Police were stationed around these streets and did not admit people who were poorly dressed or had shabby-looking vehicles. I walked along the main street and was amazed to see that the storefront windows were full of all sorts of merchandise. In those days all the stores were empty, and one could buy only poor quality cheesecakes and tooth powder. I went into one store where I knew the sales clerk and asked if I could buy something. He told me that nothing was for sale. For what, then? Maybe they were filming a movie…

At that time, there were only a few personal cars in the city. They belonged to the government and were used by big party bosses. These automobiles were cruising back and forth to create the impression that our streets were as busy as any abroad. A few weeks later I learned that this had been a sham, a stage play of ‘the good life’, especial¬ly arranged for a few hours for Mr. Herriot’s visit. This spectacle had a historical precedent—the ‘Potemkin village’ of Catherine the Great’s time.

If the villages were condemned to die of starvation, then the city was half starved. The retail stores were empty. Rationed bread was doled out in meager doses. Only heavy laborers got one kilogram per day. Civil servants got 400 grams, and depend¬ents received from one to two hundred grams. That bread, black as earth, moldy with all sorts of additives, was the staple food.

Many in the city died of starvation. They were old, single pensioners. They received a very small pension—thirty rubles per month—on which one could live maybe one or two days. The state started selling the so-called ‘commercial bread’ at forty rubles for two-and-one-half pounds.

The ‘dekulakization’ of the urban population progressed hand-in-hand with that of the village. The only difference (between the city and the village) was that the city dwellers were allowed to hang on to their lives, while the peasants were put to death by this criminally organized starvation.

The extortion of gold and capital from those strata of the population that might pos¬sess valuables was not sufficient for the officially privileged workers or for those who had not struck it rich in the ‘prison gold mines’. So, it was arranged to sell food in ex¬change for gold, silver, and American dollars. Food products of the same inferior quality as before were sold in a special type of store called a torgsin’ (an acronym for ‘trade with foreigners’) at inflated, pre-World War I prices. The best quality products, at the lowest prices, were sold to the high-ranking party workers in the closed distribu¬tion stores. So-called ‘cooperative commissions’ were organized to supply the basic needs of workers of various institutions. These commissions were able to obtain at least some things from outside of the Ukraine, by legal and illegal means. Many of these goods came from the Caucasus, which was closest by sea. Cafeterias were set up at places of employment, where it was possible to get some low-calorie soup during working hours.

There were a few instances of opposition to the export of ’surplus’ goods. At the port of Odessa, the shippers refused to load a shipment of fattened swine that was des¬tined to be exported. The shippers were suppressed, and the Red Army soldiers came and loaded the ship.

It is interesting to note that around Odessa there were many villages inhabited by Germans. No one in that population starved, as their grain quotas were not draconian. This is a question that has not been addressed