We will remember

2024 Author: James Gerald | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 14:00

We will remember

I saw something amazing today. I accidentally turned on the TV, and there was a game. The famous TV presenter asked the famous actor questions. An actor, a popular favorite, a thirty-seven-year-old boy had to say in what year the blockade of Leningrad was lifted. They even gave hints: 1941, 1942, 1944, 1945.

No matter how the star character pushed, he could not give the right solution. Well, he did not know that the blockade had already arisen in 1941-m! And I could not imagine that it lasted for 900 days! For almost three years (it's impossible to imagine now!), Hunger and death reigned in the city. And - strength of mind! And - faith in victory!

So I wanted to ask the handsome man: “And who raised you like that? And where did you come from?"

There is, after all, a memory that cannot be betrayed. We do not have the right to do this, and that's it, if we are a people. Our history is you and me, even if we do not know those of our ancestors who fought in 1812 on the Borodino field, took part in the Crimean Wars … It was a long time ago. A lot of water has flown under the bridge. But the memory of the Great Patriotic War is still alive not only in books - it is family memory. And here it is our duty: to ask those who saw, remember. And - to tell those who will live after us. Why is this necessary? First of all, in order to know ourselves, in order to understand what we are capable of in the event of severe trials.

Since childhood, I have heard amazing stories of the war years. My dad went through the whole war. His brother, my uncle, whom I was not destined to see, died at Stalingrad. My aunt came to Berlin as a military doctor. And another aunt worked all her life at the Frunze Military Academy.

I must say that people who honestly passed the crucible of military tests were reluctant to talk about the war. War is a mortal horror, blood, death of comrades, sometimes long, painful, always clearly perceived as injustice. War is unnatural. Nobody wanted to stir up the pain. I remember, as a little girl, I asked my dad: "How was it during the war?" I was expecting stories about heroic deeds, looking forward to adventure, but dad answered: "Nothing good." And that's all.

But sometimes they remembered. Many years later they talked to me about their past. Maybe the pain receded and a memory emerged that I should have kept. I have collected many of their honest and amazing stories. Of course I have to keep them.

Now I will tell you about the first day. About the first day in a series of long tragic war years. This story was told to me by my aunt more than once. The one who worked at the Frunze Academy.

After the end of the school year, officers were supposed to go to summer camps. The time of summer camps was usually expected as joyful: there were not only exercises, not only combat training, but also long summer bright evenings, swimming in the river, dancing in the nearest town.

A wonderful time of youth, the ultimate joy of life and the expectation of happiness.

We will remember

Nobody expected war. Pay attention to this: not only was it not expected, but they were convincingly trumpeted from all sides about the successes of Soviet diplomacy, because a non-aggression pact was concluded with the formidable German-fascist predator. The Red Army was slowly rearming itself. In fact, this meant that the servicemen were armed criminally: almost nothing.

On June 21, 1941, young officers of the Military Academy arrived for exercises in a small border town near Lvov. Saturday. A beautiful summer day. Traditionally, families were allowed to go to the camps, and many officers brought their wives with them.

Aunt was in charge of the documentation, she was busy all day, settling in a new place.

I went to the warehouse to get bed linen. And while she was receiving it, she noticed how huge rats scurrying fearlessly across the floor in broad daylight. This sight horrified her, her heart was embarrassed by an incomprehensible longing. An old Pole man who worked in a warehouse remarked: “Yes, my dear lady, there have been so many rats lately, they have no life! This is a great misfortune, they say."

Aunt was young, cheerful, she threw the old man's sad prophecies out of her head as soon as she left the unpleasant room.

In the evening, the officers gathered for a dance.

- Come with us, Tanechka, - they called my aunt.

She would have gone, but only tired for the day.

- Next time - definitely! she promised.

Oh, how lightly and ecstatically my dear Tanechka has always danced! How I felt the rhythm, the music! But now she was overwhelmed by fatigue. And nothing, the summer is long. How many more bright evenings, music, young fun around …

She went to bed, but for some reason sleep did not go. Something was very disturbing, she could not understand what exactly. There was a distinct hum from the ground. You sit down - and you don't seem to hear anything, you lie down - the earth hums, shudders.

“Maybe my ears are buzzing with fatigue,” she thought.

But why then did the spoon rattle and rattle in the teacup on the table by the window?

Incomprehensible, disturbing sounds. This formidable rumble did not let sleep. How was it to be known that this rumble meant a myriad of military equipment being pulled up to our borders? After all, the Germans planned a blitz-krieg - an instant victory. To do this, it was necessary to attack suddenly, on a wide front, using the maximum number of tanks, aircraft and everything else intended to kill, destroy, destroy.

Tanya lay awake, with longing in her heart. Outside her windows, laughter and singing were heard: the guys were returning from dances. She glanced at her watch: two in the morning.

The shortest night of the year will soon be over … This incessant hum will subside, and tomorrow everything will go on as usual, and all the night worries that arise when you have to sleep in a new place will be forgotten.

We will remember

And how I want everything to be exactly like that!

So that all the worries of that distant beautiful night of 1941 are dispelled! So that a peaceful life goes on, with peaceful plans and hopes.

Let it be!

But is it possible to redo something in the past?

An hour later, bombs fell on the town. Sleepy people jumped out of their houses, not understanding anything. We know now: they were taken by surprise. In every way. They were not properly armed. They were not warned, on the contrary, all warning signs from the side of the border were supposed to be regarded as a provocation. And in this case: practically unarmed and morally unprepared for resistance, they were practically doomed to death.

Tetin's boss ordered the immediate destruction of the documentation. Weapons were handed out to the officers. It was not enough for everyone.

The count was kept for minutes. Young wives, barely awake, were seated in the back of a truck. Some of them were in summer dresses, and some in nightgowns with blouses draped over them.

Husbands said goodbye to their wives forever.

Everyone understood this: both men and young women.

- Goodbye! Remember!

None of them returned. All were killed. They, an hour ago carelessly joking, lovers, full of life and hope, defended our land to the last.

The Germans moved swiftly. But the blitz krieg failed.

The truck that carried women away from the war was rushing under the bombardment towards Minsk. Next to Tanechka was her friend Dinka, a young officer's wife who had been married for less than a month.

They managed to break through to Moscow. At home, the aunt was waiting for a letter from Belarus, from her native places: "How is our poor Tanechka, did she survive, did she manage to escape from this hell?" - worried relatives who knew where she was in the first hours of the war.

Tanya broke free. But reading the letter, full of love and concern about her, she did not know that those who worried about her life are no longer in this world: everyone was shot by the invaders, who in a matter of days captured her hometown.

Then there was the war.

Galina Artemieva - professional writer, candidate of philological sciences. And she is also the mother of the musician Pasha Artemiev, (ex-member of the group "Roots"). She recently published a new book, The Prodigal Daughter.

I heard this story not only from my aunt. A frequent guest at our house was that same Dinka, a beautiful blue-eyed fair-haired Volzhanka, who remained a widow on the first day of the war. She remembered her husband. I never stopped loving him. Most of all she regretted that they had not had time to give birth to a child. The thread of his life was cut off for good.

She was in her late forties when she gave birth to a baby girl. I never got married again. They wooed, but failed to fall in love. And her girl grew up wonderful, she had her own children. And they also know this story of the first day of the war. The day when no one retreated, did not run away, saving his skin. The day when they said goodbye forever to their young happiness, to life, understanding what a duty to the Motherland is, what an honor is.