The Latvian Connection

This page was reviewed 13 April 2009

Written in 1998

This September I visited Riga, in Latvia, and met Djenisa Stankus for the first time. Janis, as I call her, is my second cousin and the meeting was the culmination of several years of searching for each other. It was an emotional experience.

Janis Stankus This is a photograph of Janis, who lives in a suburb of Riga, in Latvia.

In researching one's family history, it is the unknown titbits of information which are often the most tantalising. In this case mother told me that one of her father's brothers had emigrated to Australia in the early 1900s and his daughter had married a Latvian or Estonian shoolteacher and moved back to her husband's homeland. Mother knew nothing more. I was intrigued. The Foreign Office suggested that I contacted the Salvation Army and one or two other organisations, but noone could help, mainly because I hadn't a surname to give them. The matter may well have rested there for the duration, if it hadn't been for a meeting with William Gillett, a distant cousin. He recalled an incident in 1941, when he was at boarding school in Hull and the Head Master stopped him as they were going out of morning assembly.

'Well, Gillett', he said 'You are quite famous, I hear'.

'Yes, sir, thankyou sir,' he replied, for that was the way in which one spoke to authority figures in those days. Later William heard that the Hull Daily Mail was reporting that Amy Gillett had made a propaganda broadcast from Germany, in which she mentioned her Hull relatives.

Interest was renewed and when I had a chance to travel to Hull, I spent a day in the Local Studies Library. The name index had several Gillett references, including one for Amy. I ordered the microfilm and scrolled it on to the correct date and found nearly a whole page devoted to the broadcast.

Things might have rested there if I hadn't rechecked the name-index in the library on my next visit to Hull several years later. To my amazement there was a new card among the dozen or so cards which I had seen in the past: a letter about a Latvian lady asking be put in touch with any descendants of Richard Gillet, my great grandfather!

Standing in the middle of the room holding the card, it was difficult to control my emotions. I quickly ordered the letter from the stores and couldn't resist telling the librarian all about it. Luckily the library was nearly empty, so I wasn't shushed!

Frustration followed, because the letter was only an extract and the staff wouldn't show me the original 'because of the data protection act'. Back at my B & B I wrote a letter to the writer and presented it to the library the next day, to be included with a letter which they were going to write. I was in Hull for another two days and during that time I managed to buttonhole several of the staff and ask different questions about what the original said. One told me that it came from the 'FCO' which I later found to stand for Foreign and Commonwealth Office.

However, I had to contain my impatience and it was two or three weeks before a letter arrived from Sue Percy who was wife of the second in command of the British Consul's office in Riga. She was as excited as I was and we arranged to meet for lunch in Guildford, so she could tell me all about Janis and Latvian life. It all sounded very grim. The old age pension was only about £100 a month and it was hard work to survive. Janis had told Sue that she had got all the potatoes and cabbage in from their allotment, so they wouldn't starve over the winter. In England this sounds like a joke, but in Latvia it was for real. Over lunch Sue presented me with a large book of photographs of Riga and I was fascinated by the old buildings and the skyline of onion-domed churches. I couldn't wait to get there and to meet Janis and to see the country. But first I wanted to write to Janis and to hear directly from her.

Long letters were exchanged over the next months, with questions asked and answered. Janis wrote almost perfect English and had, in fact, spoken only English until she was four or five years old. Her mother had taken some time to settle in Latvia and accustom herself to the exceedingly cold winters and to learn the language. They had moved to Riga in 1924, soon after Latvia gained its independence, when Janis was three years old. As a foreigner her father was unable to work as a school teacher in Australia, so he was glad to return to his profession in Latvia and became headmaster of a school outside Riga and a respected leader of his local community.

They had owned a farm to the south east of the country, but when the Russians came in the late 1930s this was 'bought' from them in return for some certificates. As I understand it, these certificates were meant to be exchanged for government (or other) shares. A lot of people did not want to buy shares, so kept the certificates and today these are worth a fraction of their original value. I think I worked out that hers are now worth only a few hundred pounds.

When the Germans took over they were seen as liberators, because life under the Russians had been so harsh. Janis says that life went on as usual for most people who were not Jewish or of German origin. Many of the latter were forcibly repatriated to Germany, even though they had lived in Latvia for several generations, and although they were promised equivalent accommodation in Germany, this rarely materialised. During my visit to Latvia the car journeys were punctuated by the occasional place being pointed out where General so-and-so was shot, or where a massacre took place.

Janis was a nurse at a hospital in Riga when the Russians were in power. When the Russians came she was asked why she had been willing to work for the Germans. She replied that she had had to earn some money and it was the only work which she knew. Otherwise what was she to do? Her two nursing friends had given different answers which had not been accepted and they were sent to Siberia to work. She never heard from them again.

In the winter they live in their flat in a rather grim concrete block. I stayed in theirs for three nights while I was there and it was a privilege to do so. There are lots of these blocks in this particular suburb of Riga, which were built by the Russians in the 1950s. The flat consisted of a tiny entrance hall, kitchen and bathroom, a small sitting room and a long narrow bedroom. To save space they sleep on converted sofas and chairs and the bed-clothes are piled into a corner of the room. The windows have no curtains and I doubt if it has been painted or repapered since it was built.

However, their hospitality couldn't have been bettered and I was taken out for two memorable days in the countryside in their 1983 Russian car. At first I was concerned about Alphonse's driving, as he would suddenly veer to the left or right as he drove along an almost deserted straight road! It transpired that he was avoiding the quite enormous potholes which were difficult to see.

Segunda We drove along roads fringed with acres of pine forests and glimpses of lakes between the trees. Alphonse spoke no English, but was incredibly patient and waited in the car while Janis walked me around various tourist attractions. These included part of the war cemetery (a very moving experience), the Open Air Museum ethnographic park where we went Memorial Parkm into reconstructed farms and churches from old Latvia, a sculpture park with a mediaeval castle where I climbed the tower and looked out over forests for as far as the eye can see and one or two museums. The latter is quite rightly nick-named Little Switzerland.

Conventa Setaz After three nights I took the bus into Riga carrying a minimum of luggage and walked around the various hotels which I had seen recommended in tourist guides in England. One which I thought looked promising was a B & B whose name translated to Friends and Family, but it was full, so I went up-market and opted for the quite delightful Konventa Seta. It is in the old part of town, to which traffic is not allowed and consists of several renovated blocks of rooms, with a central reception room and dining room. It couldn't have been faulted and was fully up to continental standards with bath (and a plug!) and shower, plus a frig. and cooker. There wasn't a sign of a kettle or any crockery but, with a little bit of persuasion, I managed to persuade the receptionist to find a brand new stainless steel saucepan and some crockery. There was a very pleasant small bar and 'lounge' and the salad with Roquefort dressing, which I ordered for my first lunch (£3), lasted for no less than three meals. They allowed me to take it to my room where I kept it in the 'frig!

I was lucky to find that the weekly morning tour of Riga was the morning after my arrival. It lasted 3.5 hours and was a very well-spent six pounds! Eight of us were taken in a minibus to the Art Nouveau district and saw some really beautifully-restored old buildings. Later we walked around old Riga and the excellent guide told us a lot about the history of the city, which celebrates its 800th anniversary in 2001. There is a very full program of rebuilding and restoration in progress and it is interesting to see the unrenovated buildings alongside the newly painted ones. At every street corner it seemed that there was a small ensemble playing Mozart - all very atmospheric.

I had arranged to meet Janis on the Sunday morning at the English Church, having stayed in Riga for two nights. Very few people spoke English, so I was rather glad not to have to find the right bus and pay the correct fare, even though I had been given exact directions on what to do. It was harvest festival, and there was a very enthusiastic congregation. Obviously a very active church. The service began and ended with really beautiful 'cello solos. Afterwards we went downstairs to the crypt for coffee and then Janis took me around several churches and museums which I hadn't yet seen. We arrived back at the flat about tea-time and had a relaxing evening, chatting over supper, Janis's grand-daughter was there too. She is a lovely girl of 19. Very intelligent and a good conversationalist, speaking almost perfect English. She is currently working in an office run by an English lady and spends most of her free time looking after children of a French family. She is, I understand, saving up to go to University.

The following morning I was driven to the airport and bidden a sad farewell by Janis and Alphonse. I had insisted that I wanted to wait for the 'plane by myself. The airport is very modern and has lots of shops, so I had a pleasant wander around before buying some postcards to write and post home!! These were the first I had seen in Riga! Even the hotel did not have any. Time soon passed and it seemed no time atall before the 'plane arrived and we were air-born. Riga Airways were even organised with my gluten-free diet requirements. I was most impressed. I had two seats to myself at the front of the no-smoking area and was able to spread out. All in all a fascinating and full week.

See you again, Latvia

PS - Did I hear you ask what became of Amy Gillett, Janis's mother? And what was behind her broadcast for the Germans in 1941? Amy lived on until 1954. They never went back to their farm-house, but it sounds as though they could take possession of their land, if they wanted to. And yet Janis said they had sold it, so I am not sure about this. They did return there some years after the war to dig up several items, including a tea set, which Amy had buried before the Russians came. Although they had measurements of where to find it, it took some time because the farmhouse had been bombed out of existence. They had given up when Janis said that she heard a voice telling her to have one more try. So she dug her spade in a few feet from where they had been digging - and there it was. The cavity had been lined with planks of wood and some of these had caved in with the bomb blasts. Some of the crockery was broken but there were some unbroken pieces and these have pride of place in a glass-fronted cupboard at the flat.

The broadcast?

'You know, I don't think mother would have said that about being ashamed to be British', said Janis, as we walked around the war cemetary.

'She was always so proud of her heritage, and passed this on to me.'

Two days later, in Riga, Janis pointed out the building which was used for radio broadcasts during the war. Apparently she, herself, had written an essay about the problems of teenagers in war-time and had been invited to read it on the radio. She doesn't remember anything about her mother making a broadcast, and she certainly never went to Bremen to be part of Goebell's media circus, as the Hull paper had reported. She thinks that her mother may have been asked to write about herself, but was never asked to speak. It seems almost certain that the article was used as a basis for a propaganda program to be spoken by someone else, purporting to be Amy Gillett of Hull. We will never know.

Sheila R Weston 25 November 1998