The Horse Adjutant saw it, the bridge was being guarded, and no one was allowed to leave during the day. But that would also mean the guards would be thin outside of this area, and he would have to try to cross at night, away from the bridge. So, he went about 200 meters be- yond the bridge and passed through with two of his friends. Immediately, the Russian police stopped them, and without hesitation, Max reached into his pocket and pulled out a few of the small stones offering the policeman a bribe. He took it and said, “Go. Get the hell out of here.” Again, Max was safely in Russia. His sister never got to cross with her boyfriend and, therefore, did not survive. Max went right back to Lwów. This time he made even more money selling the small, but valuable stones, maybe 700 or 800 Zloty. No one asked questions; they just wanted the stones. A few months later, Max was preparing to come back to Grybow again. He was running out of money and was beginning to get very concerned with his own family’s safety. He wanted to try one more time to take them to Russia before it was too late. So again, he readied himself for the trip back. This time he would be traveling in freez- ing cold weather. He wrapped himself up tightly and found a spot by the river where he would cross. He looked around to make sure he wasn’t being watched and began to cross the border. As he started he heard shouts, “Stop, don’t move.” The Russians arrested Max. He knew this was not going to be good. He had no more stones to try and bribe the guards. They took him to jail, where he was convicted in a kangaroo court run by the Soviet Russian Police. The proceeding took all of five min- utes. As the judge delivered the sentence, it hung heavy upon his shoulders: Five years hard labor in the gulag. The gulag was the Russian forced-labor system. It was a frozen frontier wasteland that might as well be the moon. Within a few days, he was placed on a train and whisked off to parts unknown (Archangels). The train ride was long, but finally, it stopped. It could not go any further. It was the end of the tracks. When he got out of the car, there was nothing, no train station, no buildings, nothing. The prisoners were formed into a line and they started to walk, and walk. Days later they reached their destination. It was an area marked with red flags around a field, no barracks, no tents, nothing, just a field. Once they arrived, they were assembled and told to dig a hole. This cave became home for all the men. In the morning they began to build a road with nothing but hand tools. This is what they did every day, the same thing over and over. It would be five long years of backbreaking work. By the time his sentence was over, the war would also be over, and as unbelievable as it might sound, prison may have saved his life. As soon as Max returned to Lwów, he joined the Russian Army. Being a soldier would
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