So I made a suggestion. In as much as I had crossed the border twice and knew the way pretty well, I suggested that we go on our own without any guide or assistance. We explained this to our man who was very nice about it and said that if we wanted to take the risk it was up to us.
However, there was little choice so we decided. We paid him for my first trip and had a little money left. Through some black market dealer we managed to get a loaf of black bread and with nothing else but the clothes on our backs, we started out. Nelka wore a sisters uniform black dress, a heavy cloth coat, a fur cap and black leather high boots—like riding boots. I wore a military field uniform without insignia, like most of all the population wore at that time. While adequate, none of this was too warm for long stays in the cold, but we had nothing else. It was the end of December.
Early in the morning we took a train in the direction of the Finnish border. Trains ran as far as the border, but we got off two stations earlier, at the same one I used the first time. From that station we proceeded on foot down a country road towards a village I knew some five miles away. We reached there in the early afternoon and stopped at a hut where I also had been on my first trip. The peasant woman gave us some soup and we were resting and warming up, when suddenly a bunch of red soldiers entered the yard. The woman whisked us quickly into an empty room in the back of the house and told us to remain quiet. We could hear the men come in and ask her if she had seen any refugees around. (It is to be noted that there were constantly people trying to escape all along the border and the Reds were always searching them out. At one time as many as 100 to 150 were getting over the border daily. All along the border within five miles people were shot on sight.)
We heard the woman say she had seen no one. One of the men asked about her house and asked what was in that room, meaning the one we were in. The woman answered, "Oh, I keep my chicken there." The men did not insist and left. It was a close call. After the men left, the woman suggested that we better leave too, for it was too risky for her to have us there. We got by once, but it might not happen again so we also decided that we better leave. The soldiers had gone in the direction of the station, and, as we were to continue further, we got out on to the road and started for the next village, a distance of nearly seven miles through the woods. I also knew that village and some of the peasants. From there the path through the woods led to the Finnish border, some five miles away.
It was getting late and was not a good time to be out at dark for at night the Reds put out patrols. I hoped however to reach the village before nightfall and so we hurried along. The road was well rolled down—the going was not hard and we made good time.
It was just getting dark but a moon was coming up when we reached the village. The first hut was the one I had been to before and I knew the peasants there, who were some of the peasants working for our man. We entered and a woman rushed up to us crying and urging us to get out. She was weeping and finally managed to explain that her husband had just been arrested by the Reds and taken away on suspicion that he was helping the refugees. She practically pushed us out of the house.
So here we were, out on the road facing a dilemma. Any moment now the night Red patrol would be out on the road. Another one would be out at the village we came from. Before us lay the path towards the Finnish border, but it crossed a wide field before entering the woods. I knew the way well but with the full moon out you could see a great distance, like in the day, on the bright snow and I was afraid to be spotted crossing that field.
I told Nelka I was afraid to risk this trip towards the border as it was so light. But we had little choice, for the patrols would be out any minute now and we could not remain on the road. With no other choice left we retreated into the woods, off the road and settled under some thick pine trees for the night, right in the snow. It was Xmas eve.
We survived the night and even slept a little. It was also evident that Nelka was developing some kind of flu and was running a temperature. I used to joke that she melted the snow around us because of that. Luckily there was no wind. The snow was deep and we dug out a hollow. The temperature was probably about ten or fifteen above. Remember we had no covers—just our clothes. We ate some of our remaining black bread. We were tired from so much walking and so we slept.
By morning it was obvious that Nelka was ill and had a temperature. We had to act quick and invent something, so we went back to the village and I entered the same hut again. The woman had quieted down and did not push us out. We also found there another couple who turned out to be an officer with his wife trying to get out as we did, so we decided to stick together. The woman suggested that we go by sleigh to the next village and try to cross from there. So we hired a sleigh and started out—this time the four of us with the driver. It was now fairly safe to move along the roads by day with the night patrols off.