Any story about the war is very short. War stories

During the Great Patriotic War, not only adults, but also children experienced suffering and grief. You will learn about one such boy by reading the story of Sergei Alekseev. Learn about the kind heart of a Soviet soldier.

GENNADY STALINGRADOVICH

In the fighting Stalingrad, in the midst of the fighting, among the smoke, metal, fire and ruins, the soldiers picked up the boy. A tiny boy, a bead boy.

- What is your name?

— How old are you?

“Five,” the boy answered importantly.

The soldiers warmed, fed, sheltered the boy. They took the bead to headquarters. He ended up at the command post of General Chuikov.

The boy was smart. Only a day had passed, and he already remembered almost all the commanders. Not only did he not confuse his face, he knew the names of everyone and even, imagine, he could call everyone by their first and middle names.

The baby knows that the commander of the army, Lieutenant General Chuikov, is Vasily Ivanovich. Chief of Staff of the Army, Major General Krylov - Nikolai Ivanovich. Member of the Military Council of the Army Divisional Commissar Gurov - Kuzma Akimovich. Artillery Commander General Pozharsky - Nikolai Mitrofanovich. The head of the armored forces of the Weinrub army is Matvey Grigorievich.

The boy was amazing. Brave. I immediately sniffed out where the warehouse was, where the kitchen was, how the staff cook Glinka was called by his first name and patronymic, how to call adjutants, messengers, messengers. Walks importantly, greets everyone:

- Hello, Pavel Vasilyevich! ..

- Hello, Atkar Ibrahimovic! ..

- I wish you good health, Semyon Nikodimovich! ..

- Greetings to you, Kayum Kalimulinovich! ..

And the generals, and officers, and privates - everyone fell in love with the boy. They also began to call the baby by name and patronymic. Someone first said:

— Stalingradovich!

And so it went. Meet the little bead boy:

- We wish you good health, Gennady Stalingradovich! Satisfied boy. Pouts lips:

- Thanks to!

War is raging all around. No place in hell for a boy.

- To the left bank of it! To the left! The soldiers began to say goodbye to the boy:

— Good road to you, Stalingradovich!

- Gain strength!

- Take care of honor from a young age, Stalingradovich! He left with a passing boat. A boy is standing on the side. Waving his hand to the soldiers.

The soldiers escorted the bead and again to their military affairs. As if there was no boy, as if a dream had been dreamed.

TITAEV

November. Zavyuzhilo. Snow.

The unenviable life of signalmen. Snow, bad weather, mud, planes are bombing from the sky, shells are raising the ground, bullets are spreading death - be ready for the campaign, signalman. The wiring was damaged by a bomb, the wire was cut off by a shell, the fascist intelligence agent destroyed the connection - get ready, soldier, on the road.

In November, battles began for Mamaev Kurgan.

In the midst of the battle, the telephone connection with the command post of the division was interrupted. From the command post, it was the gunners who were given commands to fire at targets. The teams are broken now. Artillery fire ceased.

Signalman Titaev came out to repair the damage.

Titaev crawls along the wire, looking for where the break occurred. Low clouds hang over Titaev. The snow is blowing. To the left are enemy trenches. Mortars are firing. Machine guns chirp. The battle rages.

Titaev is crawling, staring at the wire, looking for the end of the cliff. Bullets whistle over the soldier. Leads astray.

“En, you won’t shoot down! ..” the blizzard soldier shouted. - En, you won't take it! .. - Titaev shouted to the bullets.

The soldier is crawling. And there, on the mound, the battle rumbles. And artillery fire is needed like air. Titaev understands this. Hurry up. Thirty meters ahead, a funnel from an explosion appeared. That's where it is, damage. Ten meters left. Five. Crawled to the funnel soldiers. Here he is at the edge. Here lies a wire cut with a steel fragment. Titaev picked up one end. Pulls faster second...

Silent, silent phone at the command post and suddenly started working. The commander breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well done,” he praised the signalmen.

“So this is Titaev,” someone answered. - The first article of the soldier.

They know Titaev. They love in the division. They are waiting in the liaison company for when Titaev will return. The fighter is not returning. Two soldiers went in search of the signalman. They follow the same path. Low clouds hang above them. The wind sweeps the snow. To the left are enemy trenches. The machine guns are still firing. Machine guns chirp. The battle rages. Soviet artillery fired up. Covers the noise of battle, pleases the soldier's ear. Crawling, looking forward soldiers. They see a funnel. Titaev was recognized at the edge of the funnel. The fighter pressed to the ground.

— Titaev!

— Titaev!

Titaev is silent.

The soldiers crept closer. They looked - dead, motionless Titaev.

In war, soldiers are used to many things. You will not surprise them in battle with a feat. But here...

It turned out that at the moment when Titaev, having discovered a broken wire, was trying to connect its ends, a deadly bullet overtook the soldier. The soldier does not have the strength to repair the damage. But, saying goodbye to life, losing consciousness, at the last second the soldier managed to bring the wires to his mouth. Clamped, as in a vise, with his teeth.

- Fire! Fire! - the team is rushing along the wire.

And here is the answer:

- There is fire. How is the connection, how is the connection?

- Communication works great.

- Fire! Fire!

We crushed our enemy troops. And there, closing the funnels, lay a soldier. No, he did not lie - he stood at the post of a soldier.

He was on duty as a soldier.

Sergey Alekseev's stories about the Great Patriotic War. Interesting, informative and unusual stories about the behavior of soldiers, fighters during the war.

GARDENERS

It was shortly before the Battle of Kursk. Reinforcements arrived in the infantry unit.

The foreman walked around the fighters. Walks along the line. Next comes the corporal. Holds a pencil and notebook in his hands.

The foreman looked at the first of the fighters:

Can you plant potatoes?

Can you plant potatoes?

- I can! the soldier said loudly.

- Two steps forward.

The soldier is out of order.

“Write to the gardeners,” said the foreman to the corporal.

Can you plant potatoes?

- I haven't tried it.

- I didn't have to, but if I had to...

“Enough,” said the foreman.

The fighters stepped forward. Anatoliy Skurko found himself in the ranks of able-bodied soldiers. The soldier Skurko wonders: where are they who know how? “To plant potatoes is so late in time. (Summer has already begun to play with might and main.) If you dig it, then it’s very early in time.

The soldier Skurko is guessing. And other fighters wonder:

- Plant potatoes?

- Sow carrots?

— Cucumbers for the staff canteen?

The foreman looked at the soldier.

“Well, then,” said the foreman. - From now on, you will be in the miners, - and hands mines to the soldiers.

The dashing foreman noticed that the one who knows how to plant potatoes puts mines faster and more reliably.

Soldier Skurko chuckled. Other soldiers could not help but smile.

The gardeners got to work. Of course, not immediately, not at the same moment. Planting mines is not an easy task. Soldiers have undergone special training.

Miners extended minefields and barriers for many kilometers to the north, south, west of Kursk. On the first day of the Battle of Kursk alone, more than a hundred fascist tanks and self-propelled guns were blown up in these fields and barriers.

The miners are coming.

How are you, gardeners?

- Full order in everything.

UNUSUAL OPERATION

Mokapka Zyablov was amazed. Something strange was going on at the station. The boy lived with his grandfather and grandmother near the town of Sudzhi in a small workers' settlement at the Lokinskaya station. He was the son of a hereditary railway worker.

Mokapka liked to hang around the station for hours. Especially these days. One by one trains come here. Bringing military equipment. Mokapka knows that our troops beat the Nazis near Kursk. Chasing enemies to the west. Although small, but with the mind of Mokapka, he sees that trains are coming here. He understands: it means that here, in these places, a further offensive is planned.

Trains are coming, locomotives are puffing. Soldiers unload military cargo.

Mokapka was spinning somehow near the tracks. He sees: a new echelon has arrived. Tanks are on platforms. Lot. The boy began to count the tanks. Looked closely - and they are wooden. How to fight them?!

The boy rushed to his grandmother.

“Wooden,” he whispers, “tanks.

- Really? Grandma threw up her hands. Rushed to grandfather:

- Wooden, grandfather, tanks. Raised the old eyes on the grandson. The boy ran to the station. Looks: the train is coming again. The composition stopped. Mockup looked - the guns are on the platforms. Lot. No less than there were tanks.

Mokapka took a closer look - after all, the guns are also, in any way, wooden! Instead of trunks - round timbers stick out.

The boy rushed to his grandmother.

“Wooden,” he whispers, “cannons.

- Really? .. - Grandma threw up her hands. Rushed to grandfather:

- Wooden, grandfather, guns.

“Something new,” said the grandfather.

A lot of incomprehensible things were going on at the station then. Arrived somehow boxes with shells. Mountains have grown of these boxes. Satisfied Mockup:

- It's great to pour our fascists!

And suddenly he finds out: empty boxes at the station. “Why such-and-such and whole mountains?!” the boy guesses.

And here is something completely incomprehensible. Troops are coming. Lot. The column hurries after the column. They go in the open, they come in the dark.

The boy has an easy temper. I got to know the soldiers right away. Until dark, everything was spinning around. In the morning he again runs to the soldiers. And then he finds out: the soldiers left these places at night.

Mockapka is standing, guessing again.

Mokapka did not know that ours used a military trick under Sudzha.

The Nazis are conducting reconnaissance from aircraft for the Soviet troops. They see: trains come to the station, they bring tanks, they bring guns.

The Nazis also notice mountains of boxes with shells. They detect that troops are moving here. Lot. A column follows a column. The Nazis see how the troops are approaching, but the enemy does not know that they are leaving unnoticed from here at night.

"MONUMENT TO THE SOVIET SOLDIER"

L. Kassil

The war went on for a long time.
Our troops began to advance on enemy soil. The Nazis are already farther and have nowhere to run. They settled in the main German city of Berlin.
Our troops hit Berlin. The last battle of the war began. No matter how the Nazis fought back, they could not resist. The soldiers of the Soviet Army in Berlin began to take street after street, house after house. But the Nazis don't give up.
And suddenly one of our soldiers, a kind soul, saw a little German girl during a battle on the street. Apparently, she has fallen behind her. And they forgot about her out of fright ... The poor fellow was left alone in the middle of the street. And she has nowhere to go. There is a fight all around. Fire blazes from every window, bombs explode, houses collapse, bullets whistle from all sides. It’s about to crush it with a stone, knock it down with a fragment ... He sees our soldier - the girl disappears ... “Oh, you, miserable woman, where did this bring you, something was wrong! ..”
A soldier rushed across the street right under the bullets, picked up a German girl in his arms, covered her with his shoulder from the fire and carried her out of the battle.
And soon our fighters have already raised the red flag over the main building of the German capital.
Fascists surrendered. And the war is over. We won. The world has begun.
And now a huge monument has been built in the city of Berlin. High above the houses, on a green hill, stands a hero made of stone - a soldier of the Soviet Army. In one hand he has a heavy sword, with which he defeated the Nazi enemies, and in the other - a little girl. She pressed herself against the broad shoulder of the Soviet soldier. He saved her soldiers from death, saved all the children in the world from the Nazis, and looks menacingly today from a height, whether the evil enemies are going to start a war again and disturb the peace.

"FIRST COLUMN"

S. Alekseev

(Sergey Alekseev's stories about Leningraders and the feat of Leningrad).
In 1941, the Nazis blockaded Leningrad. Cut off the city from the whole country. It was possible to get to Leningrad only by water, along Lake Ladoga.
Frosts set in in November. It froze, the waterway stopped.
The road has stopped, which means there will be no delivery of food, which means there will be no delivery of fuel, there will be no delivery of ammunition. Like air, like oxygen, Leningrad needs a road.
- There will be a road! people said.
Lake Ladoga will freeze, Ladoga will be covered with strong ice (as Lake Ladoga is abbreviated). Here the road will pass through the ice.
Not everyone believed in such a path. Restless, capricious Ladoga. Blizzards will rage, a piercing wind will sweep over the lake - siverik - cracks and gullies will appear on the ice of the lake. Ladoga breaks his ice armor. Even the most severe frosts cannot completely bind Lake Ladoga.
Capricious, insidious Lake Ladoga. And yet there is no other way out. Nazis around. Only here, along Lake Ladoga, the road to Leningrad can pass.
The most difficult days in Leningrad. Communication with Leningrad was cut off. People are waiting for the ice on Lake Ladoga to become strong enough. And this is not a day, not two. Look at the ice, at the lake. Ice thickness is measured. Old-timer fishermen also watch the lake. How is the ice on Ladoga?
- Grows.
- It's growing.
- Takes power.
People are worried, time is running out.
“Faster, faster,” they shout to Ladoga. - Hey, don't be lazy, frost!
Hydrological scientists arrived at Lake Ladoga (these are those who study water and ice), builders and army commanders arrived. The first decided to go through the fragile ice.
Hydrologists passed - the ice withstood.
The builders passed - the ice withstood.
Major Mozhaev, the commander of the road maintenance regiment, rode on horseback and withstood the ice.
The horse-drawn cart marched across the ice. The sleigh survived on the road.
General Lagunov, one of the commanders of the Leningrad Front, drove across the ice in a passenger car. It crackled, creaked, the ice got angry, but let the car pass.
On November 22, 1941, the first automobile column went on the still not fully strengthened ice of Lake Ladoga. There were 60 trucks in the convoy. From here, from the western shore, from the side of Leningrad, cars left for cargo on the eastern shore.
Ahead is not a kilometer, not two - twenty-seven kilometers of an icy road. They are waiting on the western Leningrad coast for the return of people and convoys.
- Will they return? Get stuck? Will they return? Get stuck?
Days passed. And so:
- They're coming!
That's right, cars are coming, the convoy is returning. In the back of each of the cars there are three, four bags of flour. Haven't taken more yet. Fragile ice. True, sleds were pulled by cars in tows. The sleigh also contained sacks of flour, two or three.
From that day on, constant movement began on the ice of Lake Ladoga. Soon severe frosts hit. The ice is strong. Now each truck took 20, 30 bags of flour. Transported on the ice and other heavy loads.
The road was not easy. There were not always good luck here. The ice broke under the pressure of the wind. Cars sometimes sank. Fascist planes bombed columns from the air. And again we suffered losses. Motors froze on the way. Drivers froze on ice. And yet, neither day nor night, neither in a snowstorm, nor in the most severe frost, the ice road through Lake Ladoga did not stop working.
The most difficult days of Leningrad were standing. Stop the road - death to Leningrad.
The road didn't stop. "Dear life" Leningraders called it.

"Tanya Savicheva"

S. Alekseev

Hunger death goes through the city. Leningrad cemeteries do not accommodate the dead. People were dying at the machines. They died in the streets. They went to bed at night and didn't wake up in the morning. More than 600 thousand people died of starvation in Leningrad.
Among the Leningrad houses, this house also rose. This is the Savichevs' house. The girl was bending over the sheets of the notebook. Her name is Tanya. Tanya Savicheva keeps a diary.
Notebook with alphabet. Tanya opens a page with the letter "Zh". Writes:
“Zhenya died on December 28 at 12.30 pm. morning. 1941".
Zhenya is Tanya's sister.
Soon Tanya again sits down at her diary. Opens a page with the letter "B". Writes:
“Grandma died on Jan 25. at 3 o'clock in the afternoon 1942. A new page from Tanya's diary. Page on the letter "L". Reading:
"Leka died on March 17 at 5 am 1942." Leka is Tanya's brother.
Another page from Tanya's diary. Page on the letter "B". Reading:
“Uncle Vasya died on April 13. at 2 am. 1942". One more page. Also the letter "L". But it is written on the back of the sheet: “Uncle Lyosha. May 10 at 4 p.m. 1942. Here is the page with the letter "M". We read: “Mom May 13 at 7:30 am. morning 1942. Tanya sits over the diary for a long time. Then opens the page with the letter "C". He writes: "The Savichevs are dead."
Opens the page to the letter "U". Clarifies: "Everyone died."
I sat down. I looked at the diary. Opened the page to the letter "O". She wrote: “There is only Tanya left.”
Tanya was saved from starvation. They took the girl out of Leningrad.
But Tanya did not live long. From hunger, cold, loss of loved ones, her health was undermined. Tanya Savicheva was also gone. Tanya passed away. The diary remains. "Death to the Fascists!" the diary screams.

"FUR COAT"

S. Alekseev

A group of Leningrad children was taken out of Leningrad besieged by the Nazis "Dear Life". The car took off.
January. Freezing. The cold wind is whipping. The driver Koryakov is sitting at the steering wheel. Leads exactly one and a half.
Children hugged each other in the car. Girl, girl, girl again. Boy, girl, boy again. And here is another one. The smallest, the most puny. All the guys are thin, thin, like children's thin books. And this one is completely skinny, like a page from this book.
Guys gathered from different places. Some are from Okhta, some are from Narva, some are from the Vyborg side, some are from Kirovsky Island, some are from Vasilyevsky. And this one, imagine, from Nevsky Prospekt. Nevsky Prospekt is the central, main street of Leningrad. The boy lived here with his father, with his mother. A shell hit, there were no parents. Yes, and others, those who are now traveling in the car, were also left without mothers, without fathers. Their parents also died. Who died of starvation, who was hit by a fascist bomb, who was crushed by a collapsed house, whose life was cut short by a shell. The boys were all alone. Aunt Olya accompanies them. Aunt Olya herself is a teenager. Less than fifteen years old.
The guys are coming. They hugged each other. Girl, girl, girl again. Boy, girl, boy again. In the very middle is a crumb. The guys are coming. January. Freezing. Blows children in the wind. Aunt Olya wrapped her arms around them. From these warm hands it seems warmer to everyone.
There is a lorry and a half on the January ice. Ladoga froze to the right and left. More and more, stronger frost over Ladoga. Childish backs stiffen. Not children are sitting - icicles.
Here would be a fur coat now.
And suddenly... She slowed down, the lorry stopped. The driver Koryakov got out of the cab. He took off his warm soldier's sheepskin coat. He threw Olya up, shouting: . - Catch!
Olya picked up a sheepskin coat:
— Yes, how are you... Yes, really, we...
- Take it, take it! shouted Koryakov and jumped into his cabin.
The guys look - a fur coat! From one kind it is warmer.
The driver sat down in his driver's seat. The car started up again. Aunt Olya covered the children with a sheepskin coat. The children huddled closer to each other. Girl, girl, girl again. Boy, girl, boy again. In the very middle is a crumb. The sheepskin coat turned out to be big and kind. Warmth ran down the children's backs.
Koryakov took the guys to the eastern shore of Lake Ladoga, delivered them to the village of Kobona. From here, from Kobona, they still had a long, long way to go. Koryakov said goodbye to Aunt Olya. I started saying goodbye to the guys. He is holding a sheepskin coat. He looks at the sheepskin coat, at the guys. Oh, if the guys had a sheepskin coat on the road ... So, after all, it’s official, not your sheepskin coat. The authorities will immediately remove the head. The driver looks at the guys, at the sheepskin coat. And suddenly...
- Oh, it wasn't! Koryakov waved his hand.
I went on sheepskin coat.
He was not scolded by his superiors. Got a new coat.

"BEAR"

S. Alekseev

The soldiers of one of the Siberian divisions in those days when the division went to the front, fellow countrymen gave a little bear cub. Mishka got used to the soldier's car. Importantly went to the front.
Toptygin came to the front. The teddy bear turned out to be extremely smart. And most importantly, from birth he had a heroic character. Not afraid of bombings. It did not clog into corners during artillery shelling. He only grumbled with displeasure if the shells were bursting very close.
Mishka visited the Southwestern Front, then - as part of the troops that crushed the Nazis near Stalingrad. Then for some time he was with the troops in the rear, in the front-line reserve. Then he ended up as part of the 303rd Infantry Division on the Voronezh Front, then on the Central, again on the Voronezh. He was in the armies of generals Managarov, Chernyakhovsky, again Managarov. The teddy bear grew up during this time. It resounded in the shoulders. The bass cut through. It became a boyar fur coat.
In the battles near Kharkov, the bear distinguished himself. At the crossings he walked with a convoy in an economic column. So it was this time. There were heavy, bloody battles. Once the economic column came under a strong blow from the Nazis. The Nazis surrounded the column. The forces are unequal, it's hard for ours. The soldiers took up defense. Only the defense is weak. The Soviet soldiers would not leave.
Yes, but suddenly the Nazis hear some kind of terrible roar! "What would it be?" the fascists say. Listened, watched.
— Ber! Ber! Bear! someone shouted.
That's right - Mishka got up on his hind legs, growled and went to the Nazis. The Nazis did not expect, they rushed to the side. And ours hit at that moment. Escaped from the environment.
The bear walked in heroes.
“He should be rewarded,” laughed the soldiers.
He received a reward: a plate of fragrant honey. Ate and growled. I licked the plate to a shine, to a shine. Added honey. Added again. Eat, eat, hero. Toptygin!
Soon the Voronezh Front was renamed the 1st Ukrainian. Together with the troops of the front, Mishka went to the Dnieper.
Bear grew up. Quite a giant. Where are the soldiers during the war to mess with such a bulk! The soldiers decided: if we come to Kyiv, we will put him in the zoo. We will write on the cage: the bear is a well-deserved veteran and a participant in the great battle.
However, the road to Kyiv passed. Their division passed by. The bear was not left in the menagerie. Even the soldiers are happy now.
From Ukraine Mishka got to Belarus. He took part in the battles near Bobruisk, then ended up in the army, which was going to Belovezhskaya Pushcha.
Belovezhskaya Pushcha is a paradise for animals and birds. The best place in the entire planet. The soldiers decided: this is where we will leave Mishka.
- That's right: under his pines. Under the fir.
- That's where he expanse.
Our troops liberated the area of ​​Belovezhskaya Pushcha. And now the hour of parting has come. Fighters and a bear are standing in a forest clearing.
Farewell, Toptygin!
- Play freely!
- Live, start a family!
Mishka stood in the clearing. He got up on his hind legs. Looked at the green bushes. The smell of the forest inhaled through the nose.
He went with a rolling gait into the forest. From paw to paw. From paw to paw. The soldiers look after:
— Be happy, Mikhail Mikhalych!
And suddenly a terrible explosion thundered in the clearing. The soldiers ran to the explosion - dead, motionless Toptygin.
A bear stepped on a fascist mine. We checked - there are many of them in Belovezhskaya Pushcha.
The war moved further west. But for a long time here, in Belovezhskaya Pushcha, wild boars, handsome elks, and giant bison exploded on mines.
The war goes on without mercy. War has no weariness.

"STING"

S. Alekseev

Our troops liberated Moldova. The Nazis were pushed back beyond the Dnieper, beyond Reut. They took Floreshty, Tiraspol, Orhei. We approached the capital of Moldova, the city of Chisinau.
Here two of our fronts advanced at once - the 2nd Ukrainian and the 3rd Ukrainian. Near Chisinau, Soviet troops were supposed to surround a large fascist group. Fulfill the fronts of the indication of the Rate. To the north and west of Chisinau, the 2nd Ukrainian Front is advancing. East and south - the 3rd Ukrainian Front. Generals Malinovsky and Tolbukhin were at the head of the fronts.
“Fyodor Ivanovich,” General Malinovsky calls General Tolbukhin, “how is the offensive developing?”
“Everything is going according to plan, Rodion Yakovlevich,” General Tolbukhin answers General Malinovsky.
Troops march forward. They bypass the enemy. Ticks begin to squeeze.
- Rodion Yakovlevich, - General Tolbukhin calls General Malinovsky, - how is the environment developing?
“The encirclement is proceeding normally, Fyodor Ivanovich,” General Malinovsky answers General Tolbukhin and clarifies: “Exactly according to plan, on time.”
And then the giant pincers closed. Eighteen fascist divisions turned out to be in a huge bag near Chisinau. Our troops began to defeat the fascists who fell into the bag.
Satisfied Soviet soldiers:
- The beast will be slammed again with a trap.
There was talk: now the fascist is not terrible, at least take it with your bare hands.
However, the soldier Igoshin had a different opinion:
A fascist is a fascist. The serpentine character is serpentine. A wolf and a wolf in a trap.
The soldiers laugh
- So it was at what time!
“Now there is a different price for a fascist.
- A fascist is a fascist, - again Igoshin about his own.
That's because the character is harmful!
Everything is more difficult in the bag for the Nazis. They began to surrender. They also surrendered at the site of the 68th Guards Rifle Division. Igoshin served in one of her battalions.
A group of fascists came out of the forest. Everything is as it should be: hands up, a white flag is thrown over the group.
“Obviously, they’re going to give up.
The soldiers revived, shouting to the Nazis:
- Please, please! It is high time!
The soldiers turned to Igoshin:
- Well, why is your fascist terrible?
Soldiers are crowding, they are looking at the Nazis going to surrender. There are newcomers in the battalion. For the first time, the Nazis are seen so close. And they, the newcomers, are also not at all afraid of the Nazis - after all, they are going to surrender.
The Nazis are getting closer, closer. Close at all. And suddenly burst burst. The Nazis began to shoot.
A lot of ours would have died. Yes, thanks to Igoshin. He kept his weapon at the ready. The retaliatory immediately opened fire. Then others helped.
The firing went off on the field. The soldiers approached Igoshin:
- Thank you brother. And the fascist, look, with a snake indeed, it turns out, a sting.
The Chisinau “cauldron” brought a lot of trouble to our soldiers. The fascists rushed. They rushed in different directions. Went to deceit, to meanness. They tried to leave. But in vain. Soldiers clamped them with a heroic hand. Clamped. Squeezed. The snake's sting was pulled out.

"BAG OF OATMEAL"
A.V. Mityaev

That autumn there were long cold rains. The ground was soaked with water, the roads became muddy. On the country roads, bogged down along the very axis in the mud, there were military trucks. With the supply of food became very bad. In the soldiers' kitchen, the cook cooked only cracker soup every day: he poured cracker crumbs into hot water and seasoned it with salt.
On such and such hungry days, the soldier Lukashuk found a sack of oatmeal. He was not looking for anything, just leaned his shoulder against the wall of the trench. A block of damp sand collapsed, and everyone saw the edge of a green duffel bag in the hole.
Well, what a find! the soldiers rejoiced. There will be a feast with a mountain Let's cook porridge!
One ran with a bucket for water, others began to look for firewood, and still others had already prepared spoons.
But when it was possible to fan the fire and it was already beating at the bottom of the bucket, an unfamiliar soldier jumped into the trench. He was thin and red. Eyebrows above blue eyes are also red. Overcoat worn, short. On the legs are windings and trampled shoes.
- Hey brother! he shouted in a hoarse, cold voice. “Give the bag over here!” Do not put do not take.
He simply stunned everyone with his appearance, and the bag was given to him immediately.
And how could you not give up? According to the front-line law, it was necessary to give. Duffel bags were hidden in trenches by soldiers when they went on the attack. To make it easier. Of course, there were bags left without an owner: either it was impossible to return for them (this is if the attack was successful and it was necessary to drive the Nazis), or the soldier died. But since the owner has come, the conversation is short to give.
The soldiers watched in silence as the redhead carried the precious sack over his shoulder. Only Lukashuk could not stand it, he quipped:
- He's skinny! They gave him an extra ration. Let it burst. If it doesn't break, it might get fatter.
The cold has come. Snow. The earth froze, became solid. The delivery has improved. The cook cooked cabbage soup with meat, pea soup with ham in the kitchen on wheels. Everyone forgot about the red-haired soldier and his oatmeal.

A big offensive was being prepared.
Long lines of infantry battalions marched along hidden forest roads and ravines. At night, tractors were dragging guns to the front line, tanks were moving.
Lukashuk and his comrades were also preparing for the offensive. It was still dark when the guns opened fire. Airplanes hummed in the sky.
They threw bombs on Nazi dugouts, fired machine guns at enemy trenches.
The planes took off. Then the tanks roared. Behind them, the infantrymen rushed to the attack. Lukashuk and his comrades also ran and fired from a machine gun. He threw a grenade into the German trench, wanted to throw more, but did not have time: the bullet hit him in the chest. And he fell. Lukashuk lay in the snow and did not feel that the snow was cold. Some time passed, and he stopped hearing the roar of battle. Then the light ceased to see him, it seemed to him that a dark, still night had come.
When Lukashuk regained consciousness, he saw an orderly. The orderly bandaged the wound, put such plywood sledges in Lukashuk's boat. The sleigh slid and swayed in the snow. Lukashuk's head began to spin from this quiet swaying. And he didn't want his head to spin, he wanted to remember where he had seen this orderly, red-haired and thin, in a well-worn overcoat.
- Hold on, brother! Do not be shy to live! .. He heard the words of the orderly.
It seemed to Lukashuk that he had known this voice for a long time. But where and when he heard it before, he could no longer remember.
Lukashuk regained consciousness when he was transferred from the boat to a stretcher to be taken to a large tent under the pines: here, in the forest, a military doctor was pulling out bullets and shrapnel from the wounded.
Lying on a stretcher, Lukashuk saw the sled-boat on which he was taken to the hospital. Three dogs were tied to the sled with straps. They lay in the snow. Icicles are frozen on the wool. The muzzles were overgrown with frost, the eyes of the dogs were half closed.
The nurse approached the dogs. In his hands was a helmet full of oatmeal. Steam poured from her. The orderly stuck his helmet into the snow to cool the dogs harmfully hot. The orderly was thin and red-haired. And then Lukashuk remembered where he had seen him. It was he who then jumped into the trench and took the bag of oatmeal from them.
Lukashuk smiled at the orderly with his lips, and, coughing and panting, said:
-And you, redhead, never got fat. One ate a bag of oatmeal, but still thin.
The orderly also smiled and, stroking the nearest dog, answered:
- They ate oatmeal. But they got you on time. And I recognized you right away. As I saw in the snow, I recognized it.
And he added with conviction: You will live! Don't be shy!

"TANKER'S TALE"

A. Tvardovsky

It was a difficult fight. Everything now, as if awake,


What's his name, I forgot to ask.
Ten or twelve years old. troublesome,
Of those that are the leaders of children,
Of those in the front-line towns
They greet us like honored guests.
The car is surrounded in parking lots,
Carrying them water in buckets is not difficult,
They bring soap with a towel to the tank
And unripe plums stick ...
There was a fight outside. The fire of the enemy was terrible,
We broke through to the square ahead.
And he nails - do not look out of the towers -
And the devil will understand where it hits from.
Here, guess what house
He perched - so many holes,
And suddenly a boy ran up to the car:
- Comrade Commander, Comrade Commander!
I know where their gun is. I unraveled...
I crawled up, they are over there, in the garden ...
- Yes, where, where? .. - Let me go
On the tank with you. I'll bring it straight.
Well, the fight doesn't wait. "Get in here, buddy!" -
And here we are rolling to the place four of us.
There is a boy - mines, bullets whistle,
And only a shirt with a bubble.
We drove up. - Here. - And from a turn
We go to the rear and give full throttle.
And this gun, along with the calculation,
We sank into loose, greasy black soil.
I wiped off the sweat. Suffocated fumes and soot:
There was a big fire going from house to house.
And, I remember, I said: - Thank you, lad! -
And shook his hand like a friend...
It was a difficult fight. Everything now, as if awake,
And I just can't forgive myself
Of the thousands of faces I would recognize the boy,
But what's his name, I forgot to ask him.

"THE ADVENTURES OF THE RHINO BEETLE"
(Soldier's Tale)
K. G. Paustovsky

When Pyotr Terentyev left the village for the war, his little son Styopa
did not know what to give his father as parting, and finally gave the old
rhinoceros beetle. He caught him in the garden and planted him in a matchbox. Rhinoceros
got angry, knocked, demanded to be let out. But Styopa did not let him out, but
I slipped blades of grass into his box so that the beetle would not die of hunger. Rhinoceros
I gnawed at the blades of grass, but still continued to knock and scold.
Styopa cut a small window in the box to let in fresh air. Bug
stuck out his shaggy paw at the window and tried to grab Styopa by the finger - he wanted to
must be scratching with anger. But Styopa did not give a finger. Then the beetle began
so buzzing with annoyance that Styopa Akulina's mother shouted:
- Let him out, you goblin! All day zhundit and zhundit, head from him
swollen!
Pyotr Terentyev grinned at Stepin's gift, patted Styopa on the head
with a rough hand and hid the box with the beetle in a gas mask bag.
“Just don’t lose him, save him,” Styopa said.
- Somehow you can lose such goodies, - answered Peter. - Somehow
save.
Either the beetle liked the smell of rubber, or Peter smelled pleasantly of his overcoat and
black bread, but the beetle calmed down and drove with Peter to the very front.
At the front, the soldiers were surprised at the beetle, touched its strong horn with their fingers,
listened to Peter's story about his son's gift, they said:
What was the boy thinking! And the beetle, you see, is combat. Straight corporal, not
bug.
The fighters were interested in how long the beetle would last and how he was doing with
food allowance - what Peter will feed and water him. He is without water, although
beetle, but can not live.
Peter smiled embarrassedly, answered that if you give a beetle some spikelet - he
and eat for a week. Does he need a lot?
One night, Peter dozed off in the trenches, dropped the box with the beetle out of his bag. Bug
tossed and turned for a long time, parted the slot in the box, got out, wiggled his antennae,
listened. The earth rumbled in the distance, yellow lightning flashed.
The beetle climbed onto the elderberry bush at the edge of the trench to get a better look around. Such
He hasn't seen the storm yet. There were too many lightning. The stars didn't hang still
in the sky, like a beetle in their homeland, in Peter's village, but they took off from the ground,
illuminated everything around with a bright light, smoked and went out. Thunder rumbled continuously.
Some bugs whistled past. One of them hit the bush like that
elderberry, that red berries fell from it. The old rhinoceros fell, pretended to be
dead and was afraid to move for a long time. He realized that with such beetles it is better not to
contact, - there were a lot of them whistling around.
So he lay until the morning, until the sun rose.

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 the 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 full, full of the 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 harvesting, 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, let's reward you for your courage with a red star, - smiling, said the senior policeman, 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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