Evheniia Gass. A Name Restored

Yevheniia Gass

In the photograph is my grandmother, Yevheniia Gass.

It is the gaze of a person who lived her life bearing a name that, for a long time, could not be spoken aloud.

In 1938, her father, Oleksandr Gass, was executed.

At that time, my grandmother was about one year old.

It was the period of the Great Terror — the mass repressions of 1937–1938 carried out by the NKVD of the USSR.

The NKVD conducted arrests and interrogations, fabricated criminal cases, and carried out death sentences based on extrajudicial decisions of the so-called “troikas.”

When my great-grandmother learned that Oleksandr was being taken to be executed, she grabbed her child and ran to the bridge.

From there, they saw her husband and father for the last time.

They witnessed his execution.

After that, life was no longer safe.

Almost every day, painted insults appeared on the fence near their home:

“German pigs.”

At that time, German origin in the USSR was a direct reason for persecution, accusations of “espionage,” and being labeled “an enemy of the state.”

My great-grandmother, Olha, was regularly summoned for interrogations by the NKVD.

Once, she was taken away and not released for several days.

What happened to her there was never spoken of in the family.

The fear used by the NKVD as an instrument of control stayed with people for the rest of their lives.

Whenever Oleksandr was mentioned, voices dropped to a whisper — even decades later.

My great-grandmother worked at an oil depot as an assistant accountant.

It was there that someone dared to help.

The director of the depot proposed a fictitious marriage and a complete change of documents — the only possible way at that time to save the child from further persecution by the NKVD.

Not merely changing a surname,

but removing the father’s name from the birth certificate.

Thus, Yevheniia Gass became Yevheniia Isenko.

The director had an acquaintance — a soldier who was going to the front.

Through him, an adoption and new documents were arranged.

My grandmother lived many years under a чужим surname.

But my great-grandmother destroyed nothing.

Despite the constant fear of searches, she preserved the documents,

the photograph of her husband,

and the correspondence with the soldier who adopted her daughter.

All of this remained hidden for decades.

Until one day, during an ordinary general cleaning, my mother came across these papers.

My great-grandmother refused to explain anything.

She said she would never speak about what happened to her during the NKVD interrogations,

and that she would never take part in searching for documents.

Then my mother spoke with my grandmother.

She was the one who told everything she knew.

Years of searching followed — archives, requests, journeys, court cases.

I was a child, but I clearly remember those roads and the waiting.

When my grandmother finally received the rehabilitation documents, she cried and said:

“I always knew that I was Yevheniia Gass, daughter of Oleksandr.

But I was afraid to say it.

And today — I can speak.”

This photograph is not just a portrait.

It is evidence of the crimes of the NKVD against a single family,

and a restored name that survived fear.