Once Kalle Salavaara recuperated, he used his freedom, as well as his military passport, to move about delivering “solid food” to the congregations. As he set out with mimeographed material for the congregations in southwest Finland, Väinö Pallari, who was working in Bethel, warned him about the police in Matku. Several times they had taken him to the police station for interrogation and seemed to know just when a courier was about to come. Kalle relates:

“When I arrived at Matku by train from Urjala, a sturdy policeman walked up to me immediately and in an official tone of voice asked for my identification certificate. I showed him my military passport. That surprised him. In quite a different voice, he then asked for my certificate of work. For just that reason, I had formally enrolled at Helsinki University. Therefore I could hand the policeman a certificate signed by the president of the university, specifying an assignment of work there, although not indicating what kind of work I was doing. The resistance of the policeman was broken. When I started to drag my suitcases to the waiting bus, he politely offered to carry them. I could not resist the temptation to give him the large, heavy case that contained the banned mimeographed material. Somehow it seemed so safe with the policeman carrying it.”

Many times, the brothers and sisters came by toboggan, by horse sleigh, or by foot to the railway stations late at night in order to get a few banned articles. At times, the winter temperature was -22° F. [-30° C.] “No one complained,” recalls Brother Salavaara. “I saw only happy, appreciative receivers, who brought to my mind the bright words from the Sermon on the Mount: ‘Happy are those conscious of their spiritual need.’ To them it was like manna from heaven.”

Neutrality Put to the Test

The state of war put the neutrality of the Witnesses fully to the test. As for Kosti Huhtakivi, Vieno Linte, and Yrjö Laine, their Bible-trained consciences would not allow them to serve in the army. Thus, they were confined to prison. But would the quality of their faith be strong enough for the ordeal that they were about to suffer as a consequence?

Brother Huhtakivi recalls: “We were ordered to assemble at Humppila School and were assigned sleeping quarters under the rifle rack. One day the corporal ordered us into the yard and over to the flagpole. He was polishing his bayonet, boasting over its sharpness, when he snorted the order: ‘Let’s go!’ We were taken through the side gate of the school, which had served as our barracks. We walked a short distance to the edge of a forest, to a ridge, where we were ordered to halt. Now we spotted a group of soldiers marching toward us with rifles in hand.”

The armed soldiers took their stand in front of the brothers, confirmed the brothers’ identity, and informed them that they had been sentenced to death by firing squad. The sentence was to be carried out immediately.

Brother Linte cannot hold back his tears as he continues relating about their experience: “The order was given: ‘Action!’ after which the stretcher-bearer blindfolded us. Then followed the command: ‘Load!’ and we could hear the click of the rifles. Next came the order: ‘Aim!’ ‘How good to have the resurrection hope’ was the thought that rushed through my mind. Suddenly, we heard a shout: ‘Sergeant! Telephone message.’ This was followed by the command: ‘Halt!’ after which the telephone message was read aloud: ‘Sentence suspended for the time being,’ signed by the colonel. Our blindfolds were removed, and we were escorted back to our quarters.”

The drama had been well staged. The same diabolic strategy was used on other brothers. Erkki Kankaanpää, who now serves as Branch Committee coordinator, experienced it also. He explains: “To begin with, we were told that we would get a death sentence. The treatment was so stern that we did not at all doubt that it would be carried out. It was later found that this was a means of intimidation. A mock trial and, a couple of hours later, we were once again brought before the judge and received three and a half years in a penitentiary.”

In the summer of 1943, a great meeting, called “Pentti Reikko’s Family Festival,” was held in the middle of Helsinki at a students’ club. Invitations were given only to those who were recommended by two trustworthy Witnesses. We had over 500 present.

Brother Reikko tells us what happened after an official letter was sent to the authorities from that same meeting:

“Some time afterward I received an order from the State Police to report for questioning. The interrogator had our letter in his hand, and he demanded information as to where meetings like this were held. ‘How is it possible that you can hold a meeting like that in the center of Helsinki without our knowing about it, when we even know almost everything two people say to each other in the street?’ he asked. The meeting had actually been held just a couple of blocks away from the police office!