Lighthouse Trails Research Journal
32
“THIS BOOK IS MY LIFE!”
BY GEORGI VINS
soldiers kept kicking that old man. My
mind raced. Should I keep silent? Look
the other way? What about my Gospel?
Maybe I’d have a better chance to preserve
it if I said nothing.
he first half of my ten-year sentence was
But what would Jesus do in my place?
to end March 31, 1979. In late March, I
Would He be silent? Suddenly I spoke
was taken to the Yakutsk jail, where I spent
up. “What are you doing? Why are you
a week in constant expectation, wondering
beating him? He’s old enough to be your
where I would be sent for my exile.
grandfather! How can you treat someone
One evening, when all thirty prisoners
like that?”
in that jail were lined up in the corridor
My reaction was so unexpected that
for attendance, one of the officers recog-
even the guards were startled. Who was
nized me.
brazen enough to confront them? They
“What are you doing
stopped kicking the old man
here?” he asked.
and turned to me.
“My five years of camp
“Don’t you know the
are over, and I have five years
rules?” one of them yelled.
of exile ahead of me. Do you
“Nobody’s bothering you!”
know where they’re sending
By now, the old man had
me?”
his boots off and was standing,
He looked through my
but the soldiers had lost inter-
file. “Yes,” he said. “You will
est in him. “Get dressed!” they
be near Tyumen in western
commanded.
Siberia.”
One of them turned back to
Late that evening we were
me. “Step up. Mr. Defender.
loaded onto a police van and
Now it’s your turn! We could
taken to the airport. A small
put ‘bracelets’ on you, you
plane was waiting for us and
know,” he threatened.
the guards. All prisoners were
The old man was taken
handcuffed. Each time the
back to his cage. I stripped
cold steel pinched my wrists,
quickly. One guard checked
joy burst upon my heart: not Prison in Irkutsk, Eastern Siberia (Library of Congress: public domain) my clothing while the other
for a crime or for any evildoing
went through everything in my
but for Christ my beloved Savior
old man. He started to strip. He tried to bag. There he found a little box. He
I found myself in these bonds again!
hurry but his hands trembled too badly. opened it. Inside was the tiny Gospel.
The propellers whirled as the engines The soldiers yelled at him to move faster,
“What’s this?” he asked with a sneer.
revved up. The plane left the runway and which only made the old man more ner-
“It’s the Gospel of Mark,” I answered.
headed south. Three hours later, we landed vous. A soldier struck him with his fist.
He started looking through it and
in Irkutsk. Then it was back to a police With a cry of pain, the old man slumped then showed it to the other guard. “This
van, the prison, and searches. Through it to the floor. There, with his shaky hands, is forbidden!” he announced and tossed it
all the Lord continued to preserve my little he tried again to pull off his boots. Two onto a pile of trash.
Gospel of Mark.
young soldiers kicked him.
I immediately took the Gospel out of
I spent several days in the prison at Ir-
Being next in line, I saw everything. the garbage. “Throw it back!” shouted the
kutsk waiting to continue my journey. The But what could I do? By Soviet law, I had soldier, his face flushed with rage.
men I had been traveling with had already no right to contradict a guard or even
“No!” I clutched it tightly in my palm.
been shipped to other prisons.
speak up for another prisoner. The young
Concludes on page 11
A few days later, I boarded a Stolypin
Volume 5—No. 6
November/December 2017
(Pastor Vins spent eight years in Soviet prison
camps for preaching the Gospel. The following
account took place during one of his prison terms.)
T
train car with other prisoners from Ir-
kutsk. The Stolypin was like a miniature
prison on wheels. It had about eight cells
with wire mesh walls. Each cage was built
to hold eight prisoners, but as many as
twenty-five men were crammed into the
compartments. Armed soldiers stood
guard in the corridor.
Although we had been searched before
boarding the train, we went through it
again. As soon as the train was in motion,
we were called out, three to five at a time,
to wait in the corridor to be searched.
Just ahead of me stood a small, frail