Letters That Keep Memories Alive
Letters from Nazi forced laborers reach families in Makariv
They have been hidden away in archives for over 80 years – letters written by Ukrainian forced laborers who were deported to Germany during the Second World War. Many of them never reached their families. The initiative “NeprOSTi lysty” – “Difficult Letters” – is bringing these documents back to light. Since 2018, the project has been presenting symbolic copies of the letters to relatives, often ending decades of uncertainty.
As part of the H-Files project, the Arolsen Archives and the Ukrainian NGO After Silence are working together to preserve and digitize endangered collections in local archives and make them accessible to people across the world. Hanna Lehun, who works for the Arolsen Archives, visited museum director Vitalii Heds in Makariv. Together they discussed the letters, the reactions of the families, and the important role small local archives play in preserving historical memory.
They began by talking about the “NeprOSTi lysty” project – “Difficult Letters”. It was launched in May 2018 by the Makariv Museum of Local History in partnership with the State Archives of the Kyiv Region and the Ukrainian campaign “Pamjat Natsii” (“The Memory of the Nation”). The project managers are Vitalii Heds, Sofia Kameneva, and Olexander Alferov.
Between 1942 and 1943, forced laborers from Eastern Europe sent letters to their families. Many were never delivered.
Over 50,000 letters have been found in connection with the project, and around 1,000 copies have been presented to people from Makariv and other villages in the Kyiv region over the years.
The letters written by forced laborers from Ukraine are powerful personal testimonies. They’re also important historical documents that help us learn more about the history of Nazi forced labor. How did you first come across them?
It all started as a personal story. I was researching my own family history and I heard that there was a collection of these letters in the State Archives of the Kyiv region. Three women from my family had been deported to Germany as forced laborers. I was looking for information about them and I actually found some letters written by women from my home village. One of the first letters I came across had been written by these three women. In the letter they described where they were working and how they were doing. They enclosed a photo. Today, we think this is probably the last photo that shows all three of them together. I was allowed to take a photo of the letter and I showed it to my mother. I found her reaction very moving – and she encouraged me to continue my research. That’s how it all started.
The “NeprOSTi lysty” initiative grew from there. How did the project develop?
We weren’t allowed to work with the letters at first because personal documents are protected for 75 years in Ukraine. But in 2018, the archive contacted me again. Enough time had passed, and we could finally begin.
We made copies of the letters and gave them to relatives of the people who had written them. The originals had to stay in the archive. Funding was difficult at first, but the municipality of Makariv supported us, and later other partners joined in. We started organizing events where we presented copies of the letters to families in Makariv and the surrounding villages. Gradually, the project became more well-known.
By March 2020, we had held around 60 events and returned around 3,000 letters. But the coronavirus pandemic brought our work to an abrupt halt. And just when we were getting started again, Russia launched its full-scale invasion. All over again, we had to ask ourselves whether we could continue. But since 2022, the project has taken on more significance for many people.
Why did the war affect the project’s significance?
Because we’re seeing history under attack all over again and witnessing attempts to rewrite it. Following the Russian attacks in our region, we found the filtration file of an “Ostarbeiterin” (“Eastern worker”) from the Lviv region in some belongings that Russian soldiers left behind in one village. It was unclear how this document had ended up there. But for us, it was a sign. It told us that we mustn’t allow others to narrate or distort our history. Since then, there’s been a great deal of interest in the letters. Local communities turn to us, relatives come to the events. We have 20 or 30 letters for some villages, for others we might have 200 or 300. Around 200 people gathered in a school for one of our events. That was really special.
Do you often manage to find relatives of the people who wrote the letters?
Yes, very often. Since 2018, there have even been nine cases where we were able to return letters to the people who actually wrote them. Sadly, they’ve all since passed away. Today, we usually give the letters to the children or grandchildren of the people who wrote them. Sometimes their families find out about the fate of their loved ones for the first time through these letters. Thanks to the Arolsen Archives, we even managed to find two people’s gravesites in Germany. The families concerned had never received any letters or had any news of their relatives. It was only through these documents that we were able to reconstruct parts of their stories.
Is there any case you remember particularly well?
There are lots of them! One of the stories that stands out in my mind is about Maria Harkavenko. On her 100th birthday, we brought her three letters that she had written as a young woman while she was in Germany. Her family asked us to read them out loud. But when I started reading, Maria Harkavenko interrupted me; she recited the letter word for word without even looking at it. Her son was astonished and said: “She can’t remember what she ate for dinner last night, but she knows this letter by heart.” Moments like that show how deeply these experiences affected people.
When did historians and archivists in Ukraine start working with these letters?
The letters started to attract more attention in the late 1980s in connection with compensation claims. Many former victims of persecution turned to archives to obtain documents that would support their claims. However, the letters were not recognized as sufficient proof. And after that, they were largely forgotten again. Some years later, historian Tetiana Pastushenko began researching the topic. And then I began to work with them more systematically too.
Your collection has become part of the H-Files project. What does this collaboration mean for your work?
Being part of this project is very important to us. It has enabled us to digitize our collection and give copies to After Silence and the Arolsen Archives. We also received a flatbed scanner. Technical equipment like this is essential for our work.
When we return letters to families, they often bring photos, letters, or other documents to show us. In the past, sometimes all I could do was take photos of them with my cell phone. Now, we can scan them on the spot. That helps to make sure they don’t get lost. This is particularly important during wartime, because documents can disappear very quickly.
Thanks to the H-Files project, these materials are not only being preserved, they’re also being made accessible – to researchers all over the world and to anyone with an interest in local history.
What makes small local collections like yours so important?
Our collection is small and perhaps not as well known as the holdings of larger archives. But that’s actually what makes it so valuable. These documents were preserved in local communities. They tell local stories, and they give a voice to people who often remain invisible. Today, many people have heard of Babi Yar in Kyiv. But there were many other lesser-known sites of persecution and shootings in the Kyiv region. In Makariv, the first murders of Jews took place as early as July 1941. To this day, we still don’t know the exact location of these shootings. Because of that, there’s no appropriate memorial at the site.
Local collections can help raise awareness of these stories. They show that history isn’t abstract. It’s about real people, real families, and real places.
Makariv itself experienced terrible violence in 2022. How do these recent events impact your work at the museum?
The events of 2022 are a central focus of our museum today. Civilians were killed in our community, some of them were children. Many families lost loved ones. These stories are very painful and still quite raw. So for us, our work on the past is closely linked to the present. We see how important it is to preserve testimonies, remember names, and document crimes. That’s just as important for the victims of Nazi persecution as it is for victims of violence today.
What does your involvement in the H-Files project mean to you personally?
Being part of this project has shown me that we aren’t doing this work alone. We’re part of a team with international partners and other initiatives. Together we’re doing something very important: we’re keeping the memories of the people who wrote the letters alive. That gives me strength and shows me that this project really matters.
