Buying an identity & cheating the Czar

The grandfather of my grandfather, whose name I know not (which shall explain itself in a moment), was in love with a rich young woman. At this fragile point in his life he was summoned to serve in the Russian army. As my grandfather explained in telling this story, it was a time when the nation of Poland only existed in the spirit of its people--it had been, as he put it, "crucified between two thieves."

Fortunately for my ancestors, another man was willing to exchange his passport for a considerable sum and be drafted into military service in place of my great, great, great, grandfather. This labeled the family with a new name and, unfortunately, leaving us with no traceable genealogy backwards from that generation.

A fascinating story that would have remained such, had I not told it to my friend Eugene in Ottawa one day. It immediately became more fascinating. "Well, you must be Jewish then," Eugene commented, when I had finished the short tale. 

"No, I don't think so--as far as I know all my ancestors and relatives from that side of the family were Roman Catholics at least as far as anyone knew." 

"Interesting." Eugene replied, "I know at least a half dozen Jewish families who tell the same story about their ancestors at that time. The Russians often conscripted the young Jewish men and kept them in the ranks for thirty years or so until they were past having a family. It was sort of a slow genocide..."