As I watch the columns of cold, hapless refugees move into Poland, my soul recoils. These pictures allow memories, long repressed to rise in my consciousness. I see a mother with two toddlers, the picture of my own mother twenty-four-years old, holding my sister in her arms while hanging on to me, her four-year-old. History repeats itself—again. The Ukrainians are fleeing the same country’s army, only the leader’s names differ. Then, it was Stalin, now it is Putin. The only difference, Stalin had a reason to invade. Putin does not.
But I want to speak about the refugees and their plight. The dreadful reality of their lives for the next months is painful to describe. I know, because when we fled the Russian onslaught, the conditions we had to endure remained with me for many years. The psychological toll on refugees cannot be measured, as people have different psychological strength. Although only four-years-old, I remember many things—others I repressed. I know that my mother forgot none of the terrifying encounters we had in the months after we left our home and she filled the gaps in my memory as I got older. Refugees become shell-shocked, like soldiers under bombardment. Finally safe, it takes only two to three days when the food one can carry in a bag runs out. Mothers endure the worst pressures. The immediate demand for milk, diapers and food consumes their every waking moment.
The psychological impact of displacement, losing one’s home and seeking shelter in make-shift camps leaves scars on the soul, so deep, that I was compelled to write about my family’s exodus in my book, A Harsh Wind Blows from the East. Through this confession, my nightmare abated. Yet, here we are again. The following is a small excerpt from my book that describes the overwhelming sense of helplessness people feel when fleeing an invader.
Loaded with our baggage, it took us a long time to reach the train station. Inside, the main hall resembled a madhouse. Milling and shoving crowds, pushing mountains of baggage, created a maelstrom, blocking the access to the departure platforms. The few officials in attendance were overwhelmed by the frantic populace seeking an escape. Indeed, no one even knew if there would be a train arriving to carry people to safety. My mother, with the two of us clinging wide-eyed to her, stood overwhelmed and helpless in the middle of the human whirlpool. She despaired of ever reaching the departure platforms. Anxiously searching the crowd for a familiar face, she did the only thing she knew to do—she prayed.
Knowing that all this suffering, the destruction of their homes, the loss of life and the exodus of the Ukrainian population was entirely preventable, infuriates thinking people. The rumblings of war were heard, at least, two years ago. And yet, because of expediency, avarice and dreadful politics we see the disaster unfolding. The most recent warning to the world was the Biden administration’s handling of the Afghan crisis. The incompetent, cruel way our relationship with the Afghan country was dissolved sent signals to Russia and China to advance their expansion goals, and most analysts wager that Taiwan will be next.
I was born into a war created by two psychopathic rulers, Hitler and Stalin, and lived with the consequences of their grandiose ambitions most of my life. I am saddened, distressed and afraid of what the future holds for my family and future generations. America has never experienced war on their part of the continent. However, America shows weakness and moral decay to our enemies. Our martial arsenal is depleted, shortened by attrition and cuts in spending, while China has built an arsenal par excellence. So, this time in history, our enemies have the means to hurt us from afar, and destroy us from within, for they are already helped by the traitors among us.