Russian invasion of Maslenki and disbandment of the border guard

In 1935, I was drafted into the Latvian Army in the 12th Bauska Infantry Regiment, where I completed company instructor and other courses. In mid-1937, I was transferred at my own request to the Border Guard Brigade, commanded by Gen. L. Bolšteins. The brigade consisted of four battalions: I Dagda Battalion, II Zilupe Battalion, III Abrene Battalion and IV Separate Battalion. Battalion commanders had the rights of regiment commanders. I served in the 1st platoon of the first company of the 3rd Abrene Battalion, in the second guard within the boundaries of the Masļenki farm. The guard consisted of 5–6 guards and a guard chief. The guard building was a one-story wooden house with two bedrooms for the guards, an office, the guard chief's apartment with two rooms and a kitchen. Next to it was a small wooden outbuilding where firewood or other belongings were stored. There was also a concrete cellar for food nearby. The guardhouse was located approx. 50 m from the Ludza River, which was also the border with the Soviet Union. The guarded zone was approx. 2 km. Armament: Leonfield carbine, bayonet (although it had to be worn only at night, they were not worn during the day), 30 cartridges had to be present. The platoon had one Vickers submachine gun, which was located at the platoon command post, where the platoon commander lived, approx. 1 km. from the border. Three guards lived in or near the platoon headquarters. We called them “headquarters men” – one of them was constantly on duty at the telephone. The platoon commander had 2 horses, a mount and a mount, which were taken care of by the “headquarters men”, since they were exempt from guard duty.

The guard duty was carried out as follows: during the day, from sunrise to sunset, there was one guard in the guarded zone. He had to observe the entire guarded zone on both sides of the border, according to the guard's instructions. They were called patrolling posts. They had to stay at SPEC points, which were called hideouts. The hideouts were numbered and had code words. This was intended to deceive those who were not supposed to know. At night, from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m., there were usually two guards at the posts. One stayed in the hideout, which was changed every hour according to instructions. The second guard was on the move throughout the guarded zone, he had to stop at certain times to the hideout guard and report observations. After sunset, the night posts had a password or nickname, which was changed at midnight to deceive again. Each guard had 8 hours of guard duty per day, the rest of the time for rest or other activities. A couple of times a month there were military exercises, and sometimes night exercises – the main one was shooting in the dark. I was the commander of the company’s bombing group. These exercises also had to be carried out during the day or at night in a place designated by the company commander, the activities of this group were intended for the event of war. Before the Russians entered their bases, we were on alert. A combat group of 8 men was formed from the first platoon, and I was appointed its commander. With this group, I was supposed to arrive at the company’s right wing at the end of the old highway. Here, in the foundations of a destroyed house, the company commander ordered a defensive support point to be set up, and the explosives intended for me were also delivered here with the order to await orders. This group was armed with one submachine gun and 1,000 rounds of ammunition, and each had a carbine and 200 rounds of ammunition. Russian bombers flew slowly over the entire border zone on our side at an altitude of 2–300 m; My fingers itched to fire a round, but shooting was forbidden. Every two hours, a messenger from the company commander came to me and informed me about the situation. Our higher command was in constant telephone contact with the army headquarters. On the other side of the border, we observed huge masses of the Russian army with heavy weapons, we could also hear commands, I stood at this point for three days and nights in a row, dozing right there. We knew what awaited us in the event of a Russian attack, but we were also ready to fight to the last man. I now remember with pride what patriotism was in our hearts, because no one felt fear.

Three days later, we received an order to return to our previous places of service, where less than a year later, the land of Latvia was drenched in our blood. I will continue these memories with the events of 1940, as well as list the names, ranks and positions of the commanding officers. Battalion commander Jansons, headquarters in the suburbs of Abrene, 18 km from the border. Company commander Captain Hollanders - company headquarters in the village of Augšpils, 12 km from the border. First platoon commander Senior Lieutenant Mednis, platoon commander's headquarters 1 km from the border. Second platoon commander Captain Hochločovs, in the village of Augšpils, 12 km from the border. Third platoon commander Senior Lieutenant Likums, platoon headquarters approx. 3 km from the border, I do not remember the name of the place. There were four companies in the battalion, I do not remember the names of the other company commanders. The number of people in the company was approx. 120 men, company sector guarded from 18–20 km depending on the terrain.

Civilians in the border zone were subject to the protection of border guards. After dark, civilian movement along the border was prohibited. For example, if a farmer's land adjoined the border, he was not allowed to be near the border at night. If it was urgent for a border resident to travel at night, for example, to a doctor or elsewhere, then in such cases he was issued a written permit. These were issued by the guard commanders or their deputies. Residents also had to request permission in the case of parties, to indicate the number of guests, their names, and their place of residence. Parties had to end about an hour before sunset. A border guard, who was usually also invited, would arrive at the party's home, and he had to, so to speak, spy and observe a little, as well as make sure that the party ended at a certain time. The duties of the service included getting to know all the border residents, as well as, to the extent possible, knowing their political leanings. I know of cases where politically unreliable people were expelled from the border region to the interior.

Now I will indicate the composition of the first platoon: the platoon commander is Lieutenant Colonel Mednis. The first guard is V. Lazdins, the number of guards is 7. The second guard is LKOK Fr. Purins, the number of guards is 6. The third guard is Corporal Blakšenieks, the number of guards is 6. I served in the second guard. In June 1940, the guard chief F. Purins went on annual leave to inspect his farm near Riga. I was his assistant and in his absence I performed the assigned duties. So then, before going on leave, he called me into the office and said: “I will be away for two weeks, and then see that everything is in order.” I replied: “This is not the first time.” He said: “I know that, you can be relied on.” He said goodbye to me with a handshake, kissed his wife Hermīne, his 14-year-old son Valdis, and left, not knowing that he was doing it for the last time. On June 14, I asked for permission from the platoon commander F. Mednis to go to a jewelry store in Augšpils, 12 m from the border. I received permission, with the condition that I be back by 4:00 p.m. I returned at the appointed time. Near the guardhouse, I saw that the platoon commander Mednis was already waiting for me, saying that he had to go on a business trip right away and that the head of the first guard, V. Lazdiņš, would remain in his place. We discussed various service matters, among other things, he warned: “Be careful, there is something hanging in the air,” after which he said goodbye and left. This time too, I did not know that I would see this stately officer and patriot for the last time. At the guardhouse, I told him what the platoon commander had said and we discussed various other matters. I wrote a list for the night shift (the guards changed themselves), got the password from V. Lazdiņš, which I gave to the night shift, because it was getting dark. I read the latest magazines and, without undressing, went to bed to rest. After midnight I went out to check on the guards. There were two guards on duty at that time — Macītis and Timuška. The other guards were on rest — Beizaks in the guardroom, Krieviņš and someone else. I don’t remember his name anymore, as they lived in a private house nearby as a married couple. Another guard was on vacation, I don’t remember his name. After checking the posts at approx. 1:00 p.m., I returned to the guardroom at night, because nothing special had been observed. I took off my boots and jacket, left my trousers on, because I had intended to go check on the posts in a couple of hours. I went to bed and fell asleep. In the other room, where a pyramid of weapons and ammunition was also placed, guard K. Beizaks was sleeping.

Suddenly I hear automatic weapons fire, grenade explosions, and glass breaking. I quickly jump out of bed and fall to the floor, as bullets pierce through the walls at chest height. I see the door being pushed open, and the guard Macītis falls through it and remains lying there. I lean over him and see that he has many hits. I see that in the other room, Beizaks also jumps out of bed. I call out to him:
“Kārli, throw the carbine” (we kept them unloaded). He does it, jumps out the window himself. Having grabbed the carbine, we quickly fire a few shots through the window at the attackers, who were not visible. I see that Beizaks falls while running. Pūriņš’s wife also jumps out the window, about 15 m from the guard, and also falls. All the time, automatic weapons fire is continuously coming through the walls. Suddenly it stops, then grenades thrown through the windows explode. The outside is full of acrid smoke, and the fire is spreading at an unimaginable speed. In the meantime, I rush to the office, lie down and try to call, but there is no contact. Rare shots are heard outside. In the heat of the smoke and fire, I start to run out of breath. I think: it’s better to be shot than to burn alive. I left the carbine on the floor, jumped out the window and ran towards the river with the idea of hiding somehow. As I ran, I felt bullets flying past me and thought they would catch me too. However, I reached the river, jumping into it, I didn't see a group of Russians swimming towards us, they shouted at me to raise my hands. With bayonets from the front and back, they ordered me to follow them to the Russian headquarters, on the other side of the border. It all happened very quickly, I think - in about 10 minutes.

On the Russian side, I was taken into a brick building along a long corridor with rooms on both sides, the doors of which were closed. I was herded into a large room with several tables, but no benches. After about 15 minutes, a Russian officer entered the room and asked in a loud voice if I was an officer and what my name was. I replied that I was not an officer, but he said - well, we'll see about that. I noted that I knew Russian very poorly. My wristwatch no longer worked, because when I jumped into the river, water had seeped into it. Since I was barefoot, without a jacket and wet trousers, and without a hat, I began to freeze. I thought that if I was a prisoner, I should be somewhat clothed. I started to bang on the door; someone opened it, asked in a harsh voice what I wanted. I indicated my position and said that I was freezing. After a while the door opened, an old overcoat and rubber slippers were thrown in. These were also my clothes during my captivity. It was daylight. Walking around the room, I noticed machorka (coarse tobacco) scattered on some tables, picked up a newspaper from the floor, tore off a piece and rolled a Russian cigarette in it. I knocked on the door again, because there were no matches. It opened, and I got a light from the guard. This stuff smelled, but I wanted to smoke. I began to think about the situation. I thought that the Russians had attacked from all sides and what our army was doing now.

Then the door opened, several border guards were forced through it. Among them was the chief of the guard V. Lazdiņš (who fell in the winter of 1942), from his guard A. Polis, Abrickis and someone else. From the 3rd guard, guard Kraucis and a few others whose names I don't remember. The chief of the 4th guard, Sergeant Kancīts. 11 men in total. Since there were now several of us in the room, they also sent two Russian soldiers in to prevent us from talking. My mood improved greatly, because I was no longer alone. After about half an hour, about 30 local residents were forced into the room, among whom was also the owner of the Blont mill, Smukkalns, and his wife. Now several guards were also added. We were assigned to one end of the room, the private ones to the other, the guards walked in the middle and did not even allow us to whisper. Since there were no benches, everyone had to stand. I think if there were tables, then there were benches too, but they were removed with prior intention, we were kept in this room for several hours. It was late afternoon, I started to want to eat, so I started asking the guards for "bread". As if by miracle, they brought bread, a good slice for each of us, also a bucket of water and a cup, this was the first meal in captivity.

Before sunset we were moved on foot to a village 0.5 km away, where we saw some Russian privates. In the courtyard of the village, guards were placed around us in a platoon, all with bayonet-mounted rifles. Before dark, several heavy Russian army trucks with soldiers drove into the courtyard. Immediately, several men in leather jackets with blue hats arrived in a light car, who gave orders to the arrivals. The cars formed into a convoy, and we were ordered to get into the second car, four at a time. Immediately, a guard was placed in each corner of our cars, again with a bayonet-mounted rifle. A group of armed soldiers sat in the other cars. They brought shovels and threw two into each car. The men with blue hats gave the command to load the rifles and leave. It was dark, and a forest was visible ahead. At first we drove slowly, without lights. I wondered what to do in case of shooting, because the shovels thrown into the cars did not bode well. Strangely enough, there was no fear, because the morning's events had probably left some impression on my nerves. The journey continued slowly, also without lights. We drove through the forest, then I thought that they probably wouldn't shoot yet.

We entered the town of Ostrov in the dim light. The column was stopped on a street, and I noticed the “blue caps” again. Everyone was ordered to get out and driven into a courtyard with two-story wooden houses. We were shown an empty room downstairs, separate from the privates. In the barracks, interrogations took place at different times of the day, sometimes early in the morning or late in the evening. I was interrogated by a captain who started it in Latvian, but when a major entered the interrogation room, he switched to Russian. I told him that I didn’t understand much Russian, so I couldn’t answer the questions. I said: “If you started in Latvian, then you can continue in that way.” The interrogator didn’t answer, pushed the pistol that was on the table, looked at me and said, “I’ll talk!” Suddenly, a young man entered the interrogation room, to which my interrogator said something in a low voice, nodding his head at me. The young man began to interrogate me according to the captain's instructions, but in very weak Latvian. He asked about the tasks of the border guards, espionage, the composition of the army, armament, location, members of the government, the secret police, etc. I answered many questions with ignorance, said that it was not in our tasks, others were interrogated in this way as well. I saw a Russian sergeant with a bandaged hand. When I asked what was wrong with the hand, he replied that we had shot their junior lieutenant on the morning of the incident and wounded him. Maybe it was true, because it is likely that the guards Macītis and Timuška shot at the attackers, and I also fired several shots through the window. One had to wonder how good the Russians are at espionage. As an example, they mentioned a party where I was in a private suit. What was my purpose in hiding then? I replied that we could wear private suits during our free time. When I asked how he knew, he replied that he had been there too.

After three weeks, we were lined up, the border guards and privates were called out by name. The gate opened and we were ordered to get into heavy trucks that had arrived on the street. Suddenly, a window opened from the ground floor, from which a Russian from our line called out to Maslov, the owner of the village of Masļenki. The cars began to drive in the direction of Latvia. To Maslov's wife's protests about why her husband was not being allowed to drive, the leader of the column replied that everyone would be at the border at the same time, because after settling a few questions, they would take her to the border in a car, and everyone would be released free. When I arrived at the border, I saw Russians with machine guns hiding in the bushes. On the Latvian side, I saw a couple of groups of border guards with our battalion commander Jansons. I noted that the place where we were being released was the land border. The Russians ordered us to stand in a single line at the border. Then I threw the overcoat and rubber slippers they had given me on the Russian side. I wanted to return to Latvia as I was on the morning of the incident. Our column leader, a major, approached the border with a list in his hand, and our battalion commander stood opposite him, about 10 m from each other. The two officers saluted each other militarily, named their ranks and positions. The Russian major called out our names according to the list and ordered us to go across the border. On the Latvian side, we lined up again, and the battalion commander checked us according to the list. Since Maslov was missing, the battalion commander asked where he had been and why he had not been released. The Russian major replied that he knew nothing about such a person, because he had brought people who had been handed over to him. The Russian did not respond to our protest that Maslov had been called out from the ranks and kept. The battalion commander gave everyone a short speech, then ordered the civilians to go to the rear. Then he hugged each of us border guards, tears streaming down our cheeks, and said: "I have no words to say to you, but if God is in heaven, He will punish the murderers one day."

It is impossible to express in words how we felt at that moment. But I know one thing: we were ready to lay down our heads for our homeland, Latvia. The battalion commander also told us that the brigade commander, General Bolšteins, had covered himself with the Latvian flag at headquarters and shot himself, because he probably foresaw the fate of Latvia. The battalion commander straightened up, wiped away his tears with a handkerchief and said: “Boys, my soldiers, will fulfill their duties to the end, no matter what awaits us.” Then we drove to the 1st company headquarters, where food was waiting for us. The company commander was probably on a business trip at the time, because he was not there when we arrived. The battalion commander gave everyone 2 weeks of extraordinary leave, I was given 3 weeks, because I had to buy clothes, which had all burned down. In addition, the battalion commander promised me a promotion and a transfer to another place. I thanked the battalion commander for the offer, but I declined. The reason for the rejection was that I wanted to stay where my comrades fell.

A week later, the tailor had sewn a new uniform, and I went on vacation. In Riga, on Brīvības Street, I met my guard chief, Fr. Pūriņš. He was in a uniform without insignia (he had gone on vacation) with the Lāčplēsis Order on his chest. We hugged, tears in his eyes, he asked me for more details about the events, I told him how everything happened. I warned him not to openly wear the Lāčplēsis Order. He said that he had won the order in the fight for Latvia, and that he would die with this order on his chest, because his family had already been murdered. According to the news, Pūriņš was found mutilated and shot in the Central Prison. That was how this “lāčplēsis” family was destroyed. When I returned from vacation, I learned that in the meantime, battalion commander Jansons had been arrested. Captain Hollanders, commander of the 1st company, was temporarily in his place. I remained in the service until the brigade was liquidated – it was in October or November, I don’t remember. During the liquidation, all the company officers and several watch chiefs as well as the guards were arrested. I learned from the guard Ž. Krieviņš that his wife remained in his apartment, seriously wounded in the side, because hand grenades had been thrown through the window. He had also seen Pūriņš’s son Valdis, he was either dead or seriously wounded. Krieviņš himself had a slight wound to his forehead from a grenade fragment. The following fell: K. Beizaks, J. Macītis, Timuška, Pūriņš’s wife and son, Krieviņš and his wife were wounded.

Thus, with countless arrests, the border guard brigade was liquidated.