The escape of some prisoners in 1953

6 June 1953. I have been on sick leave for three days. I was getting into a lift when a stone rolled over me. I made an instinctive defensive gesture with my left hand. The stone hit the root of my index finger and cut into the bone. I was bandaged at the sanitary station. I felt a sharp pain with every movement.

These three days of rest were very welcome. This morning, before going into the mine, I was called to the doctor’s office. Dr Miltiade Ionescu told me:

– Mr Brânzaș, you have to go to the mine!

– Me? Impossible!

– Mr. Production Commander is unhappy that there are too many exemptions, so I am forced to send some of them to the mine. The others are sicker than you.

I replied firmly to the doctor’s unexpected attitude:

– I’m not going to the mine. It’s obvious from a distance that I’m unfit for work.

My left hand was bandaged and a scarf tied around my neck.

– You can’t handle a man like that, he says angrily.

No way! – I think as I walk out the door. My refusal was quite natural. But even if I’d been less injured, there was another reason why I wouldn’t go into the mine. A somewhat political reason. Dr Miltiade Ionescu was part of a group called “The Third Force”. Those who write about the Cavnic labour camp say nothing about this. It is a curious fact, to say the least, that no one mentions the ‘Third Force’. But what I am about to present is absolutely correct.

In Cavnic the people were politically divided as follows:

1. Traditional or historical parties (Liberals, Peasants and Social Democrats),

2. Legionnaires (who were proportionally the majority in the camp) and others.

The others were either officers, some of them convicted “war criminals”, or members of colourless political organisations that did not belong to either of the first two groups. Some of these joined together in a formation which called itself the ‘Third Force’. They were known to be avowedly pro-American. This group was to be a political force on the country’s stage of tomorrow. The group was represented by Ducu Ciocâlteu, Ion Pantazi, Dr Miltiade Ionescu, Ion Ioanid and others. Whoever joined this group automatically benefited from special medical protection. Dr Ionescu would declare you “sick” and you would stay on the surface to recover. It was a very effective way – in the special conditions of the Ocna – to gain followers. We, the Beiușenii, having been assimilated into the legionnaire’s group, did not enjoy the sympathy, let alone the protection, of Dr Ionescu.

This explains the rather bitter discussion between me and the doctor. In reality, the doctor wanted to send us to the mine for a very different reason from the one he had given.

The day passed without incident. I spent my time visiting friends in other barracks, especially as they were in reverse exchange with me, and took advantage of the opportunity. Now it was time to leave the mine. I stood in the courtyard and watched the people come out of the mine, some hurried, some lazy, each according to their temperament. After a while nobody comes out. We’re a bit puzzled. Never before had there been such a distance between two elevators. Strange as it may seem, no one comes out. Is something wrong? – we ask worriedly. Before we could get a better idea, we heard the alarm from the tower. From dozens of metal bars, guards are sounding the alarm. It sounds like a chorus of bells. It is shouted in obviously agitated voices:

– Alarm! Alarm! Everyone into the barracks!

We realised that this time it was not a simulated alarm, but a real one. Everyone went to their barracks. We stood at the windows overlooking the courtyard and waited in anticipation. I wonder what has happened? Then someone whispered: “Escape! A feeling of excitement overcame us all. We, the younger ones, rejoiced. Escape? That’s great! What a fantastic adventure! Mr Nelu Bânda, who was standing behind us, tried to wake us up:

– Hey, guys, don’t get excited! You don’t know what’s coming!

Mr Bânda, who has been in prison under several political regimes, knows that any escape will bring reprisals against everyone. But we newcomers didn’t know that yet. The one who whispered the word “escape” was George Sarry, who happened to be in our barracks. He was involved in the escape plans and knew exactly what was going on.

Some time later, the miners began to come out of the mine. The camp is full of guards and officers. Most of them are at the gate, the rest are guarding the barracks. Those at the gate receive the prisoners as they come out. The “reception” consists of punches, kicks, curses, threats and a thorough and brutal search. Once everyone is outside, the count begins. Nobody knows how many prisoners have escaped. So the count is repeated. Once, twice… ten times. They count until midnight. Every prisoner stays in his bed and looks for empty beds. In the end there were 14 empty beds, 14 escapees. I think that in the history of communist prisons with long sentences there has never been such a performance!

I found out that one of the escapees was Dr Miltiade Ionescu. A doctor on the surface, he had to go down into the mine to escape. He pretended that there had been too many accidents lately (one of them was mine!) and that he wanted to visit the mines to make an assessment. I think Incense appreciated his “conscientiousness” and “interest” in production. Dr Ionescu, afraid of being detained on the surface by Enamel to be questioned about the excessive number of exemptions, tried to reduce the number. But the law of conspiracy prevented him from reporting us for his obviously unprofessional attempt. The Farfuridian principle could not apply here: “If it’s an escape, let us know!

(Pr. Liviu Brânzaș – Ray from the Catacomb)