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luni, 25 noiembrie 2019

Ana Simion - a different Elisabeta Rizea (fragments)


Monday, 21 March, 2011

I am the remaining metal
        Of worlds turned into ash by crimes
        I am the forever healthy echo
        From worlds, from worlds that are gone.

       Toma Arnăuţoiu


      Ana Simion was born in 1920 in the village of Slatina, in the commune of Nucșoara, in a family of peasants, with hardworking parents who always worked their land assiduously. Apparently a simple girl who, like so many others before her, was going to fulfill the known destiny of life in the countryside - working the plot of land and raising animals in the summer, domestic activities such as weaving and knitting in the winter and, in the ancestral order of things - early marriage and raising children, then grandchildren... A life that fits the typical Romanian rural pattern, with nothing different in its main aspects compared to the lives of parents, grandparents or great-grandparents. But what could Ana or any other inhabitant of Nucșoara want more than to get caught up in thispattern and live as did so many others before them at these foothills? During her childhood years, there were events taking place in the East that would change not only her destiny, but also the destiny of the inhabitants of Nucșoara and of all Romanians. The idea of the new world, based on class struggle, was being kneaded in the Bolshevik mixer, the export of the proletarian revolution was considered and put into theories, abandoned and brought back to the forefront of Stalin's great goals.




In the hospital, in Domnești, with Dr. Floarea, in February 2010


     I met Ana Simion on a February day, in the hospital in Domnești, when she was 90 years old. A bronchial asthma brings her every month to a hospital room where she is cared for by her favorite doctor - Mrs. Floarea. Of course, she doesn't want to talk to just anyone, especially now that she is ill, but the influence of the same admirable doctor brings me in the immediate vicinity of history. This gentle little woman is living history to me. She is quietly sitting on the bed and looking at me, neither too curious nor too intrigued, as she has seen plenty of things in her life and is now resignedly waiting to be "investigated" yet again by someone else. From the very beginning, she tells me that many people came to see her and asked her all kinds of questions, some important people from Bucharest, others from around here. She puts me on guard with a brief account of an "important person" who, as they arrived at her home, no sooner had they said "hello" than they started with questions, just as they used to do during investigations back in the day! She would have kicked them out of the house, but they seemed 'well-read' and ... she was ashamed to do it. In my heart I was a little relieved, as I had greeted, I had introduced myself, I had explained the reason of my visit and that I was not in a hurry, and I do not even dare to ask for straightforward answers to my questionnaire. Having met these minimum requirements, I am therefore clumsily preparing to operate the recording device after asking her for permission to use it. The scene is ready, the main performer is patiently waiting to hear the gong, and the audience... Yes, it's expected to have an audience as well, right? Four ladies, patients and inhabitants of the same village, as I would later realize, are visibly looking forward to finding out or to listening again to Ana Simion's story. Out of habit or maybe because they didn't want to just sit and watch time go by, two of them keep crocheting. As I was focused on the subject, I didn't notice the ladies' initially distributive attention, who were listening so carefully, that any artist would have wanted them among their audience, and at the same time the hooks were performing their duty, weaving small things for the grandchildren. I would then realize that they were absorbing every word, they were sighing, as if they were suffering together with Ana, and they reacted, at times, with a whispered aversion, like an ancient Greek choir, as the tormented youth of the old lady was revealed to them in such tragic and painful detail.


Young Ana Simion


       Since I intend to be a thorough researcher (at least I promised that to myself), I start the interview with the well-established questions that are part of the Civic Academy Foundation's standard questionnaire for investigating oral history. It didn't take much experience to realize that this work tool could only be used partially, because memories come in waves and fail to respect the structure of the questionnaire, as well as the chronological structure. Besides, because I'm familiar with the subject, I intend to try to have a discussion. The first questions determine short answers, related to identification data, parents, school, marriage. As I expected, she was looking in her past, at her childhood and her family, with nostalgia and great love. Her parents were hardworking people, who minded their own business and who raised her to become a worthy woman and to settle down at the right time. 'I will be thankful to them even from beyond the grave', Ana tells me. Something in her voice reveals regret for not having pursued further education. She got an education from the person who set the village benchmark of intellectuality and morality, the primary school teacher Ion Arnăuțoiu, Toma and Petre's father. She and Toma used to be classmates, the latter being a very good student, of course... She has words of appreciation for her first teacher - 'he was a brilliant teacher, but I was also afraid of him, we shuddered' whenever he entered the classroom. His role did not end when walked out the school gate, but it continued, in another way - 'We would sometimes go to their house, we didn't have a doctor back then and we would ask them, he was smart, Arnăuțoiu was also like a doctor, he was a well-read man in our commune, not like the rest of us!'
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
        As in so many other cases, Ana Simion's fall was the result of betrayal. Judas was walking through the gardens of Nucșoara in plain sight. One day, as she was out in the fields, one of Chirca's boys, the one nicknamed the Deserter, was waving his arms to her, and she went toward him, scared, believing that something serious had perhaps happened to one of her parents. But when she got next to him, she was grabbed by some secret police officers and beaten with a pole in order to tell them where she had been hiding a fugitive, a certain Gheorghe Mămăligă. Indeed, he had been hiding in the hay attic, not at her house, but at her sister's, and she could not admit to anything, as she didn't want to bring Marinica into the hands of these butchers. Her testimony about that first contact with the secret police officers is staggering - 'They tortured me to tell them, but I didn't say anything. They took me into the woods, close by, beat me with a pole... to make me say where that Gheorghe Mămăligă was, because he had shot Chirca. How could I have said anything, if I had told them about someone, that someone would have told them about everyone else and they would have killed everyone because of me. I was better off dying by myself and not saying anything! But I wasn't as guilty as these people tortured me, no...' They took her to the headquarters of the secret police, probably to Câmpulung, where the ordeal continued - 'I was tortured beyond belief, I was lying on the table, and they beat me with rubber poles, the kind these cops have; there were four guys, two would be eating and the other two would be coming to beat me, they just wouldn't stop beating me, my hips are now broken, doctors can't give me injections. [...] God helped me, if I didn't tell on anyone. They promised me money, a job, because they had beaten me until I fell on the cement and they took me to a doctor.' They were probably scared they had exaggerated with the beating without learning anything and took her to a civilian physician to whom they lied about finding her lying on the street. But the detainee, "from the floor, numb", powerlessly whispered to the physician that she was under investigation, which triggered a reaction of indignation on his part - 'You pigs, you jerks, what did you do to her!" And to their argument that she said nothing of what she had done against the state, the doctor boldly replied, 'Well, it's a good thing she didn't, that would have destroyed the people she would have told on too. Congratulations!', and after that he gave her some pills that made her feel a bit better. The investigation went on, as she was then brought not to a cell, because there was no more room, but to the toilets! The investigators had information that she had hidden a partisan. 'So, they would say that the runaway was at my place, God, how they tortured me for that man, “where is Gheorghe, where is Gheorghe?"' And then how was I to tell them that he was in my sister's attic, she had three children. They would fire their guns from there and from there in the yard, but they didn't care the children could have died, they were the masters. And I didn't tell them! I told them 'I don't know' and 'I don't know' and so on! But they were certain, he had told them, he had told them and handed me over to them. Yes!' 'I was badly hurt, my back is killing me from all the rubber poles that I was beaten with as I was lying on that table. Four guys! Two would go and eat, the beating wouldn't stop. I myself wonder how I still exist. And I don't know, I don't know, I didn't tell them one word, they couldn’t make me! What do you mean you don't know? We've been told this and that. These were murderers, they were paid to beat people, I would have rather went to dig holes, I would have made holes so deep that I could have buried those guys in them, but I couldn't have beaten people and taken money and brought that money home and raised my children with torture money. They wouldn't just slap you once or twice, to interrogate you, no, they would kill you!’
         After almost two weeks during which there was no progress in the investigation and Ana did not give them any information, they changed the investigation procedure. The four torturers disappeared and their place was taken by a colonel, 'from Bucharest, a tall man' who appeared at around 12 o'clock one night, and  invited her to take a seat and expressed sympathy for the condition of the detainee, as 'her skin was all black with bruises, there was nowhere to stick a needle'. He took two pills out of his pocket and offered her one to feel a bit better. But Ana realized that there was something wrong with the pill and that it could make her admit to  something: 'I was no fool'. So she held the pill under the tongue and waited for the right moment to throw it away, but the colonel was, 'keeping a close eye on me as I am doing now with you'. Finally, she spit it out and told him she couldn't swallow it because she hadn't had anything to eat or drink in two weeks. The investigator then took out a pile of money and put it on the table, promising, at the same time, that he would get her a job in Bucharest, but she couldn't be budged from her initial statements that she didn't know nothing and she wasn't guilty of anything. 'I don't need the money, I stay here if you catch them, if he saw me after them, because I knew he wouldn't tell on me. When you catch them!' She was released and asked to report as soon as she learned anything about the partisans. Once she got home, her every step was being watched - 'well, secret police officers were constantly watching us from our garden, they even put some neighbors to watch us, some dumb neighbor, but he bloody died!' She must have failed to observe the instructions, as after a while she was again arrested and put under investigation at Câmpulung Muscel. Detention conditions are inhumane - the cellar was dark and there was water in it, I myself wonder how I still exist, the water was up to the knees and it was pitch-black, either you held your eyes open or... and a lock as if I had killed all the people in our village. I was alone in the cellar and still hadn't eaten anything'. The policeman taking her to the inquiry room and back to the cell was originally from Nucşoara and he would always say to her: 'Tell them, they know you know, tell them and end this, they will kill you!'. In the tortured woman's mind sprung the idea that it was the investigators themselves who had assigned him to convince her. But she stayed strong until the end, two hard weeks at the end of which she was released and accompanied to her sister who was living in the city. Ana couldn't be budged because 'I have stated from the start that I would die by myself, now tell me, if we had been all connected, when I would hear you... how would my soul have felt?' They would have given me a great reward, they would have given me everything, as I knew them and I could have told on everyone, but what would I have done with the money? I go to the Lord only with my soul!' 




                                                  Ana Simion during her first arrest, in 1950

         Her faith and belief that what she was doing was right and the Christian thing to do gave her strength throughout this entire period. She also has a strong opinion that sooner or later, God will repay everyone, depending on the good or the evil they have done. She sees now that Ion Chirca, the one who betrayed her, 'has been bedridden for years, but think of how long he made me suffer for him'. Ana is serene and expects that implacable divine justice to take place. She has seen plenty of things during her long life and she believes that, in a way, God has given her these years to watch how the wicked receive their reward. She briefly and significantly characterizes those who brutalized her as 'low-lives, how can they beat people and take money for it, couldn't they find another job?'. Among those, there are Captain Enache, captain Cârnu and a certain Ploscaru. "I mean I, a woman, have suffered, they broke my hips and my head, Captain Cârnu threw me against the stove and as I ricocheted back to him he slapped me, which occurred about 30 times; I myself wonder how I still exist, I'm as thin as a rake, but the Lord watched over me when I suffered and when they tortured us there!'. As in the case of Elisabeta Rizea, the investigators were unable to get her to talk. 'I'd rather suffer than tell on someone and know they're beating another person for me, that's what I thought. You tell on another person, that other person tells on another and I'm here and I hear them torturing them, those I told on! I die, only I die, no big deal, the soul gets out, what else can it do? Well, about 2-3 times they took me, the first one in the commune, there was nobody else taken to say who else knows and where those persons might be!' [...], I cried so much in that cell that I think blood came out of my eyes, when I saw myself alone in the cell for so many days, I wasn't given a mattress or anything, so I laid down on the iron, naked, on the iron bed like that, someone would come and give me food, sometimes I took it, other times I didn't. But to hell with them, they tortured us for nothing. But in my heart, I'm pleased that no one took a slap for me, with all their money and their job, may I live well and may they go to hell! Couldn't they find another job, other than beating and... killing people?'
       After escaping these two weeks of terror in Câmpulung, she was taken to her sister, who lived right in the city, and she stayed there for a while because her recovery was very difficult, given the ordeal she went through. 'We were tortured by these people just like Christ, they wouldn't have tortured us like that even if we had killed the entire country!'



( Oana Dinu, traducător, linkedin.com/in/oana-dinu)






                                         ( Ana Simion' s house in 2014)




marți, 5 noiembrie 2019

Rana memoriei


      Nucşoara are o rană nevindecată. O rană a memoriei care încă mai sângerează, care nu o lasă să se liniştească şi să se împace cu ea însăşi, cu istoria sa.  Dar cum ar fi altfel, când 9 ani a fost un sat sub asediu, iar apoi a devenit ,,satul de după gratii?’’Cu atât mai mult cu cât anul 1989 nu a adus mari noutăţi, vălul  uitării a fost ridicat doar de un capăt  şi tot ce a fost ascuns şi acoperit cu lacrimi şi sânge, a ieşit la iveală. Elisabeta Rizea are meritul de a fi ridicat acest văl, graţie intervenţiilor sale, începând cu interviul acordat doamnei Lucia Hossu Longin pentru Memorialul Durerii în 1992. Rapid, aceasta munteancă straşnică a devenit  un simbol al rezistenţei anticomuniste. Casa ei a ajuns loc de pelerinaj, poştaşul nu mai prididea cu aducerea scrisorilor şi diverselor pachete din ţară. Oameni de rând, dar şi politicieni au vizitat-o. Maiestatea Sa Regele Mihai i-a călcat pragul casei, casa în care de fapt se mai aflase odată în perioada interbelică.  Lumea o iubea pe Elisabeta Rizea, căci eliberată de comunism, căuta să-şi găsească repere, să îşi demonstreze sieşi că nu a fost atât de lașă, că în neamul acesta au existat oameni care nu s-au aplecat şi au luptat până la capăt. Elisabeta Rizea  valida ego-ul nostru, ne asigura că şi noi am fi putut fi ca ea, că nici noi nu ne-am fi vândut ca Iuda pe 30 de arginţi, chit că ne-ar fi bătut cu bastonul de cauciuc până ne-ar fi înnegrit tot corpul, chit că ne-ar fi smuls părul din cap şi braţele din articulaţii. Aşa cum a păţit-o ea…
        Dar vocea Elisabetei Rizea, atât de puternică, a avut şi un efect de bumerang. S-a întors împotriva celorlalţi, a acoperit celelalte voci ale rezistenţei anticomuniste. Zeci de persoane care au trecut prin acelaşi iad cu dânsa  au rămas anonime şi şi-au păstrat experienţa antiregim, experienţa carcerală, doar în familie, ba uneori chiar fără să ştie nici familia. Ei bine, aceste voci trebuie căutate şi auzite, trebuie cunoscute. Unii au spus că Elisabeta Rizea vorbeşte despre Nucşoara de parcă singură ar fi purtat lupta în satul de sub munte. Că a confiscat cumva micarea de rezistenţă.
      Nu, nu-i aşa, din contră, ea  a dus-o acolo unde este astăzi şi, dacă Elisabeta Rizea, s-a împăcat pănă la urmă cu oamenii satului, cu cei mai mulţi, cred eu, fie foşti duşmani, fie foşti aliaţi pe care popularitatea  ei i-a deranjat, poate că a sosit timpul ca să încercam să alinăm ultimele răni ale Nucşoarei. Cum? Prin a înţelege mai întâi, cei ce se trag din neamul Arnăuţoiu, Chirca, Jubleanu, Marinescu, Rizea, Drăgoi, Constantinescu, Berevoianu, Tomeci, Bășoiu, Mica, Moldoveanu, Popescu că suntem în faţa unei oportunităţi unice – crearea unei Case Memoriale la Nucşoara care să îi strângă pe toţi sub umbrela sa. Da, Casa Memorială Elisabeta Rizea se va numi, dar va fi un acoperământ pentru toţi, va reda şi va face justiţie, având ca motto cuvintele doamnei Ana Blandiana - ,,Atunci când justiţia nu reuşeşte  să fie o formă de memorie, memoria singură poate fi o formă de justiţie.’’ Îi invit pe cei care poartă acest nume şi pe ceilalţi, sute de urmaşi ai celor ce-au suferit, să vină şi să ne ajute, să aducă cu ei nu neapărat  bani, ci mai ales amintiri, poveşti, istorii. Nu putem realiza o Casă Memorială fără ca nucșorenii să ne ajute, fără ca şi corbenii să ne ajute. Căci ea trebuie integrată în Nucşoara, aşa cum a fost mereu până a murit Elisabeta Rizea, apoi şi fiica sa, tanti Elena. De asemenea, cred că a venit vremea ca autorităţile să se implice cu adevărat, să demonstreze că doresc să se despartă de trecut asumându-şi- l şi împăcându-se cu el.
Strănepotul Elisabetei Rizea, Bogdan Vârvoreanu, încearcă din toate puterile să realizeze acest proiect unic în toată Muntenia. Zile de discuţii, ore de înregistrări şi interviuri, zeci de telefoane date, un consum uriaş de energie timp de mai bine de un an şi promisiunea de a demara lucrările de salvare şi renovare a Casei cât mai curând.  Lângă Casa Memoriala se va ridica o sală multifuncţională -  atât sala muzeală cât şi de proiecţie şi de conferinţe, precum şi  o casă de oaspeţi. Va fi un spaţiu public, casa va fi doar pentru public. Este cu adevărat un proiect ambiţios, a cărui realizare trebuie să ofere o imagine obiectivă asupra mişcării de rezistenţă armată anticomunistă din Făgăraş, zona Nucşoarei. Şi va fi un pas pentru ca  acei ce au suferit, pentru urmaşii lor, care au suferit de asemenea, să se împace cu trecutul. Şi astfel, memoria să devină o formă de justiţie !



Pentru mai multe informaţii despre proiectul CER, accesaţi  http://casaelisabetarizea.ro/.


duminică, 3 noiembrie 2019

A căzut un călăreţ

       Bunicii mei, învăţător Iancu şi Laurenţia Arnăuţoiu din Nucşoara/Muscel, au avut cinci copii: Ion, Elena, Toma, Anton şi Petre. Curajul lor, dragostea de ţară, de adevăr și dreptate, buni creştini, aceste trăsături s-au certificat cu aportul lor în timpul celui de al doilea război mondial, prin decoraţiile primite.
            Ion Arnăuțoiu, fiul cel mare, se distinge prin curaj încă de pe băncile școlii. Ca elev la Liceul ,,Dinicu Golescu'' din Câmpulung este decorat, în anul 1934, de Regele Carol al II- lea, pentru contribuția sa la stingerea incendiului izbucnit la mănăstirea „Negru Vodă” și biserica Șubești.           
         În timpul celui de-al doilea război mondial, ca ofițer în Escadronul 1 Vânători călări -Dumbrăveni, participă la Campania din Răsărit (22 iunie 1941 - 8 februarie 1944). Cade în luptele din Crimeea, la Baccisarai, răpus de o mină. Maiorul Săvoiu mărturisea: ,,se specializase în deminarea terenurilor pe câmpul de luptă într-un asemenea grad, încât, călare, scotea sabia și cu ea, smulgea mina și o arunca''.        
      Mărturie a curajului său sunt decorațiile:                                                            
- ,,Virtutea Cercetășească'', ca elev;               
- ,,Coroana României'' și ,,Steaua României'' cu panglica de Virtute Militară;           
 - ,,Crucea de Fier''- clasa a II-a și ,,Crucea de Aur a Vulturului German'', ca militar.  
     Este propus de mai multe ori pentru Ordinul ,,Mihai Viteazul".     

                                              


(Familia Arnautoiu din Nucsoara; sursa - Elena Ion Arnautoiu, Povestea familiei Arnautoiu din Nucsoara)

            Anton spunea despre fratele său, Neluţ - ,, prezenţa lui era copleşitoare, ca generozitate, demnitate, prietenie, încă din adolescenţă; apoi pe front, aceste calităţi vor fi întregite de un puternic spirit militar dominat de patriotism"'.  Sunt trăsături pe care le-am regăsit la toţi fiii Arnăuţoiu, chiar dacă pe unii dintre fraţi ,,i-am cunoscut''' din amintirile tatălui meu.
           Toma Arnăuţoiu (1921-1959), ca şi fratele Neluţ, este absolvent al Şcolii de Cavalerie ,,Regele Ferdinand''.  După o perioadă în Regimentul de Gardă, în iunie 1944, va pleca pe front. Participă la luptele de la Budapesta şi va fi decorat, primind ,,Coroana României '' cu Spade şi Panglici de Virtute Militară. În contextul politic al anului 1947, este trecut în rezervă. Scoaterea sa din armată pe criterii strict politice, va influenţa decisiv hotărârea de a se opune regimului comunist. Începând cu anul 1948,unchiul meu, organizează împreună cu domnul colonel Gheorghe Arsenescu, Mişcarea Militară Anticomunista, din Nucşoara/Muscel, zona munţilor Făgăraș - versantul sudic. După prima ciocnire armată, cu Securitatea, din luna iunie 1949 şi separarea de grupul colonelului Arsenescu, va conduce grupul ,,Haiducii Muscelului" împreună cu fratele său, Petre. După zece ani de supravieţuire, în condiţii de privaţiuni extreme, de multe ori depăşind limitele omeneşti, grupul este anihilat în luna mai 1958, în urma unei trădări. Toma Arnautoiu va fi executat la Jilava,în Valea Piersicilor, în noaptea de 18-19 iulie 1959, împreună cu alţi 15 membri ai grupului.



(Toma Arnautoiu  sursa - Elena Ion Arnautoiu, Povestea familiei Arnautoiu din Nucsoara)

      Anton Arnăuţoiu,   tatăl meu (1924-2000), ca şi fraţii mai mari, îmbrăţişează cariera militară. Dorind să-şi slujească patria ca aviator, se înscrie la Şcoala de Aviaţie Pipera. Ca ofiţer în rezervă, participă la luptele aeriene de la Băneasa din august 1944. Este doborât cu avionul în luptele de apărare a unităţii militare şi grav rănit, în urma unei rafale de mitralieră, care îi ciuruise pieptul. Pentru meritele sale în luptă, va primi medalia ,,Bărbăţie şi Credinta'' cu Spade şi ,,Crucea Serviciului Credincios''cu Spade. La doar 20 de ani este trecut în retragere definitivă, ca invalid de război gradul I. Tatăl meu va sprijini permanent grupul ,,Haiducii Muscelului''din modesta  pensie de invalid de război. Supravegheat permanent de către Securitate, tata va fi anchetat periodic, torturat cu magnetoul electric. Ultima arestare va fi în anul 1988..... Se stinge din viaţă în luna mai anul 2000 în Săptămâna Luminată, în etate de 76 ani. Dintre toţi fiii Arnăuţoiu, tata -Anton, este singurul care supravieţuieşte, ca o mărturie a biruinţei vieţii asupra suferinţei, fără margini, provocate de război, de moartea părinţilor în închisoare, de moartea fraţilor executaţi, de moartea soţiei, mama mea, la doar 34 de ani....



( Anton Arnautoiu; sursa: fotografie de pe legitimatie de calatorie in posesia doamnei Laurentia Arnautoiu)
    Petre Arnăuţoiu (1926-1959), cel mai mic fiu al familiei, este prea tânăr pentru a merge pe front. În 1948 îşi va însoţi fratele Toma, în lupta anticomunistă, dovedind un nemăsurat curaj moral şi fizic, în toţi cei zece ani de rezistenţă armată. A renunţat la viaţă tihnită de familie -lasă acasă doi copii mici de doi şi trei ani - dăruindu-se idealului de luptă anticomunistă, ideal care l-a însufleţit pe fratele Toma, fiind convins că este spre binele tuturor.



                                                  ( Petre Arnautoiu din Nucsoara; sursa - Adevarul.ro)
     Redăm mai jos un articol apărut în presa vremii, păstrat de tatăl meu, Anton Arnăuțoiu, despre lupta si moartea lui Neluţ.    
(Laurenţia Arnăuţoiu)   

       Viaţa de front, cu firele-i ţesute în viaţa morţii creiaza între comandanţi şi ostaşi, o comunitate unică. Deasupra tuturor celor cuprinşi între liniile de sârmă ghimpată  şi spatele câmpului de bătaie atârna implacabil o sabie a lui Damocles, ce se poate declanşa din văzduh, de pe pământ în orice clipă trecând în nefiinţă, pe oricine fără deosebire. Inimele lor bat cu aceeaşi emoţie în furtunile luptei, iar gândurile, sbuciumul şi dorurile se împărtăşesc reciproc întărind definitiv această legătură sufletească. De aceea, pierderea unui lasă în jurul celor rămaşi un gol ce nu se umple niciodată.
        Acest sentiment l-am avut la escadronul de vânători călări, pe care l-a comandat până în ceasul morţii locotenentul Arnăuţoiu Ioan, un călăreţ desăvârşit şi brav, peste al cărui proaspăt mormânt cununile de flori n-au prins a se usca încă. La postul de veghe din munţii Crimeei, în clipe de răgaz, călăreţii povestesc de aprigele lupte, de comandantul al cărui suflet a rămas pentru totdeauna.
        De el se leagă toate amintirile, începând dela prima zi de razboiu. Atacul viguros împotriva pichetului de grăniceri bolşevic dela Bilca. Înaintarea până în apropierea Storojineţului, oraş în care a pus cel dintâiu piciorul, sub barajul ucigător al artileriei inamice. Deacolo spre Cernăuţi, pe dealul Camenca, atunci când comandantul cade rănit ia în mâinile lui viguroase destinul neînfricaţilor călăreţi. Şi, de aci înainte, fiecare zi de luptă, în iureşul victorios al escadronului, în goana cailor trece Nistrul urmărind inamicul ce se retrăgea depe câmpiile întinse ale Transnistriei.
        Ziua de 26 iulie 1941 va rămâne neştearsa în amintirile tuturor. Escadronul primise  misiunea  să facă legătura cu o divizie de infanterie. În faţa satului Tibulevca după o puternică pregătire de artilerie, sovieticii trec la contraatac, cu  care de luptă, reuşind să facă o spărtură în front. Monştrii de oţel produc panică. Pericolul amenia întregul escadron. Atunci, dându-şi seama de gravitatea situaţiei, cu un avânt nebun, Locot. Arnăuţoiu sare din șanţ cu o sticlă de benzină în mână şi dă foc primului car. Pilda lui salvatoare e urmată cu același elan, şi vânătorii călări înscriu una din marile lor biruinţi. În vâltoarea  luptei este rănit la picior, dar rămâne acolo până la restabilirea situaţiei. Această faptă de arme îi aduce răsplata primei decoraţii, ,,Coroana României’’.
        În ziua de 9 Octombrie 1941, când ruşii sunt încercuiţi la Est de Nowo-Poltavca, în avangardă cu o grupă de mitraliere pătrunde în dispozitivul inamic şi dezlănţuind un foc puternic de surpriză îi zăpăceşte. Peste 500 de prizonieri şi un numeros material de razboiu capturat sunt fructul îndrăzneţei acţiuni, pentru care e decorat cu ,,Steaua României’’.
    Luptele din Cuban, de pe Dolgaje Krenest, valea Lipki, Bacanskaja şi altele, îl găsesc tot atât de aprig şi vitejia sa stârneşte admiraţia camarazilor germani, a căror preţuire e concretizată prin conferirea  ,,Crucii de fier’’.
        Întors în Crimeea, neastâmpărul de luptător îl stăpâneşte şi se avântă în luptele de curăţire a munţilor de partizani. Din proprie iniţiativă face pânde, patrulări şi recunoaşteri, punându-şi viaţa în pericol cu nepăsare.
        Într-o ultimă acţiune, la SV de Sablin, pe cota 718, în ziua de 8 februarie 1944, îşi găseşte o moarte neaşteptată şi năprasnică. Trupul lui frumos de călăreţ e sfărâmat de o mină pusă de mâna lașă a unui bandit, pe cărarea care-i urmărea, în fruntea escadronului său.
      Astăzi, în desişul negrelor păduri, pe stâncile colţuroase, călăreţi însetaţi de răzbunare, răscolesc cuiburile viperelor, pentru a plăti cu sânge, moartea celui mai iubit comandant al lor.

De Serg. t.r. Gruia Floruţoiu (reporter de război S. M. P.)