Replies

You mean like:-

In "Kurapaty - the road of death"written by Zianon Pazniak and Yauhen Shmyhalou comes the following statement:-

" Mikola Vasiljevic Karpovic was born in 1919. He is a portly man, and still fairly strong. In 1939 he went into the army. Fate tossed him around the world and on to several fronts. In 1937-38, on several occasions he had seen how they killed people in the forest.

"The graves, it seemed, were dug in the first half of the day, because in the late afternoon (sometimes after lunch), when the trucks started to roll up, the graves had already been dug. Karpovic told us that the people were shot in batches.

They were stood in a line, and each of them had a gag put in his mouth and tied round with a rag so that he could not spit it out. The executioners wore NKVD uniforms. They fired their rifles from the side, into the head of the end person, so that the bullet went through two people. - "As soon as they shot," - Mikola Vasilijevic says, - "two people immediately fell into the pit.

" They didn't want to waste cartridges. When they had shot one batch, they threw a bit of earth on top of the heap of bodies, smoothed it over, so that it was all level, and brought up the next batch. When they had shot the grave quite full, they shoveled sand on top, and smoothed it over."

"Once," - Karpovic says, - "a guard from Malinauka (a village some 4 km away - Author) met me. He was in a state of nerves, disturbed. - "They've packed them in already," - he said, - "come and see. They haven't filled in!" We went to the fence, which was near the road. Close by, in a hollow, there was a great wide pit, filled to the top with corpses. They lay there, brother, in a row, like piglets."

"Did anyone ever manage to get away from here?" - I ask. - "Where could they get away to, there's that fence!" - Mikola Vasilijevic replies.

"True, once in the late afternoon, when the light was already fading, I was on my way through the forest from Zialony Luh to Cna with one of our people. It was horrible. Suddenly they stopped shooting. And we saw a man sitting under a tree, with his shirt soaked in blood, barely alive.

We came up to him - what to do? Suddenly the rumble of a truck. We jumped aside, we went on. 'There were two NKVD men in front of us. - "Who are you?", - they asked (in Russian) - "People from Cna!" - "You haven't seen anyone, have you?" - "No - we-ell, there was some chap sitting over there..." - the old man quavered. Then they spotted him and dragged him away by the feet. They threw him into the truck, like a log, and drove off. But how he ever managed to get out of there, I still can't imagine to this very day!"

As the authors say "A special topic is that of forgiveness and punishment. Let the reader think this out for himself.

We feel that there is no forgiveness for genocide. For those who carried out such deeds, there can be no Statute of Limitations.

When you find yourself in a deep, cold, three- meter pit, carpeted with corpses, and take in your hand the slimy sole from a woman's shoe, small-fitting, not more than size 34, you understand this beyond any doubt."

You may however,be better informed on such minor details.