General Ioan Arbore “was of a rare modesty” and “believed with all his warmth in God”

In front of me, three ghosts sat on their stools under the window, staring at me. Behind me, the door closed with a creak. I can’t remember how I looked, but the three of them looked at me as if I were something else. It was as if I came from another world, yellow, yellow in the face, like saffron. The first one on the left came over and introduced himself – Nicolae Mareș, former Minister of Agriculture under Antonescu.

He was a railway engineer. The second one stands up and introduces himself – Ioan Arbore, general, former Minister of Economy under Antonescu. Before Iacobici, he was Chief of the General Staff. The third one also comes to me and introduces himself as Turcu Nicolae, a high school student, wasted and weak as hell. The three of them were inmates of cell 309 of the infamous Aiud cell. I came too, another wretch, to make the number four. I could barely fit on the rack. I was placed between General Arbore and Turcu. […]

I understood a lot from General Ion Arbore’s stories. He was the son of a priest, and his behaviour showed it. He prayed all the time in his cell. He looked at the world around him with compassion and love. He looked after those of us who were close to him as if we were children. Each of us in turn told the story of our past, with all its shortcomings and misfortunes.

General Arbore spent his childhood in Dobrogea, near the Delta, in Sarinasuf, where his father was a priest. He also had a brother, a Romanian language teacher in Focșani.

He told us a lot about him, with good and beautiful things. He had a large and thorough library of more than 10,000 volumes. He was a man of great sensibility. Unlike almost all those with whom he worked outside, in great state positions, he was of a rare modesty. He believed in God with all his heart.

He died in Jilava taking care of the sick. He washed their dirty clothes and prayed to Christ. I don’t know what he was like in freedom, but here in prison he found God. He was a man of great morality. I never heard him gossip. Whenever Nicolae Mareș got away with bad-mouthing someone, he would tell them:

– Hey, Nicolae, don’t talk sinfully about people, because only God knows what was in their souls when they were wrong. We were no better.

He often told us about his childhood and how he managed to get through life. He worked his way through his career as an officer, from second lieutenant to general, on his own, without any outside help. […]

Every day, General Arbore prayed with great warmth, sitting on the prici in his place. Serenely he received everything that came his way. I never heard him complain. Like Job, he thanked God for everything that happened. One day the door opened and an officer told me to pack my things and get out. I said goodbye to General Arbore and Nedelcu and walked out. General Arbore wished me luck. I haven’t seen him since. I was to learn that he had died in Jilava, caring for the sick. God rest his soul, he was a great Romanian and a good Christian. […]

I kept thinking of General Arbore, whom I had left in his cell, so weak that he could hardly hold his breath. I would look up from the factory yard and see the corner of the cell where I knew I had left Arbore. His soft voice and his love for people made him a true father. After I had found a certain comfort, I often thought of him, still sleeping on the prici, with a fern mat and a blanket, old as time, gnawed and perforated.

(Atanasie Berzescu – Tears and Blood. Armed Anti-Communist Resistance in the Banat Mountains, Marineasa Publishing House, Timișoara, 1999, pp. 131, 137-138, 141, 144).