way to the university in the mornings. He would wait for her at the end of lectures, take her back to Leningrad Prospekt and cook for her or go with her to the theatre or the cinema and then walk her home. Poetry was an important element of their relationship. They would read together, send each other poems and introduce each other to new poetry. Akhmatova and Blok were Sveta’s favourite poets, but she also liked a poem by Elena Ryvina which she recited to Lev one evening on a walk through Moscow’s streets. The poem spoke of fleeting happiness:
The glow of your cigarette
first fades, then burns afresh.
We pass along Rossi’s
4
street,
where the lamps burn in vain.
 
Our rare encounter is shorter
than a step, a moment, a breath.
Why, dear architect,
is your street so short?
Sometimes, if Lev had to work late and could not see Sveta, he would pass by her house at night. On one of these occasions he left this note:
Svetka! I came to see how you are and to remind you that tomorrow, which is the 29th, we would like to see you at our place. I decided not to just barge into your apartment because it’s late – half past eleven – and two of your windows are already dark, and two others are dim; I might wake everybody and give them a fright. Come and see me if you’re free. Greetings to your mother and to Tanya.
In January 1940, Lev’s grandmother died. Sveta was by Lev’s side when they buried her in the Vagankovskoe cemetery.
The next month, Lev became a technical assistant at the Lebedev Physics Institute (known in Russian as FIAN). He was still in his final year at university but he had been recommended by Naum Grigorov, a friend from the Physics Faculty who had just started at FIAN, and this was a chance to break into research. Named for Pyotr Lebedev, the Russian physicist who first measured the pressure exerted by light reflected or absorbed by a material body, FIAN was one of the world’s leading centres of atomic physics, and in the vanguard of its research programme was the cosmic rays project, in
which Lev became involved. Because he was studying during the day, Lev often worked the evening shift in the laboratory. Sveta would stay late in the library and then walk the 3 kilometres from the Physics Faculty to FIAN on Miussky Square. She would sit on a bench in the courtyard and wait for Lev, who usually appeared at about eight o’clock to walk her home. On one occasion Lev was so exhausted that he fell asleep in the laboratory and did not wake up until after nine. Sveta was still waiting for him on the bench. She laughed when he told her he had been asleep.
Lev on Mount Elbrus, 1940
.
That summer Lev went on a scientific expedition to Mount Elbrus in the Caucasus. High up in the mountains FIAN had a research base where Lev’s group could study the effects of cosmic rays closer to their entry point into the earth’s atmosphere. Lev spent three months at the base. ‘We climbed up and reached our shelter quite quickly yesterday,’ he wrote to Sveta. ‘I feel splendid, I’ve got a ferocious appetite and a host of unforgettable memories.’
Sveta, meanwhile, was on summer leave from the university and was working at the Lenin Library, which was then being built in a modern concrete block near the Kremlin. ‘Do you know, there’s a lovely square in front of the library now, and it’s all been planted with shrubs and flowers,’ she wrote to Lev. ‘Who’s going to give me a bouquet of flowers for my birthday?’ Lev was due to return from the Caucasus on 1 September, ten days before Sveta would turn twenty-three, and he always gave her flowers on her birthday. Until then she would have to make do with letters.
3 August 1940
Levenka,
My first impulse when I got home today was to ask if any letters had come for me, but they all began to tease me about you, so I pretended that it was Irina’s postcard I was waiting for. But then Tanya said – with so much emphasis – that there was no postcard from Irina that I knew there must be something from you, so I followed her from room to room (all the doors are still left open in our house so you can go round the rooms for as long as you like)
5
begging her to give me your letter. Mama eventually took pity on me and gave it to me.
Sveta wrote to Lev with her news. She had been offered a permanent job at the library.
They won’t find anybody better than me. I know the layout of the rooms, the cupboards in the rooms and the shelves … I know the periodicals inside out, and with my knowledge of the Roman alphabet I can work out the month, year, name and price of any journal in any language except Chinese … I have a head on my shoulders which may not be filled with the finest brains but is not filled with cotton wool either … Vera Ivanovna said that I’d be group manager in a year. If I wanted to stay at the library my whole life, this would be a good start to a career. But I don’t want to spend my whole life there so … on Monday I’ll say no.
Lev, don’t worry about my health. I told you that either my mood depends on my condition or my condition depends on my mood. At any rate, you’ll be able to see from my handwriting that I’m calm and untroubled, which means that I’m not in any pain or ill with anything. Mama says that I have tuberculosis. Her reason – my weight loss. But you know, with the kind of diet I’ve had it would be difficult to expect anything else, and I don’t have any other symptoms.
In June 1941, Lev was due to go with his FIAN colleagues on a second expedition to Mount Elbrus. On the morning of Sunday 22 June his team was at the institute, finishing its preparations for the trip. Lev was in excellent spirits. He had just passed his final exams at the university and had been told by the faculty committee assigning jobs to graduates that he was one of just four students chosen to go on to FIAN for research on the cosmic rays project. Sveta had returned to the Physics Faculty, now a year behind, and they were happy together. Lev and his colleagues were packing the final pieces of equipment when the leader of their team came in. ‘We’re not going anywhere,’ he said. ‘Have you heard the radio?’ At noon that day there had been a special broadcast by Vyacheslav Molotov, the Soviet foreign minister. ‘Today, at 4 o’clock in the morning,’ he had announced in a trembling voice, ‘German forces descended on our country, attacked our frontiers in many places, and bombed our cities – Zhitomir, Kiev, Sevastopol, Kaunas and others.’
The German assault was so powerful and swift that it took the Soviet forces completely by surprise. Stalin had ignored intelligence reports of German preparations for an invasion, and the Soviet defences were in total disarray. They were easily overrun by the nineteen Panzer divisions and fifteen motorized infantry divisions
that spearheaded the German invasion force. The Soviet air fleet lost over 1,200 aircraft during the first morning of the war, most of them destroyed by German bombers while they were parked on the ground. Within hours German special forces had advanced deep into Soviet territory and were cutting telephone lines and seizing bridges in preparation for the main attack.
That afternoon the Komsomol of Moscow University called a meeting in the auditorium and unanimously passed a resolution to mobilize the entire student body for the defence of the country. Everybody wanted to sign up. By the end of June, more than a thousand students and teachers had enrolled in the 8th (Krasnopresnenskaia) Volunteer Artillery Division, including around fifty from the Physics Faculty. Lev was among them. ‘There’s a fair amount of confusion here at the moment,’ he wrote to Sveta’s family from the assembly point on 6 July, ‘so I can’t tell you anything definite about our prospects. The only thing that’s more or less known is that we are going to be living and studying here until we’re called up for military service by the draft board.’
Lev was shaken by the outbreak of the war. For the first few days he could not conceive what it would mean. His research, his life in Moscow, his relationship with Sveta – everything was now up in the air. ‘We are at war,’ he kept saying to himself in disbelief.
Although he had volunteered to go to the front, Lev was worried about taking a position of responsibility. Stalin’s terror had left the Soviet forces desperately short of officers, and novices like Lev were being called upon to lead men into battle. After only two years of military training, Lev had reached the rank of junior lieutenant, which meant he could be placed in charge of a platoon of thirty men, but he had no confidence in his tactical abilities. In the end he was given the command of a smaller supply unit made up of six students and two older men from the university. He felt happier about being in a unit of students, inexperienced people like himself, who, he thought, would be more forgiving than a soldier from the working class if he made a mistake.
Lev’s unit was to move supplies from the Moscow stores to a
communications battalion at the front. There were two truck-drivers, two labourers, a cook, an accountant and a storeman under his command. As they drove towards the front, they saw scenes of chaos that belied the propaganda of the Soviet press. In Moscow it had been reported that the Soviet forces were repelling the Germans, but Lev found them retreating in chaos: the woods were full of soldiers and civilians, and the roads blocked with refugees fleeing east towards Moscow. Untold thousands had been killed. By 13 July Lev had reached the forests near Smolensk, a city under siege by the Germans.
Svetik, we’re living in the woods and I’m doing household chores … I’m supposed to feed everybody here, including the most high-ranking officials, who don’t so much ask for what they want to eat as just shout for it … There are some advantages – relative freedom during trips to stores. Sveta, there’s absolutely nowhere for you to write to me – nobody here knows where we’ll be from one day to the next. The only way of getting news from you is to call in and see you at home during one of our trips. I don’t know when that will be.
On these journeys between Moscow and the front Lev would carry letters for the soldiers and their relatives. He would also see Sveta and her family in between his visits to the army warehouses. There was one trip in July when he missed Sveta but saw her parents, who ‘fed and watered’ him, as he put it in a letter that he left for her; and a second visit in early September, when Sveta had returned to the university. For Lev the connection to her family was almost as important as the time he spent with her; it made him feel that he belonged. On one of these last trips Sveta’s father gave him a piece of paper on which he had written the addresses of four close friends and relatives in various cities of the Soviet Union: these were the people to whom he should turn for help in locating Sveta and her family if they were evacuated from Moscow while he was absent at the front. Although he had never said as much, the paper made it clear that Sveta’s father saw Lev as a son.
There was one last visit to Moscow. Lev knew it was his final chance to see Sveta, because they had warned him at the supply depot that nothing more would be issued to his battalion. Telling his drivers that he would meet them later, Lev ran from the depot to Sveta’s house. She was unlikely to be there – it was the middle of the day – but he went in any case to say goodbye to somebody. Perhaps Sveta’s mother or her sister would be home. Lev knocked on the door. It was opened by Sveta’s mother, Anastasia. Stepping inside the entrance corridor, Lev explained that he was in Moscow only for a few more hours and that he would then be leaving for the front. He wanted to say thank you and goodbye. Lev did not know whether he should kiss her; she had never shown much warmth or emotion. He made a bow and moved towards the door. But Anastasia stopped him. ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘Let me kiss you.’ She embraced Lev. He kissed her hand and left.

Other books

The Path to James by Radford, Jane
The Girls by Helen Yglesias
The Killing Ground by Jack Higgins
Lulu in LA LA Land by Elisabeth Wolf
Tough To Love by Rochelle, Marie
The Liberators by Philip Womack
Gunpowder God by John F. Carr
Binary Star by Sarah Gerard
Art of a Jewish Woman by Henry Massie