"Canada had an urgent need for farm labour after the war," explained Mr. Draycott.
"Were there any screening procedures in place to keep certain people out?" asked Mrs. Caine.
"With the huge backlog of refugees, it was difficult, but we did the best we could. Almost certainly some undesirables were able to sneak through. One or more of the following elements would have made a prospective immigrant unsuitable: If the person was a Communist, a member of the SS, a member of the Nazi Party, a criminal, a professional gambler, a prostitute, a black market racketeer, if the person was evasive during questioning, did not have acceptable documents, used a fictitious name, was a collaborator presently residing in previously occupied territory, a member of the Mafia or of the Italian Fascist Party, a Trotskyite or member of another revolutionary organization."
Mrs. Caine walked over to where Danylo was sitting and pointed at him. "Would you have let this man into the country had you been the one screening him?" she asked.
Mr. Draycott turned to look at Danylo and knitted his brows. "Under what grounds are you thinking, Mrs. Caine?"
"As someone who committed crimes against the local population on behalf of the Nazis," she replied.
"These people were ‘collaborators' and were specifically barred from obtaining entry into Canada," he said.
"So a person who committed crimes against the local population would be barred from gaining Canadian citizenship?"
"That is correct," said Mr. Draycott.
"No more questions," said Mrs. Caine.
Mr. Vincent got to his feet.
"Mr. Draycott," he began. "Mr. Feschuk was a member of the auxiliary police force in the Ukrainian province of Volhyn from 1941 until 1943. If he told you that during his security screening, would that have barred him from entering Canada?"
"Not on those grounds. Was he a member of the SS?" asked Mr. Draycott.
"No," said Mr. Vincent.
"Did he bear the SS tattoo?"
"No," said Mr. Vincent.
"Was he a member of the Nazi Party?"
"No."
Mr. Draycott shook his head. "Simply being a local auxiliary police officer would not be considered collaboration."
"What would be considered collaboration, then?" asked Mr. Vincent.
"As I said to Mrs. Caine, if Mr. Feschuk had committed crimes against the civilian population, he would be considered a collaborator."
"How would you determine that?" asked Mr. Vincent.
"People like that were shunned by the other Displaced Persons," said Mr. Draycott. "But mostly, we would base the judgement on the personal interview."
"Thank you Mr. Draycott. I have no more questions."
The next witnesses were much the same as the first. Another immigration officer, a medical officer. Each would speak of who would and who would not have been let into Canada immediately after the war.
As Kat listened, she was troubled by the fact that month to month and year to year, there were subtle changes in who was allowed in and who wasn't. It also troubled her that Danylo's immigration papers had not been brought forward as evidence. Surely if he was being accused of misrepresenting himself, the government could settle the matter by showing the papers? But all the immigration papers from just after the war had been destroyed. One clerk testified that this wasn't malice on the part of the government, it was routine housekeeping. It left Kat to wonder at how this hearing could even be, with no surviving paperwork and no witnesses.
After the last immigration officer testified, the plaintiff rested the government's case. "To sum up," said Mrs. Caine. "We have heard testimony that Mr. Danylo Feschuk collaborated with the Nazis in Reichcommissariat Ukraine from 1941 until 1943 in his role as an auxiliary police officer. We have heard testimony about the atrocities committed by Ukrainian auxiliary police in World War II. We have also heard testimony that had Mr. Feschuk disclosed his involvement in these crimes, he would not have been given Canadian citizenship. The fact that he gained Canadian citizenship proves that he lied to security officials during screening procedures.
"Some may try to minimize Mr. Feschuk's collaboration, saying he was forced into it. However, I want you to consider this: if a man betrays the country of his birth, what stops him from betraying his country of adoption?
"Mr. Danylo Feschuk's citizenship should be stripped and he should be deported."
Kat sat there, stunned.
CHAPTER 30
WHEN THE BALIUKS arrived home, Kat checked the mail, but found no hate mail. There had been a few pieces of hate mail since that first one, but now everyone knew what to do. As soon as they were opened and their contents revealed, they were dumped into a zip-lock bag and the police were notified. Several good prints had already been found.
While the hate mail was upsetting to Danylo, what upset him even more was the "fan" mail. Twice in the last week, Danylo had received letters from neo-Nazis extending their support. The writers of these "fan" letters mistakenly believed that her grandfather was a Nazi and they idolized him for it.
Kat remembered when the first such letter arrived. She had found her grandfather sitting on the sofa, a letter in hand. His face was almost purple with anger.
"What's the matter, Dido?" she had asked.
"This piece of garbage," he said, holding out the letter for her to see. "A fool is thanking me for my work in the name of Hitler. What kind of a nut would think Hitler was a good guy?"
Thankfully, these letters were few and far between, and in this particular stack, there were none. What was in this stack, however, were letters of support. Some of the letters came from fellow Ukrainian immigrants who, like Danylo, had come from a village that was right on the front, but what warmed Kat's heart the most were the letters from Canadian-born citizens who were simply appalled by a process that could strip citizenship on the basis of unproven evidence.
Kat had her own case of unproven evidence to atone for. Michael had still not returned her phone calls. She felt awful about what had happened, but she couldn't quite understand why he was so angry with her. She had not accused him of doing the graffiti, and she had not called the police. All she had done was witness his arrest. What had he expected her to do?
She picked up the phone and called one last time. This time, Michael picked up.
She was momentarily at a loss for words because she had expected to get an answering machine again. "Hi Michael, it's Kat," she said.
"Hi," he replied in a flat voice.
"Look," said Kat. "I am really sorry for what happened. I wish it didn't happen at all, but I don't know why you're so mad at me about it."
"I'm not, really," said Michael. "I'm sad about it, not mad about it."
"Can you come over, and maybe we can talk?"
"Sure," he said. "Hold on for a minute." Kat could hear the muffled sound of a hand over the speaker of a phone.
"My dad has to drop some papers off at your house after supper tonight. He said he could drive me over at the same time." "That would be great," said Kat. She was very relieved.
When Mr. Vincent came over, he and Kat's mother and grandfather took over the kitchen table with an assortment of files and clippings. Michael stood awkwardly in the living room, looking on.
"I'll just grab a couple of sodas and then we can go downstairs and I'll show you what I was working on," said Kat.
"Okay," said Michael.
Kat was relieved to see a faint smile on his lips.
Kat had brought a spare lawn chair into the basement so Michael would have a place to sit. Since the trial began, she had come downstairs almost every single evening to work on her eggs. She had completed seven already, and there were three more in various stages of completion.