Ae
PAGE TWO
It was about this time that I had
an interesting talk with a Russian
prisoner named Twigymjer who had
been sentenced to ten years at
forced labor. He was an intelligent
man but unresponsive to efforts to
draw him out. One night, one of
my colleagues roused me and sug-
gested I go outside to look at the
aurora borealis. It was truly a mag-
nificent sight. Rainbow hued pil-
lars of light quivered across the
sky, sometimes changing into a
throbbing bright red glare. I stood
entranced by this dazzling display.
As I watched the multicolored vib-
rating canopy overhead, I noticed
that a man had halted near me.
It was taciturn Turgyenyev. He
seemed to be in a state of dreamy
rapture. We started to talk. He
told me he had at one time been
a high NKVD official in the Moscow
area. It had been one of his duties
to supply labor for work in the
mines and in industry. My curios-
ity aroused, I asked him how he
did this.
“Well,” he said, “just imagine
me sitting in my office. The tele-
phone rings. It’s an order to round
up 500 people for a labor shipment
in such and such a region. So I
get busy. I know I must fill the
order. If I don’t, I'll be in the
shipment myself.” He paused, as if
wondering whether he should go
on.
“How did you go about it?” I
asked.
“I would take a list of prisoners
in the local jails and those whose
preliminary investigation had been
completed. Let's say I find 200
people. Then I take a list of sus-
pected people who are still free. I
can hasten matters by pinning
something on each of them and
having them arrested. That gives
me another 200 candidates. I only
need 100 more.”
Suddenly he gave me a long,
anxious look.
“I shouldn’t be telling you these
things. I made a mistake even to
begin. You know, don’t you, that
by giving you such information we
are both taking great risks?”
“You can rest easy,” I countered.
“I’m not going to tell anyone about
it.’ ’
“Welly I should not have men-
tioned it anyway. But since I
started, I might as well finish. Only
remember that my fate is in your
hands. You're the first person I'm
telling this to. It was awful but I
had no other way out. It was what
I had been taught to do. To make
up the quota of 500, I took up any
list of people I happened to have
around, if only the telephone di-
rectory. I had to be extra careful
not tc include a big person in the
Communist Party or the NKVD. I
would then give the order to arrest
these people and my assignment
was carried out.”
“Why did you get ten years?” .I
asked.
“Don’t ask me anything else,” he
replied. “I've already told you too
Casting a worried look in every
direction, Turgyenyev walked away.
Clearly he was quite dissatisfied
with himself. I forgot about the
spectacle in the sky. I was stunned.
I felt as if I had opened Pandora’s
box and it had revealed to me a
tory. Here was an additional bit of
evidence that in the Soviet Union
no citizen can be sure of the
mOrrow.
Four days after this conversation,
Turgyenyev was crushed under-
neath a falling tree.
/
had not permitted him to move.
aside and get out of the tree's way.
The Rumanians used to tell us
many interesting things. They had
been in numerous camps during
their unofficial tour of the Soviet
Union, including a camp in the ex-
treme northern part of the Urals,
where there were many Soviet
prisoners. One day one of these
Soviet “enemies of the people” who
had been sentenced to fifteen years
at forced labor, seized an axe and
hacked to death the camp com-
mandant, the taskmaster and the
woman doctor. Following the triple
murder, he calmly proceeded to his
barrack. His comrades ran after
him and pelted him with questions.
“Why did you kill the command-
ant? Compared with others, he
wasn’t such a bad egg. And the
doctor never hurt us either.”
“You want to know why I did it?
I had to kill someone. The doctor
just happened to get in my way.
I'm 45 now. My sentence is for 15
years. They won't let me go until
I'm 60 years old, I'm so worn out
by work and this life that I know
I won’t be able to stay alive for
more than two or three years. Now
at least they'll take me to a city
to put me ontrial. I'll see what a
city looks like again and there'll be
new faces. I don’t care if they give
me another ten or fifteen years.”
I was told this was a common
phenomenon—this disappearance of
the concept of guilt and punish-
ment, the failure to think in terms
of good and evil.
There is no capital punishment
in the Soviet Union. But every per-
son locked up in one of the tens of
thousands of concentration camps
throughout the length and breadth
of the Soviet Union has, to all in-
tents and purposes, had a death
sentence pronounced against him.
Only those whose crippled state has
placed them in the invalid category
and who work on the camp prem-
ises, have, despite their greatly re-
duced rations, any chance of sur-
viving.. Those who are compelled te
work in the forest or in the mines,
because they are in the first, sec-
ond or third categories have an
exceedingly tough time of it.
The return of every work brigade
to the camp in the evening, was a
heartbreaking sight. They were
mere shadows of human beings
with waxen complexions, feverish
eyes, open mouths gasping for air,
eyebrows, eyelashes and mustaches
covered with icicles, and with torn,
frequently bloodstained clothing,
and feet wrapped in rags. Many
times I would see a Polish veteran
of the Warsaw Uprising carrying
on his back a Communist Ruman-
ian Jew or a German who had
fainted from fatigue or hunger. The
frightfulness of our conditions had
caused racial, national or political
differences among us to melt away.
We were bound together by our
common misery.
For many of these people the
fact that they had by a supreme
effort of will dragged themselves
back to the camp did mean the
end of their suffering. The report
about their daily output had al-
ready been sent into the office. If
any one of them had not achieved
100% of his norm, he would spend
several nights in a row in the camp
jail, where he would receive a sub-
sistence ration of bread (300
grams) and a thin soup once a day.
As in almost every camp jail, he
would stand in the knee-deep mud
all night, for he would have nothing
to sit or lie down on. And he would
Main Office
Market and Franklin
work.
The “healthy” people of the for-
est all envied us invalids and sick
ones. They did whatever they could
to get into this fortunate category
themselves. The Rumanians had in
their long years of camp experience
picked up many tricks of the trade.
From them we learned how to in-
duce a high fever, weaken the heart
or cause the legs to swell.
A recommended method of ach-
ieving a fever was to inject kero-
sene or benzine into the heel, which
was a spot where the pricking
would not show. Such an injection
could be bought from the Ruman-
ians for two full days’ bread ra-
tions. The reaction was almost im-
mediate, the temperature rising to
104 and higher and staying there
for a fortnight. The camp doctor
had to excuse the patient from
work and even send him to the
hospital. If the heart was weak,
such an experiment often ended in
death. But all prisoners without
exception were so dispirited that
they were prepared to risk death
just so they might have a few days
of peace.
Another dangerous measure was
drinking a brew made from tobacco.
This resulted in almost chronic dig-
estive ailments and also affected
the heart.
The simplest and most “childish”
procedure was to tie a piece of
string or a rag (the latter was pre-
ferable inasmuch as it left less of
a mark than did the string) tightly
around the leg above the knee in
the evening. The would-be invalid
then fell asleep. In the morning
both legs were impressively swol-
len. The “sick man” would go te
the doctor in the morning and com-
plain about his heart. If he hap-
pened to find the doctor in a good
mood, he was excused from work.
Such practices were hazardous
not only because they could really
ruin an individual's health, but also
because a discovery of the seat of
the trouble would bring the culprit
before a special court on a charge
of sabotage. The standard verdict
in such cases was at least five
years.
Those in the O.K. (Oddihayush-
chaya Kompanya) had their own
method of prolonging their stay in
the rest ‘group. As I mentioned be-
fore, the O.K. consisted of people
from various work categories who
were completely run down physi-
cally. They received about 700
grams of bread—the normal ration
of the work brigades, and not the
invalid ration. In general one was
sent to the O.K. for a period of two
weeks, at the end of which he was
expected to be improved. A prison-
er’s remaining in the O.K. for an-
other two weeks was contingent
upon a medical examination. A few
days before this check up, the O.K.
people refrained from eating their
bread and secretly sold it or bar-
tered it with the Rumanians for
salt. They would then drink a
strong salt solution and follow this
up with unlimited quantities of
water. As a result, they were able
to appear for a medical examination
with a markedly weakened heart
and win the sought-after extension.
This practice came to an abrupt
end, however, when one of the fre-
quent searches of the barracks
brought to light small stores of salt
in the possession of a number of
prisoners. The NKVD political offi-
cer attached to our camp, who as
NKVD and Communist Party repre-
sentative exerted absolute power
not only over all of us but over the
entire camp administration, includ-
ing NKVD camp officials, became
Kingston Office
Wyoming at Union
Second National.
7
AG
-- —t
SAFETY VALVE | Bob Tales
RENDLY STOVE By BOB Co
I happen to be a rather old
fashioned person, living in an old
fashioned home, with a big old
fashioned coal fired cook stove,
with a hot water boiler attached in
front in our old fashioned kitchen.
On one of the recent quite cold
mornings when I came downstairs,
the door of the spacious oven stood
open, and the tea kettle was sing-
ing its cheerful song; and it was
with a pleasant satisfaction of com-
plete comfort that I settled my
back against the old boiler while
waiting for the coffee pot to
function.
I send my happy thought along
to you, with the hope that perhaps
it would provide an inspiration, and
suitable setting for an article rela-
tive to the passing of the old cook
stove with its dust and ashes.
My daughter Mrs. Cora Finn
pesters me about this stove, and at
times almost has me persuaded
that a modern electric or gas set up
is best; but I am an oldster and
pretty tough when it comes to
modernization, with its lack of good
old fashioned comfort.
Respectfully yours,
Harry H. Carey
APPRECIATED PUBLICITY
Dear Sirs:
The West Side Flower Club is
very greatful to you for giving us
publicity for our. fall Flower Show
held in late August.
Thank you for your kind coopera-
tion.
Sincerely
Mrs. Aurora Witt Knorr
Secretary
Westmoreland Football
Mothers Meet Tuesday
Westmoreland Football Mothers
will meet Tuesday evening at 8 at
the Back Mountain YMCA head-
quarters in Shavertown.
The Benedictine Order was
founded at Monte Cassino in the
year A. D. 529.
personally interested in this evid-
ence of sabotage and hostility to
the Soviet Union. He tempered
justice with mercy by not placing
the guilty on trial. They were mere-
ly placed in solitary confinement
for 21 days, with the obligation of
going out to work in the daytime.
The work was, needless to say, the
most rigorous that was available.
In their weakened condition, such
punishment was equivalent to a
death penalty. At the end of a
week, four of them were dead and
seven were hospitalized. A new
medical inspection was made, the
O.K. was liquidated for good and
all those in the O.K. group were
sent to the First Post camp, under
the tender mercies of Captain
Syemyonov.
The food doled out to the First
Post was just as bad as in all other
Soviet camps. After the one time
in December 1945 we never receiv-
ed anything more of American sup-
plies. After that day our menu
consisted of bread and soup. Our
bread was baked out of the flour
of unhusked oats and made our
tongue and gums bleed. It was
edible only when it was toasted to
a crisp. The soup was concocted
out of the same flour, with nothing
added, frequently not even salt. Po-
tatoes were something we could
only dream about. On such a diet,
the heavy work which would have
seemed impossible even for a heal-
thy, well nourished man to com-
plete according to schedule, was a
grim tragedy for these poor ema-
ciated creatures. »
As for clothing those working in
the forest during the winter, which
in this part of Asia lasted from
September to May, received frayed
sheepskin coats and gloves that
were full of holes. The greatest
problem was that of footwear. The
valonki or felt boots issued to us
were torn, badly worn and forever
wet. Sitting at the fire during the
brief recess from work gave only
momentary relief. The snow melted
on the boots and was absorbed by
the felt. As soon as one moved
away from the fire, the wet ma-
terial froze and the hapless prison-
er walked around in icy boots.
Valonki are all right if they are
worn under rubbers, which keep
out the dampness, but once they
get wet, they offer no protection
against the cold. Even ordinary
rags wrapped around our feet would
have been preferable to these felt
boots, because the rags would at
least have dried out more quickly.
(Continued Next Week)
~ Poet's Corner
I wish I had a telescope
To scan the starry skies
But, since I have no telescope,
I'm glad I have two eyes.
I wish I had a kitchen run
By push-button commands
But, while that kitchen’s still a
dream,
I'm glad I have two hands.
I wish I had a super car
To give my friends a treat
But, till that new car comes along,
I'm glad I have two feet.
Two eyes to look at God above . . .
Two hands to clasp in prayer . . .
Two feet to carry me to Church . . .
Why, I'm a millionaire!
—Nick Kenny
Many are the mornings you wake
up and wish to heck you didn’t have
to get out of bed and go to work.
We all get bored sometimes with
the daily routine. But think of it
this way . . . if you were given a
room with a bed and told you didn’t
have to do anything but sleep, you
would be pounding on the door in a
day or so begging to be let out so
you could go back to work.
Good to see the Record and T-L
back in circulation. We've missed
you. Maybe scandal won’t claim the
big headlines now. a
Why is it that so many folks don’t
smile and say good morning to
others they pass on the street. Just
because someone isn’t a personal
friend of yours doesn’t mean she or
he isn’t worthy of a cheery hello.
There's lots of trouble and worry
in this world . . . who knows, your
friendly greeting to a stranger on
the street may make his day seem
much more pleasant.
A definition of UNTHINKABLE:
A boat that ith airtight.
As a character witness in one of
the recent morals cases I want to
report that I wouldn't have believed
the sordid things that have been
going on if I hadn’t heard it from
the juveniles themselves as they
gave testimony. For example, a 17-
year-old boy who testified he had
been participating in unnatural acts
since he was 11 and with so many
different men he couldn’t remem-
ber them all. Mothers and fathers
it behooves you to give more time
and consideration to your children.
They need your affection and pro-
tection but they also need proper
discipline. I'm no psychiatrist but
sometimes I think a child expects
to be punished when he has done
something wrong and that he feels
let down if you don’t punish him.
ment should be avoided too.
I hope Loraine Day Durocher is
happy ’cause I'm sure miserable
about what her old man’s team did
to my Indians,
According to the SEP this note
was found on an office scratch pad:
How very, very glad am I
To realize today is Fri.,
And know, because tomorrow's Sat.,
This is a place I won't be at.
ONLY
YESTERDAY
Ten and Twenty Years Ago
In The Dallas Post .
From The Issue Of October 6, 1944
Lehman High School defeats Dal-
las Township, 7-0, in the first foot-
ball game of the season.
Walter Kitchen, son of Mr. and
Mrs. Sterling Kitchen, Dallas, is
slightly wounded in action in
France. A wallet in his breast pocket
stopped the bullet.
Lewis Reese is transferred from
Honolulu to Saipan as operations
officer. :
In the Outpost: Sgt. E. C. Ide,
San Francisco APO; Emory Elston,
New York APO; Arthur Hauck, New
York APO; Gilbert Boston, New
York APO; Ernie Culp, France; Irv-
ing Koslofsky, Fort Eustis; Jessie
Ashton, Philadelphia; Albert Cris-
pell, Camp Reynolds; Paul Snyder,
Gulfport; Clarence LaBar, Sioux
Falls, S. D.; Warren Stanton, Point
Sampson; Jim Oliver, Fort McClel-
lan, Ala.; Glenn Kitchen, Oklahoma;
James Taylor, Texas; John Stofko,
New York APO; Frank Morgan, Eng-
land; David Decker, South Pacific;
William Simpson, Red Raiders.
Betty Ann Newhart, formerly of
Alderson, becomes the bride of Ray-
mond Pace at Norfolk, Va.
Elizabeth Shupp, Dallas, is en-
gaged to Robert Cyphers, Carverton.
Loren Fiske, Dallas, arrives in
India with Air Transport Command.
William Watlock, Dallas, com-
pletes fifty air missions.
William Snyder, Dallas, is ap-
pointed squadron leader at Maxwell
Field.
Ellen Piatt completes basic mili-
tary training, and is now eligible
for assignment to a hospital in this
country or overseas as an army
nurse.
From The Issue Of October 5, 1934
American Tragedy near conclu-
sion as prosecution cites damaging
letters written by the defendant,
Robert Edwards. Local people tes-
tify.
Joseph Korshalla, Larksville, is
adjudged guilty in the shooting of
William Beline, Lehman Township,
when plaintiff attempted to prevent
the defendant from trespassing.
‘Water situation will be brought
before the PUC in Harrisburg.
Tender steak, 29c per 1b; veal
chops, 15¢ per lb; stewing lamb,
9c; butter, 2 lbs for 55c; sugar, 10
Ibs for 52c; eggs, 29c per doz; tuna
fish, 2 cans 25c.
Little Theatre Notice
Box office for the first Little
Theatre production, “My Three An-
gels” is now open at the work shop,
39 N. Washington Street, Wilkes-
Barre. One of the leading charac-
ters in the performance will be Ted
Raub, Park Street, Dallas.
Any one interested in member-
ship in the theatre on a yearly
basis, contact Mrs. Ralph Smith,
Dallas 4-5286.
Laughing gas is nitrous oxide.
ESTABLISHED 1889
Member Pennsylvania Newspaper Publishers’ Association
; A non-partisan liberal progressive mewspaper pub-
lished every Friday morning at the Dallas Post plant,
Lehman Avenue, Dallas, Pennsylvania.
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Pa., under the Act of March 3, 1879. Subscription rates: $3.00 a
years; $2.00 six months. No subscriptions accepted for less than
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Harveys Lake—Deater’s Store; Fernbrook—Reese’s Store; Sweet
Valley — Britt's Store; Lehman—Moore’s Store; Kingston—The
Little Smoke Shop.
. When requesting a change of address subscribers are asked to
give their old as well as new address.
Allow two weeks for changes of address or new subscription to
be placed on mailing list.
. We will not be responsible for the return of unsolicited manu-
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National display advertising rates 84¢ per column inch.
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Advertising copy received on Thursday will be charged at 85¢
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ads 10¢ additional.
z Unless paid for at advertising rates, we can give no assurance
that announcements of plays, parties, rummage sales or any affair
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Preference will in all instances be given to editorial matter which
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Editor and Publisher—HOWARD W. RISLEY
Editors—MYRA ZEISER RISLEY, MRS. T. M. B. HICKS
Advertising Manager—ROBERT F.. BACHMAN
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Mechanical Superintendent—CLARK E. RUCH, JR.
Associate
PROGRESS REPORT
(after two weeks without a smoke)
It takes neither courage, guts nor will power to stop smoking.
I know! After more than thirty years of smoking a minimum of
two and a maximum of four packages of cigarettes daily; I've quit.
Now, I'm no Jean d’ Arc, Nathan Hale or Walter Reed, so I say—
If you want to quit you can! :
I'm not attempting to convince anyone that he should or should
not smoke. That's a personal problem that every smoker will have
to settle for himself. :
I'm convinced, however, that there are hundreds of thousands
of smokers who want to stop; smokers who are sure cigarettes do
them no good and who have tried at sometime or other to cut down
on their smoking. They have found that it is difficult to stop—be-
cause they love the taste of a burning cigarette and crave its ap-
parent soothing and relaxing qualities.
No doubt about it cigarettes are enjoyable if the smoker can
keep his consumption under, control, but there's the joker. Few can
smoke as they would like to. They become creatures of habit and
habit dictates how frequently and how much they will consume.
I envy him who can smoke when and as he chooses. He need
have no worry about smoking too much or being able to stop at will
. . ..'but he is a raris avis. ’ ;
For those who would like to quit smoking and are perhaps afraid
that they haven’t the guts, maybe I can offer some suggestions from
my own experience.
Once you are convinced cigarettes are doing you no good, and
may be doing you harm, you have hurdled the biggest obstacle to
quitting.
Make a mental note of the fact that God gave you a pretty
decent and complicated body to start off with. You can attempt to
preserve it or destroy it as you choose.
Your backbone and determination to stop smoking will be
strengthened if you will talk with a man who has had a lung re-
moved, or watch a friend with a weakened heart gasp for breath
under an oxygen tent. - 3
Now try this: start every day with a fresh unopened package
of cigarettes. That's twenty cigarettes. Of course you're not going
to stop smoking. You are just going to make a personal survey of
your smoking habits in an attempt to determine your daily consump-
tion and the annual cost of your cigarettes.
* Accept no cigarettes from anyone else and borrow none during
the day. At any hour you can count the remaining cigarettes in the
package and tell just how many you have smoked since morning.
Simple isn’t it? Not many smokers have cigarettes that closely under
control. There isn’t one in a thousand who can tell you accurately
how many he has smoked since he got up this morning.
If you run out of smokes during the day, buy another package.
And if that isn’t enough, buy a third package. But buy the package
only after you are out of cigarettes, not before you run out. Never
buy by the carton or more than one package at a time. There's a
reason.
Now that you know the rate at which you are smoking try to
wind up the day without buying another package. Let's say that
you're normal consumption is two packages plus four cigarettes.
Maybe tomorrow you can hold it down to two packs and have a
couple of butts left at the end of the day.
How do you do it? Simply by controlling your consumption.
You haven't cut out cigarettes. You are smoking almost as many as
ever, but you are paying attention to the way and the rate at which
you are smoking them.
Since we are creatures of habit, you'll be amazed at how many
cigarettes youll have left over at the end of the day, if you'll simply
leave the package anywhere but on your person or in your pockets,
Leave it in the glove compartment of your car or in a desk drawer
anywhere that it will be inconvenient to reach but always where you
can get a cigarette when you have the desire to smoke.
Play this game for a few days. It’s really fun. Tell yourself that
maybe someday you really will try to cut down or cut out cigarettes.
Now what’s going to happen? One of these days. Morning or
late night you are going to find yourself out of cigarettes. You can
always buy them at the store, but this time you decide to wait until
morning. y :
What's happened? When you wake up you find you've gone
twelve hours without a cigarette. There's none to smoke before
breakfast or after coffee. (Remember that resolution never to bor-
row a cigarette.) You'll buy that package -of cigarettes after you've
left the house.
Brother what a craving you have now. If its Sunday morning
or any other day when you expect to face few problems and little
nervous tension, say to yourself. “Holy Smoke. I haven't had a
cigarette since last night. I've got a swell start towards stopping.”
Put off smoking that first cigarette as long as possible. Tell yourself
you're going to wait until noon before you buy the package.
Then tell every friend you meet that you've stopped smoking.
You have. Since last night. Be sure to tell the boss. Get yourself
thoroughly committed with everybody. If you can get past noon—
while the cold sweat collects around your eyes and every nerve is on
edge, you can get through the rest of the afternoon.
It'll take a couple of days to get the craving out of your system.
It will help to chew licorice. The strongest and bitterest you can find.
It will give your mouth the same lousy taste cigarettes always ‘give.
Eat anything and everything you can find. Don’t worry about
getting fat. You can take care of that after you've licked the craving
for cigarettes. But for the first few days you are off cigarettes pamper
yourself on everything but smoking.
You've a perfect right to throw things at the cat and snap at
your wife, but the funny thing is—you won’t. After the first day,
most dispositions are improved and by the end of the week you'll
think you're a new man. \
Will you feel better after you've been off smoking for a week ?
Yes, but you won’t have restored your lost youth. You'll eat better,
(Continued on Page Five)