Part Three. Elder
The enemy troops advanced and kept moving forward. Those who had money tried to leave the village in search of safety in the eastern regions. Wealthier villagers were given the opportunity to leave with the help of vehicles, but the Bilashchenko family had no significant savings and nowhere to go. They had to stay home at their own risk.
When German soldiers fully occupied the Cherkasy region, the villagers’ lives changed dramatically. A significant portion of the food was confiscated for the needs of the German army. Local residents were forced to give up their crops, livestock, and even personal belongings. Rumors of the enemy’s cruelty and their particular hatred for Jews and Roma spread among the people. There was a special decree either to shoot them or send them to forced labor in Germany. Both options meant death. Everyone in Dmytrivka knew about Ivan’s family’s Roma roots, but no one was quick to report it to the Germans. The family was respected in the village, and the locals did not wish them harm. However, this did not provide a sense of safety. Every night, the family went to bed thinking about death.
— Another day passed, let’s hope we survive the night. What will happen tomorrow? What will I dream about? Will it be executions, the ‘Black Raven’ again? Oh God, please don’t let them come for us tonight. Should I escape to the partisans? No, they’ll shoot my mother and sisters. Where can I go? — exhausted Ivan thought. The boy was tired from work, but it wasn’t easy to fall asleep. Thoughts of danger kept him awake, and the same thing repeated every night.
One day, news spread that all the Roma in the neighboring village had been shot. The Germans intercepted those who tried to escape, sparing no one. By some miracle, the youngest son, still a child, survived. After witnessing the massacre, the boy fell into madness; whether he could recover was unknown. This frightened Ivan the most. Dying alone was terrifying, but seeing his family tortured was the worst.
One day, Ivan Sakovych, the headman of Dmytrivka, who found himself in a difficult situation, visited the Bilashchenko family. The Gestapo demanded that he hand over the Roma, but the man stubbornly refused to send his fellow villagers to torture. He managed to stall the situation by lying that there were no Roma in the village and that all the farmers were local.
— Petya, we need to do something, they won’t leave us alone. Someone will report us, and then we’ll be lucky if we just get shot, — Hanna Ivanivna said to her brother, gathering her strength.
— Collect the gold you have. We’ll go with Sakovych to negotiate with the Germans and convince them that we’re not Roma. The documents say «Ukrainians», and we’ll push on that.
That’s what they did. They managed to negotiate, assuring the authorities that there were no Roma and that the dark-skinned Bilashchenkos were simple collective farmers who had lived in Dmytrivka for generations. For now, they parted ways on that note.
Time passed, and inspections began in the village. It became known that someone was collaborating with the partisans and passing information to them. The Germans were extremely angry, searched every house, and quickly found the «traitor». It turned out that the headman had been in contact with the partisans, passing on news, covering for partisan families, and hiding Roma.
The Germans stormed the headman’s office in broad daylight and took Ivan Sakovych from his workplace. What followed were brutal hours-long interrogations, yet they couldn’t extract any useful information from him. Naturally, the punishment followed the occupiers’ style — death.
After the headman’s exposure, the Germans began to critically view everyone for whom he had ever put in a good word. Soon Ivan found himself in line for deportation to Germany. Sensing trouble ahead, the boy resolved to avoid reaching his destination at all costs. Men and women who were to be transported for work were lined up near the wagons. It started to rain, delaying the boarding, and the wait was cold and terrifying. — I must escape; otherwise, I’ll be stuck there until death. Not here —they’ll catch me. Maybe during a stop? Will there even be a stop? Then on the way. But there are so many Germans… I won’t make it a step, — Ivan planned his escape in his mind. At that moment, a soldier kicked the boy in the back with a rifle butt, interrupting his thoughts. — Schneller, — the German shouted threateningly, pointing in the direction. The boy understood he had to move and not delay the queue.
It felt like the train was moving forever. It was cold and mostly damp in the wagon. He was extremely hungry and even sleepier, but he couldn’t afford to let his guard down. Ivan decided that if he had the chance, he would jump and run. If luck was
on his side, he could escape. A few hours later, somewhere between Kyiv and Zhytomyr, such an opportunity arose. There was a commotion in the neighboring wagon, shouts, and gunfire. Naturally, all the soldiers’ attention immediately shifted to the troublemakers.Ivan took advantage of the moment and jumped from the train, which had just slowed down. He ran through the forest to evade capture, and after several days of relentless walking, he finally reached Dmytrivka. He sneaked into the house — when his mother saw him, she fell to her knees in tears. She hadn’t hoped to see her son in her lifetime, only praying that he was alive.
Though together, peace was still elusive. It was clear that the Germans would come again. Maybe they would kill him — who knows? But Ivan had resolved not to go to Germany at any cost. If he was to die, it would be at home — in Ukraine, at least near his family.
As expected, the occupiers didn’t take long to reappear. Three days later, they came and dragged the sleeping boy out of bed. Only one thought was spinning in his head: if they shoot me, let it not be in front of my family. However, the Germans had other plans. Ivan was young and full of energy. An extra pair of hands would come in handy for them.
They couldn’t take him to Germany immediately, so they decided to punish him and send him to work. That’s what they did. A maple tree grew near the headman’s office, the very tree where they periodically hanged villagers undesirable to the occupying authorities.
Ivan was tied to a tree and whipped about twelve times until his back was devoid of any unmarked space. Afterward, exhausted and beaten, he was taken to work on the railway line near Liplyava.
Guided by tenets, driven by purpose
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