In short – I was a real statesman.
The civil war.
I took part. Shrapnel flying, me hiding… I survived the heavy burden of the Civil War. Standing in queues for rations, carting firewood by sled, digging gardens. The hardest part of it all was carrying the thirty-five kilograms of flour from the Lavra all the way to Hohol Street in Kyiv. I lugged it along the ‘Dog Trail’, then up Shevchenko Boulevard. Moaning and groaning and stopping and squatting. But I got it there. I didn’t abandon the ‘products of the revolution’.
It was hard, but ‘we won’.
Well, and then a ‘platform’ rolled up and I was placed upon it.
Then I was freed, but I wasn’t stupid, I didn’t get off the ‘platform’.
The book which made the greatest impression on me was Filaret’s Catechism. What a disgusting book! If I co
