the knife falling on the condemned's neck and, after the head fell into the pit, one could hear: "Oh, to have it over with. … Lord, forgive and receive me." … Here, too, were brought people who had gone through hell fire. Not only women, but men were seen with flesh hacked and torn, hanging in shreds.
Without a word, two men came over to me, tore off my clothes, and put me at the rear of the line. In front of me were from one hundred and fifty to two hundred people. This meant that my turn would come in about forty minutes, or an hour at the most. They "worked" very rapidly. The head would fall into the pit of itself and the corpse followed it into another pit nearby. The pit for the heads had been dug behind the stump. … Standing in line, and also moving forwrad mechanically, I bade farewell in my thoughts to my wife and relatives, and prayed and prepared to meet my murdered babies. I had come quite near the stump … when looking behind me, I saw that I was no longer the last. There were more people behind me. Suddenly I heard an exclamation: "Dudikoff is here! Why were you in such a hurry to bring him? His case has not yet been disposed of. Take him back." A shudder ran through my frame. I was prepared to die. … I had made peace with the thought that the knife, which was ascending and descending, held salvation for me from all further tortures—The knife meant the end! No longer would I see, hear, or suffer agony. Now, suddenly, the tortures loomed up before me.—I was to go through the ordeal all over again.
Naked as I was, I was taken out of the line, to the fence. There a strong, tall man insisted: "You stole the money and handed it over to your brother." "No," I replied, "I did not." "You are a counter-revolutionary." "No," I replied again. "You are a spy of Skoropadsky and Petlura." "No." With a strong hand he took hold of me and clutched my back with tongs. I felt a horrible pain, something burning into me, and fell senseless. When I came to, I was again living on the floor of my prison cell, which was dyed red with my blood, and my back was burning as if on fire. The strong man had not only pinched my back with his tongs, but had torn out a piece of my flesh. That was why I suffered such intense agony and that was responsible for the blood on the floor. For a whole week they left me in peace but they refused to give me any clothes. The water they brought me I would not drink, despite my terrible thirst. I dipped my fingers into it and then put them to my mouth to quench the thirst, and used the water to wash my wound.
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