Wow. What an amazing story. Thank God for your grandfather. I hope you have found some way to preserve what you know for future generations. I grew up knowing that if we do not learn the lessons history tries to teach us, we will be doomed to repeat many of the same mistakes.

I have managed to track down ship manifestos and some other documents of my family making their way here. Like many people that escaped trouble in previous generations, they just didn't talk about it. It was a different generation that basically saw no need to recall the past. It was better to move on with life and leave the unpleasant past behind. For some reason they would tell me their stories and I found out things that other family members were never were aware of. Maybe it was because I was the only one that was genuinely interested in what they had to say - who knows.

My great-aunt especially. She was 14 when they left Russia and could still remember a great deal about the rumblings before the Communist revolution. They had to pay a lot of money to get out of Russia and on to the US. Everyone wanted their palms greased. My great grandfather had to pay someone on the ship coming over because they were not going to give my great grandmother entry due to medical. She had bad eyes. My great grandfather had basically told them all that if one could not get in, none of them would. Thank God for greedy people.

I see many of the same events my relatives spoke of taking place now. I remember my auntie telling me about how they started taking over the banks and confiscating guns - all for the common good of course. My grandfather also remembered the gun confiscations and that is when he decided to get out. With his mother, he managed to get to Canada and then into the US using his brother's papers. His father died a couple of years prior and my grandfather at the time was a teenager. He was a snowback illegally crossing the Northern border.

The ones from the old country are all gone now. Oh how I wish I could have had more time with them. Our visits were sporadic and only when they would come to stay with my family every few years. However, I did make the most out of the time we did have together, and for that, I am grateful. Unfortunately, this was at a time when video recording conversations was not practical. I have since video taped many family conversations when the elders have gotten together and are reminiscing about the home town, family, and other information that will go with them when they pass. These are the recordings of the first American born generation of my mother. There were many nights I would have preferred to go to bed because of work the next morning. But I persevered in order to capture the yacking till the wee hours of the morning. I am so glad I did. Not long after one of these video sessions, two of my uncles passed. Of 6, I only have one left. Thank God my mother and her 3 sisters are still with us. They are a hoot when they are together - like sisters should be.

Many years ago I was privileged to be involved in recording some of the war experiences of WW2 vets - mostly from the Pacific theatre. The stories ranged from the attack on Pearl, Corregidor, the Bataan Death March, and Japanese POWs. The stories at times were horrific. In some small way, I think the process of telling their stories was a cleansing for many of these brave men and women that had been carrying these experiences in silence. Stories that are normally only recounted and shared with comrades with similar experiences - which for many was a rare occurrence, especially as they aged. Some of the worst stories I heard were those accounts of POWs held by the Japanese.

I remember a couple of vets telling us about the tragedy of being so close, but yet so far. They recalled that near the end of the war, the Japanese placed POWs into ships to be relocated to other camps - they were slave labor. The war was close to being over and everyone knew it. The conditions in those hulls were unimaginable. The Japanese saw no need to waste valuable resources, like food and water, on POWs. To add insult to injury, while in the hulls of these ships, the Allies were bombing the crap out of them unaware that their brothers in arms were prisoners in those ships. I don't recall how many of those ships went down with our boys in them. They were so close to being freed.

I had a good friend who's father was captured in Bataan after leaving Corregidor. He was part of the infamous Bataan march. He had a large scar starting at his ear that tracked down his neck almost to his collar bone, inflicted from a Japanese sword. The Japanese did not want to waste bullets. Killing those that fell along the way was more economical with a sword. It was amazing that my friend's father survived to tell his story after spending almost the entire Pacific war as guest of the Japanese Imperial Military. The other amazing part of his testimony was that according to his family, they had never heard him tell any of his story before the day he told it to me. He just never talked about it. I guess he figured that it was time when he almost died because of a malaria relapse - malaria that he contracted while as a POW in the Philippines.

When I worked at the VAMC, I had many WW2 vets as patients that would tell me their stories. Some funny, some sad, some terrifying. One that has stuck in my mind all these years was about an Army infantryman that had been captured by the Germans towards the end of the war in Europe. He was interned somewhere in France. After several months, he and his camp buddy decided to escape and try to make it to the Allied lines. They spent several days wandering in the French countryside - not sure of exactly where they were, or which way they should go because they didn't know where the German's were located. Finally their hunger drove them to take a chance and knock on the door of a small French cottage and ask for some food. It looked inviting enough and the smell of food cooking was more than they could resist. What a surprise when it was German soldiers that answered the door instead of some little French babushka. By the end of the war, soldiers on both sides just wanted it to end and had lost their appetite for non combat killing - otherwise, no doubt these two would have been shot. But instead, they were returned to the prison camp to wait out the end of the war - but only after they were fed a meal and had a few drinks with the German soldiers.

I am so glad we video taped many of the accounts because most of these vets are now gone - and their experiences with them. They told the real story of war - not the glamorized picture propaganda paints. I have several external hard drives where I store information that I know may get redacted or altered in the future by those wanting to spin a different picture. I also have many books - some written decades ago. Books are a rarity in this age of digital everything.

Like you, I am concerned that this great country is ready to repeat a big mistake of history - communism/fascism. My family too risked and gave up a great deal to come here. They must be turning in their graves to see what the country they gave up so much for has become and is on the verge of becoming. Like you said, we must stop this, not for our sakes, but for future generations of Americans.

I will repeat my fren. Don't stop telling your story. People need to know the horrors of communism from someone who lived it. Thanks again.