Grandma was 8 years old when the war started, they were terribly hungry, the main thing was to feed the soldiers, and only then everyone else, and once she heard the women talking that the soldiers give food if they are given, but she did not understand what they need to give , came to the dining room, stands roaring, an officer came out, asking why the girl was crying, she recounted what she had heard, and he neighed and took out a whole can of porridge for her. This is how granny fed four brothers and sisters. ... My grandfather was the captain of a motorized rifle regiment. It was 1942, the Germans took Leningrad into a blockade. Hunger, disease and death. The only way to deliver provisions to Leningrad is the "road of life" - the frozen Lake Ladoga. Late at night, a column of trucks with flour and medicines, led by my grandfather, headed down the road of life. Of the 35 cars, only 3 reached Leningrad, the rest went under the ice, like the grandfather's wagon. He dragged a saved bag of flour to the city on foot for 6 km, but did not reach it - he froze, because of wet clothes at -30. ... The father of my grandmother's friend died in the war, when that one was not even a year old. When the soldiers began to return from the war, every day she put on the most beautiful dress and went to the station to meet trains. The girl said she was going to look for her dad. She ran among the crowd, approached the soldiers, asked: "Will you be my dad?" One man took her by the hand, said: "well, lead" and she brought him home and with her mother and brothers they lived a long and happy life . ... My great-grandmother was 12 years old when the blockade of Leningrad began, where she lived. She studied at a music school and played the piano. She fiercely defended her instrument and did not allow it to be dismantled for firewood. When the shelling began, and they didn’t have time to leave for the bomb shelter, she sat down and played, loudly, for the whole house. People listened to her music and were not distracted by the shots. My grandmother, mother and I play the piano. When I was too lazy to play, I remembered my great-grandmother and sat down at the instrument. ... My grandfather was a border guard, in the summer of 41 he served somewhere on the border with present-day Moldova, respectively, he began to fight from the very first days. He never spoke much about the war, because the border troops were in the department of the NKVD - it was impossible to tell anything. But we did hear one story. During the forced breakthrough of the Nazis to Baku, grandfather's platoon was thrown into the rear of the Germans. The guys pretty quickly got surrounded in the mountains. They had to get out within 2 weeks, only a few survived, including the grandfather. The soldiers came out to our front exhausted and distraught with hunger. The orderly ran to the village and got a sack of potatoes and a few loaves of bread there. The potatoes were boiled and the hungry soldiers greedily pounced on the food. The grandfather, who survived the famine of 1933 as a child, tried to stop his colleagues as best he could. He himself ate a crust of bread and a few potato peels. An hour and a half later, all my grandfather's colleagues who went through the hell of encirclement, including the platoon commander and the ill-fated orderly, died in terrible agony from intestinal volvulus. Only my grandfather survived. He went through the whole war, was twice wounded and died in 87 from a cerebral hemorrhage - he bent down to fold the cot on which he slept in the hospital, because he wanted to run away and look at his newborn granddaughter, those at me. ... During the war, my grandmother was very small, she lived with her older brother and mother, her father left before the girl was born. There was a terrible famine, and great-grandmother was too weak, she had already been lying on the stove for many days and was slowly dying. She was saved by her sister, who had previously lived far away. She soaked some bread in a drop of milk and gave it to her grandmother to chew. Slowly, slowly, my sister came out. So my grandparents were not left orphans. And grandfather, a smart fellow, began to hunt gophers in order to somehow feed his family. He took a couple of buckets of water, went to the steppe, and poured water into gopher holes until a frightened animal jumped out of there. Grandfather grabbed him and killed him instantly so that he would not run away. He dragged home what he could find, and they were fried, and grandmother says that it was a real feast, and the brother's booty helped them to hold out. Grandfather is no longer alive, but grandmother lives and every summer expects numerous grandchildren to visit. She cooks excellently, a lot, generously, and she herself takes a piece of bread with a tomato and eats after everyone else. So I got used to eating little, simply and irregularly. And he feeds his family to the bone. Thanks her. She went through something that makes her heart freeze, and raised a big glorious family. ... My great-grandfather was drafted in 1942. Went through the war, was wounded, returned as a Hero Soviet Union. On his way home after the end of the war, he was standing at the train station where a train full of children had arrived. different ages. There were also those who met - the parents. Only now there were only a few parents, and many times more children. Almost all of them were orphans. They got off the train and, not finding their mom and dad, started crying. My great-grandfather cried with them. For the first and only time in the entire war. ...My great-grandfather went to the front in one of the first departures from our city. My great-grandmother was pregnant with her second child - my grandmother. In one of the letters, he indicated that he was going in a ring through our city (by that time my grandmother was born). A neighbor, who at that time was 14 years old, found out about this, she took a 3-month-old grandmother and took it to my great-grandfather, he cried with happiness at the moment when he held her in his arms. It was 1941. He never saw her again. He died on May 6, 1945 in Berlin and was buried there. ... My grandfather, a 10-year-old boy, in June 1941 was resting in a children's camp. The shift was until July 1, on June 22 they were not told anything, they were not sent home, and so the children were given another 9 days of peaceful childhood. All radios were removed from the camp, no news. This, after all, is also courage, as if nothing had happened, to continue detachment affairs with children. I can imagine how the counselors cried at night and whispered news to each other. ...My great-grandfather went through two wars. In the First World War he was an ordinary soldier, after the war he went to receive a military education. Learned. During the Great Patriotic War, he participated in two significant and large-scale battles. At the end of the war, he commanded a division. There were injuries, but he returned back to the front line. Many awards and thanks. The worst thing is that he was killed not by the enemies of the country and the people, but by simple hooligans who wanted to steal his awards. ...Today my husband and I watched the Young Guard. I sit on the balcony, look at the stars, listen to the nightingales. How many young guys and girls never lived to see victory. Life has never been seen. Husband and daughter are sleeping in the room. What a joy it is to know that your favorite houses! Today is May 9, 2016. Main holiday peoples former USSR . We live as free people thanks to those who lived during the war years. Who was at the front and in the rear. God forbid, we will not find out what our grandfathers were like. ...My grandfather lived in the village, so he had a dog. When the war began, his father was sent to the front, and his mother, two sisters and he were left alone. Because of severe hunger, they wanted to kill the dog and eat it. Grandfather, being small, untied the dog from the kennel and let him run, for which he received from his mother (my great-grandmother). In the evening of the same day, the dog brought them a dead cat, and then he began to drag bones and bury them, and grandfather dug up and dragged him home (they cooked soup on these bones). So they lived until the 43rd year, thanks to the dog, and then she simply did not return home. ...The most memorable story from my grandmother was about her work in a military hospital. When the Nazis were dying, they could not finish them with the girls from the wards from the second floor to the corpse truck ... they simply threw the corpses out of the window. Subsequently, for this they were given to the tribunal. ... A neighbor, a veteran of the Second World War, went through the entire war in the infantry to Berlin. Somehow in the morning they were smoking near the entrance, talking. He was struck by the phrase - they show in a movie about the war - soldiers are running - cheers at the top of their lungs ... - this is a fantasy. We, he says, always went on the attack in silence, because it was dumb as fuck. ... During the war, my great-grandmother worked in a shoemaker's shop, she fell into a blockade, and in order to somehow feed her family, she stole laces, at that time they were made of pigskin, she brought them home, cut them into small pieces equally, and fried, and survived. ...Grandma was born in 1940, and the war left her an orphan. Great-grandmother drowned in a well when she was gathering rose hips for her daughter. Great-grandfather went through the whole war, reached Berlin. Killed by blowing himself up on an abandoned mine while returning home. All that remained of him was his memory and the Order of the Red Star. Grandmother kept it for more than thirty years until it was stolen (she knew who, but could not prove it). I still can't understand how people raised their hands. I know these people, they studied in the same class with their great-granddaughter, they were friends. How interesting life has turned. ... As a child, he often sat on his grandfather's lap. He had a scar on his wrist that I touched and examined. They were teeth marks. Years later, my father told the story of the scar. My grandfather, a veteran, went to reconnaissance, in the Smolensk region they encountered the SS-vtsy. After close combat, only one of the enemies remained alive. He was huge and motherly. SS-man in a rage bit his grandfather's wrist to the meat, but was broken and captured. Grandfather and company were presented for another award. ... My great-grandfather has been gray-haired since he was 19 years old. As soon as the war began, he was immediately called up, not allowing him to finish his studies. He told that they were going to the Germans, but it did not turn out the way they wanted, the Germans were ahead. Everyone was shot, and grandfather decided to hide under the trolley. They sent a German shepherd to sniff everything, grandfather thought that everyone would see it and kill it. But no, the dog just sniffed it and licked it while running away. That's why we have 3 shepherd dogs at home). ... My grandmother was 13 years old when she was wounded in the back during the bombing by shrapnel. There were no doctors in the village - everyone was on the battlefield. When the Germans entered the village, their military doctor, having learned about the girl who could no longer walk or sit, secretly made his way to her grandmother’s house at night, made dressings, picked out worms from the wound (it was hot, there were a lot of flies). To distract the girl, the guy asked: "Zoinka, sing Katusha." And she cried and sang. The war passed, my grandmother survived, but all her life she remembered that guy, thanks to whom she remained alive. ... Grandmother said that during the war my great-great-grandmother worked at the factory, at that time they were very strict to ensure that no one stole and was very severely punished for it. And in order to somehow feed their children, women put on two pairs of tights and put grain between them. Or, for example, one distracts the guards while the children are taken to the workshop where butter was whipped, they caught small pieces and fed them. The great-great-grandmother had all three children survived that period, and her son no longer eats butter. My great-grandmother was 16 when German troops came to Belarus. They were examined by doctors in order to be sent to the camps to work. Then the girls were smeared with grass, which caused a rash similar to smallpox. When the doctor examined the great-grandmother, he realized that she was healthy, but he told the soldiers that she was sick, and the Germans were terribly afraid of such people. As a result, this German doctor saved a lot of people. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be in the world. ... Great-grandfather never shared stories about the war with his family .. He went through it from beginning to end, was shell-shocked, but never talked about those terrible times. Now he is 90 and more and more often he remembers that terrible life. He does not remember the names of his relatives, but he remembers where and how Leningrad was shelled. He also has old habits. There is always all the food in the house in huge quantities, what if there is hunger? Doors are locked with several locks - for peace of mind. And there are 3 blankets in the bed, although the house is warm. Watching films about the war with an indifferent look. .. ...My great-grandfather fought near Königsberg (now Kaliningrad). And during one of the skirmishes, he was hit by shrapnel in his eyes, from which he was instantly blind. As the shots ceased to be heard, he began to look for the voice of the foreman, whose leg was torn off. Grandfather found the foreman, took him in his arms. And so they went. The blind grandfather went to the commands of the one-legged foreman. Both survived. Grandfather even saw after operations. ... When the war began, my grandfather was 17 years old, and according to the law of war, he had to arrive at the military enlistment office on the day of majority to be sent to the army. But it turned out that when he received the summons, he and his mother moved, and he did not receive the summons. He came to the military registration and enlistment office the next day, for the day of delay he was sent to the penal battalion, and their department was sent to Leningrad, it was cannon fodder, those who are not sorry to be sent into battle first without weapons. As an 18-year-old guy, he ended up in hell, but he went through the whole war, was never wounded, the only relatives did not know if he was alive or not, there was no right to correspond. He reached Berlin, returned home a year after the war, since he still served active duty. His own mother, having met him on the street, did not recognize him after 5.5 years, and fainted when he called her mother. And he cried like a boy, saying “mom, this is Vanya, your Vanya” ... Great-grandfather at the age of 16, in May 1941, having added 2 years to himself, to get a job, he got a job in Ukraine in the city of Krivoy Rog at the mine. In June, when the war began, he was drafted into the army. Their company was immediately surrounded and captured. They were forced to dig a ditch, where they were shot and covered with earth. Great-grandfather woke up, realized that he was alive, crawled upstairs, shouting "Is anyone alive?" Two responded. Three of them got out, crawled to some village, where a woman found them, hid them in her cellar. During the day they hid, and at night they worked in her field, harvesting corn. But one neighbor saw them and handed them over to the Germans. They came for them and took them prisoner. So my great-grandfather ended up in the Buchenwald concentration camp. After some time, due to the fact that my great-grandfather was a young, healthy peasant guy, from this camp, he was transferred to a concentration camp in West Germany, where he already worked in the fields of the local rich, and then as a civilian. In 1945, during the bombing, he was closed in one house, where he sat all day until the American allies entered the city. When he came out, he saw that all the buildings in the district were destroyed, only the house where he was was left intact. The Americans offered all the prisoners to go to America, some agreed, and the great-grandfather and the rest decided to return to their homeland. They returned on foot to the USSR for 3 months, passing all over Germany, Poland, Belarus, Ukraine. In the USSR, their military had already taken them prisoner and wanted to shoot them as traitors to the Motherland, but then the war with Japan began and they were sent there to fight. So my great-grandfather fought in the Japanese War and returned home after it ended in 1949. I can say with confidence that my great-grandfather was born in a shirt. Three times he escaped death and went through two wars. ... Grandmother said that her father served in the war, saved the commander, carried him on his back through the whole forest, listened to his heartbeat, when he brought him, he saw that the commander’s entire back looked like a sieve, and he only heard his heart. ...I have been studying for several years prospecting work. Groups of searchers searched for nameless graves in the forests, swamps, on the battlefields. I still cannot forget this feeling of happiness if there were medallions among the remains. In addition to personal data, many soldiers put notes in medallions. Some were written literally moments before death. Until now, literally, I remember a line from one such letter: “Mom, tell Slavka and Mitya to crush the Germans! I can’t live anymore, so let them try for three. ” ...My great-grandfather told his grandson stories all his life about how he was afraid during the war. How afraid, sitting in a tank together with a younger comrade, go to 3 German tanks and destroy them all. As I was afraid, under the shelling of aircraft, crawling over the field in order to restore contact with the command. As he was afraid to lead a detachment of very young guys to blow up a German bunker. He said: “Horror lived in me for 5 terrible years. Every moment I was afraid for my life, for the lives of my children, for the life of my Motherland. Whoever says that he was not afraid is lying. So, living in constant fear, my great-grandfather went through the whole war. Fearing, he reached Berlin. He received the title of Hero of the Soviet Union and, despite the experience, remained a wonderful, incredibly kind and sympathetic person. ... My great-grandfather was, one might say, the supply manager in his unit. Somehow they were transported by a convoy of cars to a new place and ended up in a German encirclement. There is nowhere to run, only the river. So the grandfather snatched the porridge cauldron out of the car and, holding on to it, swam to the other side. No one else from his unit survived. ...During the years of war and famine, my great-grandmother went outside for a short while, for bread. And left her daughter (my grandmother) at home alone. She was five years old at the time. So, if the great-grandmother had not returned a few minutes earlier, then her child could have been eaten by the neighbors.
Gantimurova Albina Aleksandrovna - chief foreman (senior sergeant), commander of the reconnaissance department of the Marine Corps, holder of the Order of Glory of two degrees
I lived in My mother died when I was three years old, and my aunt raised me. I have never been distinguished by exemplary behavior - I could jump off the second floor on a dare - that was it. When the war started, we lived in Leningrad. On the twenty-second, the war began, and our teacher, to whom we had to take the Russian language, fell ill, and in connection with this, the exam was postponed to the twenty-third. I was then in the eighth grade. We were terribly glad that the war had begun and we did not need to take this exam. We didn't know what war was. Because the Finnish war somehow passed us by - echelons passed back and forth, but it did not stir up the people as much as the Patriotic War.
And therefore, when Molotov spoke, we somehow reacted to this - today there is war, but tomorrow it will not be. At that time, we did not read books about this war, which appeared later. We read books of those times that talked about high school students, and so on. There were very few books about the war. We didn't know what war was. Therefore, when recruitment was announced for the people's militia, we, four people from the class, ran to the military registration and enlistment office. At the same time, we ran to the military registration and enlistment office of the Dzerzhinsky district. There were crowds of people who wanted to take part in the people's militia. But we nevertheless made our way, and when they began to ask us how old we were - after all, we needed eighteen, and we weren’t even sixteen yet, we mumbled something, we still naturally didn’t have passports, and yet she us recorded all four.
Meanwhile, at the corner of McLean (now English Avenue) and Sadovaya, people stood with trays, collecting valuables for the defense fund. Women took off jewelry, earrings, put them on a tray without any consideration. At that time we still ran there to see what kind of jewels there were. It was an amazing time, as I recall now. In the end, they nevertheless called us, and I ended up in the medical battalion. They settled us in the House of Scientists in Leningrad, and they began to teach us how to set up tents on the Field of Mars. Meanwhile, parents and relatives were standing near the House of Scientists on the embankment. My aunt waved to me and shouted: “Albina, if you don’t come home in the evening, I will punish you!” And I could not come, I had already taken the oath. And when at night - I don't remember the date - we left Leningrad, we walked in windings - we didn't have boots then.
Windings fell - we were taught to wind them, but we have not yet learned. I have a thirty-fifth boot size, but they gave me forty-one and everything that I had was civilian, I had on my feet - otherwise the leg could be put in the boot both lengthwise and across. We reached the Pulkovo Heights on foot. The division stood further, and the medical battalion stood on the Pulkovo Heights. We spent the night there. I remember when I was on duty transport department- when the wounded are taken closer to the rear, we took them further to the hospital. And I fell asleep. I was put on duty, and I fell asleep. Then the commander comes up and says: “What are you sleeping here for?” I say: “I am on duty” - “how are you on duty if you are sleeping? All right, I will punish you.” That was my first assignment.
I spent very little time in the medical battalion. I got shell-shocked and ended up in the hospital. I also stayed there for a very short time. I don't remember the location, but it was a field hospital. I was discharged and sent to this point, where all the wounded are distributed. And at that time the naval brigade was passing by. Representatives of all the units that needed replenishment came to the hospital and recruited people for themselves. An officer came to the hospital, I didn’t even know what rank he was, it turned out that it was the captain, and he said: “I take this girl for myself.” So I ended up in the 73rd Naval Brigade. Four of us were taken there - three men and me. When we were at the brigade headquarters, the reconnaissance commander was there, and he said: "I'm taking it for myself."
He asked me a few questions that I can. I answered that I can ride a horse, and I really knew how - I went in for sports as a girl and I also said that I love dogs. He said that they don't have dogs, so now they will. We laughed, and he immediately took me to reconnaissance. To be honest, I didn’t even know how to shoot then. I already saw something - where to put the cartridge, but I didn’t know how. But I didn't talk about it. So when someone did something, I watched and learned. Once they decided to play a trick on me and gave me a PTR. Do you know what his return is? "Can you shoot it?" I said that I did not shoot, but I can shoot. I took this PTR, the hardest. And no one even told me to press closer to my shoulder, so that there would be less return. And when I fired, of course I fell and almost dislocated my shoulder. The commander of the intelligence company punished this officer. He said: "You need to be a foreman, and not a squad leader."
For a while I was just a soldier, after a while I was given the rank of sergeant and then senior sergeant. I was in charge of the Scout Squad in the Marine Corps. There were people in my department who already had children, all the adults were already there. They called me some daughter, some like. And there were a few young sailors. I commanded them, and everyone obeyed me, but God forbid someone else would hurt me - they were in a fight, everyone stood up for me. This is how my youth went.
At first, of course, we were poorly equipped - a padded jacket, cotton pants, because winter was already beginning then. All this was of course great for me, I was like a clown in these clothes. But when I came to the medical battalion for something, the girls there loved me so much that they tried to give me some panties that they sewed themselves or something like that, because then we didn’t have anything in the army for women then. It was all male. These bottom shirts are huge, these underpants - can you imagine, we wore these underpants. Cotton pants were also great. Something had to be cut. We certainly looked funny. The only thing that we still had white coats in winter was with the Finnish one.
Weapons - at first we all loved our PPSh very much, and then once we went to reconnaissance, another time we went - they took German, like them, Schmeisers, or what? But they were also unimportant. And ours, like their teaching staff, they jammed very often - the cartridge will stand up crookedly, for the life of me. At least understand. PPSh was a little heavy for me, but it is more reliable. And then, as they began to go to the Germans, everyone began to go with Schmeisers. They are simply easier. They are heavier than PPS, but lighter than PPSh. There were no maskhalats in the summer, what kind of maskhalats? They didn't exist at all then. Everyone had vests. If there was reconnaissance in battle, then they would definitely go in vests. By the way, when there was reconnaissance in force, they very often recruited reinforcements from those arrested, from the penalty box. They came and we took it for ourselves. They replenished their intelligence in this way. When they went to reconnaissance in battle, they all took out their peakless caps, ribbons in their mouths so that it would not fall, and everyone had vests. Everyone has belts and vests so that they can see that they are sailors. The Germans were afraid of the sailors. They were very afraid.
I have always remained a woman, or rather a girl. I felt sorry for the soldiers when we took them prisoner. I took the first German, we fought one on one with him. By the way, I have a photograph of him, and a photograph of his bride. When he was already interrogated, he was sent to the rear - but he did not know where, and gave me his photograph and the photograph of his bride. I cut his legs because I didn't know what to do with him. It turned out like this - he was in the cell, and when I jumped over the cell, he grabbed my leg. I struggled, it was uncomfortable for him, I gave him a machine gun in the arm. He jumped out of the cell, and we fought silently - I was afraid to show with my voice that I was a woman, he would immediately understand who he was dealing with.
And the most interesting thing is that they laughed at me for another six months: “when are you going to reconnaissance?” - "and what?" - "You look, remove the automatic fuse." When I fought this German, my machine gun was on safety. I pull the trigger, but it doesn't fire. Still, I guessed, and somehow I managed to remove the machine from the fuse, I fired and shot him in the legs. He fell, he had nothing to do. But the most interesting thing is that he jumped out of the cell without a machine gun. That is, he only had to overcome me by force. He didn't have a gun, but I did. I shot him in the legs, the guys crawled up, they helped to do everything. But it was all like a dream. How I figured out how to do all this - I didn’t know much then. We dragged this German, handed him over, interrogated him, bandaged him, and then he gave me his photograph and the photograph of his bride. He said at the same time that he would no longer be, but so that his bride would know that he was faithful to her - and stuff like that. They taught us German all the time - as soon as free time learned right away. Mostly military language - commands and all that. When we were engaged, I did not lag behind our men in anything. Then they taught us more sapper business - at first sappers went with us, and then we went on our own.
There were misses because we were so young that we didn't know much. Once I noticed that in the neutral zone, closer to the Germans, a stereo tube gleamed all the time in the sun. Naturally, I came and reported. I immediately - you discovered it, and you will take it with your department. I already had my own department then, and we prepared. We follow him, there was the sun, the stereo tube shines - and as he plays, he will turn in one direction, then in the other. Also young, did not think. At night we stunned him, pulled him out, dragged him to the headquarters. Everyone says to me: “Oh, Albina, another order!” They push me. I didn't even have time to wash my face when they called me to headquarters. My guys say: “well, for the next one!” And I'm so happy to go to the headquarters. I burst into the dugout, reported that I was such and such. The head of intelligence sits and says: “whom did you bring today?” I say that I don’t know, I didn’t look at the title, there are no documents, I passed everything. No, he says, think about who you brought today. It turns out that our gunners put their observer, and I dragged him. When everyone has already laughed, this kid gets up and rushes at me. He would have killed me, honestly. They just put an observer in, didn't report to anyone, but he is also young, playing with a stereo tube, back and forth. Then for a long time there were jokes about me. Intelligence after all, as a rule, next to the headquarters. You go, and everyone asks: “Albinka, who will you bring today?” Those were the jokes. War is war, everything was there.
I received all orders for reconnaissance, for prisoners. But the most expensive award is the medal "For Courage". I have it of the old model, and everyone tells me: “why don’t you change the ribbon?” And I say: “I don’t want to, this is my most expensive reward.” Reconnaissance in combat. And it is very difficult to get up when an artillery raid is being made, then it is carried over, and we have to get up and run forward, and take someone there. It's so easy to tell, and when you lie down, shells, bullets and whatever you want fly over your head. They ceased fire, moved on, and we must get up and run. Everyone lay down, the infantry lay down, and not to raise it. It is such a feeling, and I myself experienced this feeling, when it seems that the earth is holding. Everything became heavy, I couldn’t lift my leg, I couldn’t raise my arm. Here she is holding you. I experienced it, and that's why I'm talking about it. And everyone had it. Then the commander shouted: "Albina, take off your hat!" My hair was long. At first, they sawed my braids with a Finn - there were no scissors, they sawed off one shorter than the other. Laughter alone, I could draw a cartoon. And he shouted - so that everyone could see that it was a girl.
And this cry and call - I got up and shouted "forward!". All the guys got up and walked forward. But all the same, everything turned out unsuccessfully for us then, we didn’t finish what we started. But after the battle, the commander came up to me, took his hand and simply put this medal there. And then the guys made fun of me as best they could - I didn’t have any documents. We were terribly surprised when the adjutant brought me a certificate a long time later. After all, he could have forgotten - well, he gave and gave, so what? Until what people were obligatory, even in such a moment. This is my most expensive medal. The rest is all - I received one "Asterisk", probably for the general course of hostilities. Then all scouts were awarded, including me - for battles and for reconnaissance, so probably. And "Glory" of the second and third degree - only for prisoners.
Before going on reconnaissance, we had such a special state, such nervous tension that it was better not to approach us again and not ask questions. Once we were already going to the front line on a mission, and there was a platoon of infantrymen and a young lieutenant with them. And when I walked, I held my hat in my hands, and it was clear that I was a girl. This lieutenant says to me: “Ersatz soldier, where are you going?” This "ersatz" pissed me off so much that I went up to him and hit him twice in the face with all my might with the butt of my machine gun. And she went on. And the search turned out unsuccessfully - it happens that you stumble at the beginning, so everything goes wrong. They found us, and we moved away. She came to the headquarters to report that the task, they say, had not been completed. And they ask me at the headquarters: “what else happened when they were going there?” I say: "Yes, nothing happened, everything is as usual." They say: "What is this?" - and they bring out this lieutenant, and he is all bandaged, unrecognizable. Turns out I broke his jaw. And I already forgot about him. And here he is in a stupid situation - what will he say that hurt him? They promised to put me in a pit - on the front line, the lip was in a pit or a large funnel, but everything worked out.
I would like to tell one more episode, which shows that with all this I remained a woman. This was already in Poland, when the Poles evicted the Germans - and all of them, civilians. We stood near the gangway of the steamer on which they were to be taken away, because we were supposed to leave on this steamer, but then we decided to let them go ahead, these German women. A young German woman is walking, and she has a child, a girl, in her arms. The girl is holding a doll. She walks along the ladder, and there were Poles standing there - soldiers or officers, who knows. They stood in two lines, and the German women passed between them. The Pole snatches this doll from the girl and throws it overboard. And something woke up in me, or something maternal, or the fact that I am a woman. How I betrayed this Pole! And there the rope was just stretched, it turned over and into the water! Shouts "Uterus bosca, I will shoot you, I will kill you!" and so on, but there were a lot of ours with me, so I was not afraid. Then the commander asks me: “Why the hell did you get in touch with him, with this Pole?” - we called them Poles, with an emphasis on the first syllable. I say: “Does he really feel sorry for this girl to carry a doll?” Then they began to think that something could be sewn into the doll and so on. I say: “Come on, there she is, this doll is floating, take it out and look, there is nothing in it.” Something woke up in me, some kind of pity for the Germans. In Germany, when the brigade was disbanded, I was in the 90th Infantry Division, where I was also the commander of the intelligence section. The commander of our brigade, when he was appointed commander of the 90th division and the brigade was disbanded, he took all the reconnaissance from the brigade. In his memoirs, he has a description of this, that he took all the intelligence, led by a scout such and such, who was known to everyone. After the 90th rifle division formed, she immediately moved to the Karelian Isthmus, against the Finns. There we participated very little, our division was immediately overtaken to the west. Because Lyashchenko, the division commander, was simply an outstanding military leader.
I visited him in the hospital shortly before his death. I was like a child to all of them. And Lyashchenko had a woman at the front, Anya, a very beautiful girl. At home, Lyashchenko had, of course, a wife and, moreover, a daughter. And here was this Anechka. She was obviously always embarrassed about her position—or so it seemed to me, at least. She was very beautiful. She always fed me - sometimes you walk past their dugout, and she shouts to me: “Albinka, come to me, here Lyashchenko’s wife sent jam!” It's in this spirit. And I, an idiot, a year ago, when he was in the hospital, asked him: “Did you love Anya?” He says: "Yes, Albina, I loved her so much." And she died like this: she quarreled with him - they quarreled, and she went to her full height along the neutral zone. The German immediately removed it. It was such grief, especially for us women. She was worthy of Lyashchenko after all. I don't even know where she was from, I think she was a signalman. But I never even asked. She has always treated me very well. When they began to call women to the front, it immediately turned out like this: how many were sent to the troops, so many were sent in six months. It all somehow bypassed me, because I was always with men.
But how many women came, so many were then sent to the rear after six months. You know, I don’t blame anyone, of course there was love among many, because they were young, and the soldiers and officers - yes, everyone there was young then. So it's not to be blamed. I also had to get checked every month. So I've only been there once. The doctors looked at me once, and waved their hand - go, they say, from here, and don't come back. It's just that everyone loved me and treated me well. To such an extent that when I came to the medical battalion, the girls did not know what to give me. The other is carrying some unusual bandage, the other is something else. They just treated me well. No one has ever cussed me out. But once we had a big misfortune, in Lyashchenko's division. They occupied a German town, and there were tanks with ethyl alcohol. And we lost six or seven people at once together with the company commander. It was such a mourning. The fact is that we, the scouts, were the first to discover these tanks and made such a thing ourselves. Actually, it was terrible.
Then one day we ran into the Vlasovites. We ran into them, got lost, we had to go to the left, but we went to the right, and we hear Russian speech. "Guys, yours?" - "Own!" And as soon as we got up, five of our people were cut off at once. But we had a law - we pulled out all the wounded and killed, we did not leave anyone on the ground. All the dead were buried. And so when they talk about Vlasov, how good he is, and what he wanted to do there, it's all nonsense. Mostly there were Ukrainians there. I don't know what happened to them there. But when they begin to justify them now, everyone should have seen it, because it is impossible to say so spontaneously that he was such and such. I even have a picture when we bury our comrades who died in that skirmish with the Vlasovites. Then in Germany there was such a case: I jumped out into the middle of the street, and a boy jumped out to meet me with a machine gun - Volkssturm, already the very end of the war. And I have a machine gun at the ready, and a hand on the machine. He looked at me, blinked and cried. I looked at him and cried with him - I felt so sorry for him, there is a kid with this stupid machine gun. And I shove him to the destroyed building, into the gateway. And he was afraid that I would shoot him now - I have a hat on my head, it is not clear whether I am a girl or a guy. He grabbed my hand, and his hat flew off, I stroked his head.
She also shook her finger so that he would not come out of there. I even remember his face, this frightened boy. Still the war. Other relationships, everything else. You know, when there was preparation to break the blockade, our company guarded the place where the entire command of the Leningrad Front met, and Govorov was there, and Voroshilov came there. All command was there. A hut in the village of Arbuzovo, and they put us on guard. But it was so cold, so cold—I was terribly cold. An officer came out of the hut, and the guys told him: "Let the girl in, she's cold." He led me into this hut, and put me on the edge. And there is a checkmate-remate, they all cursed - each commander proved his own. And every word, then ... The adjutant went up to the last of them - and it was Voroshilov just - and said something to him quietly. He: “Yes, of course. Obviously, we won't." But as soon as he began to speak, he again suffered. This was the second time I saw Voroshilov, and the first was earlier. This team, which met here, is walking, and Voroshilov is in it, and here the Kazakh carts are driving, carrying shells. Some bastard ran up to the Kazakh, and we followed these sledges, because they crushed the snow at least a little, and we couldn’t walk waist-deep in snow. And the Kazakh rider, what he sees, then sings, as always. The adjutant runs up, says that Voroshilov should be put in, as he is tired of walking in the snow - after all, in fur coats, it is winter. I liked that this Kazakh so slowly turned to him, examined him from head to toe and said to him in Russian: “Go there! I'm doing my fifth or sixth ride today, the horses are tired. What kind of Voroshilov is there, a horse is more dear to me than this Voroshilov. I still have to carry shells today.” I sang a song and drove off. We all burst out laughing, and this officer fell behind him. At that time, we never asked who was of what nationality. We had Kazakhs in intelligence, there was one Georgian - by the way, they didn’t like him, he always solved his problems. Then there were more Uzbeks.
I can say about the partisans from my own experience - once we had to go far enough to the rear of the Germans, and the command contacted the partisans, they said that in such and such a place we would cross the bridge. Everyone agreed. And as soon as we approach the bridge, it takes off into the air. These partisans drank like beans there, they had moonshine stills, and wives, and the devil knows who was in the detachment. So my personal experience communication with the partisans is negative. Since then, our cooperation with the partisans has become much less.
Thank God I didn't have lovers at the front. Ask any man from our brigade or the 90th division - they all treated me like a child. They got something tasty - it all suited me. Never tried vodka. Even when it's cold. When we walked, they always poured us a full flask of vodka or alcohol. Never tried. Another time, the guys persuaded me: drink, warm up, just a sip. They rubbed my legs and arms with alcohol to keep me warm. I never swore obscenities - that's what I regret, sometimes I had to send someone. Never tried smoking. So what I was, and remained so. My husband told me - as a fool she was, so she remained a fool.
Regarding the behavior from Germany, I can say the following. We scouts had a completely different discipline, we were like a separate clan. I can’t say anything about the rapes, the men didn’t share this with me. Yes, I was soon wounded there, and when I was in the hospital in Leningrad, many people came to me and gave me something German, which means they took it there, in Germany, from someone. Yes, and there is nothing to hide, there were those who exported goods from Germany in trainloads. The hatred for the Germans was terrible, but I personally did not have it. It wasn't all. I just did my job, and all of us scouts did our job. They didn't hit again. Now there is absolutely no hatred towards the Germans, now other people are completely - whom to hate? I also remember such a case when Pushkin was occupied, the Germans had a ghetto there, and there was an old Russian woman there, and her grandson was a Jew. At night we knocked on her hut, and she was frightened that the Germans were coming again. When she heard the Russian speech, she was frightened, because her son married a Jewess, and her grandson looked terribly like a Jew. She hid him because he would have been killed. I remember that I took off my fur coat and gave it to her - she was in a thin coat. I've always been like this. I went through so much, but I didn’t let go, with everything I remained a man.
Interview: Bair Irincheev
Casting: Bair Irincheev
Dear users of the dock, I respect someone else's point of view, but I do not intend to endure the obvious disrespect and insult to the great feat of our people (viewing my previous posts). Also, all those who disrespect and insult other users of the dock will go to the ban. The posted posts touch upon a serious segment of our history, to which the majority treats with respect and honor, and therefore there is no place for those who believe that "... Bovarian is better than the trenches of Stalingrad." Sorry, boiled up!
The “must” generation is gone
The “give” generation has come ...
O poor tormented land,
What is this award for?
All the same, the strip is not compressed,
And a sad thought torments:
What did you die for, soldiers,
And what else do we have to do?Poet Mikhail Anikin
It is known to everyone, because this terrible period left an indelible imprint on world history. Today we will look at the most amazing historical facts about the Great Patriotic war , which are rarely mentioned in the usual sources.
Victory Day
It is hard to imagine, but in the history of the USSR there was a 17-year period when Victory Day was not celebrated. Since 1948, May 9 was a simple working day, and January 1 (since 1930 this day was a working day) was made a day off. In 1965, the holiday was again returned to its place and marked it with a wide celebration of the 20th anniversary of the Soviet victory. Since then, May 9 is again a day off. Many historians attribute such a strange decision of the Soviet authorities to the fact that she was afraid of active independent veterans on this significant day off. The official order said that people need to forget about the war and throw all their strength into rebuilding the country.
Imagine, 80 thousand officers of the Red Army during the Second World War were women. In general, in different periods of hostilities, there were from 0.6 to 1 million women at the front. From the representatives of the weaker sex who voluntarily came to the front, the following were formed: rifle brigade, 3 aviation regiments and spare rifle regiment. In addition, a women's school of snipers was organized, the pupils of which more than once went down in the history of Soviet military achievements. A separate company of women sailors was also organized.
It is worth noting that women in war performed combat missions no worse than men, as evidenced by the 87 titles of the Hero of the Soviet Union, awarded to them during the Second World War. In world history, this was the first case of such a mass struggle of women for their homeland. In the ranks soldier of the Great Patriotic War representatives of the weaker sex mastered almost all military specialties. Many of them served shoulder to shoulder with their husbands, brothers and fathers.
"Crusade"
Hitler viewed his attack on the Soviet Union as Crusade in which terrorist methods can be resorted to. Already in May 1941, when implementing the Barbarossa plan, Hitler relieved his military personnel of any responsibility for their actions. Thus, his wards could do whatever they wanted to civilians.
four legged friends
During the Second World War, more than 60 thousand dogs served on different fronts. Thanks to four-legged saboteurs, dozens of Nazi echelons went downhill. Tank destroyer dogs destroyed more than 300 enemy armored vehicles. Signal dogs obtained about two hundred reports for the USSR. On sanitary carts, dogs were taken from the battlefield at least 700 thousand wounded soldiers and officers of the Red Army. Thanks to the sapper dogs, 303 settlements were cleared of mines. In total, four-legged sappers examined more than 15 thousand km 2 of land. They found more than 4 million units of German mines and land mines.
Kremlin disguise
Considering, we will more than once encounter the ingenuity of the Soviet military. During the first month of the war, the Moscow Kremlin literally disappeared from the face of the earth. At least that's what it looked like from the sky. Flying over Moscow, the fascist pilots were in complete despair, as their maps did not match reality. The thing is that the Kremlin was carefully disguised: the stars of the towers and the crosses of the cathedrals were covered with covers, and the domes were repainted black. In addition, three-dimensional models of residential buildings were built along the perimeter of the Kremlin wall, behind which even the battlements were not visible. Manezhnaya Square and the Alexander Garden were partially made with plywood decorations for buildings, the Mausoleum received two additional floors, and a sandy road appeared between the Borovitsky and Spassky Gates. The facades of the Kremlin buildings have changed their color to gray, and the roofs to red-brown. The palace ensemble has never looked so democratic during its existence. By the way, the body of V. I. Lenin was evacuated to Tyumen during the war.
The feat of Dmitry Ovcharenko
Soviet exploits in the Great Patriotic War repeatedly illustrated the triumph of courage over armament. On July 13, 1941, Dmitry Ovcharenko, returning with ammunition to his company, was surrounded by five dozen enemy soldiers. The rifle was taken away from him, but the man did not lose heart. Pulling an ax out of his wagon, he cut off the head of the officer who was interrogating him. Then Dmitry threw three grenades at the enemy soldiers, which killed 21 soldiers. The rest of the Germans fled, with the exception of an officer, whom Ovcharenko caught up with and also beheaded. For his bravery, the soldier was awarded the title
Hitler's main enemy
History of the Second World War he doesn’t always talk about it, but the Nazi leader considered his main enemy in the Soviet Union not Stalin, but Yuri Levitan. Hitler offered 250,000 marks for the announcer's head. In this regard, the Soviet authorities carefully guarded Levitan, misinforming the press about his appearance.
Tanks from tractors
Considering interesting facts about the Great Patriotic War, one cannot ignore the fact that due to an acute shortage of tanks, in emergency cases, the USSR Armed Forces made them from simple tractors. During the Odessa defensive operation 20 tractors covered with armor sheets were thrown into battle. Naturally, the main effect of such a decision is psychological. Attacking the Romanians at night with sirens and lanterns turned on, the Russians forced them to flee. As for weapons, many of these "tanks" were equipped with dummy heavy guns. Soviet soldiers of the Great Patriotic War jokingly called such machines NI-1, which means "To be frightened."
Son of Stalin
In the war, Stalin's son, Yakov Dzhugashvili, was captured. The Nazis offered Stalin to exchange his son for Field Marshal Paulus, who was in captivity at Soviet troops. The Soviet commander-in-chief refused, stating that a soldier cannot be exchanged for a field marshal. Shortly before the arrival of the Soviet army, Yakov was shot. After the war, his family was exiled as the family of a prisoner of war. When Stalin was informed about this, he said that he would not make exceptions for relatives and cross the law.
The fate of prisoners of war
There are historical facts, because of which they become especially unpleasant. Here is one of them. About 5.27 million were captured by the Germans Soviet soldiers who were kept in appalling conditions. This fact is confirmed by the fact that less than two million soldiers of the Red Army returned home. The reason for the brutal treatment of prisoners by the Germans was the refusal of the USSR to sign the Geneva and Hague conventions on prisoners of war. The German authorities decided that if the other side did not sign the documents, then they might not regulate the conditions of detention of prisoners by world standards. In fact, the Geneva Convention regulates the attitude towards prisoners, regardless of whether the countries signed the agreement.
The Soviet Union treated enemy prisoners of war much more humanely, as evidenced at least by the fact that died in the Great Patriotic War 350 thousand German prisoners, and the remaining 2 million returned home safely.
The feat of Matvey Kuzmin
At times Great Patriotic War, interesting facts about which we are considering, the 83-year-old peasant Matvey Kuzmin repeated the feat of Ivan Susanin, who in 1613 led the Poles into an impenetrable swamp.
In February 1942, a German mountain rifle battalion was quartered in the village of Kurakino, which was instructed to break through to the rear of the Soviet troops planning a counteroffensive in the Malkinsky Heights area. Matvey Kuzmin lived in Kurakino. The Germans asked the old man to act as a guide for them, offering food and a gun in return. Kuzmin agreed to the proposal and, having notified the nearest part of the Red Army through his 11-year-old grandson, set off with the Germans. Leading the Nazis by roundabout roads, the old man led them to the village of Malkino, where an ambush awaited them. Soviet soldiers met the enemy with machine-gun fire, and Matvey Kuzmin was killed by one of the German commanders.
air ram
On June 22, 1941, Soviet pilot I. Ivanov decided on an air ram. This was the first military feat, marked by the title
The best tanker
The most qualified tank ace of the Second World War was rightfully recognized as serving in the 40th tank brigade. For three months of battles (September - November 1941), he took part in 28 tank battles and personally destroyed 52 German tanks. In November 1941, a brave tanker died near Moscow.
Losses during the Battle of Kursk
USSR losses in the war- a difficult topic, which they always try not to touch. Thus, official data on the losses of Soviet troops during the Battle of Kursk were published only in 1993. According to researcher B. V. Sokolov, German losses in Kursk amounted to approximately 360 thousand killed, wounded and captured soldiers. The Soviet losses exceeded the fascist ones by seven times.
The feat of Yakov Studennikov
On July 7, 1943, at the height of the Battle of Kursk, Yakov Studennikov, a machine gunner of the 1019th regiment, fought independently for two days. The rest of his men were killed. Despite being wounded, Studennikov repulsed 10 enemy attacks and killed more than three hundred Nazis. For this feat he was awarded the title Hero of the Soviet Union.
The feat of the 1378th regiment of the 87th division
On December 17, 1942, not far from the village of Verkhne-Kumskoye, the soldiers of the company of senior lieutenant Naumov defended a height of 1372 m with two crews anti-tank rifles. They managed to repel three enemy tank and infantry attacks on the first day and several more attacks on the second. During this time, 24 soldiers neutralized 18 tanks and about a hundred infantrymen. As a result, the Soviet brave men died, but went down in history as heroes.
shiny tanks
During the fighting at Lake Khasan, Japanese soldiers decided that the Soviet Union, trying to outwit them, was using plywood tanks. As a result, the Japanese fired Soviet technology ordinary bullets in the hope that this will be enough. Returning from the battlefield, the tanks of the Red Army were so densely covered with lead bullets melted from hitting the armor that they literally shone. Well, their armor remained intact.
Help camels
This is rarely mentioned in the history of the Second World War, but the 28-reserve Soviet army, formed in Astrakhan during the battles of Stalingrad, used camels as a draft force for transporting guns. Capture wild camels and tame them Soviet soldiers had to because of the acute shortage of vehicles and horses. Most of the 350 tamed animals died in various battles, and the survivors were transferred to farm units or zoos. One of the camels, who was given the name Yashka, reached Berlin with the soldiers.
Removal of children
Many little known facts about the Great Patriotic War cause sincere grief. During the Second World War, the Nazis took thousands of children of "Nordic appearance" from Poland and the Soviet Union. The Nazis took children from two months to six years old and took them to concentration camp called "Kinder KC", where the "racial value" of babies was determined. Those children who passed the selection were subjected to "initial Germanization". They were called and taught the German language. The new citizenship of the child was confirmed by forged documents. Germanized children were sent to local orphanages. Thus, many German families did not even know that the children they adopted were of Slavic origin. At the end of the war, no more than 3% of these children were returned to their homeland. The remaining 97% grew up and aged, considering themselves full-fledged Germans. Most likely, their descendants will never know about their true origin.
Underage Heroes
Finishing with interesting facts about Great Patriotic War, it should be said about the children-heroes. So, the title of Hero was awarded to 14-year-old Lenya Golikov and Sasha Chekalin, as well as 15-year-old Marat Kazei, Valya Kotik and Zina Portnova.
Battle of Stalingrad
In August 1942, Adolf Hitler ordered his troops leaving for Stalingrad "leave no stone unturned". In fact, the Germans succeeded. When the fierce battle was over, the Soviet government concluded that building a city from scratch would be cheaper than rebuilding what was left. Nevertheless, Stalin unconditionally ordered the rebuilding of the city literally from the ashes. During the clearing of Stalingrad, so many shells were thrown at Mamaev Kurgan that for the next two years even weeds did not grow there.
For some unknown reason, it was in Stalingrad that the opponents changed their methods of warfare. From the very beginning of the war, the Soviet command adhered to the tactics of flexible defense, retreating in critical situations. Well, the Germans, in turn, tried to avoid mass bloodshed and bypassed large fortified areas. In Stalingrad, both sides seemed to have forgotten about their principles and tripled the fiercest battle.
It all started on August 23, 1942, when the Germans massively attacked the city from the air. As a result of the bombing, 40 thousand people died, which is 15 thousand more than during the Soviet raid on Dresden in early 1945. The Soviet side in Stalingrad used methods of psychological influence on the enemy. From loudspeakers installed right on the front line, popular German music sounded, which was interrupted by reports of the next successes of the Red Army on the fronts. But most effective tool psychological pressure on the Nazis was the sound of a metronome, which after 7 beats was interrupted by the message: "Every seven seconds, one Nazi soldier dies at the front." After 10-20 such messages, the tango was turned on.
Considering interesting facts about the beginning of the Great Patriotic War and, in particular, about the Battle of Stalingrad, one cannot ignore the feat of Sergeant Nuradilov. On September 1, 1942, the machine gunner independently destroyed 920 enemy soldiers.
Memory of the Battle of Stalingrad
The Battle of Stalingrad is remembered not only in post-Soviet space. In many European countries(France, Great Britain, Belgium, Italy, and others) streets, squares and squares were named in honor of the Battle of Stalingrad. In Paris, a metro station, a square and a boulevard are named "Stalingrad". And in Italy, one of the central streets of Bologna is named after this battle.
Banner of Victory
The original Banner of Victory is kept in the Central Museum of the Armed Forces as a sacred relic and one of the brightest memories of the war. Due to the fact that the flag is made of fragile satin, it can only be stored in a horizontal position. The true banner is shown only on special occasions and in the presence of a guard. In other cases, it is replaced with a duplicate, which is 100% the same as the original and even ages the same way.
The village of Dvorishche, where the Yakutovich family lived before the war, was located seven kilometers from Minsk. There are five children in the family. Sergei is the oldest: he is 12 years old. The youngest was born in May 1941. My father worked as a mechanic at the Minsk Car Repair Plant. Mom is a milkmaid on a collective farm. The tornado of war has uprooted peaceful life from the family. For communication with the partisans, the Germans shot their parents. Sergei and his brother Lenya went to a partisan detachment and became fighters of a sabotage and subversive group. And the younger brothers were taken in by kind people.
At fourteen boyish years, Sergei Yakutovich got so many trials that they would be more than enough for a hundred human lives ... After serving in the army, Sergei Antonovich worked at MAZ. Then - at the machine-tool plant named after October revolution. He gave 35 years of his life to the decorative and construction workshop of the Belarusfilm film studio. And the years of hard times live in his memory. Like everything he experienced - in stories about the war ...
Wounded
It was the fifth or sixth day of the war. The rumble of guns outside the city suddenly ceased in the morning. Only engines howled in the sky. German fighters were chasing our hawk. Having dived sharply down, the “hawk” near the ground leaves the pursuers. Machine-gun bursts did not reach him. But from tracer bullets, thatched roofs in the village of Ozertso flared up. Black puffs of smoke billowed into the sky. We abandoned our calves and, without saying a word, rushed to the burning village. When they ran through the collective farm garden, they heard a scream. Someone called for help. In the lilac bushes, a wounded Red Army soldier was lying on his overcoat. Next to him is a PPD assault rifle and a pistol in a holster. The knee is bandaged with a dirty bandage. The face, overgrown with stubble, is exhausted by pain. However, the soldier did not lose his presence of mind. "Hey, eagles! Are there any Germans around? "What Germans!" we were outraged. None of us believed that they would appear here. “Well, guys,” the Red Army soldier asked us, “bring me some clean rags, iodine or vodka. If the wound is not treated, I am finished ... ”We consulted who would go. The choice fell on me. And I ran to the house. One and a half kilometers for a barefoot kid - a couple of trifles. When I ran across the road leading to Minsk, I saw three motorcycles dusting in my direction. “That's good,” I thought. "They'll take the wounded." I raised my hand, I'm waiting. The first motorcycle stopped next to me. Two back - at a distance. Soldiers jumped out of them and lay down by the road. Dust-gray faces. Only glasses gleam in the sun. But... uniforms on them are unfamiliar, alien. Motorcycles and machine guns are not like ours... "Germans!" - came to me. And I jumped into the thick rye that grew near the road itself. After running a few steps, he got confused and fell. The German grabbed my hair and, muttering something angrily, dragged me to the motorcycle. Another, sitting in a carriage, twirled a finger at his temple. I thought that they would put a bullet in here ... The motorcycle driver, poking his finger at the map, repeated several times: "Malinofka, Malinofka ..." From the place where we stood, the gardens of Malinovka were visible. I pointed out in which direction they should go...
But we did not abandon the wounded Red Army soldier. For a whole month they brought him food. And the medicines they could get. When the wound allowed him to move, he went into the forest.
"We will be back..."
The Germans, like locusts, filled all the villages around Minsk. And in the forest, in the bushes and even in the rye, the Red Army men, who were surrounded, hid. A reconnaissance plane was circling above the forest, almost touching the tops of the trees with its wheels, above the grain field. Having found the fighters, the pilot watered them with a machine gun, threw grenades. The sun was already setting behind the forest, when a commander with a group of soldiers approached us with my brother Lenya, who was tending calves. There were about 30 of them. I explained to the commander how to get to the village of Volchkovichi. And then move along the Ptich River. “Listen, guy, take us to these Volchkovichi,” the commander asked. - Soon it will get dark, and you are at home ... ”I agreed. In the forest we came across a group of Red Army soldiers. Man 20 with full armament. While the commander was checking their documents, I realized with horror that I had lost my landmark in the forest. In these places, I was only once with my father. But so much time has passed since then... The chain of fighters stretched for hundreds of meters. And my legs are trembling with fear. I don't know where we are going... We went out to the highway along which a column of German vehicles was moving. “Where are you taking us, you son of a bitch?! - the commander jumps up to me. - Where is your bridge? Where is the river? His face is contorted with rage. A revolver dances in his hands. A second or two - and put a bullet in my forehead ... Feverishly I think: if Minsk is in this direction, then we need to go in the opposite direction. In order not to go astray, we decided to walk along the highway, pushing our way through impenetrable bushes. Each step was given with a curse. But then the forest ended, and we ended up on a hill where cows were grazing. The outskirts of the village were visible. And below - a river, a bridge ... It relieved my heart: “Thank God! Come!” Near the bridge are two burnt-out German tanks. Smoke is smoking over the ruins of the building... The commander asks the old shepherd if there are Germans in the village, is it possible to find a doctor - we have wounded... "There were Herods," says the old man. - And they did a black deed. When they saw the wrecked tanks and the corpses of the tankers, in retaliation they propped up the doors of the Rest House (and there were a lot of wounded) and set it on fire. Inhumans! Burn helpless people in the fire... How only the earth wears them!” - lamented the old man. The Red Army soldiers crossed the highway and hid in dense bushes. The commander and two machine gunners were the last to leave. At the very highway, the commander turned around and waved his hand to me: “We'll be back, guy! We will definitely be back!”
It was the third day of the occupation.
Mortar
For the summer, my brother Lenya, who is two years younger than me, and I agreed to graze collective farm calves. Oh, and we messed with them! But what about now? When there are Germans in the village, there is no collective farm, and no one knows whose calves...
“The cattle is not to blame. As you grazed the calves, so you grazed, ”mother said resolutely. - Yes, look at me, do not touch the weapon! And God forbid you bring something home ... "
We heard the roar of hungry calves from afar. There was a wagon at the door of the barn. Two Germans dragged a dead calf to her. They threw him on a wagon, wiped his bloody hands on calf hair. And go for another...
With difficulty we drove the calves out into the meadow. But they immediately fled, frightened by the reconnaissance aircraft. I could clearly see the pilot's face with glasses. And even his smirk. Oh, to shy away from a rifle in this impudent mug! Hands itched with the desire to take weapons. And nothing will stop me: neither the orders of the Germans to be shot, nor the prohibitions of my parents ... I turn onto a path trodden in rye. And here it is, the rifle! Like it's waiting for me. I take it in my hands and feel twice as strong. Of course, it must be hidden. I choose a place where the rye is thicker, and I stumble upon a whole arsenal of weapons: 8 rifles, cartridges, bags with gas masks ... While I was looking at all this, an airplane flew over my head. The pilot saw both the weapon and me. Now it will turn around and give a turn ... Whatever the spirit has, I let it go to the forest. He hid himself in a bush and then unexpectedly found a mortar. Brand new, gleaming black. In an open box - four mines with caps on the nose. “Not today, tomorrow,” I thought, “ours will return. I will hand over the mortar to the Red Army and receive an order or a manual Kirov watch for it. But where to hide it? In the woods? They can find. Homes are safer. The plate is heavy. One cannot cope. I persuaded my brother to help me. In broad daylight, where in a plastunsky way, where on all fours I dragged a mortar along the potato furrows. And after me, Lenya was dragging a box of mines. But here we are at home. We hide behind the barn wall. We caught our breath, set up a mortar. Brother immediately began to study infantry artillery. He quickly figured everything out. No wonder at school he had the nickname Talent. Raising the barrel almost vertically, Lenya took the mine, unscrewed the cap and handed it to me: “Lower it with your tail down. And then we'll see ... "I did so. A dull shot rang out. Mina, miraculously not hitting my hand, soared into the sky. Happened! Overwhelmed by excitement, we forgot about everything in the world. Three more were sent after the first mine. Black dots instantly melted in the sky. And suddenly - explosions. In sequence. And getting closer, closer to us. "Let's run!" - I shouted to my brother and pulled around the corner of the barn. At the gate he stopped. My brother was not with me. “We must go to the calves,” I thought. But it was too late. Three Germans were approaching the house. One looked into the yard, and two went to the barn. Machine guns crackled. "Lenka was killed!" - slashed in my mind. Mom came out of the house with a little brother in her arms. "Now we're all going to be killed. And all because of me!” And such horror seized my heart that it seemed that it could not stand it and would burst from pain ... The Germans came out from behind the barn. One, healthier, carried our mortar on his shoulders. .. And Lenka hid in the hayloft. Parents never found out that our family could have died on the third day of the German occupation.
Father's death
My father, who worked before the war as a mechanic at the Minsk Carriage Repair Plant, had golden hands. So he became a blacksmith. People came to Anton Grigoryevich with orders from all the surrounding villages. My father skillfully made sickles from bayonet-knives. Riveted buckets. Could repair the most hopeless mechanism. In a word, master. Neighbors respected my father for his directness and honesty. He did not feel any timidity or fear towards anyone. He could stand up for the weak and repulse the impudent force. It was for this that the headman Ivantsevich hated him. There were no traitors in the village of Dvorishche. Ivantsevich is a stranger. He came to our village with his family
on the eve of the war. And so curry favor with the Germans that, as a sign of special trust, he received the right to bear arms. His two older sons served in the police. He also had an adult daughter and a son a couple of years older than me. The headman brought a lot of evil to people. Got it from him and his father. He gave us the most impoverished, most junk land. How much effort my father invested, and my mother and I, too, to process it, but when it comes to the harvest, there is nothing to collect. The forge saved the family. Father riveted a bucket - get a bucket of flour for this. That is the calculation. The partisans shot the elder. And his family decided that the father was to blame. None of them doubted that he was connected with the partisans. Sometimes in the middle of the night I woke up from a strange knock on the window glass (later I realized: a cartridge was pounded on the glass). Father got up and went out into the yard. He was clearly doing something for the partisans. But who will devote the boy to such matters? ..
This happened in August 1943. Removed bread. Sheaves were taken to the threshing floor and decided to celebrate dozhinki. Father drank well. And when there was a familiar knock on the window at night, he slept soundly. Mom came out into the yard. It didn't take long for the headlights of the car to flicker across the wall. A car stopped at our house. Shots rattled at the door. The Germans burst in and, shining their lanterns, began to rummage in all corners. One went up to the carriage, pulled the mattress. The little brother hit his head on the edge and raised a cry. Waking up from a child's crying, the father rushed to the Germans. But what could he do with his bare hands? They tied him up and dragged him into the yard. I grabbed my father's clothes - and after them. The headman's son was standing by the car... That night they took three more villagers. Mom looked for her father in all prisons. And he and his fellow villagers were kept in Shchemyslitsa. And a week later they were shot. The translator's son learned from his father how it was. And told me...
They were brought to execution and each was given a shovel. They ordered to dig a grave near the birches. The father snatched the shovels from the fellow villagers, threw them aside and shouted: "Don't wait, you bastards!" “Are you a hero? Well, we will reward you for your courage with a red star, - smiling, said the senior policeman, he was from the locals. "Tie him to a tree!" When the father was tied to a birch, the officer ordered the soldiers to carve a star on his back. None of them moved. “Then I will do it myself, and you will be punished,” the policeman threatened his own. Father died standing...
Revenge
I swore to myself to avenge my father. The elder's son looked after our house. He reported to the Germans that he had seen partisans. Because of him, his father was executed ...
I had a revolver and a TT pistol. My brother and I owned weapons like Voroshilov shooters. Rifles were safely hidden, but carbines were often fired. We will climb into the forest, where it is thicker, set up some kind of target and hit one by one. For this occupation, we were once caught by partisan scouts. The carbines were taken. However, this did not upset us at all. And when they began to ask what and how, I said that I knew who had betrayed my father. “Take a traitor, lead him to the New Court. There is someone to figure it out, ”the partisans advised. They helped me get my revenge...
I don't go into the house. I'm all over the place. Lenya comes out of the house. Looks at me with fear. “What happened? You have such a face ... "-" Give me an honest pioneer that you will not tell anyone. - “I give. But speak!” - "I avenged my father..." "What have you done, Seryozha?! We'll all be killed!" - and rushed into the house with a cry.
Mom came out a minute later. Face pale, lips trembling. Doesn't look at me. She brought out the horse, harnessed it to the cart. Threw bundles with clothes. Made three brothers. “Let's go to relatives in Ozertso. And now you have one road - to the partisans.
The road to the squad
We spent the night in the forest. They broke the spruce branches - here is the bed under the tree. We were in such a hurry to leave the house that we did not grab warmer clothes. They didn't even bring bread. And it's autumn outside. We pressed back to back and pounded from the cold. What a dream... Shots were still ringing in my ears. Before my eyes, the son of the headman, who collapsed from my bullet face down into the ground ... Yes, I avenged my father. But at what cost... The sun rose over the forest, and the gold of the leaves burst into flames. Need to go. Hunger drove us on. I really wanted to eat. The forest suddenly ended, and we went to the farm. “Let's ask for some food,” I say to my brother. “I am not a beggar. Go, if you want, yourself ... ”I go up to the house. An unusually high foundation caught my eye. The house was in a hollow. Obviously, in the spring it floods here. A healthy dog is flooded. The hostess stepped out onto the porch. Still a young and rather pretty woman. I asked her for bread. She did not have time to say anything: boots rattled on the porch and a peasant went down the wooden steps. Tall, red face. Apparently drunk. "Who it? Documentation!" I have a pistol in my pocket, a second one in my belt. A policeman without a weapon. It is impossible to miss two steps. But fear paralyzed me. "Well, let's go to the house!" A hand reaches out to grab me by the collar. I ran towards the forest. Police after me. Caught up with. Hit me in the back of the head. I'm falling. He steps on my throat with his foot: “Gotcha, you bastard! I will hand you over to the Germans and I will still receive a reward. "You won't get it, you bastard!" I pull out a revolver from my belt and shoot point-blank...
From my mother, I knew that in Novy Dvor there was a partisan liaison, Nadya Rebitskaya. She led us to the Budyonny detachment. Some time later, my brother and I became fighters of a sabotage and subversive group. I was 14 years old, and Lena was 12.
Last date with mom
When I hear arguments about the origins of patriotism, about the motivation for heroic deeds, I think that my mother, Lyubov Vasilievna, did not even know about the existence of such words. But she showed heroism. Silent, quiet. Not counting on gratitude and awards. But risking every hour and their lives, and the lives of children. Mom carried out the tasks of the partisans even after she lost her home and was forced to wander with her three children in strange corners. Through the contact of our detachment, I arranged a meeting with my mother.
Quiet in the forest. March gray day tends to evening. The twilight is about to fall on the melted snow. A figure of a woman appeared among the trees. Mom's casing, mother's gait. But something kept me from rushing towards her. The woman's face is completely unfamiliar. Terrible, black... I stand still. I do not know what to do. “Seryozha! It's me," my mother's voice. “What did they do to you, mom?! Who are you like that? ..” - “I could not restrain myself, son. I didn't have to say that. So it got from the German ... ”In the village of Dvorishche, German soldiers from the front settled down to rest. There were plenty of them in our empty house. Mom knew about it, but still risked getting into the barn. Warm clothes were stored in the attic. She began to climb the stairs - then the German grabbed her. He took me to the house. German soldiers feasted at the table. Stared at mom. One of them speaks in Russian: “Are you the mistress? Have a drink with us." And pours half a glass of vodka. "Thanks. I do not drink". - “Well, if you don’t drink, then wash our clothes.” He took a stick and began to stir up a pile of dirty laundry piled in a corner. He pulled out his fouled underpants. The Germans laughed in unison. And then my mother could not stand it: “Warriors! I suppose you’re draping from Stalingrad itself!” The German took a log and hit my mother in the face with all his might. She collapsed unconscious. By some miracle, my mother survived, and she even managed to escape...
My meeting with her was not joyful. Something inexplicably disturbing, oppressive pressed on my heart. I said that for safety, it would be better for her and her children to go to Nalibokskaya Pushcha, where our detachment was based. Mom agreed. And a week later, Vera Vasilievna, my mother's sister, came running to us in the forest crying. “Seryozha! They killed your mother ... "-" How did they kill ?! I saw her recently. She had to leave...” - “On the way to the Pushcha, two horsemen overtook us. They ask: “Which of you is Lyuba Yakutovich?” Love responded. They pulled her out of the sleigh and led her into the house. They were interrogated and tortured all night. And in the morning they were shot. I still have children ... ”We harnessed the horse to the sleigh - and galloped. It doesn’t fit in my head that the worst has already happened ... Mom, in her father’s casing, was lying in a hollow not far from the road. There is a blood stain on the back. I fell on my knees in front of her and began to ask for forgiveness. For my sins. For not protecting. That did not save from a bullet. The night was in my eyes. And the snow looked black...
Mom was buried in a cemetery near the village of Novy Dvor. Only three months remained before the release ... Our people were already in Gomel ...
Why didn't I get to the partisan parade
The partisan detachment named after the 25th anniversary of the BSSR goes to Minsk for a parade. There are still 297 days and nights before the Victory. We are celebrating our partisan victory. We celebrate the liberation of our native land. We celebrate a life that could end at any moment. But against all odds, we survived...
Passed Ivenets. Out of nowhere - two Germans. Bending down, they run to the forest. In the hands of one - a rifle, the other - a machine gun. "Who will take them?" - asks the commander. "I will take!" - I answer him. “Come on, Yakutovich. Just don't hang around in vain. And chase us." The squad left. I am for the Germans. Where crawling, where short dashes. And the grass is tall. Boots in it get confused, interfere. Dropped them, barefoot chasing I took a warrior, disarmed. I lead to the road. And I think: where should I put them? I see a column of prisoners gathering dust along the way. Fritz 200, perhaps. I'm to the escort: take two more. He stopped the column. He asks who I am. He told and remembered about his father. "Why are you barefoot?" I explain. “Well, brother, go to the parade barefoot - people laugh. Wait, we'll think of something ... "He brings me boots:" Put on your shoes. I thanked and only took a few steps - the guard calls me. He searched my prisoners. At the younger one, he found a pistol and a bowler hat full of gold teeth, crowns ... “You say your father was shot? Take this flayer, take him to the bushes and slap." I took the prisoner out of the way, removed the machine gun from my shoulder ... The German fell to his knees, tears flowed down his dirty face: “Nicht schiessen! Nicht shissen!” Something flared up inside me and immediately went out. I pulled the trigger... Near the German himself, the bullets mowed the grass and entered the ground. The German jumped to his feet and disappeared into the column of prisoners of war. The escort looked at me and silently shook my hand...
I did not catch up with my detachment and did not get to the partisan parade. I regret this all my life.
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The happy life of Colonel Shemyakin
Veteran of the Great Patriotic War, holder of 8 orders Peter Shemyakin went through the whole war. The retired colonel has a tenacious, bright memory in a youthful way: he remembers the numbers of all the battalions and regiments where he fought, the names of all settlements where he had to fight and serve. Pyotr Nikolaevich unfolds the panorama of military and civilian life sparingly, almost without details, giving dry assessments of events. His memoirs, which are almost all woven from listings of cities, towns, stations where his units fought, would be enough for an impressive brochure. We tried to extract from them the poignant details of the war years. Petr Shemyakin comes from a village of 50 households in the Vologda region. Of the 12 children of the Shemyakins, seven survived. But the troubles of the Shemyakins did not end there. The family was “seized” by consumption, and five more children were killed. Mother Peter and older sister Maria remained. And in the 35th year, his father died. He worked as a tinsmith, and when he covered the roof of the district hospital, he could not resist and fell down.
Real Vologda oil
Since there were health problems in the family, the mother wanted Petya to enter a medical college. But contrary to his mother's will, the son graduated from the meat and dairy technical school in Vologda and came to work in his area. He got a job as a technologist in the district plant management, where he followed the technology for preparing butter (the same, famous, Vologda) and other dairy products at the dairies of the region.
- By the way, the secret of Vologda oil is not in some special technology for its manufacture, but in amazing grass and meadow flowers that Vologda cows eat,” Colonel Pyotr Nikolaevich says today.
Memories of service in the tank troops
On the eve of the war, in October 1940, Pyotr Shemyakin was drafted into the army, into tank troops near Pskov. Recruits who arrived in freight cars in Pskov were greeted with a brass band, then settled in the barracks, and army life began: the course of a young soldier, drill, study of the charter, etc. And after that, Private Shemyakin was appointed to the crew of the T-7 high-speed tank as a gunner.
The war caught Pyotr Nikolaevich in the service. The entire regiment was loaded onto trains and sent to Karelia. The tankers received their baptism of fire near the Alakurti station. Then our advancing Germans and Finns were not allowed into the station and were able to push them back to the border. The tankers "transferred" the battle line to the rifle units, and they themselves headed for Petrozavodsk, where they were going.
Here it was more difficult to fight on tanks: if near Alakurti there was a free clearing where the tanks had room to turn around, then near Petrzavodsk it was possible to operate only along the roads: stones, forests, swamps were all around. The Germans will bypass our units, cut them off. Ours are preparing the road, cutting down the forest, bypassing the Nazis, retreating.
- There were two big troubles in Karelia: fascist "cuckoos" and sabotage groups Shemyakin recalls. - Cuckoos are machine gunners. They were tied to trees: they literally “mowed down” our fighters. And the Germans sent sabotage groups to the location of our troops, and they “cut out” our detachments there. This happened to our medical battalion, after which these bastards also abused the bodies of the wounded and nurses.
After the fighting in Karelia, out of a battalion of 30 tanks, only one remained. The tank of Pyotr Shemyakin also hit a mine. “It wasn’t scary,” recalls Pyotr Nikolaevich. “It shook only a little, but the crew was not injured, not even shell-shocked.”
In 1942 the counteroffensive began.
In the war there were moments not only of heavy fighting, but also of rest. All the tankers of the regiment who survived were taken to Belomorsk at the beginning of the 42nd year, where the soldiers were able to relax. An operetta theater worked in Belomorsk, and the fighters visited it with pleasure: Silva, Maritsa, La Bayadère ... The front-line soldiers went to some operettas twice, or even more. The performances started at 14.00, then - dances, and the artists who had just played for the fighters danced with them.
And at the end of March, as part of a tank brigade of 70 "vehicles", already the commander of the T-34 tank, Pyotr Shemyakin came near Kharkov. Our fresh units launched a counteroffensive and pushed the enemy back 15-20 km.
“But then the Germans concentrated a strike tank grouping in this direction and gave us brains,” recalls Pyotr Nikolaevich.
I had to retreat for a long time, and the veteran sometimes dreams of this retreat to this day. native land troops left along with the people who went into evacuation. Old men, women, children who did not want to remain under the Nazis left them with their simple belongings. On horses, oxen, bicycles, and someone just dragged their belongings on themselves. The Germans did not spare either servicemen or civilians: they bombed and shot from aircraft. It was especially hard to cross the rivers.
- A lot of people always accumulated at the crossings, and the fascist monsters staged raids on them: they threw bombs, watered them with machine guns. People were scattered. There is a roar all around, screams of horror and pain, a lot of wounded and killed - a terrible thing, - says Petr Nikolayevich.
Tank Corps Lieutenant
Then there was again the rear, from where the tank brigade of Peter Shemyakin was transferred across the Don towards the enemy. At first we were advancing, but Hitler sent a huge army of Guderian to break through, and our tankers had to repel 5-6 counterattacks per day. I had to go back to Don. Of the 70 tanks of the brigade, three remained, including the KV (Klim Voroshilov) of Pyotr Shemyakin. But these tanks did not last long either: in one of the battles they knocked out and combat vehicle Peter Nikolaevich. The driver's foot was torn off, the radio operator-machine gunner was slightly wounded. The tankers got out through the landing hatch, pulled out the wounded. Shemyakin was the last to leave. One shell remained in the tank, the crew captain fired it at the Nazis, turned on the first gear and sent his empty tank towards the Nazis.
Along the ravine bank of the Don, together with the wounded, the crew of Pyotr Shemyakin retreated to the river. But you can't cross the Don with the wounded. They found a wooden sled on the shore, tore off their metal runners, loaded the wounded onto the sled, and, having attached themselves to the side, sailed across the Don to their own.
For these battles, Peter Shemyakin was promoted to the rank of senior lieutenant and was awarded the first military order - the Order of the Red Star.
Five junior officers of the tank brigade, who had not received a military education at one time, including Pyotr Shemyakin, were sent to the city in March 1942 for retraining courses. Here the cadets studied military equipment, including German. All teachers went through the front, many were injured and walked with sticks.
Petr Nikolaevich lived at that time at the Automobile Plant, and here he met his future wife, walking along the Striginsky forest.
What a ridiculous death
Behind Peter Shemyakin and the capture of Zhytomyr (then he was already the commander of a tank platoon), and the Vistula-Oder operation. By the way, he participated in the latter as an assistant to the chief of staff of the intelligence regiment.
Pyotr Nikolaevich led a reconnaissance platoon, but this did not save him from participating in battles. Together with scouts, he crossed by boat to the other side of the Vistula, and held the bridgehead from which the Germans wanted to kick them out.
The memoirs of the cavalry regiment commander belong to this period. In general, Pyotr Shemyakin had a memory of the cavalrymen, as of dandies who liked to take a walk and drink. On the occupied territory there was a train with technical alcohol. So that the Russian people would not be poisoned, the command ordered these tanks to be shot. But the cavalrymen scooped alcohol from puddles and drank. The cook gave the regiment commander a drink with this technical alcohol. Shortly before the tragic dinner, the trooper called Shemyakin and invited him to dine with him. Pyotr Nikolaevich apologized and refused, referring to the fact that he had already eaten.
And after a while he called the chief of staff, asking for an armored personnel carrier: the regiment commander was blind, and he needed to be sent to the infirmary. The front-line soldier could not go out and professional doctors: he died in the infirmary.
Soldier in war and peace
Peter Nikolayevich ended the war in Prague, but after the front he connected his life with the army. He finished his military career as a regional military commissar in Karaganda with the rank of colonel. And after demobilization, he left for his wife's homeland, in Gorky.
“I don’t complain about life,” says the former front-line soldier. I have three children, six grandchildren, eight great-grandchildren. Two grandchildren from eldest daughter- Nastya and Timur are candidates of biological sciences. By the way, Timur is now working at an institute in America. And one of the granddaughters is a 4th year student of the Medical Academy. I hope she will be able to fulfill my mother's dream of having a doctor in the family.
VIDEO: The Great Patriotic War of 1941! Color frames!
