Tens of thousands of Mennonites died prematurely in the 1930s and -40s under Stalin and Hitler. It is a loss to families and the larger Mennonite community not to record or learn from their stories. Without the dignity of a funeral or obituary, the risk that they become “dust in the wind” is real. This is an obituary for my uncle. His is a difficult story; though he died a soldier around his twenty-first birthday, I want to piece that together with a few more episodes of his life in such a way, that his story can spur further thought about the larger Mennonite story in the twentieth century. Heinrich Franz Bräul was born in 1924 in Marienthal, Molotschna. He was six when their small farm was collectivized. Their church in Pordenau—literally across the ditch that separated their yard from the neighbouring village—was shuttered in 1933 when he was nine. His younger brother Walter recalled their father’s determination to teach the children some scripture in the home on Sundays, but the
Vignettes by Arnold Neufeldt-Fast