CAPTAIN SVEN·ERIK LJUNGHOLM, serving in Russia, discovers a remarkable 'Salvationist' leader who has maintained 'the Army' in spite of imprisonment and proscription
'THE GENERAL is on the line and wants to speak to you," said the office secretary. I took the receiver and after a moment of anxious reflection answered, "Yes, General Burrows, Captain Ljungholm speaking, and a good morning from all of us here in Leningrad." (General Burrows had departed Leningrad a few days earlier following the re-opening of the work in Russia) However, instead of General Burrows' voice a man replied in Russian: "Kapitan, this is General Vladimir Mikhailovich, Armeija Spasenja, Yalta, the Ukraine." At first I thought it some hoax, but after a few minutes of conversation I realized that this was indeed a "general" in every sense of the word, even if self-appointed and assuming command in an area made famous for meetings conducted by heads of state rather than by The Salvation Army!
As the "general" spoke he shared not only his experience as a Salvation Army soldier, sworn in at the St. Petersburg VII Corps in 1918, but also a hitherto unknown segment of our history. He had been arrested and exiled for 20 years in Siberia due to his Salvation Army activities during the Second World War. My interest and admiration piqued, and needing a "day away," my wife and I decided to visit this unknown hero. As my schedule was quite demanding I opted for a flight the next week as I would be in the south of Russia in Volgograd researching an outbreak of HIV in a childrens hospital with 238 toddlers infected. On arrival at the Volgograd airport I was not totally surprised to learn, after a delay of several hours, that my flight was delayed until "tomorrow sometime, however, if you wait until this afternoon, we may get you on yesterday's flight." On eventually landing at Yalta's regional airport in Semfiropol and walking towards the crowded outdoor luggage claim area I spied the authoritative imposing figure of a man who could be no one but the "general" himself.
It was an emotional and gripping moment for me, not only to meet the living proof of the adage that "old soldiers never die," but also to shake the hand of a man who had served in St. Petersburg at the side of Adjutant and Mrs. Otto Ljungholm, my grandparents.
The General, his Adjutant and translator... (note the crest on the General's breast pocket!)
Accompanying the "general" was his driver and "adjutant" of the last 40 years. The 1-1/2 hour car journey to the "general's" headquarters was made considerably longer due to the frequent stops on the mountainous road to refill the boiling radiator. Once in Yalta it was straight to "headquarters," a portion of the "general's" ramshackle home high on the hillside overlooking the Black Sea and Yalta. He led us out on the veranda and there stretched himself out as his hand went into the branches of the tree and plucked loose some fresh figs for my wife and me. "It's a biblical fruit, and good for you," insisted the "general," as he tossed us each our very first fresh fig.
Then it was to the "office" for the official welcome. He presented us to his wife, and handed to us his homemade but neatly printed SA business card. After a few moments of discussion the phone rang, and neither my wife nor I was surprised that the natural telephone greeting was, "The Salvation Army, the General speaking"!
On returning to the table he shared that part of his story his wife allows, the part that is not "too painful to tell or to listen to."
The 'General' had begun holding SA meetings in the local Ascension Church and recruiting potential soldiers...Sven Ljungholm
Former Officer
USA
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