November 17, 2014
Transfer week = brain mush week.
So I was mistaken about my companion. It's a different
person, and she actually goes home one transfer after me. So she still won't be
here long. But that's long enough to maybe not need elders!
Her name is Sister Davidson, and she has spent her entire
mission up to this point in the desert. She is freezing here in Yucaipa. It
actually has become a bit chilly. One night I even pulled out a pair of tights.
Anyway, Sister Davidson also grew up in Texas, but her senior year of high
school moved to Nigeria (dad works for Exxon). It's funny, because people here
will be like "where are you from?" and all she will say is Texas, and
I just look at her inwardly shaking my head.
Not much exciting happened this week besides transfers.
Trying to pack up, say goodbye to people, than unpack, say hello to people.
Missionaries need companions, because trying to do everything with one brain
just doesn't work. For example, at Ward Council I realized we forgot
the phone at home, and had to rush home to make it back just in time for
church to start. Woops. Hopefully I'll stabilize here soon.
I got to paint this week! I've been waiting my whole
mission to paint. And then I got to wear a full on painting body suit. People
here for some reason don't think we have grungy service clothes. But it was way
fun and actually turned out pretty well. And then they took us up to Oak Glen
to the new Angus McCurdy's, a really good burger place I keep hearing about and
keep meaning to go to. And then they came to church on Sunday. Good times.
Sister Davidson has ADD and I'm not the best at focusing
either, so Weekly Planning was....long.
Saturday we got to clean a grandfather clock for service,
and when we finished the person we were helping was like "okay, now let's
make cookies!" We both didn't know what to do, because we thought we
should probably get going, but this person wasn't a member, so we ended up
helping her start her holiday cookie making. We finally managed to leave, but
she had us come back later and pick some up. And then she gave us homemade
egg nog. I don't normally like egg nog but this was good. But there was also a
Christmas movie playing, and as soon as I finished my egg nog I had to turn to
Sister Davidson and be like "we need to leave NOW." I am seriously
fighting Christmas trunkiness, and I'm not really sure who's winning.
I wish I had more for you, but like I said, my brain has
been mush and this week was really weird.
Love ya!
Sister Tanner
Below is an article that was published in the Russian Times. Diana says that Sergey was a member of the Petrovsky branch, or congregation, that she served in from October to December of 2013.
A Mormon in the Donbass militia: ‘A volunteer’s motivation
beats that of a draftee’
Nadezhda Kevorkova is a war correspondent who has covered
the events of the Arab Spring, military and religious conflicts around the
world, and the anti-globalization movement.
Published time: November 09, 2014 19:32
Photo by Nadezhda Kevorkova
Sergey’s call sign is “Snow.” He was born in the Donbass.
He’s a businessman, a Mormon and he’s happily married. He has been in the army
for five months without getting any money.
He is one of the few soldiers who don’t hesitate to say
their names and give their pictures. He is 40. He has been fighting since May
21. He participated in the bloodiest battle near Semyonovka, which is not far
from Slavyansk. He was one of the first soldiers to receive a medal. He had a
military unit under his command. On June 21, he was wounded in the leg. Now he
is back on duty.
“I’m a Mormon, a sectarian, as they call us here, but I’m
willing to shed my blood for the Donbass,”Sergey says. Sergey, his wife and
their three kids are Mormons.
“Before I became a Mormon, I was an atheist. In the 1990s
people didn’t feel so negative about things that come from America. We used to
baptize whole families every week,” he says.
At that time the closest Mormon temple was in East Germany.
There are no Mormon temples in Russia.
“We used to go to Germany twice a year to study and to
pray,” Sergey says.
Later they built a temple in Kiev, but now he cannot take
his family there, because they may arrest him for being a militiaman and a
commander.
“We have only 150 temples around the world, but we also
build meeting houses. Before the war there were three meeting houses in
Donetsk, one in Makeyevka and one in Gorlovka. There are around 100 Mormons in
each parish in the Donbass region. We don’t drink, don’t smoke and have strong
marriages. Eighty percent of our church members are for the Donetsk Republic,
and twenty percent are against it.”According to Sergey, that’s the situation
among all Ukrainians.
“Three of our church members are also in the militia,”
Sergey says. He says he believes that not many denominations can boast of such
a high mobilization level.
“Our members gathered humanitarian aid and took it to
Semyonovka under fire through Ukrainian checkpoints.”
Before the war he had a small metal goods business, but in
the spring his business collapsed.
He hasn’t received any salary as a militiaman so far. He was
fighting, then he was wounded and now he works at the command headquarters.
“We have a rule – you don’t get any pay for your first month
of service. But, as for me, something always happens during the first month.
It’s been over a month since I’ve left the hospital, but I haven’t received any
money so far,” Sergey says. He has been serving in the army for five months
now.
Like many others in the Donbass, he sent his family and his
parents to the Crimea. They had some savings, but they ran out. He didn’t get
any compensation for his injury. He gets help from his family – his parents
receive pension payments and his wife found a temporary job.
After his injury he was assigned as personnel officer.
“I keep asking to send me to my unit, but they won’t let me.
Our commander thinks I’m valuable,” Sergey says.
He doesn’t understand why people treat him and his fellow
believers nicely, but are still suspicious toward Mormons in general.
“They took our four buildings and gave them to the militia.
We were treated as if we were American spies. At first, I would go to the
authorities and show them my injured leg, and they would back down. But now it
doesn’t work any longer. But our members didn’t get hateful. Our women
suggested that our buildings be turned into hospitals, so they could take care
of the soldiers there. But we don’t know what will happen eventually.” Sergey
hopes that his fellow believers understand why some people don’t like Mormons.
“You cannot talk to each one and explain that our relations
with the Kiev Mormons hardened after the first revolution in 2004. As far as I
know, none of them went to war,” Sergey says.
He remembered that a winner of a Biathlon European
Championship came to support the Donetsk Republic. “He is also a Mormon!” he
says.
Sergey says that the Salt Lake City Central Mission doesn’t
interfere in their followers’ political life. The president of their mission,
an American, left when the situation began to heat up. Currently Mormons meet
on Sundays in their homes. Out of 100 Mormons, only 30 still remain in the
city.
Sergey says that not only Mormons are in a difficult
situation; the prayer house of the Pentecostal group ‘Word of Life’ has also
been taken by the militia forces, though some of their members also volunteered
to fight. In Slavyansk, a pastor was killed.
“I know a guy named ‘Gross’ from the Vostok battalion.”
Sergey tries to call him, but the telephone connection with those at the front
line is bad.
He hopes that sooner or later the attitude toward Mormons
will change, not just because he is a member of the self-defense forces. “Our
leaders send millions of dollars to help the Donbass. People know about it.”
Sergey thinks that there are no unbelievers on the
battlefield, as for differences in their beliefs, they don’t matter much for
soldiers.
“After three days, everybody puts on crosses, icons or
amulets. I shall never forget my first night in the trenches, how I was praying
there. You can find all kinds of religions here at the front, even Rodnovery
(Slavic native faith groups – RT)". Sergey recalls his first day at the
front: “It seemed like a time machine had taken me back to 1942. Here I am,
sitting in the trenches with my rifle against tanks.”
He still wonders how the militia forces managed to stand
against much stronger government forces.“Near Semyonovka, there were 300 to 400
of the militiamen fighting with machine guns against 120 units of Ukrainian armored
vehicles.”
He thinks that at the front line believers understand each
other better than in ordinary life.
“One day I lectured the soldiers against swearing, together
with an Orthodox priest. We have no icons or crosses, but I feel bad when they
start swearing in front of their relics. Since then we’ve agreed not to swear
in the trenches. Father Anatoly thanked me for the lecture and gave me an
icon.”
It’s too bad not all the soldiers have a chance to listen to
such lectures. Many of them swear because they feel it’s a sign of the macho
world. Sometimes you see a soldier wearing crosses, but he swears like a
sailor.
When you talk with someone who has been at war, the talk
inevitably touches on other conflict zones.
“I am pro-Palestinian. I’ve been to Israel, and I wasn’t
impressed at all – all the sanctuaries are commercialized, and their politics
is just wrong,” says Sergey.
For him, fighting for Donbass is the right cause. He points
out that such a great number of people willing to die for it is all the proof
he needs.
Almost all of his fellow combatants have been wounded. On
June 3, nine got killed in the most fierce fight they’ve been in so far.
“We were up against 240-mm mortars, howitzers, tanks, and
Grad rocket launchers. And all we had was these nine guys from the antitank
detachment with the 1944 issue guns. Their number 3, a Rodnover guy, went to
fetch the ammo, and by the time he got back all of them were dead. He used up
all the ammo he brought and hit a tank,” Sergey said.
He does not agree with the principle some trying to apply –
that it’s Ukraine vs. Russia or Ukrainians vs. Russians.
He recalls volunteers from Kiev who came to join the Donetsk
militia:
“There was one guy, his call sign was ‘Mole.’ He also took
out a tank. He was always very neat, even in battle he was tidy. My commanding
officer Cedar is also from Kiev, he is now back after a time in hospital, he
was badly wounded.”
Wartime storytelling generates all sorts of fantastic
stories. For example, Sergey says, there was a 16-year-old from Kiev, with the
call sign “Vandal.” They say when he was 14 he witnessed some Kiev protesters
throw down a Russian flag and stomp on it – and he snatched it from under them
to protect it. And they say Putin sent this youth a watch as a thank you.
He continues, “Our medic is a true hero. He retrieved so
many wounded under fire. He used to say, “It’s my Orthodox Christian Jihad.”
Sergey grew up with the values which were typical for Soviet
youths – believing that being a soldier is honorable and that his homeland will
never have to suffer from another war. Both his parents were deployed with the
Red Army contingent to Hungary. His mother was a teacher of English, and father
a communications officer, taught technical discipline to the soldiers. When the
family returned to Donetsk, both parents went on to teach at a military school.
So for Sergey to want to become an officer was a natural choice. In 1991, he
enrolled in the Donetsk military school, but as the Soviet Union dissolved the
same year, Sergey decided to quit.
“I did pass all the qualification exams, honestly! I was in
the last class at the school, prior to dissolution. I didn’t serve in the army
either. And yet you see, I ended up fighting in a war anyway,” says Sergey.
He says that more than half of the militiamen here haven’t
even served in the army.
“In action, you learn very quickly,” he says. “The Donetsk
militia has had a total of 16,000 volunteers – and that’s against the 30,000
Ukrainian troops. But you see, a volunteer’s motivation beats that of a
draftee. In my unit, I had two fathers with their sons join us. And a family of
a husband and wife.”
According to his data, and since he works with the staff he
does know what he’s talking about, 70 percent of the militiamen are natives of
Donbass, 20 percent are from the rest of Ukraine including its western regions,
and 10 percent are volunteers from Russia.
“On the average, those volunteers from Russia who have had
an experience of army service are much better prepared than the rest. We also
had some outstanding fighters. For example ‘Motorola,’ the commander of my
battalion, is a natural-born military leader. He is only 5 feet tall, skinny,
but his leadership qualities and his tactical mind are unbelievable, that’s
something you can’t just learn in a military school.”
“Motorola” was the first to think of posting video reports
on the Internet so that people could put a face to the militias.
Among these video reports was one called, “A Mormon in the
militia.”
“It began as a joke,” says Sergey. “It wasn’t for publicity.
I’ve never been to the USA. I fight for Donbass because this is my home.”
The statements, views and opinions expressed in this column
are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of RT.
