Gunner Czesław Blachuta, 20 years old, student, single.
[I was arrested and] deported from Białystok on 13 April 1940. I was arrested together with my mother and sister and deported to Kazakhstan, Pavlodar Oblast, Pavlodar region, Pavlodar state farm. It was an old Kyrgyz village reminiscent of tsarist times. The buildings, not counting the house of the state farm director and the money changer, were made of clay and dung. The local population had one-room apartments, while the Poles were housed in buildings previously occupied by skot, ie, calves and pigs. Hygiene was initially at a very high level, but time and conditions began to take their toll.
At first, the state farm numbered about 130 so-called spetspereselens, most of whom were Poles. There were four Jewish families and one Ukrainian family.
Life was very hard, because the state farm was not self-sufficient and had debts. I normally started the day at 5.00 a.m. Breakfast, dressing and washing lasted, on average, half an hour, and at 5.30 a.m. I was already at the stables [?], where I harnessed up the bulls (oxen) and went off to collect hay. At. 11.00 a.m. I returned, and at 12.30 p.m. I left for the second time. I normally finished work at 8.00 p.m. On other days when I did not set off to fetch hay, I worked at the base, transporting fertilizer, etc. The working conditions were very bad. [We were mainly afflicted by] a lack of appropriate clothing and footwear, housing conditions, food and very low pay (on average, our monthly wages could buy 16 kg of flour), so that almost everyone had to get rid of their most-needed things at relatively low prices.
Camaraderie and relations were not always very good, due to the fact that 10 families had to cook on one stove because of overcrowding in the barracks, etc., but generally speaking, the camaraderie was good.
The books that some people had did the rounds, so we had some access to culture.
The NKVD’s attitude towards the Poles was definitely hostile. At every step, it was emphasized that England was to blame for everything and that Poland would never rise again.
There was medical assistance at the state farm, i.e. there was an infirmary—very poorly equipped—and [there was] a doctor who limited himself to giving sick leave to the bedridden, who almost always went to Pavlodar, about 20 km from the state farm, and only there could they get their hands on any medicine. Before the outbreak of the [German-Soviet] war it was possible to get treatment at the hospital in Pavlodar, but at the time of its outbreak, all hospitals were occupied by the wounded.
Until the outbreak of the war, we had postal communication with the homeland. Those who had families, or good friends in Poland, were sent parcels with food and clothing.
Until the Polish-Soviet Treaty was in place, freedom of movement was partially limited, i.e. we could only move within the vicinity of the state farm, and it was necessary to report to the NKVD if we wanted to leave for another oblast or region or the region, and it was the same if we needed to change our place of residence.
With the conclusion of the pact, we obtained complete freedom of movement, and were issued the so-called udostoverenya, which served as identity papers. In the meantime, the Polish army began to organize itself. A lot of Poles, including myself, left for the purpose of joining the army. For reasons beyond my control, I did not join the army in the fall, but I finally managed on 8 March 1942, when I joined the 10th Infantry Regiment [of] the 10th Regiment of Light Artillery in Lugovoy.
Army base, 27 February 1943.