Walking. Gossip. Travel.

Tag: KGB Museum

  • Vilnius – Museum of Occupations and Freedom Fights

    The Museum of Occupations and Freedom Fights changed its name just a few weeks ago, having previously been called the Museum of Genocide Victims. It’s a complex name for what many people seem to just call the KGB Museum, since it’s located in a building which was the headquarters of the KGB for fifty years.

    Many Russian museums employ middle-aged or elderly women to protect the galleries, and there have now even been displays around the world based around these guards. They have a reputation for sitting and looking miserable, but they’re actually usually really proud of the artwork which they protect.

    Anyway, in Latvia and Lithuania this still happens to a certain degree, but there seems to have been a real change to a more positive customer service approach. Every museum I’ve visited in these countries has a friendly staff member at the ticket desk, but this museum seems to have maintained a staff member at the desk who seemed quite disappointed to see visitors.

    The uniform of a member of the Soviet political police.

    I found this really interesting, it’s the 1975 and 1976 guest registration book from the Gintaras Hotel in the city. The hotel, which was located near the main railway station, would have also been monitored closely by the KGB and their guests often kept under observation if they were deemed a risk. I’m fortunate that the Ibis doesn’t keep such a book, or at least it doesn’t to my knowledge.

    In the middle of the photo is a prayer book which was made by female prisoners at a labour camp.

    And in the middle of this photo is a rosary which is made from bread, dating to 1954.

    This is a 1991 diary on the left, which is when Lithuania became independent and the KGB quickly left, and a telephone in use at the same time on the right.

    The phone which was used by the chairman of the KGB in Lithuania.

    An example of the secret camera which was used by KGB agents. It looks quite clunky and obvious, but the lens is hidden in a button and would be hard to spot.

    This is the grave marker, complete with dead moss on it, of an exiled woman sent to the Krasnoyarsk region of the Soviet Union. Her son later brought his mother’s remains, and this cross, back to Lithuania for her body to be reburied.

    This is a good idea, there’s an observation room and a bank of black and white screens where you can watch other visitors in the museum.

    This is labelled as the execution chamber, with what is meant to be an area that was investigated now left with a glass floor. The model of the execution chamber rooms doesn’t coincide with the actual floor layout, which I found confusing. There’s also very little information in this section of the museum to try and help visitors interpret what they’re seeing.

    Bullets in the wall of the execution chamber.

    The toilets facilities in the cells.

    One of two corridors of cells, most of which have been left unfurnished and most can be visited.

    One of the cell doors.

    The inside of one of the cells looking in.

    The inside of one of the cells looking out.

     

    The door of the padded cell and the interior, a place where prisoners who went mad from the torture were placed. It’s a grim feeling looking at this cell, although to be fair, none of the cells really emit an aura of positivity.

    This solitary confinement cell was filled with water in the bottom section and the prisoner would have to stand on the small circular raised platform and try not to fall into the water.

    Another solitary confinement cell, which had en-suite facilities.

    The duty officer’s room, with the 1975 security system still in place.

    These cells were known as the “boxes” and they were where the new prisoners were placed. It wasn’t until the 1960s when the KGB decided that a little luxury needed to be brought into these proceedings, and they put in a seat to sit on.

    The building in which the museum is located has a fascinating, and bleak, history, so a visit is recommended. The necessity to change the name from the Museum of Genocide Victims was really because there is very little mention of the Jewish lives which were lost, and much more of a focus on the Lithuanian resistance fighters. That’s an entirely interesting story on its own, but I’m still unsure why they just don’t call this the KGB Museum.

    There’s a lot to see in the museum, although the execution cell set-up is confusing, and the staff member at the reception desk looks like every visitor is trampling on her dead cat. Anyway, the positives of the whole visit greatly exceed the negatives, and it tells the often forgotten story of the Lithuanian resistance really well.

  • Riga – Corner House (KGB Museum)

    I booked a tour of the Corner House on-line a few days ago as I had read that it is closing in two days. It transpired that the building that the Corner House is in is being renovated into offices and apartments, so the ground floor museum has to close at the same time. They are hoping that the museum can re-open in the future, but they’re not sure yet.

    The transformation into apartments might be lovely as the building has some considerable historic interest. But, there is a little problem, which is that the building was the home of the KGB and around 1,000 of its staff. The building has tens of interrogation rooms where violence was used against those supposed to have been critical of the regime. What a lovely place to live that would be….

    The Corner House building is large and sprawling, but the public would only have been allowed into one small room. This was a reception room on the corner of the building and it was primarily where people could drop off messages about enemies of the people in a wooden box. The state encouraged people to report on others and the reports were taken very seriously.

    For those who had friends or relatives imprisoned, it was also possible to drop food off or to leave a written message asking what was happening. It isn’t known how often the food would be received by the prisoner and whether or not the KGB wrote back to interested friends and relatives.

    An interior corridor, which was once used by KGB staff and is now the way into the main hall where there is an exhibition about the building. There has been very little modernisation of the building since the KGB left it in 1991, so it felt like an authentic experience.

    The building was constructed in 1912 and it was intended to house both shops and apartments. The original reception area, which would have been visible to passer-bys, was left unchanged by the KGB and was used as an entrance for their senior staff. The rest of the building was heavily modified and the original decoration has been lost.

    A plan of the building’s ground floor.

    One of the cells on the ground floor and this could take up to five people at its peak. Access to these cells today is only by a guided tour, but we were allowed to walk freely around these different cells. There are an identical set of cells which are in the building’s basement, but these have flooded and their use was stopped in the 1960s.

    One of the interrogation rooms, with a rubber baton which was of the type which might have been used on prisoners. The chairs were also screwed to the floor to stop prisoners attacking the interrogators.

    Another cell, with prisoners staying here from anything from a few weeks to as long as two years. The guide said that the prisoners would then be deported or executed, although I do rather wonder whether they really did that to every prisoner.

    On that note, the guide was excellent and she was really enthusiastic about the whole tour and its content. She mentioned how her family had been impacted by the KGB and the secret services, but she added that a Russian family this week had called her a liar and said everything was a lie. There wasn’t much that I doubted about her ninety minutes of tour as it seemed to fit with what I’ve seen elsewhere.

    The inside of a cell door and the cells were kept brightly lit to try and make the prisoners feel uncomfortable and oppressed. The cells were deliberately kept overcrowded and the toilet facilities were limited to a bucket in the corner of the room which was only emptied once per day.

    The exercise yard, where prisoners were allowed once every ten days for a short walk. The prisoners weren’t allowed to make any noise as there were neighbouring apartments and a music school where residents might be able to hear them. A wooden roof was added to one part of the exercise yard in a bid to stop neighbours from seeing in, but they were reports that children could hear the torturing taking place.

    The prisoners would sleep on the metal beds at night, but would then put them up against the wall during the daytime. The cells were also kept at a hot temperature to make the conditions even more intolerable.

    The prisoners would receive meals three times a day, but they were of a poor quality and the food was deliberately left unwashed or was spoiled. The meals didn’t have enough calories to support the prisoners, which made them feel more tired and worn out.

    The row of cells and there was once a thick red carpet along here, which had the dual purpose of muffling the sound of guards walking along and it also hid the blood.

    The above two photos show the eye hole where guards could look into a cell, and what it looked like from the inside of the cell.

    The inside of a cell door.

    The execution chamber, which wasn’t used from the 1950s onwards, and was covered up by the authorities. The covering up was literal, they put wallpaper up over the bullet holes and then turned the area into a shop where staff could buy provisions. This was an important benefit, given that food and drink was often in short supply during the communist period.

    The tour cost around £5 and lasted for around ninety minutes. I’m glad that I got to go on this tour before the building was closed for renovation, although I’m confident that the museum will re-open in the future. It would look appalling if the state, which owns the building, tried to cover up this period of the country’s history, and I can’t imagine they’d want to do so.