r e f l e c t i o n s

To mark September as the month for children to return to schools, the following excerpt describes a school and its students and teachers during war time circumstances (1940 to 1944), after the young Msgr. Kucingis had been appointed chaplain of Telsiai high school.

The Telsiai gimnazija [high school] was not a stranger to me. I knew several teachers from before. After getting settled in the apartment, I went to present myself to the principal of the gimnazija, Mr. Rubazevicius. He made a very good, fatherly impression on me. He was quiet and tactful. The Bolshevik time had not affected him. Even under difficult circumstance, he was capable to do the work of a preceptor and educator.

The work of the chaplain was difficult. There were several parallel classes. Almost every day I had several lessons. There was a shortage of textbooks. I had to provide written notes. Besides teaching religion, I was appointed, almost every year, the ethics teacher of the 8th (graduating) class. All teachers were favorably disposed toward the chaplain's work. During the second recollections, they participated in the conferences together with the students. That beautiful example affected the students. Almost half of them were children of the town people, the others were country boys and girls. The most trouble was with the town-dwellers, the children of the so-called intelligentsia. However, the overall impression was good.

The work of the school was made very much more difficult by the economy: the school had to provide wood for heating in winter and everyone had to live on ration cards; which, during the war, were ridiculously small. The students also felt this lack, especially the poor ones. Because of this, after consulting the Principal, we organized a small dining room for needy students.

The school let us use a large hall in the cellar of the school, where the dining room was established. With the consent of the school, we distributed sign-up sheets for collecting donations during school vacations. We used to collect even up to 10,000 marks, for which we bought pigs and, after they were butchered secretly, took them from the country to an appointed place in town. The Germans had forbidden the slaughter of pigs without their permission. They bought them more cheaply for the army. The farmers were cunning. Instead of a fattened pig, they used to leave a small piglet in order to be able to show the inspector that the number of their pigs had not changed.

In addition, we used to buy potatoes, peas, beans, and other vegetables, and mixing in large pieces of meat, used to cook country soup. And thus we helped the poor students. Our dining room became so popular, that some of the teachers used to come during the long midday intermission to eat the tasty and nutritious soup.

During the time of Lithuania's independence, teachers were forbidden to accept any kind of help from students. However, during the war this turned out to be impractical. Some teachers who had to live from the meager rations they got on the cards, were practically starving. Among them were my sister, Elena, and I. Our home farm was far away and difficult to reach. We had to be satisfied with what we could buy. The Ministry of Education was appealed to and this order, not to take help from the students, was changed. After the parents of the students were notified, the situation improved. My sister and I got so much help that we could help other teachers. Dambrauskai, from Luoke, and the Raudbiu family especially supported us. Later, after finding this out, Bishop Borisevicius used to send us a goose, or a duck through his sisters.

The proverb says: "One trouble is no trouble..." The Germans began to meddle in the affairs of the school. They bothered and tried to recruit older boys to join the army. In Marijampole, they organized a school, supposedly for cadets. The German officers would come, make speeches, and urge students to enlist in the army. Their speeches were translated by teacher Purvinas. The students began to ask during classes what they should do. My advice to them was that without parents' permission they should not do anything. The eighth class students were being promised that, if they enlisted in the army, they would receive a graduation certificate without exams. Of the whole gimnazija, only one volunteer left for Marijampole to the cadet school.

One day, German soldiers came, surrounded the cadet school, caught almost all of them, and took them to Germany. Only a few managed to escape. The student from Telsiai returned, injured with a bandaged arm, and came to me to apologize for not listening to my advice.

That was not enough. The German Security, finding out about my attitude, probably informed by one of the teachers, sent two SS men to my apartment, accompanied by a Lithuanian interpreter, and began to question me. I told them that I was not against students joining the army and only counseled them that before making this decision, they should consult their parents. They believed me and left me in peace.

The 1943-44 school year became even more difficult. The army requisitioned the school house and told us to move. We huddled together in a former Bernardine school, next to the cathedral and a second group moved to the house of Mr. Sidabras. The whole gimnazija could not fit in those quarters. We had to work in two shifts - one before lunch, the other after lunch. That meant working from 8 a.m. to almost 9 p.m. I used to come home so exhausted that it seemed my head was going to burst from the pain.

It was especially bad in the former Bernardine premises. It was a building sunk into the earth, with thick stone walls and damp. When it was being heated, it was full of vapors, but if we opened the windows, it was cold. It was a real torture.

And so, with much difficulty, we finished the school year. The eastern front, like a horrible storm, was creeping toward Lithuania. At night, Russian planes were growling, destroying towns, and killing people.

I spent the summer vacation at my parents' home and journeyed to Palanga (a famous Lithuanian resort on the shores of the Baltic Sea). There were few people there. It was not like old times, when the beach was full of summer visitors. The approaching front affected this place also.

In the middle of August, I went to Telsiai to start the new school year. It was supposed to begin September 1st. A small group of teachers gathered with the Principal. Because the front was changing almost weekly, we decided not to start the new school year. After saying our good-byes, we all dispersed. Now the question remained, what future plan should we choose, where to go?