Anastazas Janulis

From the letters of Anastazas Janulis:

"... It is regrettable that not all of my letters reach relatives or other addressees. In my letters, they see something which isn't even there and delay them. Or, perhaps more simply — they want to rub me against the grain ... I thank you for all your letters . . . including those which you would like to write (and do write, mental­ly), but conditions and circumstances do not allow me to re­ceive them. I'm working, but the stupid quotas keep increasing so that they are impossible to fulfill. . ."

... So if someone does not receive my letters, or I don't get their: it's not worth fussing over, but rather rejoicing as we do over everything which God gives and takes away.

"I pray God that more bearers of the Light of Christ will come forward. Our nation and our homeland need the Light of Christ so that the descendants of the Land of Crosses, the children of the Land of the Rūpintojėlis (The Pensive Christ — uniquely Lithuanian repre­sentation — Trans. Note), sons and daughters of the Land of Mary — all of us — being sinners, would not consider ourselves saints; as slaves, not boast of freedom. Also familiar to me is the following thought which sometimes becomes a silent prayer: "God of our Fathers, if the sacrifice of my life would give You more glory, if it would serve to benefit my homeland, the salvation of my soul and that of all my countrymen — here I am, take it!" So far, I have a strong grip on the cup given me by Divine Providence, and I'm determined to drink it to the dregs."

Vytautas Vaičiūnas writes:

"... In July, I wrote a petition to the Lithuanian press, and on September 20, they informed me that my request had been rejected. On September 21, I wrote the following statement, more or less: "... this denial I consider equivalent to a deprivation of my right to read my native Lithuanian language, therefore, I request permission for my wife to sign me up through the Soviet press for Lithuanian newspapers and magazines. The prohibition of the Prosecutor of Satka against receiving Lithuanian newspapers and magazines, I consider unjust. The newspapers and magazines were subscribed through the Soviet press, and the laws on which they based their prohibition to receive printed matter oblige the administration to see to it that prisoners not be left without reading material. To be prohibited from reading newspapers and magazines in one's native language is an act of discrimination . . .

"My mail is very spotty. Letters reaching Bakal lie around for a month at a time in the cabinets of the staff, and afterwards, they are sent back to Lithuania where, having been kept again for no short time, the fortunate ones, after covering 9000 km., reach me after two months.

"I thank you for your prayers, because of which the peace won for us by the Lord leads me on. This peace bothers those who run our lives, but it is not of this world, and the world cannot take it away."


October 27, 1982

On October 29, 1982, Vytautas Vaičiūnas received a visit from his wife. The prison administration says that they could release Vytautas Vaičiūnas, but he himself does not wish it — he does not admit his guilt.

"Freedom is very precious to me, but I will not ask you for favors, and I will not lable myself guilty. I have been here this long; I will stay for the rest of my sentence. This year of incarceration I dedicate as a sacrifice for my nation." says Vytautas Vaičiūnas.

The health of Vytautas Vaičiūnas has improved somewhat: His diet has improved — for the first time in his entire imprison­ment, lard has been delivered to the prison store.

Viktoras Petkus is devoting all his time left over from enforced labor to reading and creative work. He has collected very many notes, articles and transcripts. On Palm Sunday, 1982, a search was made of Viktoras Petkus' cell, and all his collected material was confiscated. On Easter Morning, 1982, all of the prisoner's possessions — material confiscated during the search were destroyed. Not every­one is so good at deriding a prisoner or giving him so much mental suffering. This requires Bolshevik Dzerzhinskyites!

During the fall 1981 visit, Viktoras' wife left him 15 kg. of food. After ten days, the prisoner was given one can of coffee and a month later, 3 kg. of bacon. Everything else ended up in the stomach of the lieutenant in charge, Gatin.

In December, 1981, a festering sore appeared on Viktoras' face. For an entire half year, no one gave him any medical assist­ance. He was referred to the hospital only in June 1982. For a month and a half, Viktoras was practically on vacation. After five years, he saw summer for the first time. The surgeon who operated on Viktoras said that the lesion was malignant, however, after the operation, his face healed.

At the beginning of June, ostensibly for breaking prison regula­tions, Viktoras Petkus was denied a visit with friends who had come to see him. In response to a question about the prisoners's health, it was said that everything was normal. Regarding the fact that Viktoras had been taken to the hospital — not a word!

In October, 1982, Viktoras was visited by his wife, Natalija. During the search, the prisoner had to wait two hours in fifteen degree (Centigrade) temperature, dressed in a summer prisoner s uni­form. After the visit, Lieutenant Gatin refused to accept any winter clothing for Viktoras, nor a single morsel of bread. Everything was

  Viktoras Petkus


confiscated. On the prison wall was the inscription, "Man to man — a brother, friend, comrade . . ."

On the occasion of Political Prisoner Day (October 30, 1981), in the Soviet Union, Anastazas Janulis and Vytautas Skuodis announced a hunger strike, wrote a suitable petition to the Prosecutor General of the Soviet Union, and by a brief statement informed the com­mandant of the local camp. Vytautas Skuodis and Anastazas Janulis repeated their strike in October, 1982.