Chapter 72 2

This is how they judge whether our request is "legal" "in a fair manner and with a completely equal attitude"... The one who most often interrupted the prison squad leaders was the high-browed, bad-ass Lieutenant-Colonel.He was eloquent and, unlike us, he was in a privileged position of impunity.He is good at interrupting people's speech with some sharp words.A situation has developed where it seems like they are blaming us and we are defending ourselves. I couldn't help the anger rushing to my heart, and I was determined to defeat him.I asked to speak, giving my name (it was immediately repeated to the recorder like an echo).I get up from the bench.I am well aware that no prisoner here will be able to utter a complete and grammatically correct sentence faster than I can.But what can I say to these people on the podium?I didn't think about it at all.Tell them everything I have written in this book, everything we have experienced during our years of hard labor and thought about during our hunger strikes?That's no different than telling a gorilla.These people are still considered Russians, and they can understand a few simple Russian sentences, such as: "Please allow me to enter!", "Please allow me to report to you!" and so on.But when they sit in a row behind the second-longest table as they are now, and lay out before us their equally soulless, thoughtless, white-fed fat faces, it is very obvious. : They have long since degenerated into a different kind of unique creature, so that the little linguistic connection between us and them has been irretrievably severed.The only connection left is that of the bullet.

Only the guy with the long face and high forehead, who hasn't completely turned into an orangutan, can hear and understand me.I had just said a few words when he tried to interrupt me.So there was a blitz dialogue contest between us under the watchful eyes of everyone. "Where do you work?" (Excuse me, what does it matter where you work? Isn’t it all the same?) "At the machine shop!" I threw him over my shoulder, and immediately resumed what I was going to say more quickly. "Is that the place where knives are made?" He called me directly. "No! It's not. It's the place to repair the walking excavator!"

I continue to expound my opinions quickly and without stopping, and I also want them to learn to listen to others honestly first. The lieutenant colonel hid behind the desk and remained silent.However, suddenly he jumped out from under the table and took a bite: "The gangsters asked you to be their representative?" "No! It was you who asked me to come to the meeting!" I also went straight to the point, responded with a sentence, and continued to speak my own words as if celebrating a victory. Later, this guy jumped out two more times, and he was completely silent after being pushed back one by one by me.I won.

Victory, but for what?one year!I have one year left in my sentence.But this year oppresses me, keeps my tongue from speaking to them what they should hear.I could have delivered a monumental speech at this moment, but then tomorrow I would be shot.If my speech could be broadcast to the whole world, even if I were shot tomorrow, I would still deliver it.But no, the audience here is too small. Therefore, I did not point out to them that the labor camps here are fascist, which is a sign of the deterioration of the regime.I limited myself to dabbing some kerosene in front of their elongated noses to spoil their sense of smell.I recognized the officers of the Guards present, and I told of the unseemly behavior of the guards who smeared the Soviet soldiers in the face; they helped steal building materials, and they were so brutal that they degenerated into murderers.I went on to describe the camp guards, extortionate and greedy, and often forcing prisoners to steal building materials for them (which is true, but led by the officers sitting on the rostrum here).How much the behavior of these people has disrupted the reformation of prisoners who wish to be reformed. !

I myself don't like my speech.In terms of gains, I just took the lead in speed and gained some time. In the silence I had won, a homework monitor surnamed Ti stood up.He spoke in a slow, slurring lisp from overexcitement, or perhaps from nature.He said: "Once upon a time I agreed with someone who said...that our lives...like dogs The lieutenant colonel on the podium immediately pricked up his ears.The speaker's bald head was ugly, and it was difficult to find words to describe his face, which had become cruel and hideous.Just listen to him go on to say: "However, now I find that this statement is wrong."

The clever ghost immediately smiled again. "Our life...is far worse than that of a dog!" said the squad leader surnamed Ti loudly and forcefully, with a sudden change of tone.The squad leaders present all became nervous.Just listen to him say quickly: "Dogs just wear a number on a neck collar, we have four bibs on us. People feed dogs meat, but we eat fish bones. People don't call dogs to confinement, they don't shoot dogs on watchtowers , and don’t give a dog twenty-five years of hard labor! . . . " It doesn't matter if you interrupt him now, he's said all the main things.

Then Chernogorov stood up.He first stated that he had been awarded the title of Hero of the Soviet Union, and then made a statement.There was another monitor who also asked to speak.Their speeches were all courageous and passionate.People on the podium kept repeating their names. Perhaps what they have done will bring us our doom...maybe this accursed wall will be broken only by the impact of their heads. The meeting ended in a draw for both sides. The days that followed were uneventful.There was no sign of the committee again.The days in the labor camp went by as if nothing had happened.

The guards took me to the hospital in the Ukrainian branch.After the hunger strike, I was the first prisoner to come here, the first messenger.Janchenko, the surgeon who was scheduled to operate on me, called me in to examine me, but neither he asked nor I answered questions about the tumor.He didn't care about my tumor, and I was happy to meet such a reliable doctor.He questioned him in detail about the hunger strike, his face darkened by our common pain. what!How differently we feel the same things in different circumstances of life!Take my tumor as an example, it looks like a cancerous tumor.What a shock it would have been if it had been outside the prison, what pain and tears of loved ones it would have caused!But here, in a place where decapitation and death are so easy, the same tumor is just a reason for me to lie down and rest for a few days, and I seldom even think about it.

I lay in the hospital with those who were wounded and maimed that bloody night.Some were beaten so badly by the guards that they didn't even have a good place to lie down.There was a tall guard who beat people very hard, using iron pipes. (Look, how bad my memory is! I can't remember the guard's name.) Someone has died of his wounds. But the news came one after another: a crackdown had begun in the "Russian" section.Forty people have been arrested.Fearing new riots, the authorities changed their approach this time.They were as good-natured as ever until the last day, as if they were checking who among their own had made the mistake.But on the scheduled day, when the work teams had already walked out of the gate of the living area, the prisoners found that there were two or three times more guards waiting to escort them than usual.The masters devised a way of catching victims that kept the prisoners from using the walls of the shed and the construction site as well as from each other.After the squads were taken out of the camp, before arriving at the labor site after passing through the grassland, the captain of the guard suddenly ordered: "Stand still! Raise your gun! Prepare to fight! All the prisoners sit down when the bullets are loaded! I will count to three, and if you don't sit down, you will start!" Gun! Sit down, sit down, all!"

Just like last year's Baptism Day, the deceived prisoners were helplessly nailed to the earth.At this time, the leading officer took out a piece of paper and called out the names and numbers of the people on the list. Those who were called had to stand up immediately, leave the powerless crowd, and go outside the guard line.Then the rioters were escorted back by another team of guards, or a prison van was brought to transport them away.Those who remained, having been purged of the fermenting enzymes, got up again and were driven to work. This is how the people who educate us show us whether they can be trusted for something or not at all.

The vacated camps also went to prisons.Although the previous strike was blocked by the four-meter-high wall and failed to enter the Ukrainian branch, the "arrested" vulture spread its wings and flew over the high wall and came here, pecking away the Ukrainians one by one.It was the day before my surgery was scheduled.Surgeon Janchenko was arrested and imprisoned. It is not easy to distinguish whether to be arrested and imprisoned or transferred to another place. Now the masters are not as cautious as they were at the beginning.Several batches of prisoners (20 to 30 in each batch) were sent to other places.Suddenly, on February 17th, a deportation team of about 700 people began to gather, and the control of this group of people was particularly strict: the deportees were all handcuffed after they left the camp.Fate's revenge!Ukrainians, those Ukrainians who refuse to support the hunger strikes of the Russians in order to protect themselves, are more in this ranks than the Russians.punishment of fate; Yes, shortly before our departure they also fired a salute for our failed strike: several simultaneous fires of unknown origin in the newly built wood processing complex (I know for certain that someone set the fire) cost three million dollars in two hours. Ruble property was reduced to ashes. (Kazakhstan has always been short of wood and rich in stone, but for some reason this complex was built entirely of wood.) For those who were taken to be shot, it was like a funeral for the strongmen of the sea, that is, According to the ancient Scandinavian custom, when the hero's body was cremated, his ship was burned at the same time. I'm lying in the post-surgery recuperation ward.I was the only one in the ward; the labor camp had been chaotic recently, so no one was admitted to the hospital, and the hospital was very quiet.I live in a room at the end of the hospital shed.Going further is the morgue, where the body of Dr. Kornfield who was beaten to death has been placed there for many days, and no one has time to pay attention to him. (Twice a day, morning and evening, the guards came to roll the roll. He walked to my door and stopped going forward: to save trouble, he spread his hands towards the tenant's room and my room, and said; Two." Just write the number on the card.) Pavel Baraniuk was also included in the escort team of 700 people this time, and he was able to pass through various cordons to come to my ward and hug me goodbye.We felt that not only our camp, but the whole world was shaking, and everywhere was being washed by the storm.We seem to be thrown by a hurricane.We cannot comprehend that the outside world is still as lifeless and silent as before.We feel as if we are on the crest of a great wave, and something is being submerged under our feet.And if we could meet again someday, it would be a completely different country.But, who knows what will happen.Farewell, my friend!Farewell, my friends! The years passed slowly.It was a dull and exhausting year, my last at the Ekbastuz camp and the last of the Stalinist era on the "archipelago".Only a few of those who were put in prison were ever released because nothing could be found against them.Most people, many people I've really known and loved over the years.They were escorted away: some were sent to be re-sentenced; some were sent to a quarantine center with an indelible mark on their files (although I had already become a lovely angel); some were sent to the Zhezkazgan Mine Labor; even a group of so-called "mentally unsound" people were remanded, including the witty Kishkin, into which the doctors included Volodya Gershuny. After taking those people away, the eyeliners hiding in the "storage room" crawled out one by one.At first they were timid and hesitant, but soon they became presumptuous.The traitor Volodhika Ponomaryov has also returned to the shed. He was an ordinary turner, and now he has become a handyman in charge of sending and receiving the prisoners' mail packages. That is to say, the unfortunate family members of the prisoners have suffered The few precious things collected and sent were now handed over to this habitual thief by the old Cheka officer Major Maximenko to distribute them. Now, operatives can call anyone to their office for questioning.It's been a very dull spring.Those with protruding horns are now hastily bending down to hide.Instead of taking the position of squad leader (there were more people who wanted to be squad leaders at this time), I worked as a helper in the foundry.This year's labor has been tiring, and for good reason: the Camp Administration, after crushing all our hopes and pleas, has decided, as the only concession, to allow us to introduce economic accounting, that is, the fruits of our labor are no longer The Gulag Archipelago, which can never be filled, devoured it completely, and began to count it, 45% of which was counted as our labor income (the rest was turned over to the country).Seven percent of this labor income is paid by the labor camp as maintenance funds for the labor camp. It is used to feed the guards and military dogs, repair the barbed wire fence and the forced management shed, and support the special operations commissioners, prison guards, letter inspectors, and educators— - In short, all those personnel without whom we cannot live.Even so, the remaining eleven or three percent can still be recorded in the prisoner's personal name.At the end of each month, although all the money cannot be exchanged for the internal circulation coupons of the labor camp, part of it (if you have not made any mistakes during this period, if you have not been late or behaved badly, and if you have not angered the chief) can be exchanged for internal labor camp vouchers. Used for circulation coupons.The prescribed system is.The more you sweat, the closer to thirty percent you get.And if you don't do enough, then all the fruits of your labor will belong to the labor camp, and you won't get a penny. The majority (oh, this is the majority in our history, and especially the majority produced by expropriation!) greedily and happily accepts this "concession" from the master, and puts I put all my body and mind into labor, and I just want to earn a little money so that I can go to the canteen to buy some condensed milk, margarine, and inferior candy, or go to the "business cafeteria" to buy another dinner.Since the quota of labor performed was calculated by shift, even those who would not sacrifice their health for a stick of margarine had to work for the collective. The number of videos sent to the camp is also more than before.Here, too, as is the case in all concentration camps, villages and remote mountain villages, the audience is ignored at all, and the title of the film is never announced in advance.Originally, the pig feeder never told the pigs in advance what feed to pour into the trough.Anyway, these prisoners would always scramble to grab a seat in the cafeteria an hour before the curtains were drawn, regardless of whether the film being shown was worth it. (But aren't these the same convicts who so valiantly endured the hunger strike in winter!?) "Bread and circuses!" "... What an ancient practice! We are ashamed to repeat our comments on it.... There is nothing wrong with the desire of a starving man after years of hunger. But , while we feast here, our comrades, those who started the struggle, who cried out in the sheds in the days of the January struggle, "Never surrender! "people, even some who had nothing to do with anything, are now being tried somewhere, and some are shot, and some are sent to ghettos with added sentences. Some are being Tortured endlessly, put on death row with crosses on the wall to be "inspired"; and some viper major will walk into death row and say to you with a smile, "Oh, you're Panin!I remember you, remember you.We're here to hear your case!Ok!We'll take care of the formalities for you! " Formalities!Not a bad word at all.You can go through the procedures of sending you to the underworld, you can also go through the procedures of confinement for a day, and you have to go through the procedures even to issue you a pair of old trousers.What are they going to do with you?but.The cell door shut again with a bang, and the poisonous snake walked away with an inexplicable smile, leaving you to think about it, and you can't sleep for a whole month because of it, it's like hitting your head against a stone wall, and you can't figure it out ... It's all just so easy to say. Suddenly, the Ekbastuz Battalion formed another escort team of about 20 people.There was something strange about this detachment: the convoy of these men was not in the usual haste, no further drastic measures were taken, there was no isolation, it seemed that they were called to release them, but none of them had completed their sentences.None of these men were abused, none of them were in solitary or correctional classes; they were model prisoners, well pleased with the authorities, including: Mikhail Mikhail, the bold and cunning head of the auto repair class Ilovich Gneralov, who usually looks like a carefree machine tool worker and supervisor Belousov, process engineer Guldyayev, and a Moscow designer Raikov who looks like a state activist, The amiable "one of my own people", the fitter Yenika Miliukov with a shiny face, and a fitter Georgian Koki Kocherava, he is a very reasonable person People, especially good at defending the truth in front of the masses. Where are they taken?Judging from these members, it didn't look like they were sent to a punishment camp.The prisoners all said to this group of people: "You must be sent to a good place! You will not be guarded in the future." But no one in this group of people smiled. They just shook their heads listlessly and continued to organize themselves as if they wanted to leave their own belongings behind. They all looked annoyed and depressed. Could it be that they were reluctant to leave this troubled Ecbastos? They even said goodbye Speech is incoherent, expression is extremely unnatural. These people were taken away. Not that there wasn't enough time to forget about them.However, three weeks later, there were rumors that those people were escorted back again!Bring back?Yes.All-in back?Yes.However, they are now living in the battalion sheds, and they are unwilling to return to their original work sheds. Are these traitors also going on strike? !The strike of 3,000 people at Camp Ekbastuz really lacked such a detail!Oh, no wonder they were so reluctant to go!When they betrayed our friends in the investigator's office and signed confessions like the traitor Judas, they had hoped that it would all remain hidden forever.Well, this has been the way our country has been for decades: political whistleblowers are considered indisputable documents, and the names of whistleblowers are never revealed.However, in our strike there was something necessary which compelled the camp masters to conduct a large official trial in Karaganda. (Must they justify themselves in front of their superiors?) So the guys were brought in to testify the same day.These people gathered together with their own secrets, exchanged glances, recognized each other, and finally understood: they were all brought to testify in court.In fact, going to court is nothing to them, they don't care.However, they were aware of a rule in the post-war period of the Gulag Islands: prisoners who were interrogated due to temporary needs must be sent back to the original labor camp afterwards.It was this hand that they were afraid of.Yes, the authorities had promised to keep them in the Karaganda prison as an exception!An order was even issued.But, no, it was not formal, and the Karaganda Prison refused to take him in. In this way, they traveled back and forth for three weeks, being driven from the "Zek carriage" to the deportation station, and from the deportation station to the "Zek carriage"...the escort shouted at them: "Sit down!" Search them, take Take their stuff and herd them into the bathroom.Give salted fish to eat instead of water to drink... In short, torture them like ordinary prisoners who don't like their masters.Then.Take them to court.In the court they saw again the people they had betrayed, and they nailed the nails on the coffins of these people more firmly, and added a few more locks to their death carts, so that they could return to the prison after their long sentences. The original starting point, starting from the beginning... After finishing all this, they were sent back through the deportation stations, and were thrown into the original labor camp as exposed traitors. They are useless.An informer is like a ferryman, you don't need it after crossing the river... On the surface, isn't the labor camp already subdued?Didn't they take thousands of people away?Will someone prevent the eyeliners from going to the master's office to report? ...However, they were unwilling to leave the battalion headquarters, and they did not want to return to their original work sheds!They are "on strike"!Only Kocherava had the courage to continue to pretend to be the former "justice man" and returned to the original work shed, and said to everyone; "Who knows why we were escorted away! They escorted us around several places, but in the end they escorted us back..." However, his guts lasted only one night.The next day, I ran back to the battalion headquarters to find my own people. ah?That is to say, all the past has not passed in vain!Our comrades did not fall or go to prison in vain.The air in the labor camps could never return to its former suffocating state.While dastardly business is on the rise again, its foundations are shaky.People now talk politics openly in the sheds.No dispatcher or squad leader dared to kick the prisoner or grab his fist anymore.Because now everyone knows that it is easy to make a knife, and it is easy to stick a knife under the ribs. Our small island began to shake, it drifted away from the "islands"... However, this is only felt in Ekbastuz, and may not be felt in Karaganda.In Moscow it is almost certainly not felt.The special camp system began to crumble in one, two, and then a third, but the loving father and mentor knew nothing about it.Of course, people didn't report this to him (and he himself was never good at giving up anything. So he never gave up the penal camp as long as the chair he was sitting on didn't catch fire).On the contrary, he planned a mass arrest in 1953. (I wonder if it was to prepare for a new war?) To this end, in 1952 he expanded the system of special labor camps.For example, the Ekbastuz camp was originally a branch of the Stepu labor camp, which was later assigned to the Biszian labor camp, but in 1952 it was upgraded to a newly established large-scale labor camp on the Irtysh River. The general branch of the special labor camp (temporarily called Dali Lag).Therefore, in addition to the original large number of slave owners, a large number of parasites - members of the labor camp administration - were sent to Ekbastuz, and we had to feed this group with our own labor . It is said that a large number of new prisoners will be escorted to work soon. However, the contagion of "freedom" is not going away at this time.Where else could it be hidden on the "islands"?Just as the prisoners from Dubovka brought it to us; now our people take it elsewhere.Slogans scratched with fingernails or carved with a knife appeared on the toilet walls of all deportation stations in Kazakhstan that spring. "Hail to the warriors of Ekbastuz!" About forty of the "core elements of the riots" who were first evacuated and 250 of the "most vicious" of the February mass were sent to Kengil (Jezkazgan station, Kengil village, the third branch of the Stepo special labor camp, and the seat of the Stepo labor camp administration. Colonel Chechev with a big belly is here).The rest of Ekbastuz's disciplinary prisoners were sent to Division I and Division II (mines) of the Steppe Battalion. In order to intimidate the eight thousand prisoners at Camp Kenjill, the authorities announced to them that the new arrivals were bandits.Handcuffed on the way from the station to Kenjill Prison.That's how the movement we started came to Kengil, then still in the labor atmosphere, as a locked myth, to wake it up.Here too, like Ekbastuz a year ago, it is still ruled by informers and fists. Two hundred and fifty of us were in prison until April.At this time, Lieutenant Colonel Fedotov, the head of the Kengil Battalion, thought we were intimidated and decided to take us to work.In this battalion, there are a total of 125 pairs of the latest model of the Communist Party's nickel-plated handcuffs, which is just enough for two people to wear (the reason why Kenjill Camp accepts 250 people may be determined by the number of handcuffs of). One hand of the prisoners was handcuffed along with another's hand, and the other hand was free.In other words, still alive!Many people in this team had spent time in labor camps and prisons, and they were very experienced. There were also some well-tested escapees (Ten Nuo was also in this group), and they all knew the characteristics of handcuffs very well.So they explained to those in the same ranks: As long as one hand can move, with a needle, or even without a needle, the handcuffs can be removed without any effort. After the team arrived at the labor site, the guards began to remove the handcuffs from the prisoners at various places in the team at the same time in order not to delay the working time.At this time, those skillful hands took off their own and the handcuffs of the people next to them and hid them under the skirt of their clothes. "Our handcuffs have been taken off by that guard just now!" The guards never thought of counting the handcuffs before the prisoners went to work.Prisoners were never searched when they entered the workplace. In this way, we took twenty-three out of one hundred and twenty-five pairs of handcuffs on the first day of work!After entering the labor site, people smash it with stones or hammers.But soon came up with a better way: wrap the handcuffs with waterproof oil paper and bury them in the wall or foundation of the house that was being built that day (it was the twentieth residential section opposite the Kenjill Cultural Palace), and the oil paper A not-so-subtle postscript was added to the bag: "Generations! These houses were built by Soviet slaves! These are the handcuffs they wore!" The guards were furious and kept cursing "bandits", and had to find some old rusty handcuffs for people to put on when they walked back.But, no matter how careful they were, six more were stolen before entering the living quarters.On the second and third days, several copies were lost one after another.The price of each pair of handcuffs was said to be ninety-three rubles. As a result, Camp Kenjill's masters no longer send prisoners handcuffed to worksites. You can only fight for your rights! In May, the people from the Ekbastuz camp began to be gradually sorted from the prison to the general district. Now it's time to enlighten the Kenjill prisoners.At first, One just made a little show for them; in the old days it was legal for the handymen to go to the shop without queuing up, and this time they nearly strangled one who didn't.That was enough to spread the word throughout the camp: something new was about to happen!There is a play to watch!This group of newcomers is not like us K, and it cannot be said that the prisoners of the Zhezkazgan labor camp did not touch their eyes at all before this.However, that is still an isolated phenomenon and has not formed a trend.In 1951, in Ludnik Prison, someone robbed the guard's key, opened the cell that had already been targeted, and killed the eyeliner Kozuuskas. ) Now two secret "centers" have also been established in the Kengil camp, the Ukrainian and the "All-Russian".Some knives and masks are prepared for the "slaughter".So, the story started all over again. Eyeliner Vojnilovic "hanged himself" on the iron bars of the cell window.Two more - a squad leader named Belokopet and Lifshitz, an orthodox eyeliner who had been a member of the Revolutionary Military Council during the Civil War and had confronted Dutov's troops - were killed up. (Lifschitz had been a librarian for a long time in peace at the Liberal and Educational Section of the Ludnik labor camp branch, but his reputation spread. So he was killed on his first day in Kengil.) There was also a Hungarian police captain who was hacked to death with an ax near the bathroom.At this time, Sauer, who had been a minister of the Soviet Estonian Republic, was the first to open the way to the "storage room"-he escaped into the prison. However, the camp owners already knew what to do.Here, the boundary walls between the four labor camp branches have already been repaired, and now they want to separate each work shed with walls, and eight thousand prisoners started building walls again in their spare time.Each work shed was divided into four units that are not connected to each other. Each community and each unit locks the door separately.According to their ideals, it would be better to divide the whole world into individuals! The Warden, the head of Kengil, was a professional boxer.He uses prisoners as targets for boxing practice.He also invented a method in prison: hitting people with a hammer on a plywood pad, so that no wounds will be left. (Anyone who does practical work in the Ministry of the Interior understands that it is impossible to rehabilitate a person without beating him or killing a few people; and any practical prosecutor will probably agree with this view. However, there may be To a theorist! In case a theorist comes out, plywood is placed on it to avoid scars.) A western Ukrainian committed suicide because he could not be tortured and did not want to betray his friend.Others did not perform as well as he did.In this way, both centers are destroyed. And among the "combatants" there are ravenous rascals who don't want to make the whole movement a success, but always want to get something out of it for themselves.They asked people to bring them more things from the kitchen, and asked people to give them the mail parcels they received.These circumstances have brought damage to the movement here, and have discredited the movement. For those who choose the path of violence, this situation is probably inevitable.I think that when the bandits under Kamo, the Bolshevik in Georgia, handed over the stolen money to the finance office of the party organization, their own pockets were probably not all empty.It is also hard to believe that Koba (Stalin--Translator's Note) who led this group would not leave himself a little money for drinking.Alcohol was banned throughout Soviet Russia under military communism, but hadn't he kept that wine cellar in the Kremlin at that time, unceremoniously? ! Movement seems to be checked.But the eyeliners are much more honest after this first exercise.The whole atmosphere at Camp Kengil became much cleaner. The seeds are planted.But it doesn't grow right away, and it doesn't grow exactly the same. What is preached to us is that the individual cannot make history, especially if the individual moves against the progressive tide of history.But isn't it actually the same man who for a quarter of a century has us at the mercy of sheep without us daring to even bleat? !People tell us today: At that time, no one knew anything—the people at the tail didn't understand, neither did the pioneers, only the old cadres knew, but they chose to take poison in the corner and open fire at home. The way to kill yourself with a gun or live quietly on a pension without speaking the truth out loud to us from the pulpit. In this way, the task of seeking liberation falls to us dolls.Thus, at Ecbastus, five thousand of us put our shoulders under this heavy vault, and pushed up as hard as we could, until we managed to create a small crack in it.Although the crack is small and invisible from a distance, and despite the internal wounds we have suffered from it, there is a crack, and the crack expands into a gap. Of course, apart from us, in addition to special labor camps, there have been riots, but those bloody pasts have been completely diluted, whitewashed, and washed away, so that it is impossible to give an approximate number of labor camp riots.I just learned by accident that in 1951 the authorities of the Vahlushevo labor camp on Sakhalin Island put three captured escapees in front of the watchtower and stabbed them to death with bayonets. Hundreds of prisoners went on hunger strike for five days and nights, causing great disturbance and many arrests.It is also heard that there was a big riot after the shooting of prisoners in front of the watchtower in Ozerlag on September 8, 1952, which killed them. Obviously, Stalin's labor camp system was already facing a crisis in the early 1950s, especially the special labor camps.甚至那位"全能的人"在世的时候劳改营的居民们就已经开始扯断自己的锁链了。 很难设想，假如他健在的话，这一切将会怎样发展下去。但是，突然，（不是按照经济规律，也不是按照社会规律）那个矮小的麻脸的个人的血管中慢慢流动着的衰老而肮脏的血液停止流动了。 根据"先进理论"的说法，这事其实是不应该引起任何变化的。而那些戴蓝滚边帽的人三月五日那天尽管躲在岗楼里痛哭流涕，但也并没有害怕这件事。至于穿黑棉袄的人们（那一天没有放他们到营区外面去劳动），虽然在得知广播哀乐并已挂出黑边旗后把三弦琴弹得叮咚响，却也没有敢抱多大幻想。尽管如此，好象地底下还是有某种神秘的东西开始震荡、开始移动了。 不错，一九五三年三月底实行的大赦（劳改营的人把它称为"伏罗希洛夫大赦"）的基本精神仍然是完全忠于死者的思想的，即：爱护盗贼，扼杀政治犯。这个大赦追求的是刑事罪犯的支持，它把盗贼像老鼠一样撒向全国，让和平居民去受害，宁肯让自由的和平居民在自家窗户上安上铁栅栏，宁肯让警察去把从前捕过的人再重新逮捕。但对于犯第五十八条的人，则严格地按照过去的比例释放；肯吉尔第二劳改分点三千名政治犯中仅仅释放了……三名！ 这样的大赦只能使苦役犯们确信：斯大林之死并未改变任何东西；对政治犯过去没有宽恕过，今后也不会宽恕；如果政治犯们想在地球上活下去，必须自己斗争！ 因此，一九五三年很多劳改营都发生过骚乱。乱子闹得小一点的如卡尔拉格的第十二劳改点。大一些的如戈尔拉格的起义（诺里尔斯克）。如果多少有些材料，关于诺里尔斯克的起义完全可以单独写一章，可惜我一点材料也没有。 ．但是，暴君的死亡也并非毫无益处。不知道为什么，一直隐藏在某个地方的某种东西动起来了，动起来了。忽然，仿佛有一阵空洋铁桶翻滚似的铁皮的咚咚声，于是又一个个人头朝下倒栽下来了，而且是从阶梯的最上层一直滚进了大粪坑。 现在所有的人，不管是先锋还是队尾，甚至群岛上的我们这些绝望的居民也都明白了：一个新时期开始了。 贝利亚的倒毙在群岛上特别震撼人心：他是古拉格群岛的最高保护人和总督啊！内务部的军官感到迷惑不解、窘困难堪、手足无措。在电台已经广播，无法把这恐怖消息塞回播音器里的时候＿在不得不从斯捷苦劳改营管理局的墙上摘掉那个"和蔼可亲的"保护人的像片时，斯捷普拉格的首长切切夫上校颤抖着嘴唇说："全完啦！"（但是，他错了。他还以为第二天他们都要受审判呢。）军官和看守们失去了信心，甚至不知所措，这一点囚犯可以明显地感觉到。肯吉尔营第三劳改点的头头从来没有给囚犯看见过笑脸，现在忽然来到惩戒队的劳动工地上坐下来，请囚犯们吸烟了。 （他需要观察、了解一下：这个混浊的人群中有没有什么火花在闪烁？他们可能造成什么危险？）一喂，怎么搞的？你们总局的第一把手原来是个人民敌人？ ! "囚犯们以嘲笑的口吻问他。"是啊，可不是嘛！ "这位惩戒营的军官伤心地回答。"可他是斯大林的左右手啊！这么说，连斯大林也没看出来？ "正在受惩戒的囚犯咧着嘴笑。"可不是嘛……"军官也和和气气地回答。"怎么样，小伙子们，也许快要释放你们了。等等看吧……" 贝利亚不仅自己完蛋了，他还给自己的忠诚的机关留下了一个"贝利亚分子"的恶名。从前，任何犯人，任何自由人都不敢对内务部任何军官的纯洁性表示哪怕一丝一毫的怀疑，否则就有生命危险。而现在，只要给其中的某个坏蛋扣上一顶"贝利亚分子"的帽子，此人就不能再受到什么保护了！一九五三年六月，在列奇劳改营（沃尔库塔）有两件事情巧合了：正在群众由于贝利亚的倒台而情绪激昂的时候，从卡拉干达和泰谢特押来几批骚乱分子（大部分是西部乌克兰人）。在此之前沃尔库塔的囚犯们还是奴隶般驯顺的，所以当他们看到新来的犯人个个是那么不肯妥协和敢于斗争，心里感到惊奇。 就这样，我们曾经花费几个月的时间才走过来的道路在沃尔库塔只一个月就走过了。七月二十二日，水泥厂、二号热电站建设工地、第七号矿井、第二十九号矿井、第六号矿井全部罢工了。这些单位彼此遥遥相望，工作停止。煤矿的卷扬机的大轮子停止转动的情况互相能够看见。他们没有重犯埃克巴斯图兹营的错误：没有宣布绝食。看守人员立即全部逃出了营区，但是，"首长，还得给饭吃呀"l当局不得不每天把粮食运到囚犯的生活区，从大门里塞进去。（我想，这些家伙是由于贝利亚完蛋才变得这么好说话的，否则早就采取"断绝粮草"的战术了。）罢工的营区成立了罢工委员会，建立了"革命秩序"。伙房的炊事员立即停止偷窃，因而在口粮数量不变的情况下伙食明显地改善了。第七号矿井挂出一面红旗，第二十九号矿井朝着附近的铁路方向挂出了……政治局委员们的大照片。是啊，他们有什么别的可挂呢？……要求什么呢？……要求拿掉身上的号码，取消窗上的铁栅栏和门上的锁（可是他们并没有自己撕下号码，没有自己拆掉栅栏）。他们还要求允许通信，会见亲友，重新审查案件。 一只是第一天有人对罢工者进行过劝说。然后，整整一星期谁也没有来。但是，了望塔上架起了机枪，各罢工营区都被警卫部队团团围住。可以想象得到，这些日子必定有不少官员在去莫斯科的路上来回奔走：在新情况下怎样作才正确？这可不容易判断。一星期以后，马斯连尼科夫将军、列奇特种劳改营长官杰列维扬科将军、总检察长鲁坚科等带着大批随从（近四十人）来巡视各个营区了。这群显赫人物把囚犯全部召集到劳改营操场上开会。囚犯席地而坐，将军们站着讲话，责备囚犯们不该怠工，"不象话！"同时也立即说明囚犯的"某些要求是有道理的。"（"身上的号码可以摘掉！"窗上的铁栅栏？--"已经下令拆除！"了。）但是，应该立即复工："国家需要煤！"这时，第七号矿井的囚犯队伍里不知是谁从后面喊了一声："可我们需要自由！滚你的……！"只见囚犯们从地上站起来，纷纷离去了。最后操场上只留下将军那批人。 人们马上撕下了身上的号码，开始拆卸窗上的铁栅栏。但是，队伍已经开始分裂，士气有所低落，有人在想：是不是该适可而止？反正争取不再到更多的东西。这样，夜班已经有一部分人出工，第二天早晨全都出工了。矿井的机器又转动起来。大家互相一看：人家已复工，咱们也复工吧，所有工地全开始了工作。 只有第二十九号矿井位于山后，从那里看不见别的工地。军官们对他们宣布：别处都已复工了。可是这里的人不相信，也不出工。其实，只要把他们几个代表带去其他工地看看，问题是很好解决的、但这样对待囚犯未免过分客气，有伤体面吧？ !而且将军们正渴望着流血呢，他们认为：不流血就算不得什么胜利，不流血不足以教训这些畜生！ 八月一日，十一辆满载士兵的大卡车来到第二十九号矿井。囚犯们被召集到大门前的空场上，大批士兵排成密集队形集结在门外。"上工去！不然我们就要采取无情手段！" 并没有说明无情手段是什么。看看这些冲锋枪吧！silence.There was silence.人群中有些分子开始走动了。为什么要死呢？尤其是那些刑期不长的人们……那些刑期只剩下一年半载的人开始往前走了。但是，另外一些人却更坚决地抢到他们前面去，站在第一排挽起手来，面对着工贼们形成了一条封锁线。群众犹疑不决。一名军官企图冲破这条封锁线，人们用铁条打他。杰列维扬科将军往旁边倒退几步，下了命令："开枪！"朝人群开枪。 自动步枪三次排射，还夹杂着机枪点射。六十六人被当场击毙。（被打死的是些什么人？是站在前面的人：那些最大无畏的人总是最先倒下去。这是一条普遍规律，格言里也是这么说的。）其他囚犯四散逃跑，警卫队拿着棍棒和铁条追，边打边往营区外面赶。 从八月一日至三日连续三天在各个罢工的劳改点进行了大逮捕。不过，怎么办呢？失去了保护人的机关已经有点转动不灵了，侦查工作也无法进行。于是，只好又编成押解队把这些人押到别处去，即把这"传染病"送到别处去。群岛越来越显得狭窄了。 对于留下来的人全部实行惩戒制度。 在第二十九号矿井内，白天可以看到工棚房顶上有许多用板条钉的补丁，那是修补了士兵冲锋枪留下的弹洞：有些士兵是朝人群的头顶上射击的。那是一些不愿意当杀人凶手的无名士兵。 但是，朝着活靶子开枪的人也不少。 在赫鲁晓夫时期，有人在第二十九号矿井的牙子山附近的公墓上竖起了一个高大的十字架，像电线杆那么高。后来被人推倒了。但不久又有人把它重新竖立起来。 我不知道它现在是否还矗立在那里。