S. Alekseev

Sergey Petrovich Alekseev; USSR, Moscow; 04/01/1922 – 05/16/2008

Sergei Alekseev's stories for children about the historical past of our country have gained wide popularity among readers. The unpretentious, simple and, most importantly, interesting form of presentation in Sergei Alekseev’s stories allowed him to instill a love of history in more than one generation. For this, Alekseev was awarded awards and titles more than once, but public recognition became the best reward for him. The best confirmation of this is the presence of Sergei Alekseev’s books in our rating.

Biography of Sergei Alekseev

The parents of Sergei Petrovich Alekseev met at the front of the First World War. Soon the doctor and nurse got married, and in 1922 Sergei appeared. Until the age of nine he was raised at home and it was here that he learned to write and read. Then he was sent to study in Voronezh, and his mother’s sisters looked after him. These were women in love with reading who instilled a love of books in Sergei Alekseev.

At school, Alekseev was a very diligent student and always participated in all sports and social events. For this he received certificates of honor and gratitude more than once. In 1940, Sergei graduated from school and faced a difficult choice before choosing a profession. His aunts predicted for him the glory of a scientist and historian, but he chose the profession of an aviator and entered the flight school in the city of Postavy.

In the summer of 1941, cadets of the school were near the border at training camps. Therefore, Sergei was one of the first to feel the beginning of World War II. Their camp was severely bombed and many of his comrades died that day. The school received an order to retreat and Sergei Petrovich Alekseev ended up in Orenburg. Here he entered another flight school, as well as a pedagogical institute. After graduating from college, Sergei asked to go to the front, but he was left to train other pilots. In those days, many new aircraft came and instructors had to learn to fly them themselves. On one of these flights, Alekseev’s car caught fire, and he had difficulty landing the plane, receiving multiple injuries. These injuries were not consistent with aviation.

Sergei Alekseev became a writer after the end of the war. He came to work at the Detgiz publishing house and soon began writing the first stories for children about great commanders and battles. Soon, in collaboration with Kartsev, he published a history textbook for primary schools, and then became more and more interested in fiction. In 1965, Sergei Alekseev, a writer, headed the Children's Literature publishing house, where he worked until 1996. Alekseev died in 2008.

Sergei Alekseev books on the Top books website

Sergei Alekseev's stories for children have gained wide popularity. So Sergei Alekseev’s book “One Hundred Stories about War” is so popular to read that it took a high place among. At the same time, on the eve of Victory Day, interest in this book by Sergei Alekseev always increases. So it is quite possible that in future ratings of our site we will see Sergei Alekseev’s stories for children more than once.

Sergei Alekseev list of books

Alexander Suvorov
Bogatyrsky surnames: stories
Great Catherine
Great Moscow Battle
Capture of Berlin. Victory!
Guards conversation
Heroes of the Great Patriotic War
Terrible Horseman
Twelve poplars
There is a people's war going on
Expulsion of the Nazis
Historical figures
Historical stories
The story of a serf boy
Red eagle
Swan cry
Mikhail Kutuzov
Our fatherland. Stories about Peter the Great, Narva and military affairs
Unprecedented things happen
From Moscow to Berlin
Peter the First
Victory
Victory at Kursk
Feat of Leningrad
The final assault
Glory bird
Stories from Russian history
Stories about a great war and a great victory
Stories about the Great Patriotic War
Stories about the Decembrists
Stories about Lenin
Stories about Marshal Konev
Stories about Marshal Rokossovsky
Stories about Russian Tsars
Stories about Suvorov and Russian soldiers
Ryzhik
Secret request: novels and short stories
Bullfinch - stories about Lenin
Battle of Stalingrad
One hundred stories from Russian history

Sergey Petrovich Alekseev

HUNDRED STORIES ABOUT WAR

Chapter first

THE END OF THE BLITZKRIEG

BREST FORTRESS

The Brest Fortress stands on the border. The Nazis attacked it on the very first day of the war.

The Nazis were unable to take the Brest Fortress by storm. We walked around her left and right. She remained behind enemy lines.

The Nazis are coming. Fights are taking place near Minsk, near Riga, near Lvov, near Lutsk. And there, in the rear of the Nazis, the Brest Fortress is fighting, not giving up.

It's hard for heroes. It’s bad with ammunition, bad with food, and especially bad with water for the defenders of the fortress.

There is water all around - the Bug River, the Mukhovets River, branches, channels. There is water all around, but there is no water in the fortress. Water is under fire. A sip of water here is more valuable than life.

Water! - rushes over the fortress.

A daredevil was found and rushed to the river. He rushed and immediately collapsed. The soldier's enemies defeated him. Time passed, another brave one rushed forward. And he died. The third replaced the second. The third one also died.

A machine gunner was lying not far from this place. He was scribbling and scribbling the machine gun, and suddenly the line stopped. The machine gun overheated in battle. And the machine gun needs water.

The machine gunner looked - the water had evaporated from the hot battle, and the machine gun casing was empty. I looked to where the Bug is, where the channels are. Looked left, right.

Eh, it was not.

He crawled towards the water. He crawled on his bellies, pressing himself to the ground like a snake. He is getting closer and closer to the water. It's right next to the shore. The machine gunner grabbed his helmet. He scooped up water like a bucket. Again it crawls back like a snake. Getting closer to our people, closer. It's very close. His friends picked him up.

I brought some water! Hero!

The soldiers look at their helmets and at the water. His eyes are blurred from thirst. They don’t know that the machine gunner brought water for the machine gun. They are waiting, and suddenly a soldier will treat them now - at least a sip.

The machine gunner looked at the soldiers, at the dry lips, at the heat in his eyes.

“Come over,” said the machine gunner.

The soldiers stepped forward, but suddenly...

Brothers, it wouldn’t be for us, but for the wounded,” someone’s voice rang out.

The fighters stopped.

Of course, wounded!

That's right, take it to the basement!

The soldiers sent the fighter to the basement. He brought water to the basement where the wounded lay.

Brothers,” he said, “water...

“Have it,” he handed the mug to the soldier.

The soldier reached out to the water. I already took the mug, but suddenly:

No, not for me,” said the soldier. - Not for me. Bring it to the children, dear.

The soldier brought water to the children. But it must be said that in the Brest Fortress, along with adult fighters, there were also women and children - the wives and children of military personnel.

The soldier went down to the basement where the children were.

“Come on,” the fighter turned to the guys. “Come, stand,” and, like a magician, he takes out his helmet from behind his back.

The guys look - there is water in the helmet.

The children rushed to the water, to the soldier.

The fighter took the mug and carefully poured it to the bottom. He's looking to see who he can give it to. He sees a baby about the size of a pea nearby.

Here,” he handed it to the baby.

The kid looked at the fighter and at the water.

“Papa,” said the kid. - He's there, he's shooting.

Yes, drink, drink,” the fighter smiled.

No,” the boy shook his head. - Folder. - Never took a sip of water.

And others refused to follow him.

The fighter returned to his own people. He told about the children, about the wounded. He gave the helmet with water to the machine gunner.

The machine gunner looked at the water, then at the soldiers, at the fighters, at his friends. He took the helmet and poured water into the metal casing. It came to life, started working, and built a machine gun.

The machine gunner covered the fighters with fire. There were brave souls again. They crawled towards the Bug, towards death. The heroes returned with water. They gave water to the children and the wounded.

The defenders of the Brest Fortress fought bravely. But there were fewer and fewer of them. They were bombed from the sky. The cannons were fired directly. From flamethrowers.

The fascists are waiting, and people will ask for mercy. The white flag is about to appear.

We waited and waited, but the flag was not visible. Nobody asks for mercy.

For thirty-two days the battles for the fortress did not cease. “I am dying, but I am not giving up. Farewell, Motherland! - one of its last defenders wrote on the wall with a bayonet.

These were words of farewell. But it was also an oath. The soldiers kept their oath. They did not surrender to the enemy.

The country bowed to its heroes for this. And you stop for a minute, reader. And you bow low to the heroes.

The war is marching with fire. The earth is burning with disaster. A grandiose battle with the Nazis unfolded over a vast area from the Baltic to the Black Sea.

The Nazis advanced in three directions at once: towards Moscow, Leningrad and Kyiv. They released a deadly fan.

The city of Liepaja is a port of the Latvian Soviet Republic. One of the fascist attacks was directed here, on Liepaja. Enemies believe in easy success:

Liepaja is in our hands!

The Nazis are advancing from the south. They walk along the sea - a straight road. The Nazis are coming. Here is the village of Rutsava. Here is Lake Papes. Here is the Barta River. The city is getting closer and closer.

Liepaja is in our hands!

They're coming. Suddenly a terrible fire blocked the road. The Nazis stopped. The Nazis entered the battle.

They fight and fight, but they can’t get through. Enemies from the south cannot break through to Liepaja.

The Nazis then changed direction. They are now going around the city from the east. We went around. The city is smoking in the distance.

Liepaja is in our hands!

As soon as we went on the attack, Liepaja again bristled with a flurry of fire. Sailors came to the aid of the soldiers. Workers came to the aid of the military. They took up arms. Together with the fighters in the same row.

The Nazis stopped. The Nazis entered the battle.

They fight and fight, but they can’t get through. The Nazis will not advance here, from the east either.

Liepaja is in our hands!

However, even here, in the north, the brave defenders of Liepaja blocked the way for the fascists. Fights with the enemy Liepaja.

Days pass.

The second ones pass.

Third. The fourth ones are running out.

Liepāja does not give up, it holds on!

Only when the shells ran out and there were no cartridges did the defenders of Liepaja retreat.

The Nazis entered the city.

Liepaja is in our hands!

But the Soviet people did not resign themselves. They went underground. They joined the partisans. A bullet awaits the Nazis at every step. The Nazis have an entire division in the city.

Liepāja is fighting.

The enemies of Liepaja commemorated it for a long time. If they failed in something, they said:

We haven't forgotten Liepaja either. If someone stood steadfastly in battle, if someone fought their enemies with extreme courage, and the fighters wanted to note this, they said:

Even after being enslaved by the Nazis, she remained in combat formation - our Soviet Liepaja.

CAPTAIN GASTELLO

It was the fifth day of the war. Pilot Captain Nikolai Frantsevich Gastello and his crew flew the plane on a combat mission. The plane was large, twin-engine. Bomber.

The plane left for the intended target. Bombed out. Completed the combat mission. Turned around. I started to go home.

And suddenly a shell exploded from behind. It was the Nazis who opened fire on the Soviet pilot. The worst thing happened: a shell pierced a gasoline tank. The bomber caught fire. Flames ran along the wings and along the fuselage.

Captain Gastello tried to put out the fire. He sharply tilted the plane onto the wing. Made the car seem to fall on its side. This position of the aircraft is called sliding. The pilot thought he would go astray and the flames would subside. However, the car continued to burn. Gastello dropped the bomber onto the second wing. The fire doesn't go away. The plane is on fire and is losing altitude.

At this time, a fascist convoy was moving below the plane: tanks with fuel in the convoy, cars. The Nazis raised their heads and were watching the Soviet bomber.

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One hundred stories about war
Sergey Petrovich Alekseev

Chapter first
THE END OF THE BLITZKRIEG

BREST FORTRESS

The Brest Fortress stands on the border. The Nazis attacked it on the very first day of the war.

The Nazis were unable to take the Brest Fortress by storm. We walked around her left and right. She remained behind enemy lines.

The Nazis are coming. Fights are taking place near Minsk, near Riga, near Lvov, near Lutsk. And there, in the rear of the Nazis, the Brest Fortress is fighting, not giving up.

It's hard for heroes. It’s bad with ammunition, bad with food, and especially bad with water for the defenders of the fortress.

- Water! - rushes over the fortress.

The machine gunner looked - the water had evaporated from the hot battle, and the machine gun casing was empty. I looked to where the Bug is, where the channels are. Looked left, right.

- Eh, it was not.

- I brought some water! Hero!

The machine gunner looked at the soldiers, at the dry lips, at the heat in his eyes.

“Come closer,” said the machine gunner.

The soldiers stepped forward, but suddenly...

“Brothers, it wouldn’t be for us, but for the wounded,” someone’s voice rang out.

The fighters stopped.

- Of course, wounded!

- That's right, take it to the basement!

The soldiers sent the fighter to the basement. He brought water to the basement where the wounded lay.

“Brothers,” he said, “water...

“Here,” he handed the mug to the soldier.

The soldier reached out to the water. I already took the mug, but suddenly:

“No, not for me,” said the soldier. - Not for me. Bring it to the children, dear.

The soldier went down to the basement where the children were.

“Come on,” the fighter turned to the guys. “Come and stand,” and, like a magician, he takes out his helmet from behind his back.

The guys look - there is water in the helmet.

The children rushed to the water, to the soldier.

The fighter took the mug and carefully poured it to the bottom. He's looking to see who he can give it to. He sees a baby about the size of a pea nearby.

“Here,” he handed to the baby.

The kid looked at the fighter and at the water.

“To daddy,” said the kid. - He's there, he's shooting.

“Yes, drink, drink,” the fighter smiled.

“No,” the boy shook his head. - Folder. “I never took a sip of water.”

And others refused to follow him.

The fighter returned to his own people. He told about the children, about the wounded. He gave the helmet with water to the machine gunner.

The defenders of the Brest Fortress fought bravely. But there were fewer and fewer of them. They were bombed from the sky. The cannons were fired directly. From flamethrowers.

The fascists are waiting, and people are about to ask for mercy. The white flag is about to appear.

We waited and waited, but the flag was not visible. Nobody asks for mercy.

For thirty-two days the battles for the fortress did not cease. “I am dying, but I am not giving up. Farewell, Motherland! – one of its last defenders wrote on the wall with a bayonet.

These were words of farewell. But it was also an oath. The soldiers kept their oath. They did not surrender to the enemy.

The country bowed to its heroes for this. And you stop for a minute, reader. And you bow low to the heroes.

LIEPAJA

The war is marching with fire. The earth is burning with disaster. A grandiose battle with the Nazis unfolded over a vast area from the Baltic to the Black Sea.

The Nazis advanced in three directions at once: towards Moscow, Leningrad and Kyiv. They released a deadly fan.

The city of Liepaja is a port of the Latvian Soviet Republic. One of the fascist attacks was directed here, on Liepaja. Enemies believe in easy success:

– Liepaja is in our hands!

They're coming. Suddenly a terrible fire blocked the road. The Nazis stopped. The Nazis entered the battle.

They fight and fight, but they can’t get through. Enemies from the south cannot break through to Liepaja.

The Nazis then changed direction. They are now going around the city from the east. We went around. The city is smoking in the distance.

– Liepaja is in our hands!

The Nazis stopped. The Nazis entered the battle.

They fight and fight, but they can’t get through. The Nazis will not advance here, from the east either.

– Liepaja is in our hands!

However, even here, in the north, the brave defenders of Liepaja blocked the way for the fascists. Fights with the enemy Liepaja.

Days pass.

The second ones pass.

Third. The fourth ones are running out.

Liepāja does not give up, it holds on!

Only when the shells ran out and there were no cartridges did the defenders of Liepaja retreat.

The Nazis entered the city.

– Liepaja is in our hands!

But the Soviet people did not resign themselves. They went underground. They joined the partisans. A bullet awaits the Nazis at every step. The Nazis have an entire division in the city.

Liepāja is fighting.

The enemies of Liepaja commemorated it for a long time. If they failed in something, they said:

- Liepaja!

We haven't forgotten Liepaja either. If someone stood steadfastly in battle, if someone fought their enemies with extreme courage, and the fighters wanted to note this, they said:

- Liepaja!

Even after being enslaved by the Nazis, she remained in the fighting ranks - our Soviet Liepaja.

CAPTAIN GASTELLO

It was the fifth day of the war. Pilot Captain Nikolai Frantsevich Gastello and his crew flew the plane on a combat mission. The plane was large, twin-engine. Bomber.

The plane left for the intended target. Bombed out. Completed the combat mission. Turned around. I started to go home.

At this time, a fascist convoy was moving below the plane: tanks with fuel in the convoy, cars. The Nazis raised their heads and were watching the Soviet bomber.

The Nazis saw how a shell hit the plane and how the flame immediately broke out. How the pilot began to fight the fire, throwing the car from side to side.

The fascists are triumphant.

– There is one less communist!

The fascists laugh. And suddenly…

Captain Gastello tried and tried to knock down the flames from the plane. He threw the car from wing to wing. It’s clear – don’t put out the fire. The ground is running towards the plane with terrible speed. Gastello looked at the ground. I saw fascists below, a convoy, fuel tanks, and trucks.

And this means: tanks will arrive at the target - fascist planes will be refueled with gasoline, tanks and cars will be refueled; Fascist planes will rush to our cities and villages, fascist tanks will attack our soldiers, cars will rush, carrying fascist soldiers and military cargo.

Captain Gastello could have left the burning plane and bailed out.

But Captain Gastello did not use the parachute. He gripped the steering wheel more firmly in his hands. The bomber aimed at a fascist convoy.

The Nazis are standing, looking at the Soviet plane. The fascists are happy. We are happy that their anti-aircraft gunners shot down our plane. And suddenly they realize: a plane is rushing right at them, towards the tanks.

The Nazis rushed in different directions. Not everyone managed to escape. A plane crashed into a fascist convoy. There was a terrible explosion. Dozens of fascist vehicles with fuel took off into the air.

Soviet soldiers performed many glorious feats during the Great Patriotic War - pilots, tank crews, infantrymen, and artillerymen. Many unforgettable feats. One of the first in this series of immortals was the feat of Captain Gastello.

Captain Gastello died. But the memory remains. Everlasting memory. Eternal glory.

Audacity

This happened in Ukraine. Not far from the city of Lutsk.

In these places, near Lutsk, near Lvov, near Brody, Dubno, large tank battles broke out with the Nazis.

Night. The column of fascist tanks changed their positions. The cars are coming one after another. They fill the area with motor noise.

The commander of one of the fascist tanks, Lieutenant Kurt Wieder, threw away the turret hatch, climbed out of the tank waist-deep, and admired the night view.

Summer stars look calmly from the sky. To the right is a narrow strip of forest. On the left the field runs into a lowland. The stream rushed like a silver ribbon. The road twisted and went slightly uphill. Night. The cars are coming one after another.

And suddenly. Veeder doesn't believe his eyes. A shot rang out in front of the tank. Vider sees: the tank that was walking in front of Vider fired. But what is it? A tank hit its own tank! The damaged one burst into flames and was enveloped in flames.

Vider's thoughts flashed and rushed one after another:

- Accident?!

- An oversight?!

-Are you crazy?!

- Are you crazy?!

But at that second there was a shot from behind. Then the third, fourth, fifth. Veeder turned around. Tanks are firing at tanks. Those who walk behind follow those who go ahead.

Veeder descended quickly into the hatch. He doesn’t know what command to give to the tankers. He looks left, looks right, and right: what command to give?

While he was thinking, a shot rang out again. It was heard nearby, and the tank in which Veeder was immediately shuddered. It shuddered, clanged and burst into flames like a candle.

Veeder jumped to the ground. He threw himself like an arrow into the ditch.

What happened?

The day before, in one of the battles, Soviet soldiers recaptured fifteen tanks from the Nazis. Thirteen of them turned out to be completely serviceable.

This is where our people decided to use fascist tanks against the fascists themselves. Soviet tank crews got into enemy vehicles, went out to the road and waylaid one of the fascist tank columns. When the column approached, the tankers quietly joined it. Then we slowly reformed so that each fascist tank was followed by a tank with our tank crews.

There is a column coming. The fascists are calm. All tanks have black crosses. We approached the slope. And here they shot our column of fascist tanks.

Veeder rose from the ground to his feet. I looked at the tanks. They burn out like coals. He turned his gaze to the sky. The stars from the sky are pricking like needles.

Our people returned home with victory and trophies.

- Well, is everything in order?

- Consider it full!

The tankers are standing.

Smiles glow. There is courage in the eyes. There is insolence on their faces.

THOROUGH WORD

There is a war going on across Belarusian soil. Conflagration fires rise from behind.

The fascists are marching. And here in front of them is the Berezina - the beauty of the Belarusian fields.

Berezina is running. Either it will spread into a wide floodplain, then suddenly it will narrow to a channel, it will make its way through the swamps, through the swells, it will gurgle along the forest, along the forest, along the field, it will rush to the feet of good-quality huts, it will smile at bridges, cities and villages.

The Nazis came to the Berezina. One of the detachments to the village of Studyanka. Battles rumbled near Studyanka. The fascists are happy. Another new frontier has been captured.

Studyanka has hilly areas. Both the right and left banks are humped here. The Berezina flows in the lowlands here. The Nazis climbed the hill. The district lies in the palm of your hand. Goes through the fields and forest to the sky. The fascists are marching.

- A song! - the officer commands.

The soldiers sang a song.

The Nazis are walking, and suddenly they see a monument. At the top of the hill, near the road, there is an obelisk. The inscription is at the bottom of the monument.

The fascists stopped, stopped chanting the song. They look at the obelisk and the inscription. They don't understand Russian. However, I wonder what is written here. Address one to another:

- What's it about, Kurt?

– What is this about, Karl?

The Kurts, Karls, Fritzes, Frantzes, Adolfs, Hanses are standing, looking at the inscription.

And then there was one who read Russian.

“Here, in this place...” the soldier began to read. And further that here, on the Berezina, near the village of Studyanka, in 1812, the Russian army under the command of Field Marshal Mikhail Illarionovich Kutuzov finally defeated the hordes of the French Emperor Napoleon I, who dreamed of conquering our country, and expelled the invaders from Russia.

Yes, it was in this exact place. Here, on the Berezina, near the village of Studyanka.

The soldier read the inscription on the monument to the end. He looked at his neighbors. Kurt whistled. Karl whistled. Fritz grinned. Franz smiled. The other soldiers made noise:

- So when did this happen?

– Napoleon didn’t have the same strength then!

Just what is it? The song is no longer a song. The song is getting quieter and quieter.

- Louder, louder! - the officer commands.

Can't get anything louder. So the song stopped altogether.

The soldiers are walking, remembering about 1812, about the obelisk, about the inscription on the monument. Although this was a long time ago, it’s true, although Napoleon’s strength was not the same, but somehow the mood of the fascist soldiers suddenly deteriorated. They go and repeat:

- Berezina!

The word suddenly turned out to be prickly.

ESTATE

Enemies are marching across Ukraine. The fascists are rushing forward.

Ukraine is good. The air is fragrant like grass. The lands are as fat as butter. The generous sun is shining.

Hitler promised the soldiers that after the war, after victory, they would receive estates in Ukraine.

Soldier Hans Mutterfather walks, selects an estate for himself.

He liked the place. The river is murmuring. Rockets. Meadow next to the river. Stork.

- Fine. Grace! This is where I’ll probably stay after the war. I’ll build a house here by the river.

He closed his eyes. A beautiful house has grown. And next to the house there are stables, barns, sheds, a cowshed, a pigsty.

Soldier Mutterfather broke into a smile.

- Great! Wonderful! Let's remember the place.

- Perfect place!

I fell in love with it.

This is where I’ll probably stay after the war. Here, on the hill, I will build a house. He closed his eyes. A beautiful house has grown. And next to the house there are other services: stables, barns, barns, cowshed, pigsty.

Stop again.

The open spaces lay like a steppe. There is no end to them. The field lies like velvet. Rooks walk across the field like princes.

The soldier is captured by the boundless expanse. He looks at the steppes, at the earth - his soul plays.

“This is where I am, this is where I’ll stay forever.”

He closed his eyes: the field was earing wheat. There are mowers nearby. It's his field that's making ears. These are his mowing fields. And there are cows grazing nearby. These are his cows. And turkeys are pecking nearby. These are his turkeys. And his pigs and chickens. And his geese and ducks. And his sheep and goats. And here is a beautiful house.

Mutterfather firmly decided. Here he will take the estate. No other place needed.

- Zehr gut! - said the fascist. - I will stay here forever.

Ukraine is good. Generous Ukraine. What Mutterfather had so dreamed about came true. Hans Mutterfather remained here forever when the partisans opened battle. And right there, right on his estate.

Mutterfather lies on his estate. And others are walking past. They also choose these estates for themselves. Some are on the hill, and some are under the hill. Some are near the forest, and some are near the fields. Some are by the pond, and some are by the river.

The partisans look at them:

- Don't crowd. Take your time. Great Ukraine. Generous Ukraine. There's enough room for everyone.

TWO TANKS

In one of the battles, a Soviet KB tank (KB is a brand of tank) rammed a fascist one. The fascist tank was destroyed. However, ours also suffered. The engine stalled due to the impact.

Driver-mechanic Ustinov leaned over to the engine and tried to start it. The engine is silent.

The tank stopped. However, the tankers did not stop the battle. They opened fire on the Nazis with cannon and machine guns.

The tankers are shooting, listening to see if the engine starts working. Ustinov is fiddling with the engine. The engine is silent.

The battle was long and stubborn. And then our tank ran out of ammunition. The tank now turned out to be completely helpless. Lonely, silently standing on the field.

The Nazis became interested in the lonely tank. Come over. We looked and the car was apparently intact. We climbed onto the tank. They hit the manhole cover with forged boots.

- Hey, Russian!

- Come out, Russian!

We listened. No answer.

- Hey, Russian!

No answer.

“The tank crews were killed,” thought the Nazis. They decided to steal the tank as a trophy. We drove our tank to the Soviet tank. We got the cable. Attached. The cable was stretched. The colossus pulled the colossus.

“Things are bad,” our tankers understand. They leaned towards the engine, towards Ustinov:

- Well, look here.

- Well, pick around here.

– Where did the spark go?!

Ustinov puffs at the engine.

- Oh, you stubborn one!

- Oh, you, your soul of steel!

And suddenly he snorted and the tank’s engine started working. Ustinov grabbed the levers. He quickly engaged the clutch. I stepped on the gas harder. The tank's tracks were moving. The Soviet tank stopped.

The Nazis see that a Soviet tank has stopped. They are amazed: he was motionless - and came to life. Turned on the strongest power. They cannot budge a Soviet tank. Engines roar. The tanks are pulling each other in different directions. Caterpillars bite into the ground. The earth flies from under the caterpillars.

- Vasya, press! - the tankers shout to Ustinov. - Vasya!

Ustinov pushed to the limit. And then he overpowered the Soviet tank. He pulled the fascist along with him. The fascists and ours have now switched roles. Not ours, but the fascist tank is now among the trophies.

The Nazis rushed about and opened the hatches. They started jumping out of the tank.

The heroes dragged the enemy tank to their own. The soldiers are watching:

- Fascist!

- Completely intact!

The tankers spoke about the last battle and what happened.

“They overpowered me, then,” the soldiers laugh.

- They pulled it!

“Ours, it turns out, is stronger in the shoulders.”

“Stronger, stronger,” the soldiers laugh. - Give it time - or it will happen, brothers, to the Krauts.

What can I say?

- Shall we drag it?

- We'll pull it over!

There will be battles. To be victorious. But not all of this at once. These battles are ahead.

FULL-FULL

The battle with the Nazis took place on the banks of the Dnieper. The Nazis came to the Dnieper. Among others, the village of Buchak was captured. The Nazis settled there. There are many of them - about a thousand. We installed a mortar battery. The shore is high. The Nazis can see far from the slope. The fascist battery is hitting our people.

The defense on the left, opposite bank of the Dnieper was held by a regiment commanded by Major Muzagik Khairetdinov. Khairetdinov decided to teach the fascists and the fascist battery a lesson. He gave the order to conduct a night attack on the right bank.

Soviet soldiers began to prepare for the crossing. We got boats from the residents. We got the oars and poles. We immersed ourselves. We pushed off from the left bank. The soldiers went into the darkness.

The Nazis did not expect an attack from the left bank. The village on a steep slope is covered from ours by the Dnieper water. The fascists are calm. And suddenly the Soviet soldiers fell upon their enemies like a fiery shooting star. They crushed it. Squeezed. They threw me off the Dnieper steep. They destroyed both the fascist soldiers and the fascist battery.

The soldiers returned victoriously to the left bank.

In the morning, new fascist forces approached the village of Buchak. A young lieutenant accompanied the Nazis. The lieutenant tells the soldiers about the Dnieper, about the Dnieper steeps, about the village of Buchak.

- There are plenty of us there!

He clarifies that the mortar battery is located on a steep slope, the entire left bank is visible from the steep slope, the Nazis are covered from the Russians by the Dnieper water like a wall, and the soldiers in Buchak are positioned like in Christ’s bosom.

The Nazis are approaching the village. Something is quiet all around, soundless. Empty all around, deserted.

The lieutenant is surprised:

- Yes, there were plenty of ours!

The Nazis entered the village. We went to the Dnieper steep. They see the dead lying on the steep slope. We looked to the left, looked to the right - and sure enough, it was complete.

Not only for the village of Buchak - stubborn battles with the fascists broke out in many places on the Dnieper at that time. The 21st Soviet Army dealt a strong blow to the Nazis here. The army crossed the Dnieper, attacked the Nazis, Soviet soldiers liberated the cities of Rogachev and Zhlobin, and headed for Bobruisk.

The fascists were alarmed:

- Rogachev is lost!

- Zhlobin is lost!

– The enemy is coming to Bobruisk!

The Nazis had to urgently withdraw their troops from other areas. They drove huge forces to Bobruisk. The Nazis barely held Bobruisk.

The blow of the 21st Army was not the only one. And in other places on the Dnieper the fascists suffered a lot then.

Glug-glug.

The fighting in Stalingrad continues unabated. The Nazis are rushing to the Volga.

Some fascist made Sergeant Noskov angry. Our trenches and those of the Nazis ran side by side here. Speech can be heard from trench to trench.

The fascist sits in his hiding place and shouts:

Rus, tomorrow glug-glug!

That is, he wants to say that tomorrow the Nazis will break through to the Volga and throw the defenders of Stalingrad into the Volga.

The fascist sits, does not stick out. Only a voice from the trench comes:

Rus, tomorrow gurg-glug. - And he clarifies: - Bul-gur at Volga.

This “glug-glug” gets on Sergeant Noskov’s nerves.

Others are calm. Some of the soldiers even chuckle. A Noskov:

Eka, damned Fritz! Show yourself. Let me at least look at you.

The Hitlerite just leaned out. Noskov looked, and other soldiers looked. Reddish. Ospovat. Ears stick out. The cap on the crown miraculously stays on.

The fascist leaned out and again:

Glug-glug!

One of our soldiers grabbed a rifle. He raised it and took aim.

Don't touch! - Noskov said sternly.

The soldier looked at Noskov in surprise. Shrugged. He took the rifle away.

Until the evening, the long-eared German croaked: “Rus, tomorrow glug-glug. Tomorrow at Volga's."

By evening the fascist soldier fell silent.

“He fell asleep,” they understood in our trenches. Our soldiers gradually began to doze off. Suddenly they see someone starting to crawl out of the trench. They look - Sergeant Noskov. And behind him is his best friend, Private Turyanchik. The friends got out of the trench, hugged the ground, and crawled towards the German trench.

The soldiers woke up. They are perplexed. Why did Noskov and Turyanchik suddenly go to visit the Nazis? The soldiers look there, to the west, breaking their eyes in the darkness. The soldiers began to worry.

But someone said:

Brothers, they are crawling back.

The second confirmed:

That's right, they are coming back.

The soldiers looked closely - right. Friends are crawling, hugging the ground. Just not two of them. Three. The soldiers took a closer look: the third fascist soldier, the same one - “glug-glug”. He just doesn't crawl. Noskov and Turyanchik are dragging him. A soldier is gagged.

The screamer's friends dragged him into the trench. We rested and continued to headquarters.

However, they fled along the road to the Volga. They grabbed the fascist by the hands, by the neck, and dunked him into the Volga.

Glug-glug, glug-glug! - Turyanchik shouts mischievously.

Bubble-bulb, - the fascist blows bubbles. Shaking like an aspen leaf.

“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid,” Noskov said. - Russians don’t hit someone who is down.

The soldiers handed over the prisoner to headquarters.

Noskov waved goodbye to the fascist.

“Bul-bull,” said Turyanchik, saying goodbye.

Evil surname.

The soldier was embarrassed by his last name. He was unlucky at birth. Trusov is his last name.

It's war time. The surname is catchy.

Already at the military registration and enlistment office, when a soldier was drafted into the army, the first question was:

Surname?

Trusov.

How how?

Trusov.

Y-yes... - the military registration and enlistment office workers drawled.

A soldier got into the company.

What's the last name?

Private Trusov.

How how?

Private Trusov.

Y-yes... - the commander drawled.

The soldier suffered a lot of troubles from his last name. There are jokes and jokes all around:

Apparently, your ancestor was not a hero.

In a convoy with such a surname!

Field mail will be delivered. The soldiers will gather in a circle. Incoming letters are being distributed. Names given:

Kozlov! Sizov! Smirnov!

Everything is fine. The soldiers come up and take their letters.

Shout out:

Cowards!

The soldiers are laughing all around.

Somehow the surname does not fit with wartime. Woe to the soldier with this surname.

As part of his 149th separate rifle brigade, Private Trusov arrived at Stalingrad. They transported the soldiers across the Volga to the right bank. The brigade entered the battle.

Well, Trusov, let’s see what kind of soldier you are,” said the squad leader.

Trusov doesn’t want to disgrace himself. Trying. The soldiers are going on the attack. Suddenly an enemy machine gun started firing from the left. Trusov turned around. He fired a burst from the machine gun. The enemy machine gun fell silent.

Well done! - the squad leader praised the soldier.

The soldiers ran a few more steps. The machine gun hits again.

Now it's on the right. Trusov turned around. I got close to the machine gunner. Threw a grenade. And this fascist calmed down.

Hero! - said the squad leader.

The soldiers lay down. They are skirmishing with the Nazis. The battle is over. The soldiers counted the killed enemies. Twenty people turned out to be at the place from which Private Trusov was firing.

Ooh! - the squad commander burst out. - Well, brother, your last name is evil. Evil!

Trusov smiled.

For courage and determination in battle, Private Trusov was awarded a medal.

The medal “For Courage” hangs on the hero’s chest. Whoever meets you will squint his eyes at the reward.

The first question for the soldier now is:

What was he awarded for, hero?

No one will ask for your last name now. No one will giggle now. He won’t drop a word with malice.

From now on it is clear to the soldier: the honor of a soldier is not in the surname - a person’s deeds are beautiful.

Stories by Sergei Alekseev

Fascinating and interesting war stories. Stories about events taking place during the Great Patriotic War.

BEAR

In those days when the division was sent to the front, the soldiers of one of the Siberian divisions were given a small bear cub by their fellow countrymen. Mishka has gotten comfortable with the soldier's heated vehicle. It’s important to go to the front.

Toptygin arrived at the front. The little bear turned out to be extremely smart. And most importantly, from birth he had a heroic character. I wasn't afraid of bombings. Didn't hide in corners during artillery shelling. He only rumbled dissatisfiedly if shells exploded very close.

Mishka visited the Southwestern Front, and then was part of the troops that defeated the Nazis at Stalingrad. Then for some time he was with the troops in the rear, in the front reserve. Then he ended up as part of the 303rd Infantry Division on the Voronezh Front, then on the Central Front, and again on the Voronezh Front. He was in the armies of generals Managarov, Chernyakhovsky, and again Managarov. The bear cub grew up during this time. There was a sound in the shoulders. The bass cut through. It became a boyar fur coat.

The bear distinguished himself in the battles near Kharkov. At the crossings, he walked with the convoy in the economic convoy. It was the same this time. There were heavy, bloody battles. One day, an economic convoy came under heavy attack from the Nazis. The Nazis surrounded the column. Unequal forces are difficult for us. The soldiers took up defensive positions. Only the defense is weak. The Soviet soldiers would not have left.

But suddenly the Nazis hear some kind of terrible roar! “What would it be?” - the fascists wonder. We listened and took a closer look.

Ber! Ber! Bear! - someone shouted.

That's right - Mishka stood up on his hind legs, growled and went towards the Nazis. The Nazis didn’t expect it and rushed to the side. And ours struck at that moment. We escaped from the encirclement.

The bear walked like a hero.

“He would be a reward,” the soldiers laughed.

He received a reward: a plate of fragrant honey. He ate and purred. He licked the plate until it was shiny and shiny. Added honey. Added again. Eat, fill up, hero. Toptygin!

Soon the Voronezh Front was renamed the 1st Ukrainian Front. Together with the front troops, Mishka went to the Dnieper.

Mishka has grown up. Quite a giant. Where can soldiers tinker with such a huge thing during a war? The soldiers decided: we’ll come to Kyiv and put him in the zoo. We will write on the cage: the bear is an honored veteran and participant in a great battle.

However, the road to Kyiv passed. Their division passed by. There was no bear left in the menagerie. Even the soldiers are happy now.

From Ukraine Mishka came to Belarus. He took part in the battles near Bobruisk, then ended up in the army that marched to Belovezhskaya Pushcha.

Belovezhskaya Pushcha is a paradise for animals and birds. The best place on the entire planet. The soldiers decided: this is where we’ll leave Mishka.

That's right: under his pine trees. Under the spruce.

This is where he finds freedom.

Our troops liberated the area of Belovezhskaya Pushcha. And now the hour of separation has come. The fighters and the bear are standing in a forest clearing.

Goodbye, Toptygin!

Walk free!

Live, start a family!

Mishka stood in the clearing. He stood up on his hind legs. I looked at the green thicket. I smelled the forest smell through my nose.

He walked with a roller 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 towards the explosion - Toptygin was dead and motionless.

A bear stepped on a fascist mine. We checked - there are a lot of them in Belovezhskaya Pushcha.

The war marches on without pity. War has no weariness.

STING

Our troops liberated Moldova. They pushed the Nazis beyond the Dnieper, beyond Reut. They took Floresti, Tiraspol, Orhei. We approached the capital of Moldova, the city of Chisinau.

Here two of our fronts were attacking at once - the 2nd Ukrainian and 3rd Ukrainian. Near Chisinau, Soviet troops were supposed to surround a large fascist group. Carry out the front directions of the Headquarters. The 2nd Ukrainian Front advances north and west of Chisinau. To the east and south is the 3rd Ukrainian Front. Generals Malinovsky and Tolbukhin stood 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.

The troops are marching forward. They bypass the enemy. The pincers 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 in. There were eighteen fascist divisions in a huge bag near Chisinau. Our troops began to defeat the fascists who were caught in the bag.

The Soviet soldiers are happy:

The beast will be caught again with a trap.

There was talk: the fascist is no longer scary, even take it with your bare hands.

However, soldier Igoshin had a different opinion:

A fascist is a fascist. A serpentine character is a serpentine character. A wolf is a wolf in a trap.

The soldiers laugh:

So what time was it!

Today the price for a fascist is different.

A fascist is a fascist, - Igoshin again about his.

That's a bad character!

It’s getting more and more difficult for the fascists in the bag. They began to surrender. They also surrendered in the sector of the 68th Guards Rifle Division. Igoshin served in one of its battalions.

A group of fascists came out of the forest. Everything is as it should be: hands up, a white flag thrown over the group.

It’s clear - they’re going to give up.

The soldiers perked up and shouted to the fascists:

Please, please! It is high time!

The soldiers turned to Igoshin:

Well, why is your fascist scary?

Soldiers are crowding around, looking at the fascists coming to surrender. There are newcomers to the battalion. This is the first time that the Nazis have been seen so close. And they, newcomers, are also not at all afraid of the Nazis - after all, they are going to surrender.

The Nazis are getting closer, closer. Very close. And suddenly a burst of machine gun fire rang out. The Nazis started shooting.

A lot of our people would have died. Yes, thanks to Igoshin. He kept his weapon ready. Immediately the response opened fire. Then others helped.

The firing on the field died down. The soldiers approached Igoshin:

Thank you brother. And the fascist, look, actually has a snake-like sting.

The Chisinau “cauldron” caused a lot of trouble for our soldiers. The fascists rushed about. They rushed in different directions. They resorted to deception and meanness. They tried to leave. But in vain. The soldiers squeezed them with their heroic hand. Pinched. Squeezed. The snake's sting was pulled out.

Sergei Alekseev's stories about the war. Stories: Balloon and Shock. These are stories about the exploits of the military detachment of balloonists and about the heroes of the 1st Shock Army.

AEROSTATIC

Among the defenders of Moscow there was a detachment of balloonists. Balloons rose into the Moscow sky. With the help of metal cables they created barriers against fascist bombers.

Once the soldiers were lowering one of the balloons. The winch creaks monotonously. A steel cable crawls along a spool like a thread. With the help of this cable the balloon is lowered. He's getting lower and lower. There are ropes hanging from the shell of the balloon. These are halyards. The fighters will now grab the balloon by the halyards. Holding the halyards, they will drag the balloon to the parking area. They will strengthen it and tie it to the supports.

The balloon is huge, huge. Looks like an elephant, like a mammoth. The colossus will obediently follow people. This is the rule. But sometimes the balloon gets stubborn. This is if there is wind. At such moments, the balloon, like a restive horse, breaks and breaks from its leash.

That memorable day for the soldier Veligura turned out to be windy.

The balloon descends. Private Veligura is standing. There are others standing. Now they'll grab you by the halyards.

He grabbed Veligur. Others didn't have time. The balloon exploded. Veligur hears some kind of cotton. Then Veliguru jerked. The earth moved away from my feet. The fighter looked, and he was already in the air. It turned out that the cable used to lower the balloon with a winch had broken. Veliguru dragged the balloon behind him into the sky.

Drop the halyards!

Drop the halyards! - Veligura’s comrades shout from below.

Veligur didn’t understand what was going on at first. And when I figured it out, it was too late. The ground is far below. The balloon is getting higher and higher.

The soldier is holding a rope. The situation is simply tragic. How long can a person hold on like this? A minute more, a minute less. Then his strength will leave him. The unfortunate man will fall down.

The same would have happened with Veligura. Yes, apparently the fighter was born wearing a shirt. Although, more likely, Veligura is simply a resourceful fighter. He grabbed the rope with his feet. It's easier to hold on now. I caught my breath and took a breath. He is trying to make a noose on the rope with his feet. A soldier of fortune has achieved. The fighter made a noose. He made a loop and sat down in it. The danger has completely disappeared. Veligur cheered up. It’s interesting even now for a fighter. For the first time I rose so high. Soars like an eagle over the steppe.

The soldier looks at the ground. Moscow floats beneath it in a labyrinth of houses and streets. And here is the outskirts. The city is over. Veligura flies over the countryside area. And suddenly the fighter realizes that the wind is carrying him towards the front. Here is the battle area, here is the front line.

The Nazis saw a Soviet balloon. They opened fire. Shells explode nearby. The balloon fighter feels uncomfortable.

The same would happen, of course, with Veligura. Yes, apparently, the fighter was indeed born wearing a shirt. They don't touch you, explosions pass by.

But the main thing is that suddenly, as if on command, the wind changed direction. Veliguru was carried away again to Moscow. The fighter returned almost to the same place from where he left. I went down safely.

The soldier is alive. Unharmed. Healthy.

So it turned out that Private Veligura flew to the enemies in a balloon almost in the same way as the famous Baron Munchausen in his time flew to the enemy fortress riding on a cannonball.

Everything is fine. There's only one problem. Few people believed in this flight. As soon as Veligura starts telling his story, his friends immediately shout:

Well, well, lie, bend, twist!

Veligura is no longer Veligura. As soon as the poor fellow opens his mouth, he immediately rushes:

Baron Munchausen!

War is war. Anything can happen here. It happens that they later consider it a fairy tale.

SHOCK

Ivan Kharlov served as a machine gunner in the 1st Shock Army.

On November 28, 1941, the Nazis attacked the city of Yakhroma with a tank attack. Yakhroma is located exactly north of Moscow, on the banks of the Moscow-Volga canal. The Nazis burst into the city and went to the canal. They captured the bridge over the canal and crossed to its eastern bank.

Enemy tank formations bypassed Moscow from the north. The situation was difficult, almost critical.

The 1st Shock Army received orders to stop the enemy.

Shock was drawn into the battle. Kharlov is in battle with others. He is experienced in battle. A rifle company went on the offensive. Kharlov fell to the machine gun. Protects Soviet riflemen with fire from his machine gun. Acts like Kharlov. Take your time. In vain he doesn’t let bullets into the field. Saves ammo. It hits right on target. Fires in short bursts. Kharlov feels somewhat responsible for the lives of the infantrymen. As if every extra death was on his account.

It’s good for the fighters under such protection.

And suddenly, a fragment of a fascist mine distorted the barrel of Kharlov’s machine gun.

It broke off and the fire died out.

And the enemy goes on the attack again. Kharlov looked - the Nazis took advantage of the fact that his machine gun had died down and moved the cannon forward. The cannon is about to hit our company. Kharlov’s hands clenched into fists from resentment. Then he stood there and suddenly fell to the ground, pressed himself and somehow crab-like, sideways, taking a slight detour, crawled towards the enemy cannon.

The soldiers saw it and froze.

“Fathers, certain death!”

The soldiers glared at Kharlov. Here it is closer to Kharlov’s gun, here it is closer. It's very close. He rose to his height. Swung it. Threw a grenade. Destroyed the fascist crew.

The soldiers could not restrain themselves:

Hurray for Kharlov!

Well, Ivan Andreich, now run.

As soon as they shouted, they saw: fascist tanks had come out from behind the hill and were heading straight for Kharlov.

Run! - the soldiers shout again.

However, Kharlov hesitates. Doesn't run back.

The soldiers looked more closely.

Look, look! - one shouts.

The soldiers see - Kharlov turns the fascist cannon towards the tanks. Unfolded. Crouched down. He fell to the sight.

Shot. A fascist tank caught fire. The hero knocked out two tanks. The rest turned aside.

The battle lasted until the evening. The Shock Army pushed the fascists back across the canal. I restored the situation here.

Happy soldiers:

How else! That's what Udarnaya is for!

How could it be otherwise, since there are people like Kharlov.

The story of Sergei Alekseev, Berlin Celebrity, is a story about the famous Soviet sniper during the Great Patriotic War, about Vasily Zaitsev.

BERLIN CELEBRITY

There were many famous snipers on the Stalingrad front: Viktor Medvedev, Gilfan Avzalov, Anatoly Chekhov... The most famous is Vasily Zaitsev. The famous sniper has almost three hundred killed fascists.

The Nazis decided to destroy the marksman. A large reward was offered to whoever killed the Soviet sniper. Zaitsev is only cautious and experienced. The Nazis are unable to determine from where the soldier is shooting. The fighter changes positions. Today he is sitting in a trench. Tomorrow he will hide behind the stonework of the basement. On the third day he shoots from the windows of a broken house. Climbing under the belly of a burnt tank, he hits the enemy on the fourth.

The promised reward does not help. There is no shooter among the Nazis at Stalingrad who would be equal to Vasily Zaitsev.

The Nazis increased the reward. Hunters are prowling everywhere. But no one has any luck. There is no shooter among the Germans at Stalingrad who could defeat Zaitsev.

It's a shame for the fascists. Hitler's commanders remembered that in Berlin there was a famous German marksman, Major Konings, the head of a school of fascist snipers. Konings was urgently summoned to Stalingrad. A Berlin sniper arrived on a special plane.

Konings learned the name of the Russian craftsman.

Zaitsev? Ho-ho! - laughed.

A resourceful man was found among the German soldiers:

Mister Major, Medvedev is among them!

And Viktor Medvedev is really after Vasily

Zaitseva was the most accurate shooter at the front.

The Berlin guest got the joke:

Ooh!

Konings is tall and broad-shouldered. On the neck is an Iron Cross.

The German soldiers are looking at Konings - that’s who will finish off Zaitsev. And at the same time with Medvedev, Avzalov, Chekhov...

And then Major Konings and Vasily Zaitsev came together in a sniper battle.

Be careful, Konings is very careful. Zaitsev is even more careful.

Eye-catcher Konings. Zaitsev is even smarter.

Konings is patient. Zaitsev is even more patient.

The shooters sat in front of each other for four days. They were waiting to see who would be the first to give themselves away, who would be the first to make a mistake.

Konings uses various tricks. Everyone is trying to make sure that the Soviet sniper pokes his head out from behind cover at least for a second. And Zaitsev is thinking about the same thing: how to force Major Konings to leave his hiding place for a second.

Heather Konings. Zaitsev is even more cunning. He called soldier Nikolai Kulikov over to him and instructed him: sit next to me. Take a stick, put the helmet on the stick, stick it out of the trench a little. If a shot rings out, throw up your hands, scream and fall.

Clear?

Clear! - the soldier answered.

Kulikov stuck his helmet out of the trench, and immediately a bullet hit the helmet. Kulikov threw up his hands as agreed, screamed and fell to the bottom of the trench. Konings is glad of his luck. I'm sure I hit Zaitsev. He was curious to look: he stuck his head out from behind the cover and looked. He looked, and immediately Vasily Zaitsev’s bullet killed Major Konings.

A Berlin celebrity lies motionless on Stalingrad soil. On the neck the Iron Cross sticks out like a tombstone.

S. Alekseev

Biography of Sergei Alekseev

Sergei Alekseev books on the Top books website

Sergei Alekseev list of books

One hundred stories about war Sergey Petrovich Alekseev

Chapter first THE END OF THE BLITZKRIEG

BREST FORTRESS

LIEPAJA

CAPTAIN GASTELLO

Audacity

THOROUGH WORD

ESTATE

TWO TANKS

FULL-FULL

One hundred stories about war
Sergey Petrovich Alekseev

Chapter first
THE END OF THE BLITZKRIEG