During his travels among the villages in the southern province of Siberia, my father, then still a young man, preached in a small village north of Tomsk. There he met a preacher whose living faith also compelled him to go from one settlement to another, carrying the message of salvation to the people. They became good friends, for they shared common goals and a burning desire to preach the Gospel.
This man, Mr. Kazakov, had a wife and two sons, and he invited the young man to his home. They lived in the city of Tomsk, located approximately seventy-five kilometers south of the settlement where they had met. The young preacher spent two weeks with Mr. Kazakov and his family in their house. He greatly admired the family's deep commitment and devotion to serving God. Later he learned that Kazakov had been a very wealthy Russian explorer who had accepted Christ as his personal Savior and had completely dedicated his life to preaching the Gospel. His wife and sons steadfastly supported him in this. He left his work as an explorer and began spreading the Gospel of the Evangel throughout Siberia and in other parts of Russia.
After their meeting, they traveled together through the southern province of Siberia and southern Russia. Many times they were arrested and thrown in prison, and each time they escaped with the help of believers.
They became very well-known preachers among the people. But the Communists also knew that my father and Mr. Kazakov spoke against communism, and they began to hunt them, to catch them and silence them by any means. Somehow, with God's help and the help of church members in the small villages where they preached, they managed to stay one step ahead of the Communists in their journey through the settlements. They continued crossing the country, heading northwest and deeper into the Siberian taiga. The preachers tried to avoid encounters with Communists by learning about places where they were not present.
Kazakov was older and more experienced as a Christian when it came to dealing with Communists. He told my father that he had a premonition that something serious would happen in the country. "I have become afraid for my family, and therefore I decided to send them away from here. I have thought about this for a very long time; it would be very dangerous for them to stay here, and I sent them to Los Angeles, California, in America. There I have close friends who will help my family. My wife and children will be safe there. I have already made all the necessary arrangements for them to be met in Los Angeles; they will be there this very week. About four weeks have passed since they left. Now I am at peace; the Communists cannot harm my family in America. There they are out of reach, and I can continue to preach the Gospel without worrying about them."
The friends continued to carry the Gospel throughout the provinces of Siberia and southern Russia, where Communist persecution grew stronger and stronger. For a time they managed to stay ahead of the Communists, but one Sunday morning they were finally captured as they were leaving a service in one of the villages. The Communists told the church members that they had doubts about some aspects of these men's activities. After they clarified a few things, they would release them. They wanted to know who had encouraged the young man and Mr. Kazakov to preach against communism and who was paying for their upkeep and travel expenses. However, the preachers understood that they would be thrown in prison or even killed for preaching God's Word.
The Communists were convinced that communism was the true god. There was no other god besides communism. They thought: "How can Christians spread preaching about a God who is not visible and probably does not exist, except in an imaginary, fairy-tale world? Everyone knows about communism and accepts its ideas as truth. Why are these people so different from everyone else? Why do they not want to support our ideas? Communism is a bright future for all people. How can they not understand this?"
The young preacher told them that no one was paying them anything, and that they were servants of God and preached the Bible to the people as God had commanded them. But they did not believe him. They said they had to take them to their headquarters in the next village and question them in more detail. With these words they were placed in a cart with two armed soldiers, and they set off. One soldier managed the horses, while the other guarded the preachers.
The young preacher knew this area well, and he also knew that there was no headquarters in the next village. They both understood that the soldiers were lying to them. They had been there very recently. Moreover, the village they were talking about was in a different direction, and they were moving away from the road that led to the village, not toward it.
The soldiers were taking them to the most remote region of the Siberian taiga. They were moving deeper and deeper into the dark forest, heading west and somewhat north. One of the soldiers let slip that they were going to take them to a special prison. When the time came, they would send them from there to headquarters, where they would be interrogated. The young preacher knew this was a lie. There were no prisons in this part of the country; there was nothing but taiga.
As they continued down the road, one of the soldiers remarked that no one had ever escaped from that prison. The prisoners immediately understood that they were going to be shot and left far in the forest, where no one would find them. After their execution, they would be thrown into the taiga, where wild animals would tear their bodies to pieces and leave no trace of them. No one would ever know what had happened to them. The Communists, as usual, would say that they had been interrogated at headquarters and then released, and that they were now preaching in a neighboring village. In this way, no one would suspect the Communists, and no one would search for them.
Sitting behind the soldiers, the prisoners looked at each other. Without warning, they jumped up and sharply pushed the soldiers forward and down from the cart with the galloping horses. The soldiers instantly found themselves hanging upside down and firmly held by the horses' reins. Desperately clinging and struggling to hold on, they dangled almost above the ground between the wheels and the hind hooves of the galloping horses. The soldiers struggled with all their might to pull themselves up and climb back into the cart so as not to be trampled by the horses' hooves and crushed by the wheels. Before the soldiers could do anything, the friends jumped from the cart and ran as fast as they could toward the dense forest that was near the road. Finally the soldiers managed to pull themselves up and climb into the cart. They grabbed their rifles and began shooting at the fleeing preachers. But the latter, heedless of the path, desperately ran toward the forest to get as far away as possible from the soldiers who were shooting at them. The whistle of bullets flying very close spurred on the fugitives. Trying to hide in the dense forest, they ran with all their might. They knew that if they could make it to the forest, they would be safe.
The sun was setting very quickly. Darkness hung like a heavy cloud, slowly descending upon the forest. But it was not yet dark enough to hide from the pursuing soldiers. The fugitives were still in danger of being killed. The soldiers tried to catch up with them, firing as they ran. The preachers ran with their last strength, trying to reach the shelter of the forest and the saving darkness that would cover them. There they would find refuge and salvation. The trees were getting closer, and bullets continued to whistle around the fugitives. Regardless of the sound of gunfire, they continued their desperate flight. Soon they ran into the forest. Jumping over broken branches and old logs, they stumbled, fell, got up, and ran on as fast as they could. The shooting continued, giving them no respite.
Kazakov suddenly stumbled and fell hard on his face. He lay still, and blood spurted from a wound on his head. One of the bullets had struck him right in the back of the head. The young preacher immediately ran to him and dropped to his knees beside him, and suddenly realized with horror that his friend was dead. A heavy groan tore from his chest. Knowing there was nothing more he could do for him, he quickly got up and ran, covering his head with his hands to try to protect himself from the bullets. Darkness finally fell completely, and it became difficult to see anything around him. He realized that the soldiers had lost sight of him and were somewhere behind. The forest was so dark that he could barely see his outstretched hand in front of him. He thanked God for this timely darkness that had covered him. Although he knew that the soldiers would not chase him through the forest at night, he continued running anyway. He no longer heard gunfire, and bullets were not flying around his head. Nevertheless, he tirelessly made his way deeper into the heart of the forest, wishing to get as far away as possible from the soldiers while he had the chance.
He was very thirsty, and he was quite exhausted. His heart was pounding wildly, and his lungs seemed ready to burst from the strain. He understood that, despite his complete exhaustion, he needed to continue deeper into the forest. If he was found, he would be killed. Desperately struggling for his life, he continued moving through the dark forest. Finally, he came to complete exhaustion and collapsed to the ground. He lay there, gasping, still trying to peer into the darkness of the forest. Not far from him, the silhouette of a large tree stood out in the black. He decided to crawl over and lean against it, to blend in with it and catch his breath. Around him was complete silence—not a sound. He was so exhausted that he did not notice as he fell asleep sitting up, leaning against the tree. It was already dawning when he opened his eyes, and morning was approaching.
