The beatings were associated with a series of other ordeals afterwards: you would be forced to sit on the side of the bunk bed and forbidden to sleep or you would sit with your arms stretched up – if you lowered them, they would start hitting you… There are things one cannot tell. Not because they’re embarrassing of humiliating, but because they destroy you as a human being altogether. It felt like it was the end of the world, it was apocalyptic. The beatings to the soles weren’t easy to endure: they would hold you down and hit you on the soles with their clubs. And Ţurcanu would throw you down and jump up and down on you with his feet; he would hit you in the liver… those were terrifying knocks. You didn’t get to feel how brutal they were, because you would pass out from the pain.
After we entered the room, we saw some students who had books, on the right side of the bunk beds. This was extremely unusual, I had never seen such a thing in prison. They had books on subjects of communist propaganda and I recall that one of the most important was Anton Semionovici Makarenko’s “Flags on the Tower”. I thought that they had loosened up the repressive mechanism and that they would allow us to read. The hell they did, because the second day, at Ţurcanu’s order, the ones we found in the room aligned, formed a passage and started to hit the others with their clubs, broom sticks and cudgels. At first, there was a certain response from the victims, but they were all soon beaten up (myself included) until there was no answer and we started to follow their orders, which consisted in a series of painful ordeals.
I was beaten up for about a month. After these beatings, they would send you in different other cells and they would call you from time to time: “Well, did you think about things, you bandit?”. And if they found out something about you from another student’s declaration: “Were you trying to hide this from us?” or “Did you lie on purpose?”. And then you would get another beating. Some of the things were devilish, fiendish, apocalyptical, because there was no way you could resist. There was no way out of this mess. Some went so far as to kill themselves, in the beginning, jumping through the hole between the stairs. That is why, later on, they put wire nettings on every floor, to prevent other suicides.
N-ajungeai să mai simţi tăria loviturilor, pentru că leşinai de durere.
Gheorghe Stănică
zdroj: Arhiva Consiliului Naţional pentru Studierea Arhivelor Securităţii, Arhiva Centrului de Studii în Istorie Contemporană
zdroj: Arhiva Consiliului Naţional pentru Studierea Arhivelor Securităţii, Arhiva Centrului de Studii în Istorie Contemporană
Stáhnout obrázek
Gheorghe Stănică s-a născut la 23 aprilie 1922 în Giurgiu, în sudul României. Simţindu-se urmărit de Securitate la începutul lui 1948 şi aflând de o serie de arestări efectuate printre cunoscuţii săi, a stat ascuns timp de un an şi trei luni. În cele din urmă a fost arestat la 17 august 1949 şi condamnat la 4 ani de închisoare. A trecut prin mai multe închisori şi lagăre de muncă forţată: Jilava, Piteşti, Poarta Albă, Peninsula, Galeş. La începutul lui 1950 a fost torturat în închisoare, în cadrul „reeducării prin tortură“ din penitenciarul Piteşti. S-a eliberat în 27 mai 1954 şi a absolvit Facultatea de Construcţii la 44 de ani. A fost căsătorit şi a avut două fete. A murit în aprilie 2012 în Bucureşti.
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