[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]In 1953, Rabbi Osher Sasonkin was sentenced to a labor camp in East Siberia. It was an isolated place surrounded by pine forests, somewhere near Omsk. In this camp, fenced in by barbed wire, about 3,000 slave laborers were interned. The majority had been sent there for supposed “contra-revolutionary” acts – some were Ukrainian nationalists, and some were criminals.
The laborers were divided into brigades under the supervision of a brigadier. Then there was a Natchalnik (chief) over the whole camp. Each brigade had its barracks, with hard wooden bunks covered with straw-filled mattresses, over which the weary laborers sought to ease their aching bodies.
The job of the laborers was to cut down trees and cut them into logs and boards suitable for building. They also built wooden huts and made other items.
One day, which happened to be Hoshanah Rabba, the brigadier received an order to transfer eighteen laborers to another brigade. Reb Osher was one of those selected, the only Jew among them.
When they arrived at the other barrack Reb Osher immediately began to look for a bunk in some secluded corner, where he could manage to pray and put on Tefillin without attracting too much notice. This was no simple matter.
Reb Osher finally decided on a bunk that he felt would serve his purpose best, when he overheard one of the men who had come from the previous barrack report to the new brigadier:
“Eighteen of us have been sent here; one is a Jew. He is over there [pointing in Reb Osher’s direction] and he does not work on his Sabbath.”
“Is that so?” exclaimed the brigadier sarcastically. “He will work for me alright, Sabbath or no Sabbath.”
“Take my advice and leave the Jew alone,” responded the prisoner. “He’s a tough guy; not afraid of anyone, only of G-d. He was not even afraid of the Natchalnik of the camp. You’ll save yourself a lot of unpleasantness if you don’t start up with him.”
The brigadier did not answer the man but came up to Reb Osher and called him into his office.
“Tell me, is it true that you do not work on your Sabbath?” he asked him.
“That is true, I do not work on my Sabbath.”
“And will you work tomorrow?” he asked.
“No,” answered Reb Osher.
“How is that? Tomorrow is not the Sabbath.”
“Tomorrow we Jews celebrate a religious holiday. I do not work on my Sabbath or on my religious holidays.”
“What holiday do you have tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow we celebrate the holiday of Sukkot,” said Reb Osher.
“Oh, yes, I’ve heard of your holiday of Booths. Some Jewish neighbors back home always built a booth. Oh, alright. You won’t work tomorrow. However, this you must do. You cannot remain alone in the barrack. Otherwise, it will be bad for you and for me.”
“Sure, sure,” answered Reb Osher. “That’s fine.”
The following day Reb Osher went off with all the others to the place where the work was to be done that day. The brigadier divided the men into small groups and gave each group his orders for the day. He left Reb Osher for last, mumbling something like, “Get lost or look busy.”
Reb Osher was only too happy to obey. He searched and found a suitable place where he hoped to pray undisturbed. It was in an unfinished hut. He lost no time to prepare himself for prayers.
He was in a prayerful mood and thankful to G-d for His protection. He prayed slowly and with great concentration. When he was almost finished, a man came up running and panting. As soon as he could catch his breath he called out:
“Thank goodness I’ve found you! Come quickly!”
“What happened?” asked Reb Osher as they ran as fast as they could.
“The brigadier received word that the Natchalnik was coming to review the labor camp. Everyone had to be accounted for, and the brigadier suddenly remembered that you were missing. He became frantic and sent out a search party.”
When Reb Osher and the other laborer reached the camp, all the others were lined up for inspection. The brigadier looked pale and worried, but as soon as he saw them, he heaved a sigh of relief.
The next moment the Natchalnik appeared. The review passed off in order. No sooner had the Natchalnik left than the brigadier chose two men to keep an eye on Reb Osher. He wasn’t going to take any more chances that Reb Osher might again disappear and he would have to take the blame.
The following day, Simchat Torah, while the other inmates went to work, Reb Osher and his two “guards” went into the nearby forest, where they found a nice, quiet spot. They sat down on some fallen logs, and his spirits rose. It was Yom Tov, and he had managed not to desecrate the holy day by working. He had a yearning to sing a Chassidic tune. Just then, one of the men accompanying him turned to him and said, “We’re sitting here doing nothing. Can’t you sing a song for us to help us while the time away?”
“With pleasure, my friends,” answered Reb Osher. “Here is a lively holiday tune that you’ll enjoy hearing.” He closed his eyes and let go! The only thing he was conscious of was that it was Simchas Torah and he was going to sing some lively Chassidic melodies. When he finished singing, the two men clapped their hands and cried out, “Bravo!”
They returned to the camp, and the men told the others that Reb Osher could sing jolly, lively tunes. They begged him to sing for the group. As he sang, he felt a great urge to dance. This he did, and the audience joined in by clapping their hands to the rhythm.
As he sang and danced, he forgot the fact that he was a slave laborer in a Siberian labor camp. In spirit, he was singing and dancing the hakafot in Lubavitch.
(Excerpted from The Storyteller by Rabbi Nissan Mindel, published by Merkos L’Inyonei Chinuch, 1986)[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]