CHAPTER 1 – The
Prussian German Exodus East

July 22,
1763. Following the conclusion of the Seven Years War and the death of her
husband Peter III, German-born Russian Empress Catherine the Great openly
proclaims that all Mennonite farmers and tradesmen, along with their families,
living in Germany are graciously welcome to settle within her newly expanding
Russian Empire. Her declaration initiated a new chapter in history. Thereafter,
German Mennonites from the old country began immigrating in flocks to the
southern part of modern-day Ukraine, where the land was not only fruitful, but
also free from conflict, religious persecution, military conscription, and
other hardships that persisted in their native Prussia (Germany) during the
1700's. The Mennonites’ faith alone prohibited them from bearing arms, which
played a significant role in their exodus east in search of their own
“Lebensraum” (living space).

Convinced
that agriculture was the pillar of the Russian economy, Catherine the Great
necessitated diligent and skilled farmers to settle the region. Mennonites from
abroad perfectly met all of these requirements. In 1789, the “1^st
Wave” of Mennonites arrived to colonize and prosperously cultivate the land at
Chortitza, Molotschna within Catherine the Great’s newly annexed region of the
Russian Empire. The barren soil bore fruits, barley, wheat and various other
crops. Hungry mouths became nourished. It was then only a matter of time before
this ambitious, diligent, closely knit, and family oriented Mennonite community
flourished. Despite living in reclusion and peace, these settlers, along with
the “2^nd wave” of Prussian Germans, some non-Mennonite, amassed
great wealth, at times as a result of reaping the benefits of trade with their
old country. Finally possessing a region to themselves afforded these Germans
the privilege of living in placated villages where homes and picket fences were
freshly christened every spring with an immaculate new coating of white wash
that was extracted from lime pits. 

Another
wave of Mennonite and non-Mennonite Prussian Germans migrated east between
1803-1806, where they too settled within the Molotschna region, modern day
Zaporozhe Oblast (province), Ukraine, which was located east of the Molochnaya
River. Then, in 1819, more than 250 Prussian families of much greater opulence
than those who came to the initial settlement based in Chortitza arrived. By
1835, it is believed that as many as 1,200 families in total settled in
Molotschna along the Molochnaya river - Mennonites on the east bank, and
non-Mennonite Germans, including a family called Tzitzer, on the west bank.
This Tzitzer family of great wealth migrated east during the 18th century, a
few decades following Catherine the Great's invitation. During the ensuing
century, this industrious family’s mass of riches, which included numerous
enterprises and estates, including vast hectares of land, a successful glass
factory, and a mansion with servants, only grew. The acquired respect and
veneration from their and surrounding communities complimented the Tzitzer’s
lavish lifestyle. Over a hundred years of prosperity followed before the
Communists ultimately succeeded in overthrowing the old guard in 1917.

As a part
of Tzitzer (little Hans' paternal lineage) tradition, every girl in the family
was entitled to receive an endowment of 20,000 golden rubles - valued to be
worth approximately 1 to 2 million dollars during the 1800’s - when a girl
reached the age of 17. During this time in Russia, people worked for 5 cents or
“kopeks” a day, so a mere ten Golden Rubles equated to a year’s worth of
salary, meaning that 20,000 golden rubles could have sustained generation upon
generation upon generation…. Louise Tzitzer (little Hans’ paternal
grandmother), the oldest of 8 siblings, turned 17 before the Russian revolution
of 1917, when the Reds eventually confiscated all of the family's wealth,
including their lands, estates, businesses, and mansion. But despite all of
these “expropriations”, Louise concealed and retained her fair share of the
family's wealth, mainly her 20,000-Golden Ruble endowment.

Fortunately,
Louise received her dowry before the revolution, unlike the rest of her siblings
who had to flee with relatively nothing to their names as the Tzitzer family’s
lives ultimately capsized. Them, along with countless others, were forced to
flee further south with nothing more than whatever they could load onto their
horse-drawn buggies and wagons. During the revolution, the Tzitzer family
became completely torn apart. Whatever happened to the remainder of the
family's heirloom of Golden Rubles remains a mystery. If they were buried for
safe-keeping, or carried along with the rest of the family’s belongings, or
even seized by the Communists, no one knows for sure.

CHAPTER 2 – The Red
Revolution & German Invasion

By the
time the Red October Revolution of 1917 plagued and plundered the entire
Russian Empire, not much of the Czar’s dynasty remained. The entire nation fell
into despair, anarchy, and hunger. Despite the empire’s tribulation, Louise
Tzitzer, a noble woman of non-Mennonite descent, still managed to live a life
of luxury, for the time being at least, with her Mennonite husband, Cornelius
“Corny” Friesen Sr. At this juncture in history, the Whites still controlled
the majority of south-western Russia (modern-day Ukraine), where Louise and
Corny Sr. safe-guarded her 20,000-Golden Russian Ruble endowment.

Some
ancestors believe that these rubles, now estimated to be worth over tens of
millions of dollars, were ultimately buried, and may possibly still be buried
to this day. Yet, others believe that Louise passed along her chest of rubles
onto her 1^st born son, Cornelius (Jr.) Friesen. A few years following the birth of Cornelius, a
Mennonite couple named Gossen, with Gerhard and Maria (little Hans’ maternal
grandmother maiden-name Reimer), brought Maria (and eventually Gerhard
Jr.) into the world. By the time the 2^nd World War broke out, the
young, beautiful, brown-haired Maria (Jr.)
Gossen, 17, and the stout, broad-chested Cornelius
(Jr.) Friesen, 19, conceived a
boy named Johannes Friesen, or “little Hans”, during the initial stages of the
Second World War. To this day, no one is certain whether Maria and Cornelius
were married at the time of the pregnancy, or if it was an undesired birth out
of wedlock, but nevertheless, time showed that Hans was just as unwanted as the
war that completely tore the family and Russian Empire apart and to shreds.

Prior to
WWI, the Red Revolution, and the onset of WWII, the Goosen’s, (little Hans’
maternal blood lineage), were a well to do family; however, once the first
breed of Bolsheviks and non-aligned outlaws and brigands marauded and plundered
the country during the revolution, the Goosen’s became hunted. Bandits stormed
their residence, and lined the entire family up against a wall, ready to
execute them all - women and children included – yet only until, one of the
bandits, not at a moment too soon, stepped directly in front of the executioner
armed with a rifle, and told the bandits,

 “You’ll
have to kill me first, before you kill them!”

This
heroic Red Bolshevik bandit once worked for the Goosen family, and had fond
memories of serving them. The Goosen’s hired help did not necessarily work for
money, but rather, for meals, room, and board. In the Goosen household, family
and servants ate together at the family table as one, making each and every
worker feel like a valued member of the Goosen family - an actuality which
ultimately led the Goosen’s to be spared and survive the Red Revolution and
WWI.

Decades
later, in 1941, Germans from the old country once again reasserted their
dominance over this very same, yet communist-controlled region. However, by
1944, the tides turned, when the Russians re-imposed their reign. A brutal and
merciless conflict ultimately forced the then, 4-year-old Mennonite boy
“little” Hans, along with his family and neighbours, to stave off death amongst
the floundering eastern meadows of carnage by travelling westward, in the
direction of the old country, along side not only fellow “easternized” Germans,
or self-named “Russaki”, but also the retreating German army.

CHAPTER 3 – Little
Hans

Johannes,
“little Hans”, Friesen was born to Cornelius and Maria in 1940 in the village
of Fürstenwerder, a settlement that was established in 1821. This small town
was located about 100 Km south of the initial Chortitza colony that was founded
in 1789. At the time, Fürstenwerder was made up of approximately twenty farms,
amongst over 4,700 acres of land. Mennonites were traditionally farmers, which
is why Catherine the Great desired that they settle in that particular
territory in modern-day Ukraine within her predominantly agrarian empire.

When the
2^nd World War commenced, Hans’ father, “Corny”, was conscripted into
the Russian forces after the long-standing Mennonites’ “special status”
exemption from military service was repealed. Hans’ father was deployed to the
front in Finland, even though he could barely speak much Russian at the time.
Hans and his mother, resultantly, were left behind with her family, since Maria
refused aid from Cornelius' side of the family. As WWII progressed, and Nazi
Germany initiated “Operation Barbarossa”, Hans’ father, Cornelius, was deployed
into the heart of Russia where he was forced into action against his German
brethren after the Deutsche Wehrmacht-led Nazi war machine viciously sought
Soviet soil.

Cornelius
ended up being captured by German forces during a battle. Upon discovery of
Cornelius’ Germanic heritage, the Nazi army compelled him to switch sides, and
join the Deutsche Wehrmacht (army), the hated adversary of the Red Army, where
Cornelius finished out his time of service in the army in Germany as a truck
driver. Yet, before Cornelius switched sides and joined the Germans, he was
granted furlough, affording him the opportunity to visit his son (little Hans),
and Hans’ mother, Maria. On this occasion, Cornelius pleaded with Maria, his
“wife”,

“Please take Hans and go live with my family. That's where he
belongs. Both of our families want this, and you know that it's the right thing
to do.”

The
young, snappy, and somewhat enigmatic Maria furiously responded,

“No!! He'll stay with me and my family! I don't care what you,
your family, or even my own family wants or thinks!! Nobody cares that I didn't
even want this little brat to begin with!! You forced him upon me!! I don’t
give a damn about what someone like you has to say!!!”

It was
customary amongst the “Russian”-German community for child and mother to reside
with the father’s family. But Maria had no interest in upholding old
traditions; however, little Hans’ 13-year-old “traditionist”, Uncle Jacob had
other ideas. So, one day, allegedly under the directive of Hans' father,
Cornelius’ younger brother Jacob snuck into Maria's family home and kidnapped
the eight-month-old little Hans, before bringing him to Cornelius’ family home
where little Hans “belonged”. Maria was left with no other choice but to
begrudgingly move in with Cornelius’ and Uncle Jacob’s family, even though she
resented not only them, but also her very own son even more so because of it.
Feisty Maria's anger, though, didn’t stop with them. She even harboured
bitterness towards her very own family, especially, her mother, who told her
daughter Maria,

“You may not like this, but you and Hans belong at Cornelius'
house with his family.”

Such a
“bold” statement left young Maria absolutely infuriated. Hans, resultantly,
became the one punished during the next four years of his life, a period in
which Mother mercilessly beat and emotionally tormented poor little Hans,
without an ounce of remorse. Acts of enraged and incensed brutality towards him
was seemingly Maria’s only means to release all of her vent-up antipathy and
fury, and find “salvation”, almost as if she were evoking revenge upon little
Hans for her circumstances. Merely longing for love and acceptance, little Hans
constantly sought out Maria’s parents' home, little Hans’ first home, a place,
not so coincidently, where his mother no longer resided. In an act of
desperation and defiance, little Hans constantly ventured out on foot in search
of his loving maternal grandparents’ home. He absolutely cherished his time
there with his maternal grandparents, and his loving Uncle Gerhard, Maria's
compassionate, warm, and accepting brother, whose life took a tragic turn for
the worst years later when he was burned alive in a barn in Poland by
partisans, near the conclusion of WWII, while predominantly Mennonite Germans,
made their exodus west, attempting to evade reprisals from the advancing
Russian Red Army.

Yet,
before the war hit home, and every Germanic villager who lived under Nazi
occupation had to flee the USSR, little Hans began fleeing to his maternal
grandparents’ house almost every morning after Mother left for work. Hans
embarked on a daily journey to his comforting safe haven, all alone - a regular
adventure that in due course brought him to his place of solitude. The maternal
grandparents’ home was not only little Hans’ birth house, but also a place of
sanctity where his fondest memories resided, a place where he felt protected
from his wicked mother, while pleasantly removed from his apathetic and
seemingly unresponsive paternal family.  

Such a
sense of protection, however, only lasted until Mother stopped by her parents’
in the evenings, following her shift as a town clerk at the office of the
magistrate, to pick up little Hans and bring him to Father’s home, sometimes
even when little Hans was already fast asleep. Though, Mother’s intentions had
little to do with motherly intuition, or the fact that she missed, loved, or
wanted to be close to little Hans, but rather a more lot to do with venting her
frustration by punishing him. Maria (Mother) evidently felt that it was
necessary to take out her wrath on little Hans, perhaps as a result of the fact
that she was forced into not only living at Corny’s family house, with his
family, but also seemingly having little Hans in the first place.

As Maria
walked into the kitchen of her family home, Uncle Gerhard, Maria’s younger
brother, out of love for his treasured nephew, said to his sister,

“Let me carry Hansi home. The little guy is already peacefully
sleeping away in your bedroom.”

However,
Mother had other ideas, along with no time for any compassion.

“No! This doesn’t concern you!”

Correspondingly,
she forced the tranquilly sleeping little Hans to wake up and walk back “home”
in his bare feet, while she beat him from behind with a stick that she broke
off from a bush, along the way. Wherever the stick happened to smack down upon
little Hans was of no concern to Mother, just as long as she caught her
“target”, which at times was even little Hans’ head, and anywhere else that the
stick happened to land. Uncle Gerhard attempted to compassionately intervene,
yet to no avail. To this day, Hans can still feel the pain that his mother’s
animosity and vengeance inflicted upon him. Her justification for such inhumane
treatment was always,

 “He must
learn to stay at home.”

Mother
had the mentality of a hardened-up war veteran, which was captured through her
merciless and brutal behaviour. Not even little Hans’ paternal grandfather (the
town mayor at one time) could protect little Hans, as he was unfortunately
taken away by the KGB, before Hans was even born, just to never return. If he
were immediately executed, or lived out the rest of his days toiling away in a
Russian work camp (a Gulag) in Siberia – the family will never know. Little
Hans' maternal grandfather also wasn’t spared. One night, the KGB stopped by
their home and led him away around the same time of the disappearance of Hans’
paternal grandfather, though Little Hans’ maternal grandfather was ultimately
released. When Hans’ maternal grandfather came back home a year later,
Grandfather’s loyal cow and dog just couldn’t stop lovingly licking him upon
his return. The cow immensely missed her best friend so much, after the dreaded
KGB took her master away, that the two of them became inseparable for days.
Ethnic Germans were familiar targets and foes of the KGB, who seemingly took
pleasure in sending Russian Germans to brutal work camps for alleged or
suspected collaboration with their brethren to the west, or in most cases, as a
pre-emptive measure to deter any subversive activities before the anticipated
German invasion in 1941.

Little
Hans’ paternal grandmother, Louise Friesen (Tzitzer), was never escorted away
by the KGB, but that didn’t prevent her from never forming a true bond with
little Hans. She was too busy nurturing and caring for Hans’ little sister
Wanda, who was born in 1943, three years after little Hans came into the world.
As far as Hans can recall, Louise, Cornelius' mother, showed little interest in
him. And perhaps it was this exact form of neglect that led little Hans to
become not only so determined and daring, but also so stubborn and obstinate.
Nothing could dissuade him from continuing on with his daily adventure of
travelling by foot across town to his maternal grandparents’ cherished home.

During
these little escapades, little Hans, every now and then, stumbled into a
rabbit’s hole. He absolutely loved entering the trenches in which the rabbits
were bred, by pushing up the fence and slipping his way in underneath. But
fence or no fence, playing with and cuddling these rabbits was always a
foregone conclusion and divine necessity for little Hans. Whenever his eventual
attempts to leave the rabbits’ quarters failed, little Hans made the best of it
by lulling himself to sleep inside of the rabbit hole. When the owners came
outside to offer the rabbits twigs to gnaw on and grass as forage, the rabbits’
breeders discovered nothing other than a boy sleeping amongst their rabbits,
sometimes right on top of rabbit food. The rabbits, though, were very accepting
of their guest, and happily welcomed him into their humble and confined abode
within their fenced-in 2 X 2 X 1-metre-deep rabbit “hole”, which was manually
dug out by the rabbits' owners. But they weren’t the only ones digging up the
ground.

The
mother rabbits also burrowed holes within the confines of their protective
captivity nest in order to have a place to hide their babies from predators,
just to subsequently fill in these holes with dirt, creating a small mound over
the babies' nest, marking exactly where their offspring were buried. From
feeding to feeding, the mother rabbits uncovered, and then reburied their
young. Whenever little Hans bore witness to such loving acts of kindness, he
discovered that the animals were being better fostered by their mothers than he
was. And perhaps that explains why little Hans stopped in at foreign houses
along the way to his maternal grandparents’ place, even if there weren’t a
child to play with there, just looking for love, affection, and attention –
whatever others could offer what his mother couldn’t. The residents at these
homes usually offered the curly, blond-haired, blue-eyed little Hans a little
food before he continued along on his way. The entire village eventually became
quite acquainted with little Hans. Many even began treating him as if he were
one of their own.

His
curiosity well complimented his outgoing and extroverted ways. No matter if he
were alone, or with fellow Germans, or even amongst a group of complete
strangers, little Hans never showed signs of bashfulness. Not even the
“gypsies” could scare him away. Little Hans had absolutely no qualms about
approaching these darker complexioned, foreign wanderers from travelling
caravans. Once a year, processions of nomadic, “homeless” gypsies popped up in
town on their wooden wagons, in search of food and whatever else could keep
them sustained and occupied. These nomadic gypsies simply desired the daily
necessities of life, while appreciating whatever they received. Surviving as
drifting vagabonds, they were constantly in search of something to earn, or
perhaps, on the rare occasion, even steal or pillage. Such a lifestyle was
apparently “engrained in their blood”, which meant that they were not necessarily
nurtured into such a means of living. But neither little Hans nor the Germans
living in the villages were bothered by that or them one bit for that matter.
These gypsies brought the “spice of life” to town, and were more than capable
of shedding sweat along with their derogatory reputation by earning an honest
living by repairing wagons, shoeing horses, telling fortunes, entertaining
people by playing instruments such as guitars, harmonicas, accordions,
trumpets…, or even carrying out the duties of a blacksmith. And despite what
the locals or uncles said about them, they were definitely not lazy. These
“gypsies” (Sinti and Roma) were simply after some nourishment, along with the
means to sustain themselves and survive while staying occupied. They laboured and
toiled in order to keep a roof over their head, just like everybody else.

During
the war, these visiting gypsies were graciously welcomed by the remaining
towns’ people, since most of the able-bodied men were off fighting in combat.
Hence, women, young and old, had to take on many of the “masculine chores” in
order to feed not only themselves, but also the children and the elderly. So,
whenever the gypsies reared their exotic heads in town, these women were very
appreciative, especially when they were offered a helping hand and pleasant
distraction. Fortunes were told for a loaf of bread, a few eggs, or a quart of
milk, items which theses gypsies sometimes secured by spitting on just so no
one would feel too enticed to steal or take a “delicious” bite out of their
wages. But some gypsies had a darker side, and were also known for occasionally
abducting healthy babies, with the intent of offloading them unto desperate
couples who either couldn’t have children, or lost a child during birth.

Hence,
when little Hans suddenly went missing one day, thoughts of such barters seeped
into the Friesen and Goosen families’ heads. Uncle Jacob, Uncle Henry, and Oma,
the noble Louise, immediately went storming from house to house into the night
asking,

“Have you seen little Hans!?!? We can't find him anywhere!!!
We've looked everywhere!”

The
residents at a few of the brick with a stuccoed faced Fürstenwerder homes,
informed them,

“We saw little Hans playing with the gypsies!”

When
morning came, the Friesens and Goosens resumed their search by approaching the
site of the gypsies’ caravan. Yet, when they went to seek out the gypsies, they
noticed that the caravan had fled town! Uncle Jacob immediately hollered,

“They must have kidnapped Hansi!!”

Oma Louise lamented,

“Ohhhh nein!!!! They're gonna sell him off!!! Henry, grab the
horse and go get'em!! Go catch those gypsies and poor little Hans!!!”

Hans'
Uncle Henry, the blond, handsome and “Aryan-like” younger teenage brother of
Hans’ father immediately mounted onto his horse and followed the gypsies’ wagon
wheel tracks into the next town. Twelve kilometres later, he located little
Hans surrounded by a horde of gypsies in the distance! Storming on his horse in
the direction of little Hans, Uncle Henry knew that he had to save him before
it was too late. Yet, when Uncle Henry got closer to little Hans and the
gypsies’ caravan, he realized that it was nothing more than a false alarm, or
at least to little Hans, who was there, happily playing with a pack of gypsy
kids without a worry or care in the world.

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