Memories of metsavend Ruuben Lambur
(July, 1947, age 21) “Not even an hour had passed when I became involved in a battle. I tried to shoot back but suddenly something hit me in the face. I fell. My head hurt and echoed within, I couldn’t hear anything, my face was swollen and I could only see a bit with one eye, the other was completely swollen. I felt the pain as though through a dream. A small wound was under my left eye where the bullet had entered. The back of my neck had a huge swollen wound. My strength was gone, my pistol was beside me, empty of bullets. A terrible feeling overcame me. I had lost everything: my brothers had been killed, family members had been deported to Siberia, my home destroyed, and my country overrun by foreign powers. And I was lying waiting for something. What else was there to hope for?”
“But simultaneously I re-called my fellow metsavennad (Forest Brothers) who had even worse wounds and were able to regain their will to carry on. Why, then, should I give up? A pine forest became my hospital bed, friends and chamomile tea compresses helped heal my wounds. Within a month I was on my feet, weapon in hand, ready to continue the fight. Whatever happened to us, metsavennad, giving up was not a consideration.”
Most know of the metsavennad who, during WWII, resisted Soviet invaders by surviving in bunkers deep in Estonian forests and evading capture so that they could help fight to maintain Estonia’s freedom. But, in the fall of 1947, Ruuben fell into a trap and was captured by Soviet forces. As a political prisoner, he was transported in a cattle car to Vorkuta Gulag camp in Russia, north of the Arctic Circle. There, as in the olden days, there was a slave auction during which commanders chose a workforce for the coal mines, some in excess of 5,000 workers.
Prisoners were given 300 grams of bread a day and, as Ruuben recalls, “When you have to do hard labor on a constantly empty stomach, when you’re shoved, when you come up from the mine black with coal dust, you’re wet, outside it’s sometimes -40 to -50 degrees, you have to trudge 2 km to the camp. Once you arrive, you’re frozen. Your clothes are like an exoskeleton around you, and at times the rags around your feet have frozen to your skin.”
Just a number
He continues, “Such inhumane conditions, sickness and starvation caused many to die within a short time. We weren’t even people any more. We were just numbers. We were called by our numbers, which were on our hat, knee and back. The number was large and had to be easily visible. The morale required to stay alive was basically this: you could never dream, and you were not allowed to think. You had to rend yourself from everything, to see the surrounding filth, and accept yourself as filthy. You had to blend into the surroundings, you had to be unreservedly within it, otherwise your soul might become crushed and you broke.”
10 million people suffered terror and carnage before Stalin’s death in 1953. Then politics began to play a role and, in the 1960’s, college students throughout the Russian Federation were among those arrested and transported to the labor camps. As Ruuben remembers, “Among them were Enn Tarto, Erik Udam, Mart Niklus, Kiik and many others. They introduced a fresh perspective which brought new strength to continue the resistance. I had spent sixteen years in the dark but with them I began to see again. With the younger generation I was no longer a moving robot. I regained hope for life, for freedom, and a new purpose for living. They held patriotic speeches which reflected my own thoughts when I had been their age. Their hope and energy restored to my soul something that had been taken away.”
What’s freedom?
Then, in 1965, at age forty, Ruuben was finally able to return to Estonia. But he was disappointed to realize that the world had changed without him. His sister, whom he had last seen when she was six, met him with two children. And even worse was the fact that most of those in their twenties knew nothing of the deportations, political arrests or the Forest Brothers’ resistance. “Carefully, with ironclad consistency, the Soviets had successfully brainwashed people. They weren’t allowed to know anything about freedom, so anything mentioned in literature, on monuments – not to mention people themselves – had to be totally destroyed. Even as babies were learning to speak, they were told about Stalin, his accomplishments, and that we were indebted to him.”
“Older people who did remember were afraid to even whisper, since any wrong word would return them to the slave camps. So, I took it upon myself to explain what had actually happened to those whom I met, so that they could be enlightened. Such nice discussions led the authorities to ask me whether I wanted to return to the camps. I responded that I had said nothing wrong. They claimed I was harassing people. I said that was their problem, and that I’m not a criminal, I haven’t attacked anyone. But times had changed in 1967-1968, and I continued to share facts until the Baltic Chain and Singing Revolution, when the feelings of unity and desire for freedom came alive.”
Such are the loosely translated memories of metsavend Ruuben Lambur excerpted from a 24-page interview conducted in 2002 when Ruuben along with Hilja Sarapuu, another metsavend, enlightened rapt audiences in Lakewood, N.Y., CT, Long Island and Toronto. Ruuben died May 16, 2024 at the age of 98. The legendary metsavend’s funeral was attended by members of Estonia’s Defense League, Freedom Fighters, repressed people, Naiskodukaitse (Women’s voluntary defence organization), and Noored Kotkad (youth defence) as well as Viiu Vanderer from the U.S.; he was buried in Rakvere. Considering the critical fragility of current geopolitical affairs, Ruuben’s story reminds everyone to be wary and prepared, since no country’s freedom is guaranteed; patriotism and commitment are required. We were honored to consider Ruuben our friend. An interview with Ruuben filmed in Estonia can be viewed through this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gXkcRU2RmyU
Comedian Marcello Hernandez puts things in perspective: “I have a Cuban mom who escaped communism. When your mom escapes communism you can’t have a bad day. You get home from school and you’re like, “Mom, I had a bad day at school.” She’s like, “What happened? What happened that was so bad? Did somebody steal your freedom today?”“
Virve Jõks Lane and Viiu Vanderer
