Spanish

History is written by the victors — perhaps because victory also brings with it the right to tell the story. It is important, however, to remain impartial: what one side said, especially when there was no one left to answer, does not always reflect what actually happened. That is why it is so important to learn the other side of the story as well.

The Second World War was no exception. It was an immense event that almost everyone has heard about. And because the “Allies” won the war, they largely determined how its history would be written.

Today I want to introduce a diary that describes the horrors experienced in Berlin at the hands of Soviet forces after the end of the war. The diary belonged to Vladimir Gelfand, a young Jewish lieutenant from Ukraine who began keeping notes in 1941. Despite the army’s prohibition, he carefully documented what he saw and experienced.

In his diary Gelfand writes not only about killings but also about mass rapes committed by some Soviet soldiers during the occupation of Berlin after the Second World War. One of the most shocking episodes is his account of meeting a group of Germans carrying suitcases. He asked where they were going.

“With horror on their faces they told me what had happened to them on the first night after the Red Army entered the city,” he wrote.

“They raped me here,” one of the young women said, lifting her skirt. “All night. Some were old, some had pockmarked faces. They all took turns. No fewer than twenty of them,” she added before bursting into tears.

Gelfand writes that the girl suddenly rushed toward him: “Stay here. Sleep with me. Do anything you want with me — but only you!”

In those days it was common for many German women to find a so-called “wolf” — a soldier with whom they could establish a less violent, almost protective relationship. Such an arrangement could help them avoid gang rape and could bring certain advantages: food, protection and a roof over their heads. This was not a freely made choice. It was a necessity — a means of survival. However one looks at it, these women were victims of circumstances.

We should remember that nothing in human history has happened without pain and suffering. Until we understand what actually happened, the dark side of the past will continue to exist and to be passed on.

Vladimir Gelfand was not the only person who left testimony about the events of that period.

There is another diary, published under the title A Woman in Berlin, describing cases of sexual violence inflicted on German women by soldiers of the Soviet Army.

At the time, the diary met with fierce criticism and was even suppressed, but decades later, in 2008, it was adapted for film. The film, known as Anonyma: A Woman in Berlin, was directed by Max Färberböck.

And just as these two examples exist, many other accounts have remained unknown simply because they do not fit within what society is willing to accept and because they cast a shadow over the reputation of the victors. Yet one should remember that nobody wins a war without getting blood on their hands.

On the outskirts of Berlin, in Treptow Park, stands a monument — a massive statue about twelve meters high depicting a Soviet soldier with a sword in one hand and a German girl in the other. Beneath his foot lies a broken swastika.

The monument was erected in memory of thousands of Red Army soldiers killed in the fighting for Berlin. A memorial inscription nearby states: “The Soviet people saved European civilization from fascism.” Today, however, some Berliners use another name for the monument: “the Tomb of the Unknown Rapist.”

That is why I invite you, if you are able to find and devote time to books of this kind, to read unconventional sources — those that show the other side of the moon. It is always important to know both versions of events. And if you can, share them so that other people can learn about books that never entered the official history but nevertheless exist and are waiting to be read.

Written by Ed. Pablo
Psychologist, 23 years old. I am not old, just battered; from time to time I write down whatever rains into my head.