Physical and moral pressures since 1942

The FDC activists from Vaslui, the workers from Ișalnița and others, who had been sent to various prisons throughout the country, were brought to Aiud in the autumn of 1942. Major Munteanu had to carry out the work of “re-education”, through moral and physical pressure, in order to make the legionaries either distance themselves from the ideal of the legionary struggle, which was an act of moral compromise, or ask to be sent to the front for rehabilitation, which meant admitting their guilt to Antonescu in the act of 21 January 1941, an act of compromise of the legionary movement.

Those who refused faced starvation, physical torture and death.

The Legionaries organised their life in prison in such a way that the Brotherhoods in particular lived a life of prayer, moral dignity, fairness and dignified and respectful behaviour towards the law enforcement authorities, unity and resistance in the face of the regime’s pressure.

This attitude was in fact spontaneous and natural, stemming from an inner conviction about the Christian discipline and dignity of the Legionaries. Major Munteanu isolated the Legionnaires from the rest of the prisoners; those sentenced to long terms of imprisonment (15-25 years hard labour and life hard labour) and the leaders in general, he gathered them on the top floor, so that the others, left without mentors and seduced by promises, would fall, making them elements of the spiritual decomposition of the Legionnaires. But the Legionnaires did not necessarily need to be watched, controlled, censored, guided or held in check by anyone, each one knew his duty, even if he remained the only Legionnaire on the face of the earth. There were also casualties, for there is the heroism of the moment and the heroism of the enduring.

At the beginning of March 1943, a harsh regime was introduced: solitary confinement, strict surveillance, harsher food, random walks, five paces apart, head down, shutters on the windows and isolation in the punishment rooms in the cellar or in the barracks, corporal punishment (blows on the buttocks with a leather belt) for “insults” to the guard.

I was on the short side of the T (facing the street) in the corner cell, next to the guard’s office on the top floor. No books were allowed except the Holy Scriptures. (Until then we could get any book from home or take it from the prison library, except those with political content). Now we had to put our hope in God alone, for nothing worldly could help us in the face of evil.

The guards were not ‘trained’ to oppress political prisoners, as the Communists were later to do. Many of them, with their respectful behaviour, were more officers of internal order than fiddlers, blind executors of orders received. The servants betrayed their masters, aware of their folly. They often prevented and covered us in order to satisfy certain spiritual needs. Not all the books were handed over. Written notebooks, diaries, poems, press, translations, went from cell to cell in the hands of the guards. Some notebooks taken to the censorship office were stamped “censored” by the Aiud prison and placed in the luggage of the prisoner to whom they belonged. In this way, two of my notebooks, which I had sent home when I worked in the Galda colony, escaped. Pencils, unwritten paper, could be hidden under the floorboards, on window sills and door jambs.

From the beginning, intimidation forced the legionnaires to go to the front to be rehabilitated. We know what happened from the accounts of those present in Aiud at the time and from what Trifan and Marian told us. Captain Munteanu and Colonel Suceveanu, called from Sibiu and declared enemies of the legionaries, had taken the legionaries to the prison yard, surrounded by armed soldiers and trusted guards. They gave them a tempting speech: release on condition that they go to the front for “rehabilitation”, which ended treacherously: “Is there anyone who doesn’t want to go to the front?”

Confused by this question, which deliberately included the condition of going to the front, most of them stayed put. Only a group loyal to Stere Mihalexe, who had previously been ambivalent in their dealings with the master, left the ranks. Munteanu turned to threats, insulting those who remained, calling them cowards and traitors. Traian Trifan, a legionary commander and former prefect of Brasov, came to the fore and responded clearly and decisively:

– To go to the front in the fight against communism is an honour for every legionnaire. But for us it cannot be conditioned by any moral obligation. When the country and the nation call us to arms, we go to the front with all the rights and duties of a Romanian soldier, not under pressure and threats. Trifan Traian has the rank of captain and serves his country as a soldier, but the legion commander Traian Trifan has nothing to answer to anyone.

Everyone has gone along with him, except the group of those considered opportunists. Some abroad, unaware of the circumstances in which an attempt was made to use moral compromise to send the legionnaires to the front, accused Trifan of keeping the legionnaires in Antonescu’s prisons.

Munteanu, trying to gain more followers, became furious and accused Trifan and Marian of being the leaders of the rebellion. He ordered the soldiers to frame them between bayonets and take them to a cell on the ground floor of the Cellular. He then locked the others in the cell with both bolts, escorted by the guards. (Usually only the top bolt was locked with a key.)

Munteanu threatened to send them to the court martial, where he would ask for the death penalty for rioting in the prison, and he cursed Trifan. Trifan had a special cult for his mother and all the mothers of this nation. Munteanu was strong-willed, but Trifan was also an athlete and had done Greco-Roman wrestling. In a second he twisted his arm and threw him down the corridor like a boulder. Munteanu stood up in a rage and ordered the soldiers to shoot Trifan and Marian. The soldiers looked at their superior, a young sergeant, and put down their weapons. Munteanu was in uniform, and armed with a pistol, but he did not have the courage to commit murder because the witnesses were not in his favour. He began to shout, blaspheming, cursing and threatening to kill all the legionaries. Then Aiud rattled the doors of all the cells.

Trifan and Marian were sent to Brașov for disciplinary reasons, and Munteanu asked for a free hand in dealing with the legionaries; for almost a year he took steps to concentrate all the legionaries on Aiud. The presence in prison of a comrade who had escaped alive from the front demonstrated the criminal intention of the Antonescu government, which did not want our rehabilitation but our death: both physical and moral.

In June 1943 we were called to the administration in groups of 15 to 20. We had to fill in an application form with our personal details in order to go to the front for rehabilitation, to which was attached a declaration of dissociation from the Legionary Movement. Trifan and Marian, who had recently arrived from Brasov, were in a group with us. We all refused to fill in and submit the applications and asked for paper to state our position.

Isolation in Zarca

The next step was isolation in Zarca: 500 legionnaires crammed 8-10 into a 4/2 metre cell, harsh diet, disgusting food, sleeping on the floorboards, no blankets, just ragged clothes. The guards, Hungarian or Romanian, were incited against us by Major Munteanu. Buckets of water were thrown into the corridor, which froze, and the temperature was polar, causing many to fall ill with chest or stomach ailments.

Only a few succumbed. Believing that the presence of Trifan, Marian, Ilie Nicolescu, Mircea Nicolau and some other Legionaries was a reason for the others to resist, Trifan and Marian were sent to Suceava for disciplinary reasons, while the others were isolated on the top floor of the cell block.

(Virgil Maxim – Hymn for the Cross Carried)