From Russia to Paraguay

Today, as we remember those who gave their lives for our freedom, I also think of my great-grandparents and their families, who fled communist rule in order to allow future generations to have a better life.

In the years between 1922 and 1927 about 21,000 Mennonites left Russia for North America, quite easily acquiring the documents to do so, but after that, under the rule of Stalin, it was nearly an impossibility. Even so, people of varied faiths moved to Moscow in hopes of getting closer to that possibility. Of the 15,000 people who gathered there about 10,000 were sent away in cattle wagons and trains, many never to be heard from again. Finally, in November 1929, after a lot of negotiations, Germany gave permission for all those who were left waiting in Moscow to come.

The Mennonite refugees spent months in military camps, waiting for a country to take them in. Humanitarian Aid Agencies such as the Red Cross, Brothers in Need and M.C.C. cared for them and supplied them with tools and very basic equipment necessary to begin a new life. My great-uncle tells of how they continued to have church services, Sunday School, and young people getting together to sing, even as they waited. They tried to continue with life, children being schooled, each being in charge of certain chores. Canada was an option for those who were healthy, but since many refugees had developed an eye disease (trachoma), they and their families had to opt for another place. Paraguay was chosen by many because they were promised freedom of religion, self-government and military exemption.

In March 1930 the first ocean transport left Germany, followed by six more that spring and summer. It was at least a three week long trip across the Atlantic to Buenos Aires and then a large river boat took them along several rivers to Paraguay. At the end they took a twelve hour (slow) train ride, followed by several days on ox-drawn wagons to the place that M.C.C. had assigned to them in the Chaco, described as “a bare steppe with tall bitter grass which no animal ate.” In this isolated area, with tropical heat, bugs and snakes, our great-grandparents and grandparents were dropped off to begin a life out of nothing.


The photo is of my grandmother's family on the last leg of the journey into the Chaco. The boat captain had given them the mattresses from the boat.
My grandmother was sixteen years old. Her brother, whose written documentation I am using, was twelve when they came to the Chaco. An older brother had already made his own camera in Russia, thus being able to document some of their experiences in this way. I've been told that his camera is on display at the Mennonite Museum in Filadelfia, Paraguay.