The next morning, the snow picked up in intensity, making it more difficult to spot the markers, even in daylight. We continued forward at a crawl. The wind picked up, and some men worried that a blizzard approached. Over the next few hours, visibility became progressively worse. Some of the men wanted to stop until the weather improved, but others maintained that we should continue until we found a wooded area. As it started to get dark, the winds started coming in gales.
When I saw that those ahead of me had stopped and gathered to talk, I hurried up to hear what they said.
“We have to camp here,” someone yelled. “There is no use in going on.”
“If this is a blizzard, it can go for days,” Jozef yelled back. “If we wait here, we’ll freeze to death.”
“Where will we go? We can’t see the markers.”
“We’ll look for wood,” said Jozef.
“If we go looking for a forest, we’ll lose the markers,” a man protested.
“If this is a blizzard, you’ll lose the markers in the drifts anyway,” said Jozef.
“You don’t know this is going to be a blizzard,” yelled another man. “It may stop by morning.”
“This is going to be a blizzard,” yelled yet another. “Every time we have had wind this strong, it was a blizzard.”
Someone approached Jozef. I couldn’t see him well, but it looked like Kalinski. “If we go and lose sight of the markers, we have no chance,” he said. “On our trip up, the trail was never more than a day away from a wooded area. We’ll build banks and wait here. When things are better, we’ll follow the markers until we come across a forest.”
“We can lose the markers anyway when the drifts come,” said Jozef.
“If the wind can cover them up, it can just as quickly uncover them,” responded Kalinski.
“We’ll find wood and make fires,” said Jozef. “After the storm, we’ll just head southwest. We don’t need the markers. We’ll go by the sun and the moss.”
“The only way to stay warm is to keep moving,” yelled Stefan.
A strong gust almost knocked me over. A man next to Kalinski shook his head. “If we head off now and look for a forest, there is no guarantee we will find it. Even if we do, we’ll lose the markers.”
“If the markers are within twenty-four hours of a forest, why not start now?” asked Stefan.
“You won’t know if you’re going in the direction of the markers,” Tomek replied.
To my own amazement I yelled out, “The markers don’t follow the forests, it’s just the nature of the terrain.”
Kalinski shook his head. “No, no I think we should build camp here. You know what the Siberians say about snow. They don’t care about snow; all they worry about is the wind. We’ll make big banks and stay close together. We’ll keep each other warm until this is over.”
“We’ll slowly freeze to death,” said Stefan. He and Jozef walked a short distance away.
Kaz had joined the group as the men talked. “There’s no good choice,” he said to me as we walked over to Stefan and Jozef.
Jozef looked very disturbed. He wasn’t the type to change plans and go against Kalinski.
“Leaving the markers is risky,” said Stefan to Jozef. “What will we do after the storm passes?”
“If we can’t find the markers after the storm, we’ll go by the sun and the moss,” said Jozef. “The town is southwest of here. If we hit the river that guy was talking about, we’ll know we’re in the area.” He sighed. “Look Stefan, I don’t know which is the better choice; it all depends on the size of this storm. But sitting here waiting for good weather is the quickest way to die. It happens all the time out here.”
Some wanted to stay and others wanted to continue; most didn’t know what to do. Kaz and I joined others who watched the men building banks for the camp. None of us helped. I could read the minds of the men around me: were the banks shelters, or graves? I didn’t know, and neither did they. But we would freeze to death if we stood around much longer. What was I going to do? Either make a bank, or seek the woods. I stared at the banks in front of me. They looked like white tombstones. Something told me to run.
“Screw Kalinski,” said Kaz. “We don’t have to listen to him.”
“I don’t like these banks,” I said. “They look scary.”
“Screw Kalinski and screw his markers,” said Kaz.
“What’s Jozef mean about the moss?” I asked.
“What?”
“Jozef said something about using the moss—what did he mean?”
“We are going to look for woods,” yelled Jozef to everyone. “Come with us if you want.”
Men started to divide, but not according to barrack this time; this was a decision everyone had to make for himself. My decision was made—I was going with Stefan and Jozef. I’d planned to escape with them before, why should I do anything different now? Besides, my father had told me to look for my brother.
Tomek and Yuriy decided to stay with the camp. Kaz joined our group. I didn’t see Patryk.
Jozef walked over to Kalinski. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Kalinski threw his arm out several times, and pointed at the ground. He was obviously yelling at Jozef. The wind blew stronger; it cut right through my clothes. We had to start moving soon. Jozef just stood there with Kalinski. I wondered why Jozef put up with him.
He finally walked away. “Stubborn ass,” he muttered as he walked by me.
About fifty of us left. We started out in what we thought was a southerly direction. The wind drove the snow before it; we couldn’t see further than our outstretched arms. To prevent separation, we traveled in pairs, holding the coats of the men ahead of us. We walked with our heads completely down to protect our faces from the wind—there was nothing to see anyway. We had no idea where we were headed; we could have been traveling in a circle.
The snow built up on our clothes, on our bent heads, in the beards of the men; we looked like snowmen. After marching for many hours, I started to get worried about my feet. They had stopped hurting and that was a bad sign.
The sky lightened, but the wind and snow continued. This was a full-blown blizzard. The day never really developed; thick clouds obscured the sun, and we marched through perpetual dusk until darkness descended again. I ate while I walked—I needed the energy to march and I saw no reason to save food now.
After marching for about two hours in almost total darkness, someone yelled, “Woods!”
We entered a small copse and immediately began chopping wood, but we could not get a fire started. We had dry grass root and even fine, dry pieces of bark, but the wind was too strong. Six of us surrounded the man with the flint rock, standing as close together as we could, but the wind still managed to gust through.
Finally, one of the men built a snow bank, crawled into it, and lay down with his back to the opening. We waited anxiously outside as he struck the flint rock again and again; finally we heard a muffled exclamation, and he backed out of his snowy cavern with a small, glowing piece of bark. He transferred the tiny flame to a small stack of sticks. It took several hours to get the fire going.
“Feet away, feet away from the fire,” some yelled.
Copyright by Robert Ambros 2002. All rights reserved.