Uprooted: The Ralph Kand Story, Part Two -- The Day It All Broke Open

Another of the early stories Ralph told me took place during the Soviet occupation of Estonia. On September 28, 1939, Adolf Hitler and Joseph Stalin signed an agreement that divided much of Eastern Europe into German and Soviet spheres of influence. The following month, Estonia was forced to accept Soviet military bases on its territory. In June 1940, Soviet forces occupied the country.

At first, Ralph said, daily life continued much as before. There were incidents and signs of what was coming, but then things broke open in July, on the day of a soccer match between Estonia and Latvia, one of the biggest sporting events of the year.

 

Tallinn Stadium was filled to capacity. Ralph was there with his two best friends, Eitsi and Mutti. Eitsi was twenty years old, with long dark hair. Ralph remembered Mutti as tall, handsome and somewhat vain.

 

With less than two minutes remaining, Estonia led 1–0. Displaying the Estonian flag had been prohibited, but someone had secretly distributed small flags throughout the stadium. As the clock ran down, a Soviet army band began assembling at one end of the field. Latvia was attacking in the final seconds. The crowd began counting down.

Five! Four! Three! Two! One! The gun went off.

 

Suddenly thousands of Estonian flags appeared throughout the stadium—blue, black and white. At the same time, the Soviet army band hurried onto the field and began setting up. Ralph remembered the conductor as a short, heavyset man who waved his baton as the musicians scrambled into position.

 

Then the Estonians began singing their national anthem.

 

The Soviet band began playing “The Internationale,” but the crowd drowned them out. The red-faced conductor motioned for his musicians to play louder. The crowd responded by singing louder. Ralph remembered the scene as both funny and sad. Eventually, he said, the band could hardly be heard.

 

Estonia's president Konstantin Päts had been placed under Soviet control, and the demonstration did not end at the stadium. People poured into the streets and began marching toward the presidential residence.

 

At the front of the procession, marchers carried Kristjan Palusalu on their shoulders. Palusalu was a national hero who had won gold medals in both Greco-Roman and freestyle heavyweight wrestling at the 1936 Berlin Olympics. Ralph was near the front of the march.

 

The demonstrators did not know that Soviet troops were waiting ahead with machine guns. A fence separated the marchers from the presidential grounds. When the crowd reached it, some people moved toward the fence and tried to get across. Then the shooting began.

 

Ralph had never heard automatic weapons fired before. People scattered. He took cover behind a tree and became separated from Eitsi and Mutti.

 

The crowds retreated into the streets of Tallinn, but the demonstration continued. The city's main streets filled with people shouting, singing and protesting. The Soviets ordered the Estonian police to disperse them.

 

Ralph's brother Carl, a mounted police officer in his mid-twenties, was among those sent into the streets. According to Ralph, the Estonian police made little effort to break up the demonstration. Instead, people surrounded the mounted officers. Some grabbed the horses by the legs and tried to lift them while shouting: “Long live the Estonian police! Long live the Estonian police!”

 

The fire department was called next. Fire trucks moved slowly through the streets with orders to hose down the demonstrators. The firemen wouldn’t turn on the hoses.

Finally, Soviet tanks were sent into the streets. People moved aside as the tanks approached, allowing them to pass, then closed ranks again behind them.

 

“They were only sent to frighten us,” Ralph told me. The tanks did not fire.

UPROOTED: Intro & Part One