BOLSHEVIK HORRORS.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 16503, 2 August 1919, Page 6

BOLSHEVIK HORRORS.

GRAVEDIGGER’S STORY. One of tho most cold-blooded and gruesome stories of Bolshevik atrocities aas been related to Reuter’s special correspondent (says the London Daily Telegraph) by tho aged gravedigger of the churchyard at r'aitigorsk, a town in the middle of the Caucasus, where the wholesale murder of generals (including Russky and Radko Dmitrielf), ex-Ministers, aristocrats, officers, and leading civilians was perpetrated in tho days of the Bolshevik regime. In his simple but dramatic narrative the old man described how he was suddenly aroused from his bed in the middle of the night by a loud knock on the door, accompanied by a shout of “There’s work for you.” He continued

“1 got up and opened the door. It) was a clear night, but the moon was obscured. A party'of ten Red Guards, all decently dressed and having the appearance of authority, stood before my little lodge. On the road behind about 100 men were drawn up, three in a row. Those at either end of each row carried naked swords. ‘Well, old man, ‘have you any large graves ready?’ ‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘there aro some hospital graves prepared, which will hold about forty.’ ‘That’s just what we want,’ was the rough reply. ‘Show us the way, and bring a dozen spades with you.’ “I carried the spades, but my hands were shaking as though with the ague. As wo made our way through the graves 1 heard one of the prisoners murmur to himself, 'This is a free country, and we are to he executed without charge or trial.’ ‘Who said that?’ demanded one of the commissaries sharply. T did,’ answered one of the party. “ ‘And who are you?’ ‘A human being.’ ‘But who were you before? A Russian general, perhaps?’ ‘Yes, I was a general.’ ‘Well, you won’t be a general or anything else much longer, and meanwhile take this to keep you quiet.’ And the brute struck the wretched man across the face with the fiat of his sabre. . , “The officer neither uttered a sound' nor moved a hand, but walked on with bowed head. In all there were about thirty-five prisoners. I could not see their faces, but from their figures and gait it was.evident that some were young and some elderly. Well, we walked past the church and towards the hospital graves. The Red Guards ranged their victims around one of the graves, and ordered them to unfasten their collars and bare their necks. They then told them to kneel down, and the order was obeyed calmly and silently. ‘Begin from the left,’ commanded one of the leaders.

“Five of the Guards approached those kneeling on the extreme left. I caught the glimmer of steeL ‘Have you ever seen butchers chopping meat ? You know the sound.’ So it was at that moment. The executioners struck regularly and leisurely, taking their time. The blades fell upon the neck 4 or sideways from the ear, or across the face. The behaviour of the victims was heroic. None offered any resists flaee, and none awaiting his turn , moved. Some of them rolled right into the |ravo, and some fell outside. They were kicked inside together as they fell. When all was over the swords, dripping with blood, were wiped and, sheathed again, and the Bolsheviks 7 , lighting cigarettes, began to laugh and jest. I ' “ ‘Fill up the grave, old man/ I was curtly ordered. Others helped, and hi the sods of .earth fell into the grave groans were distinctly audible. I don’t remember how I finished my work. I longed to leave the awful spot, but the Guards shouted out to me, ‘Don’t go to sleep, old man; we’ll bring you another lot in an hour or so.’ And so they did. twenty-five to thirty more, who were treated in the same terrible way. “As we were returning to my lodge I ventured to ask a young Bed Guard (nearly all of them were mere lads Of 18-20 years of ago), ‘Who were they, comrade ’ ‘AVho knows)” he answered indifferently. _ 'Our leaders say they were all leading bourgeoisie, generals, colonels, and grand dukes.’ ”