Author Writes of Communist Oppression in Russia

Janina Stankiewicz Chung was born in Belarus in 1938, and came to the United States with her family through the Displaced Persons Resettlement Program in 1951.

Far East Of The Sun, her first novel, explores another side of World War II, that of the displaced person. Janina and her family endured thirteen years of life under Communist oppression in Russia, forced relocation to Hitler's Germany and its hellish concentration camps, and the confusion of postwar displaced persons camps.

As a mother of four, with four grandchildren and six great-grandchildren, Janina thanks "God everyday for my mother and father. They had the vision and endurance to bring us to freedom and opportunity that my family and my sibling's families now enjoy."

From Far East of The Sun:

His cheeks were red; lips pressed tightly together were chapped and turning blue from the bitter cold wind. Wisps of wet, blonde hair escaped from the rough handmade cap, forming small icicles on his forehead that melted against his skin like teardrops. Intense cornflower blue eyes full of despair squinted through snow-covered eyelashes, searching for the winding road buried under a foot of newly fallen snow.

Pine trees, tall and majestic with branches covered in snow and ice, were hanging low with long icicles that reached out like fingers against the passing sled; like sentries shielding the occupants from the howling wind and blowing drifts.

Sasha was perched on the small front seat of the sled. His muscular arms and body, used to hard labor, strained as he pulled on the reins, guiding the tired mare in the right direction of the once visible dirt road. Wild-eyed with fear, the mare whinnied and puffs of steam blew through her nose. Desperately, she shook her head to rid the snow off its long mane, which blinded her vision. Her hooves slid on the ice buried under a foot of newly fallen snow causing her to stumble, threatening to overturn the precious cargo in its hold.

"Whoa! Szarna...Pomaludku. Whoa! Szarna...Easy now..." In a raspy hoarse voice barely audible to the mare's ears, Sasha tried to soothe the skittish mare.

Huddled in the back of the sled was his wife Anya. Gripping the sides with frozen and numb fingers, she tried to shield herself from the falling snow. Blankets wet, rough, and threadbare offered little protection from the open heavens, emptying its cargo onto their world.

Agonizing moans muffled by the wind reached Sasha. Anya moaned again. This time, long, deep, guttural. Each bump of the sled was like a knife stabbing her back causing a new contraction, each one stronger and more intense than the last. Her deep blue eyes brimming with tears were full of terror, and gasping with dry lips she prayed, "Hospudzi Pomarzy Nam....Hospudzi Pa Miluj Nas.... God help us.... God love us. Let this child be born
safely." Anya took another deep breath. She closed her eyes before the next contraction ripped through her body.

I must find shelter soon...or we will perish...Hospudzi...Hospudzi...Pomarzy name...God...Oh, God...Help us...I have to find a way out of this whiteness...Sasha's thoughts echoed his wife's plea. He was lost and desperate. Panic set in, quickening his heartbeat as if two steel forceps were squeezing the breath out of him. Striving to fight fear with reality, Sasha began to recall the events of the past few weeks...

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Purchase: Far East of the Sun

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