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MATHIES GENEALOGY

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REMEMBERANCES OUT OF RUSSIA

FROM JOHANN J MATHIES, VINELAND, ONTARIO, 1965

[Johann - brother of A. J. Mathies]

[Interviewed by Annie Krause]

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[1917]

In 1917 everything changed and such old ones were discharged. Our Pluganow also had to leave. The farewells were very emotional. Those who carried his suit cases know more about him. We sanitaeter respected him and he knew it, and wanted to acknowledge it. In the youth one is ready to do things. I had been with 202 for one year and had the opportunity to go back to my Asower comrades in the Kaukasus. So back to the 209 sanitaeter where Mrs. Paulina Nikolajeivin Vogel gladly took me in again. In my absences, three Schöenfelder had been added. Abram Rogalsy, now in Winnipeg [deceased], George Schroeder [Leamington, also deceased], and Jake Enns who died in Russia. During the revolution everything. The all Russian Semstwo-Verband was rich and busy with the war. Our senitaeter were also awakened and given permission to work in the hospital laundry and bakeshop as well as in ship building, which is where I was stationed together with others in Tiflis such as two Schöenfelder Joh. Friesen [Manitoba] and Jak. Thiessen [Ontario].

From Tiflis to Batum on a warship holding over 1000 military men, without light in the dark of night we were driven to Trapesund, Turkey, accompanied by smaller warships. Early morning we arrived in a harbour at Trapesund. We had barely made port in the small shelter and the enemy began dropping  bombs on us and we had to go to the basements together with the Turks. Here we also met our Mennonite chauffers who were driving the wounded over Erserun, Otte to Sarikamis. We went 30 werst in a motorboat to Surgonne, a small shipbuilders on the ocean shore. All around were large mountains and small passages with narrow roads. Nevertheless the Turks had built strong houses out of walnut. The boards being 16 [feet] long by 1 1/2 [inches] wide or more.

The war brought a great devastation but better to tear down than burn, so the poor could still build themselves a shelter from the leftovers. There was a Turkish barber who had built himself a little place. He was a friendly old man. All day he was surrounded by the military but still everything was going peacefully. One day I saw two soldiers come in and started to plunder, breaking his mirror and even hitting him till he bled. I thought "Why doesn't anybody say anything, and why does it have to be this way?" I jumped up and took one of them down and the other one came after me and soon it was all over with, for me too. I never saw that Turk again and often when they talked about betting, I thought, "They don't know what they are talking about."

I was working in the small boats along the seashore so I could observe many things. At a nearby mountain stood a Moschee where the Turks prayed. I had gone in. Before the entrance were many water taps where they washed, took off their shoes and kneeled on beautiful rugs in front of their Holy One, wearing red caps.

At that time a Turk was allowed more than one wife. It was interesting how the Turkish women carried the cornstalks on their backs, mouth and head veiled except for their eyes, followed  by their man clad in red socks with fingernails and beard painted red also. Many Russian-German militia marched past singing "When I die in a strange land, then only you alone can tell on me." usn. The air was unclean. The Turkish militia was getting ever closer. The bread was getting rationed and the fish soup was getting thinner. Nobody knew what tomorrow would bring.

I was often at work in a motorboat. It was almost evening when I noticed a small boat with 5 men landing at the beach. The captain and the boatsman were Ositiner and two Turks. the mechanic a Mennonite from Kuban, Alexander Bergmann. His helper was sick and they needed a replacement. It was like I was called. I got acquainted with Alex Bergman and it didn't take long till I got my suitcase and packed only what we absolutely needed and left Batum in the dark of night. I was so thankful that I was able to leave. The boat had Segel so we had to tie the motor down.

As we went along the coast there were many places to stop and unload what provisions for the military as well as gasoline and passengers. Batum  was a large port city, with good activities, along the streets were palm trees.

In our boat, in the machine room, water was always gathering which had to be pumped out from time to time. Under the machines a lot of dirt gathered, and it swam on top of the water like oil, this as well as gasoline made it dangerous. We had no electric light and once with the existing lights we had a fire. We were lucky to be standing in the harbour and able to put it out.

Another time on the high seas, during a large storm, where we couldn't see anymore rescuing us, every thing stopped. The machines were old and the compass didn't work and the boat couldn't be controlled so the storm tossed us to and fro. It was three days till we reached the harbour at Batum.

In my spirit I can still see the snow capped mountains of Turkey. It was December 1917 shortly before Christmas. I had decided not to go on the ship again. It was restless on the streets at Bartum. The soldiers began too sell their clothes at the market. Many were separated. Our boat was in for repairs.  

I said farewell to my dear Alexander and went along with the Captain for some coffee in the restaurant. He told me in secret that he wasn't going back to the ship either. During all of this I wasn't feeling very good, so I went to the doctor who admitted me into the army hospital, where I stayed over Christmas.