My story is known only to two or three people,” said the story teller starting his tale.
“My mother had a close relative who lived in Canada. She was in correspondence with him and I also wrote to him once in a while. But the relative had severed in the German army and what was especially risky for us, he had served in the Waffen SS.”
“In 1983 after I had finished my first year at Tartu University, I was drafted into the Soviet army to serve the mandatory time. I was totally against this, as were all the other boys. Why should we be forced to join the Soviet military?
“When only one half year was left for me to serve I was called in to the ‘special department'. [He is likely referring here to the political officer, the ‘politruk', who keeps his eye on the ideological reliability of the recruits, someone who in effect has more power than the unit's commander and who works hand-in-glove with the KGB. In contrast, ideology and politics as an institutional factor in military life is absolutely forbidden by law in the Canadian armed forces and in probably all western military.]
“At first they offered me cigarettes, wanted to know me how things were going and then suddenly they asked me how I thought I was ‘going to get away with it'. I was flabbergasted. I didn't know what to say.
“Then their accusations became serious. ‘You are undermining our country. You're spreading propaganda!' A bright lamp was pointed at my face. My documents were pulled from me and studied. And then they went over with astounding precision the conversations I had had with others over the past half year.
“It was very difficult for me to refute this. They had it very precisely all on paper. But what subversion could I possibly do? Obviously I had a different orientation than the Russian draftees. For me history was all-together different than for the others. I hadn't been a young pioneer, I didn't belong to the Comsomol [both youth organizations of the Communist party]. I had probably explained to the others what I thought of those organizations.
“Do you have any contacts with the West? I told them none.
“But what about Oskar. You're in contact with Oskar in Canada.
“You're a spy! You're undermining our country! Confess! And if you don't admit to this you'll face a tribunal and be put into a punishment unit. [This type of incarceration within the Soviet military is much worse than a prison. It administers an extreme form of discipline.]
“They gave me a pencil and paper and instructed to me to regret what I had done against the fatherland. I didn't have a choice. I regretted that I had undermined the state, begged forgiveness and said that I would never do such things again.
“Then I had to wait. The first day I sat in some empty cell. From there I was thrown into a hole into which was placed a wooden bunk at night. My army jacket was my blanket and my boots my pillow. At five in the morning the bunk was removed. Then I was thrown into an empty hole.
“There I had to wait for ten days for a decision. Are they going to put me before a tribunal? At this time my military unit was formed up on the parade square and commander announced with great pride to two thousand soldiers that a NATO spy had been uncovered within their midst who had been subverting the Soviet state and army for over one year. This was serious stuff. What happens when they find out that he's talking about me? I was devastated.
“Luckily nothing happened when I was sent back to my unit. They hadn't revealed who the ‘spy' was. Now I was impatiently waiting to get back home. Most had already left. I was still there with the low lives, many months after the normal recruits had served their conscription time.
“Finally I was back home. But I wasn't happy. I was very apprehensive. I couldn't trust anyone. I was afraid of saying anything to anybody. The Soviet system seemed to be massive and all powerful. Later I learned that another Estonian boy had been made to read letters addressed to me to find out if there was anything subversive in them. Obviously nothing was found. I had my family send me pocket size books from ‘Looming' publishers which I could secretly read. [He's back at Tartu University. ‘Looming', especially with their pocket size series was known to publish works that were not in favour with the communist party. Neither were they works of dissidents or samizdat.] I was totally intimidated. In Tartu I didn't know with whom to speak, on what topic.
“The year was 1985. Perestroika had started. Gorbachev was in place. [Perestroika was a political movement meant to reform the communist party and restructure the economic and political system of the Soviet Union. It brought with it a trend towards liberalization.]
“And then in the early fall I received a hand-written letter containing a phone number in my student dormitory with instructions to phone right away. I went out to a pay phone and phoned. It was answered by a man who said I was to come without delay to the Tartu office of National Security Committee. Now! Immediately! (To be continued.)
Laas Leivat
