People here in America very often ask me how was your early life in the Soviet Union. I have a standard answer to that question. I had a very happy childhood. I had no worries. I had no idea what was happening on the other side of "iron curtain" and thus. I never wondered if life somewhere else was better or worse than mine. I had no idea... Later I added one more sentence to my standard answer - I was never starving. In my adult life I have had opportunities to travel quite a lot and meet many people either from Russia or the ex Soviet Union. Some of these people were starving when they were kids. Thus, I had luck. Little did I know that sometimes my parents were really struggling to get the food on the table or to find money for our school excursions. I had a happy childhood.
When Estonia gained its independence in 1991, I was still a child. I could not perceive the significance of it. It hit me years later. I feel that being away from my home country makes me an even bigger Estonian patriot than ever been before.
Just a few days ago (Aug 20th) was Estonia´s re-independence day, coinciding with the collapse of the USSR. Next year we will celebrate the 100th anniversary of Estonia`s modern independence, which was made possible at the end of World War I. Both of my parents were born in this Estonian "First Republic". My home land was invaded at the outset of World War II, and after changing hands a few times between Hitler and Stalin was forcibly incorporated into the USSR at the end of World War II. As of today the "Second Republic" has endured for 26 years, already longer than the first. I wish my Great Uncle Hartvig Sikk would have lived long enough to see the end of the Soviet occupation.
I have long wanted to write about my Great Uncle. He was one talented guy - a doctor, an artist, and a real Estonian patriot who carried the dream of Estonia´s freedom in his heart after Estonia was occupied by the Soviet regime.
His official name was Hartvig Sikk, but he was called Hart. My Mom has talked a lot about him. I have read the letters he sent his family after WWII till the final day of his life. I am really sad I never had a chance to know him. He was my Mother´s hero.
He was born in 1921. He studied medicine in Tartu University. In 1941, he was drafted into the Soviet army, but he escaped from the train that was to take him away. He served the German army instead, which did not mean he was a nazi supporter. Back then men often had no choice which invader to serve. Sometimes brother was fighting against brother. He made his choice. His choice was to fight for a free Estonia.
At the end of the war he had to go into hiding. He had more than one sin. In addition to serving on the wrong side in the war, he was also intelligent. Very often the latter was sin enough to get deported to Siberia. He managed to hide for years living by his sister (my Grandmother). There was a lot of work on the farm. He helped with farm work by putting on women´s clothes and going out on the field to make hay for the cows and such. The neighbors knew, which was risky, but they never said a word. Sometimes when things got hot, he had to hide in the forest. There he joined a group called the Forest Brothers. These people were fighting against the Soviet regime. My Great Uncle´s days in hiding ended when his group of Forest Brothers got ambushed and arrested. My Great Uncle got arrested at my Grandma´s farm. His main crime was undermining the Soviet regime by being part of the Forest Brothers and fighting against communism. He was sentenced to the Mordva prison camp in Siberia, at first for 25 years. His sentence was later shortened to 15 years. The year was 1953. My Grandmother was sentenced to the Harku women´s prison (in Estonia) for 5 years for providing the cover for a "dissident". She had to leave her 2 young daughters behind - my Mom and her little sister. My Grandmother was freed three years later.
According to Hart´s letters, he led a privileged life in the prison camp. He had a private room where he lived and worked as doctor and x-ray specialist. There was an old x-ray machine which he had to fix himself. In his letters he never complained but he missed home, his family, and his freedom. In one letter he wrote on 18th of February 1959, just a few days before Estonia´s Independence Day, he drew an Estonian blue-black-white flag in the header of his letter. Any display of this flag of mention of Estonian independence was strictly forbidden in Soviet times. Since all the outgoing and incoming mail was checked, it was definitely a brave move. It was apparently either missed or ignored. Very often you could read in between the lines what he was trying to say.
His letters were always very long, written from edge to edge. No inch of paper was wasted.
Even in these dark times there was an Estonian lady who most definitely lit up his life and gave him some hope. Her name was Leida. She was visiting a prisoner in the camp and happened to meet Hart. They fell in love. They got the privilege to meet once in a while. The story about her is kind of confusing. My family did not really trust her since there was doubt that she might be somehow connected to the KGB. There was never any proof however. What does raise a question mark is the fact that she got married just 6 months after my Great Uncle died. More questions than answers, but unfortunately there is no-one left to ask.
In 1968 my Great Uncle´s prison sentence came to an end. On March 17th he walked out the prison camp´s gate. He took about 100 steps and collapsed. He was taken to the local hospital where he died during surgery. When his body was returned to his sister for burial in Estonia they noticed he was all yellow. There was no official explanation about his death. There was suspicion that he was poisoned, but again, there are more questions than answers.
My Great Uncle vowed to fight communism till the end of his life. The last 15 years of this fight was rather silent.
People here sometimes ask if I plan to give up my Estonian citizenship and take U.S. citizenship. Being Estonian is such a big part of my identity the answer has to be no. My Great Uncle would certainly never approve of that.
