PROGRESS PUBLISHERS
•
MOSCOW
'B&Hii 8 •»'•• *•
[1]LETTERS FROM THE DEAD
From these pages speak out the dead, those who died fighting the nazi invaders between 1941 and 1945. This is a collection of their letters and documents written in the last minutes of their lives-in a Gestapo cell, a concentration camp or in the heat of battle. Here is a passionate call for triumph over fascism and world reaction, an appeal to those who survived to carry on the fight for mankind's future happiness, for eternal peace among all men.
These words of farewell written by Soviet partisans, underground fighters, soldiers, girls and boys driven into captivity, give an exceptionally penetrating insight into the Soviet character---the moral integrity, faith in victory, hatred for the foe and fervent patriotism.
__COPYRIGHT__ First printing 1965 __TRANSL__ TRANSLATED FROM THE RUSSIAN BYThose heroic and tragic war years 1941--45 are gradually fading into the past. But the further they get from us and the more the war wounds heal, the better perspective we have on the titanic efforts of their victims.
Mankind will never forget them, those who gave their lives to save others from slavery, to shield human civilisation and bring long-awaited peace.
Dear reader, you have before you a collection of documents left by Soviet patriots who died for the liberation and happiness of their country. Most of these letters, testaments, diaries and notes were written just a few days, hours or even minutes before death in a nazi prison cell, on the battlefield or in the rear.
These deeply-moving and awe-inspiring last lines cannot but induce a feeling of pride and admiration for these brave men and women. They spared no effort, not even their lives to safeguard their country's independence, to smash fascism and the "New Order" in Europe.
During the four years of their struggle against a formidable and ruthless enemy, the Soviet people battled with the Germans on a front stretching from the Arctic Ocean to the Black Sea.
The war demanded countless sacrifices. The nazis were sweeping aside all life and freedom that lay in their path, were despoiling and trampling underfoot the dearest and most precious human values. Hitler's men overran Europe to bleed white Soviet people and make them subservient to the German bankers and industrial magnates.
Once in the hands of their executioners, many men and women courageously withstood all trials and torments, 9 preferring to die by enemy bullet rather than betray a comrade. Through the innumerable acts of heroism we can feel the unbroken spirit, the intrepid faith in victory over fascism, the supremacy of communist over fascist ideas.
At first losses were many and defeats common. In defence Soviet troops stood firm, then switched to the offensive driving the nazis from the country and bringing freedom to Europe and liberation from the nazi terror. No matter where the combat, Soviet patriots fought to the bitter end. And they won.
On the field of battle, in a prison cell or in a partisan dugout, many of them jotted down their innermost thoughts and noble feelings. Some used their old letters, some a scrap of paper, others their Party or Y.C.L. card, their handkerchiefs or head-scarfs to write to their near and dear ones, to their comrades-in-arms of their faith in victory and readiness to lay down their lives for a happy future.
From these pages speak the fearless warriors who were the first to bar the way to the nazi forces. On the Western frontier, close to the Ukrainian village of Paripsa, some 136 borderguards bore the brunt of a first assault. For an hour and a half they held at bay 16 tanks advancing along the ZhitomirKiev highway. Junior Lieutenant Sinokop took a scrap of paper and wrote what was to become a solemn pledge to all who fell in battle: "I'm going to die for my country. The enemy won't take me alive.''
We do not know the names of the other border-guards. What we do know is that they were all staunch heroes.
Then come the brief notes from the Brest Fortress defenders:
``There were five of us: Sedov, I. Grutov, Bogolyub, Mikhailov, V. Selivanov. We beat back the first attack on 22.VI.41 at 3.15. We shall die but not retreat!''
``We'll die but won't desert the fortress.''
``I am dying but won't surrender! Farewell, my country. 20/VII-41.''
Many hundred miles separate Brest from Moscow, but this is where the main nazi drive on Moscow started. And it was here that a few hundred valiant men made a last ditch stand in their fortress and brought a German division to a halt for a whole month. As they shot their last rounds, the defenders, shedding their blood but never their courage, wrote their final words on the fortress walls, words of tenderness to their families, their country and their Party. So it was everywhere. 10 Everywhere sons and daughters gave their last breath to save their homeland from the nazi marauders.
As they faced their executioners the authors of these notes met their death with heads raised high.
``... Today, tomorrow-I don't know when-they are going to shoot me because I cannot go against my conscience, because I am a Komsomol girl. I'm not afraid to die and I shall die calmly,'' wrote Yelena Ubiivovk, one of the members of a big underground organisation in Poltava. All she regretted was that she had been able to do so little in her 20 years.
Another letter is by young Communist Ivan Kozlov, a key member of the Minsk underground caught by the Germans. He spent two months in prison under constant torture and interrogation. But nothing could break his will. Just before his execution he wrote to his comrades: "No tears. No despair. Our blood won't be shed in vain.
``Have courage, be brave, don't be afraid and never despair.
``I would give anything to live and get revenge on these savages! That you must do. If only I were able.. .. You can bet your life I would have slaughtered these dirty swine.. . . Yet only a couple of years ago I was too scared even to carve a little chicken....''
Many people volunteered to remain behind the lines and eagerly carried out the responsible work they were given.
With heavy heart, Leonid Silin bade farewell to his home. Like many other patriots he volunteered for the front. War is cruel. In his last note to his wife and children he wrote: "I want to hug and kiss you for the last time. Today I am to be shot by order of the German Command.... I die for my country, for our Party, for all Russians, Ukrainians, Byelorussians and all other people in the land, and for you. Love our country like I loved her, fight for her like I have and, if need be, die for her like me!''
Among the heroes who fought until their last breath on the approaches to Moscow were soldiers under the command of Alexander Vinogradov. They barred the way to the swastika'd tanks. "Three of us left: Kolya, Volodya and I, Alexander. ... There goes another-Volodya from Moscow. The tanks keep coming at us. Only two of us now. But we shall hold out as long as we can... . Now there's only me, wounded in the head and arm. But we've knocked out more tanks. That makes 23 of them.''
11Here is a strength of character that will never die: three, two, one, mortally wounded, and 23 tanks are put out of action. There must have been many heroes like Alexander Vinogradov and his comrades or the famous 28 Panfilov men who fought to the last man.
The poet-martyr and hero Musa Jalil, executed in a Berlin prison, wrote this spirited call to battle:
Today the last of my songs I sing:
The axe hangs over my head.
It was songs that taught me freedom to prize.
Now they bid me to die like a fighter.
My life was a love-song that soared to the skies;
Let my death be the battle-song of a fighter.
Some of Jalil's poems were preserved and returned to the Soviet Union by a member of the Belgian Resistance Movement who had shared a cell with the poet. In this and many other ways anti-fascists from all over Europe joined hands and forged an unshakable friendship. Languages of many nations are inscribed on the walls of the "Death Fortress" set up by the Germans just outside Kaunas. "Keep up your spirits even in this cess-pit. Victory is ours! Workers of the world, unite !"-words in Russian, Rumanian, French and English, scrawled on the solitary-cell wall in the Tiraspol Gestapo prison.
By their bravery and sheer guts. Soviet heroes became an inspiration to anti-fascist fighters the world over.
__b_b_b__As you read these letters you cannot help appreciating the lofty ideals and communist principles which have always motivated the actions of the best people of the Soviet land. They have faith in the coming of a society without wars or plunder, a love for communism and their homeland, a desire for comradeship and friendship among all nations.
The thoughts of the Soviet people in prison cells often turned to the past, weighing up the good and the bad and passing judgement on themselves. These are quite ordinary men and women and when the time came for heroism they did not flinch. They gave all they could for victory and did it as a matter of course. And the knowledge that they were laying down their lives for the people lightened their cruel 12 fate. Almost everyone of the letters mentions this. These anti-fascist warriors used the slightest opportunity to inform the folks at home, their comrades and countrymen that Hitler's hangmen had not broken their will. They called out to those alive to mercilessly crush their murderers.
Riga underground hero Imant Sudmalis and Donetsk Komsomol and underground leader Savva Matekin both bear witness to this undying faith and iron will.
``When I look back over the days gone by, I have nothing to reproach myself for,'' wrote Imant Sudmalis in a Gestapo dungeon before he was hanged. "I acted like a man and a fighter in those fateful days.''
While waiting to be shot, Savva Matekin shared his last thoughts with his wife: "What can a man do when he is in the death cell? All the same they're scared of me. Tell that to our people....''
At the time of the country's most harrowing tribulations, thousands of people became giants among men and appeared to the world as titans moulded from head to foot of pure steel.
``The horrors of war must never return! Peace will triumph and life will prosper again!" That was the wish of these legendary heroes. We shall never forget them. And we must ensure their last wish is observed.
Every letter has its own story. Before they arrived in this collection most of them travelled a hard and often perilous journey, through many hands, along the rutted roads of war. Keeping them often entailed mortal danger for those behind the lines. They preserved them as their most precious possession. Many similar letters were consumed in the flames of war and, no doubt, more than a few still lie undiscovered.
These letters, notes, inscriptions on walls, diary excerpts, etc., are presented in chronological order and divided into sections where they happen to be connected by one particular place or author, in which case they are arranged according to the date of the last letter.
Each letter has a short note on its author and the conditions under which it was written.
[13] ~ [14] You may die, but in the song
of the brave and the strong in
heart, you will forever be a
living example, a proud appeal
for liberty and reason.
June 22--July 20, 1941
There were five of us: Sedov, I. Grutov, Bogolyub, Mikhailov, V. Selivanov. We fought the first attack on 22.VI.1941 at 3.15. We shall die but not retreat!
We'll die but won't desert the fortress.
I am dying but won't surrender! Farewell, my country. 20/VII-41.
__b_b_b__The defence of the Brest Fortress^^*^^ between June and July 1941 has gone down in history as an immortal act of valour by Soviet soldiers who, though fighting against countless odds, held off many enemy assaults and never surrendered.
Against the fortress manned by only a small garrison, the nazi High Command used its 45th Infantry Division which included nine light and three heavy artillery batteries and was reinforced by the 27th Artillery Regiment, plus nine howitzers and heavy mortars.
Despite the advantage gained by their surprise attack the Germans failed to take the fortress by storm. Appreciating the gravity of the situation, the fortress officers rapidly rearranged command over the defence operations. On the third day of battle, June 24, 1941, Order No. 1 was issued to the garrison. It stated that the situation demanded a unified command and co-ordinated action against the enemy, that all the remaining forces were to be combined into a single group under the command of Captain Ivan Zubachov, with Regimental Commissar Yefim Fomin as his political assistant.
_-_-_^^*^^ For the whole amazing story of the Fortress defenders, see Heroes of Brest Fortress, S. Smirnov, Progress Publishers, Moscow.
__PRINTERS_P_17_COMMENT__ 2---3928 17
The fortress defenders were still beating off enemy attacks when on June 27 German tanks entered Minsk, the Byelorussian capital. When, on June 16, practically a whole month after the outbreak of war, the ancient Russian town of Smolensk fell, the Brest Fortress still stood as a redoubtable bastion deep in the rear of Hitler's armies and, cut off from the rest of the world (their wireless was put out of action in the first few days), they still held out using grenades, rifles and machine-guns to beat back the frantic enemy. There was no water, food supplies were running out, but the fortress defenders gave no thought to surrendering.
When the plan to take the fortress by infantry attacks failed, the 12th German Corps commanders concentrated artillery fire from the neighbouring 31st and 34th divisions on the fortress. Mass bombing raids continued. But the men still thwarted the Germans. And in answer to the enemy's offer to them to surrender, a strip of cloth was hung from one of the fortress walls. On it were the words in blood: "We shall all die for our country, but we won't surrender!''
Even the nazis, who had conquered almost all Europe, were struck by the firmness and courage of the Soviet men and women in the fortress. Among the captured staff papers of the 45th German Infantry Division a battle report was discovered which contained the following acknowledgement:
``Overwhelming attacks on a fortress defended by a courageous garrison cost a lot of blood. This simple truth has been proved yet again in the capture of the Brest Fortress. The Russians in BrestLitovsk fought with exceptional stubbornness and determination, they displayed superb infantry training and a splendid will to resist.''
18
Most of the valiant defenders of the Brest Fortress met their death, including the commanding officers. Yefim Fomin, seriously wounded, was captured by the Germans and shot. Captain Zubachov died in a German concentration camp.
In the liny group of defenders who did come out alive was Brest hero Major Pyotr Gavrilov, former CO of the 44th Infantry Regiment. It was Gavrilov, more dead than alive, who led the last battle. Wounded and shell-shocked, he fell into nazi hands. German officers respectfully regarded him as a man of uncommon persistence and faith in victory.
Excavations among the ruins of the fortress unearthed the remains of soldiers, banners, guns and personal papers. Many inscriptions made by the heroic defenders have been found on the stone arches, walls and stairs.
[19] __ALPHA_LVL1__ NOTE22 June 1941
Ass. Com. Border-Post, Junior Lieutenant Nikolai Sinokop. Bobrik village, Romensk District, Sumy Region.
I'll die for my country. The enemy won't take me alive.
22.6.41.
__b_b_b__Nikolai Sinokop was born into a peasant's family on June 5, 1918, in the village of Bobrik in Sumy Region. In 1938, he was called up to serve in the Red Army. Two years later he was commissioned to Junior Lieutenant and appointed assistant commander of a borderpost on the western frontier of the Soviet Union.
At the outbreak of war, the border-guards were the first to bear the brunt of the nazi attack. Many fierce battles took place between the men guarding the frontier and the leading German units. The enemy had immense advantage and was supported by tanks and artillery. The dauntless border-guards had nothing to repulse the assault with but machine- and submachine-guns and rifles. Despite the heavy odds the guards put up staunch resistance to the tanks.
Like thousands of his frontier comrades, Komsomol member Nikolai Sinokop found himself in the heat of the battle in the very first hours of the war. It was then that he vowed to fight to the last breath and not let the enemy through. He took off his medallion^^*^^ and wrote the words of his pledge on the same paper as his name and place of birth.
_-_-_^^*^^ Identity cylinder, a plastic cylinder used in the Soviet Army as an identification disc.
20After stubborn, bloody and grossly unequal pitched battles with the enemy, the surviving border-guards had to retreat eastwards. Combining in a foot-column of about two hundred men they made their way along the Zhitomir-Kiev highway.
On July 13, 1941, somewhere between 10 and 11 a.m., the column, which had left the town of Skvir and was heading for the village of Popelnya, was overtaken by 16 nazi tanks. On the outskirts of Paripsa (some 3 miles from Popelnya) the guards decided to engage the enemy. At a signal from their commanding officer the soldiers quickly fanned out over the village vegetable plots and dug in. One group under Jun. Lt. Sinokop lay in wait on a small hill to the north-west of the village. Without any anti-tank weapons, the border-guards fearlessly battled it out on the open ground with the black-swastika'd tanks for an hour and a half. But the odds were too great.
After the battle, peasants from neighbouring villages picked up among the deserted and burning tanks and buried 136 dead borderguards. Among the papers discovered on the dead men was this note folded inside Jun. Lt. Sinokop's identification cylinder.
[21] __ALPHA_LVL1__ TESTAMENTAugust 26--28, 1941
Please convey this to my mother Mrs. Lurje, an evacuee from Latvia, now living in Kirov.
I die for my country, for communism. It's two months now since this fierce battle with the enemy began. For me the last stage of the fight has now come-the battle for Tallinn. There can be no retreat.
It's hard to die at 24, but for such a worthy cause, when millions of lives are held in the balance of history, I, too, give my life, knowing that future generations and you who remain among the living, will honour and remember us as the world's liberators from a horrible plague. What more is there to write?
Mum,
Don't take it too badly.
I'm not the first nor the last to give my life for communism, for my country.
Long live the U.S.S.R. and victory over the enemy!
Y.C.L. member of the Latvian
~ ~ ~ ~ Regiment
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Bina Lurje
The 1st Latvian Volunteer Infantry Regiment, formed in the very first days of the war and attached to the 8th Army took part in those furious defensive battles against the German assault on Latvia and Estonia in the summer of 1941.
In August 1941, together with other Army and Navy units, the regiment defended Tallinn, the capital of Soviet Estonia.
Bina Lurje served in this regiment.' Back in bourgeois Latvia he had been a fighter for his people's liberation. The Ulmanis court had sentenced him to penal servitude for his communist activities. But that did not crush the young patriot's will. When the Soviets set him free in 1940 he gave himself fully to his work, even though he was a sick man.
As soon as war broke out, Bina Lurje joined the volunteers. He defended Tallinn to his last round, to his last drop of blood, and was killed in the street fighting. The memory of this brave and dedicated man left a deep trace on the minds of his comrades.
After his death, his comrades-in-arms discovered in his pocket this testament placed in his Y.C.L. card.
[23] __ALPHA_LVL1__ EXTRACTS FROM PROF. LEONID KULIK'SOctober 21--28, 1941
October 21, 1941. District village of Vskhody,^^*^^
Smolensk Region
Autumn is waning; the rooks have departed;
The forest stands naked, the fields lie deserted.
Bleak, windy and rainy. The snow has melted, the last leaves on the trees rustle and float through the air one by one. There isn't a soul about in the village, people are hiding in the few decent houses left. All that lives is the highway teeming with German vehicles of all shapes and sizes. And sometimes there are long columns of prisoners.
Grief has cast her shadow over our country.
What am I? Who am I?
First of all I am wounded. My leg wound is improving, but slowly, since I'm on the go from morning to night as I am, in the second place, a medical instructor. To put it plainly, I'm medical orderly in an infirmary for the Soviet wounded in the village of Vskhody.
First I was on the dressings and operations and also a kind of general help. Now they have put me in charge of the general anaesthetic during operations and attached me to the children's ward. It has six patients: Manya, Nina, Panya (all 3-5 years old), Vanya (12), Dusya and Polya (17).
_-_-_^^*^^ In this village the Germans set up a ``hospital'' and left Soviet wounded soldiers to die there.
24October 28, 1941
. .. Dead of night. A thick, putrid stench of festering wounds... . The close, oppressive, sticky air is filled with groans, animal-like wailing, wild shrieks... . It's unbearably stuffy. In the dim light from the splinter painfully glistens the blue eye (the other is smashed) of a boy, a good boy, his stomach ripped open by a shell splinter.
__b_b_b__Leonid Kulik was born in 1883. After leaving school he studied at Kazan University. But he was not to finish his studies. He was in charge of an organisation of the Russian Social-Democratic Labour Party. On instructions from the Bolshevik centre he carried out a raid on a tsarist prison to liberate a condemned revolutionary. The bold plan paid off but Kulik himself was arrested and exiled to Orenburg Gubernia.
There he worked as a forester's assistant, which suited him well since he was a great nature lover. He collected minerals, studied plant life and geology and became an expert on mineralogy, ornithology and botany.
After the 1917 Revolution his work and knowledge were widely recognised and he became Scientific Secretary to the Meteorite Commission of the U.S.S.R. Academy of Sciences. He journeyed all over the country in search of meteorites.
He was particularly fascinated by the riddle of the Tunguska meteorite. He gave twenty years of his life to this problem, during which time he made countless expeditions to the place where the giant Tunguska meteorite had fallen. These were difficult journeys which entailed much danger and sacrifice, all willingly endured for the purpose of unravelling the secret.
When war broke out. Prof. Kulik was 60. But he joined the ranks of the people's volunteer detachments. Neither the Academy of Sciences nor the entreaties of his colleagues and wife could persuade him to remain in Moscow. He had made up his mind that his place was alongside the anti-fascist fighters.
And so, a hard life at the front began for the elderly scientist. Soviet troops were on the retreat. In the autumn of 1941, during a battle near Spass-Demensk on the Smolensk plain, a group of men including Leonid Kulik found themselves behind the lines. They decided to fight their way back. Soon they ran into an enemy patrol. In the ensuing skirmish the professor was hit in the leg and lost consciousness. When he came to, he gritted his teeth and began crawling eastwards. His leg wound was agonising and he was craving for water. Once again he fainted. This time he regained consciousness in a nazi prison camp. Interrogations began. The Germans soon realised they had a noted Soviet scientist in their hands.
They tried everything to break him down. But they failed. Kulik got in touch with the villagers and through them with the partisans. He organised an infirmary in the camp and sat many 25 long nights at the bedside of the wounded doing his best to relieve their suffering.
The partisans devised a plan for rescuing the professor. But it did not come off. One hour before the appointed time, the Germans sent him off to Spass-Demensk where he was pitched into a typhus barracks.
Here, too, he did what he could to ease the suffering of the delirious patients. But, faint with hunger, the old scientist's organism was not equal to it, and on the third day he, too, went down with typhoid fever. For a long time he raved in a delirium, fighting battles, escaping from the camp, calling to his wife and daughter, shouting something to the partisans, cursing the enemy and persuading someone to go with him in search of the Tunguska meteorite. Death cut short the scientist's sufferings. On April 14, 1942, Prof. Leonid Kulik passed away.
[26] __ALPHA_LVL1__ LETTEROctober 1941
Dear Sasha,
If I die, write to my old people that I died painlessly and calmly. I hate fascism, I hate the bloody, plundering and murdering fascist scum. And if I had a second life, I'd give it too. Tell them I'm happy to have fought in this great battle.
Farewell, don't forget me,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Arkady Poluektov
In October of 1941, Moscow was in mortal danger. Hitler's armies had pushed on into Mozhaisk, Maloyaroslavets and Naro-Fominsk, not far from the capital.
The Naro-Fominsk sector of the front was being defended by the 33rd Army commanded by Lieutenant-General Yefremov. The battle did not let up day or night. Side by side with the Red Army regular detachments fought the soldiers of the people's volunteer corps of the Kuibyshev and Frunze districts of Moscow. The soldiers daily performed miracles of valour and daring. Every soldier knew that Moscow lay behind him and that the enemy had to be stopped at all costs.
In order to spot the enemy's firing points, gunner-scout Arkady Poluektov was always trying to crawl as close as he could to enemy lines so that his comrades on the gun batteries could pinpoint their target. One bleak October day the brave scout was fire-spotting from his vantage point. Enemy tanks and guns blew up into the air together with their crews on his directions. But Arkady was to scout no more. He lay dead, struck by an enemy bullet.
His last letter was written to his friend Alexander Gorbulin.
[27] __ALPHA_LVL1__ LETTERLate October 1941
Comrade Sailors of the Red Navy,
We, Baltic Fleet sailors on Dago Island, in this critical hour, vow to our government and Party that we shall fight to the last man rather than surrender our island.
We shall show the whole world that Soviet sailors know how to die having done their duty to their country with honour.
Farewell, comrades.
Avenge our death. Destroy the fascist scum.
Centre. Dago Island, Takhkun Peninsula.
Signed on behalf of us all
Kurochkin, Orlov, Konkin
For two months a small garrison on the Moonzund archipelago in the enemy's rear defended the island of Soviet Estonia. The enemy had to divert considerable forces to deal with this handful of brave men who were killing so many enemy soldiers, sinking ships and shooting down planes.
The last battles took place on the Takhkun horn, the most northernly tip of Khiuma (Dago) Island. It had fortified positions manned by a small garrison of sailors. On October 12, 1941, the Germans began large-scale landings on the island. Some 30 launches headed for the western beaches, near Nurst. Southwards near Terkma, 15 landing craft with an infantry regiment on board were hovering off-shore. The landings were covered by artillery from Sarem Island, from an enemy 28 cruiser and four destroyers, and by terrific bombardment from the air. The Khiuma defenders opened up on the enemy landing boats. The shore batteries sank about two dozen craft and launches. But the nazis brought up more and more reinforcements. Under cover of darkness they managed to get a landing party ashore and began to advance.
Soldiers of the 33rd Engineers' Battalion manned the defences of the southern bank. The battalion's machine-gunners succeeded in pegging the enemy back. For several days fierce fighting went on all over the island. On October 17, the island garrison retreated to the last outpost of defence. It stretched from Tarest to the west, covering the Takhkun Peninsula.
The Baltic Fleet Command decided to evacuate the island garrison to Hanko Peninsula. But stormy weather stopped the ships from putting in at the island. Only on October 19 did the launches succeed in taking the Khiuma Island defenders off.
Under constant fire and bombardment, a group of sailors covered the evacuation. Before the last decisive battle the Takhkun defenders wrote their letter of farewell, pledging to defend their native soil until their last cartridge, until their last drop of blood. Having sealed the letter in a bottle, they hurled it into the sea. At the beginning of the winter of 1941 the bottle was picked up in the open sea by sailors aboard a Soviet patrol vessel.
[29] __ALPHA_LVL1__ LETTERNot later than November 13, 1941^^*^^
Volkhov~
My dear wife Stanislava, little Valya and mum,
Please excuse my bad writing. I'm having to write on a scrap of paper perched on my knees. Hurrying to let you know I'm alive and about to go into battle.
Maybe this letter will be the last, my dear ones. Dear Stanislava, look after our daughter and care for my mother. If you don't get any more news from me, you'll know I gave my life honourably for you and our beloved country.
Best of luck---your husband and father.
Stassya, once again, look after our little girl.
Love to you all,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kolya
Nikolai Gatalsky was a regular officer in the Soviet Aimy On finishing a three-year course :n a military-political school he was appointed to the 144th Division When war broke out he was transferred to another unit fighting on the Leningrad Front "The fascists will never set foot in the city of Lemn,'' he used to tell the men and always himself headed the counter-attacks
The fighting was at its hottest around Leningrad Gatalsky's detachment took up the defence of a hamlet called Morozovo On the _-_-_
^^*^^ Nikolai Gatalsky was killed in battle on November 13, 1941
30 morning of Novcmbei 13, 1941, the nazis began a fierce assault It seemed that just one moie push and the remaining heroes would be wiped out But at that moment, the political instructor raised himself to his full height Behind him rose the others With their last handgrenades they tore into the enemy shouting ``hurrah''.When the battle died down, there on the snow, surrounded by nazi coipses, lay the political instructor. His men buried him on the outskuts of the village Ini^c volleys rang out Then, Nikolai Gatalsky's comrades again rushed into the fray
[31] __ALPHA_LVL1__ NOTE AND LETTERNovember 29, 1941
Tomorrow I die, Mum.
You've lived fifty years, and I only twenty-four, I so much want to live. How little I've done. I want to live to kill these hateful fascists. They've tortured me, but I haven't told them a thing. I know my partisan comrades will avenge my death. They'll wipe out the invaders.
Don't cry, Mum. I'll die knowing that I've done all I can for victory. It's no sin to die for the people. Tell all the girls to join the partisans, be brave and kick these uninvited dogs out of the country.
Victory is not far off!
__b_b_b__November 30, 1941
My dear Mummy,
I'm writing this letter just before I die. When you get it I shall no longer be alive. Dear Mum, you mustn't cry over me, and you mustn't grieve too much. I'm not afraid of death.. .. Mummy, you are all alone and I don't know how you will get on without me. I think Zoya will look after you alright. Anyway, my dear one, you must get along somehow. Mum, I envy you a little all the same; you've already lived fifty years, but I have to die at 24, and how much I want to live and see the future. Never mind, enough of dreaming....
I'll end now, I can't write any more. My hands are trembling and my head won't work. I've been without food now 32 for two days and nights, but it's easier to die on an empty stomach. You know. Mum, it's such a pity to die.
Well, never mind. Farewell, my dearest mother. I'd love to see you all, you, Zoya, dear little Zhenya. If he grows up to be a man, tell him what his auntie was like. Well that's all. All my love to you all, and to you. Mummy.
Your daughter Vera.
__b_b_b__When the enemy had taken the western districts of Kalinin Region, a wide-scale partisan movement started up.
Vera Porshneva was trained as a machine-gunner and posted to a partisan unit where she was praised as a fearless and daring fighter.
A little later, she was given instructions to take up work in German Commandatura, and get all the information she could. She became the best scout in the partisan unit. Vera was given away by a traitor and fell into nazi hands. This happened in the hamlet of Borisovka. For twelve days, the Gestapo interrogated the girl using all their usual methods.
All without success. Her torturers tried a new trick: they let her go. Vera made up her mind to hide and later get back to her unit, but she was closely followed and two days later she was again seized and thrown into a stone cellar in a barn.
Inhuman tortures began. They forced white-hot needles under her nails, burnt her breast, drove her half naked into the snow, gave her neither water nor food. And only greater and greater hatred welled up in her eyes, eyes which before the war everyone had said were always so kind.
Vera knew death was not far off, but she didn't complain. She was confident in victory over the nazis. All she grieved for was her mpther. On a tiny piece of grey paper Vera wrote a few lines to her, which bear the pain in her heart, sober words of comfort and confidence in a quick victory. But she didn't manage to get this note through. Just before her death she wrote another little letter which she sewed in the fold of her coat.
Before they shot her the brutal Gestapo branded a five-- cornered star on the young heroine's breast. Vera Porshneva died on December 21, 1941.
December 20, 1941
My dear country! Dear Russian land! I, a son and pupil of Leninist Y.C.L., have fought as my heart directed me, I killed those bastards as long as my heart beat in my chest. I am dying, but I know we shall win. The enemy won't get into Sevastopol.
Black Sea sailors! Destroy the fascist mad dogs. I have kept my sailor's vow.
Kaluzhny
__b_b_b__By mid-November 1941, the nazi forces had taken all Crimea with the exception of Sevastopol. The defence of this famous naval town lasted more than eight months. The enemy bore tremendous losses in men and weapons. Many brave sailors and naval officers of the redoubtable Black Sea Fleet met their death during those heroic and tragic days.
Naval machine-gunner Alexei Kaluzhny fought together with his comrades-in-arms in pill-box No. 11 located at a crucial point near the village of Dalny. For three days and nights the bold sailors fought off fierce enemy attacks. Nazi planes constantly, bombed the pill-box and it was heavily shelled. Petty Officer S. S. Rayenko, A. V. Kaluzhny, D. I. Pogorelov, T. Dolya, I. Chetvertakov and others swore not to budge an inch. Their supplies were running out, smoke was blinding and choking them. Many sailors lay wounded. On the third night, November 19, they received some reinforcements-M. N. Potapenko, K. I. Korol and P. Korzh, bringing with them ammunition, food and some water. Thanks to this help the brave sailors held out for another 24 hours. But the odds were too great. On December 20, when all that was left were three gravely wounded sailors, the nazis stormed the height and overran the pill-box.
A few days later Soviet troops again beat back the enemy. In what was left of the dug-out they found nine of the fallen heroes. In the gas-mask bag of the dead gunner Alexei Kaluzhny, they found a scrap of paper-the sailor's last letter addressed to his fellow countrymen.
34 __ALPHA_LVL1__ VOW BY IVAN ANDROSOVDecember 1941
I go into battle a Communist, and I pledge that I shall fight bravely, skilfully and worthily, not begrudging my blood and even my life to wipe out this nazi plague. All I ask is, after fascism is destroyed, if I am killed, to let my parents know that I died for Lenin's cause. The address is Tatiana Androsova, Noviki Village, Malevichesky Village Soviet, Zhlobinsky District, Gomel Region, Byelorussian S.S.R.
I pledge I shall not leave the battlefield even if I am wounded as long as I have strength.
Comradely greetings,~
Communist soldier Ivan Androsov
__b_b_b__In the dark days of October 1941, Hitler's hordes tried to overrun the old Russian gunsmith town of Tula.
For many days, the soldiers fought a persistent battle against overwhelming odds.
On December 4 and 5, the town was almost completely surrounded. All highways linking it up with Moscow and the nearest district centres were cut off. Only to the north-west of Tula there remained a narrow strip of land which the enemy forces had not managed to overrun.
In one of the fierce encounters with Guderian panzer, a brave young Communist of the 150th Regiment, Ivan Androsov, met his end. The steel monsters were bearing down on a tiny handful of gallant soldiers who met them with hand grenades and incendiary bottles. The first, then the second and third stopped dead and burst into flames. But more came on. And as they came, Ivan Androsov hurriedly jotted down the last words he was ever to write. Three sheets from his notebook were put in his Party card. At the next enemy rush he hurriedly grabbed at his gun, but an enemy bullet got there first.
35 __ALPHA_LVL1__ LETTERS FROM LAZAR PAPERNIK,Late December 1941
Dear little Zina and Leonard,~
Happy New Year. Good luck and good health. I hope 1942 will be a year of happy homecomings after the fascist dogs have been kicked out of our land, so that we can all meet again in our dear Moscow.
As you can see from the papers, we are driving the nazi swine farther and farther from our Moscow, freeing more and more towns and villages. I've seen tens of people, young and old, children and old folk, greeting us with tears of happiness in their eyes.
I know the places we have been through in the past few days. I recalled the days I worked on building sites in the towns of Istra and New-Jerusalem; I well remember their buildings and museums. So it hurts me all the more, it really makes me boil, to see the way these monsters have smashed it all down, to see the way these plunderers have carried off everything of any value.
My dear ones, it's very difficult to get an idea from the papers of these nazi pigs and of their "New Order".
As assistant political instructor I have had enough opportunity to witness the consequences of the foul actions of the 36 fascist scum. They're going to have to pay dearly for all they've done on our land. They'll have to answer for all the people they've enslaved.
1942 will be a year of complete destruction of these dregs of humanity, a year of destruction of everything born of the black plague of fascism.
I'm glad that in these difficult days I am among the country's defenders. I'm glad I've had a decent training for my service in the Red Army. All my peace-time hobbies-- skiing, riding, shooting-have come in very handy and I proudly recall the days when, even though I was overloaded with work, I trudged off to the gliding school or to the Budyonny Cavalry School, and my days-off when I went skiing on the Vorobyovy Hills, even though mum was against it.
A couple of days ago I had a very interesting and touching meeting in the woods. After a nazi air raid, I was giving a hand to some comrades from the neighbouring unit, who had been raked by machine-gun fire, when I heard one of the wounded calling my name. Just imagine my surprise to see my old factory and riding school mate, Yasha.
Well, that's all, enjoy yourselves at the New Year. Best of luck, see you soon in Moscow.
Let me know the birthday of our little sisters, I remember it's somewhere between January 21 and 25. Let me know more exactly.
Yours,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Lazar
January 6, 1942
Dear Mum and Dad,
Alive, well, everything as before.
I'm doing as you wanted-killing the nazis and liberating the land for us and you, for thousands of people who have had to leave their homes.
Love and kisses,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Your Lazar
In January 1942, a group of skiers performed an act of bravery which was soon on the lips of every defender of Moscow. Twentythree heroes fought and died but did not let the enemy through.
This is how it happened.
Under the blows of the Soviet forces the foe reeled back to the west, hanging on grimly to every village and hamlet. Bitter fighting occurred over the town of Sukhmichi which the nazis had turned into a stronghold.
The detachment of skiers in which Assistant Political Instructor Papernik was serving, received instructions to drive the nazis out of the village of Khludnevo and to hang on to it until the arrival of an infantry unit. It was absolutely vital to deprive the enemy of a footing here, this being a supply point for the main town defence.
During the night of January 23, twenty-five skiers made for the enemy posts. Under cover of darkness the detachment reached the village without any trouble. Here they found out from local inhabitants that nazi reinforcements of two light tanks, mortars and artillery had arrived in the village that evening. The two sides were rather unevenly matched: 25 Soviet soldiers to more than 400 Germans. Nevertheless the valiant few decided to do their duty at all cost':.
Carefully spying out the enemy gun emplacements, the Soviet soldiers picked out their objects for attack.
It was already past midnight when the skiers came within striking distance and, at their commander's signal, simultaneously let fly their grenades and opened fire. The resultant panic gave the heroes a chance to pick off many enemy soldiers and to reach the centre of the village. But it was not long before the nazis came to their senses and began to fire back in earnest. Under cover of two tanks the Germans managed to press back the courageous men to the edge of the village. The detachment commander, Captain Laznyuk, was badly wounded. Political Instructor Yegortsev took command. He ordered one of the soldiers to carry the commander out of range of fire and then decided to make a dash with the remaining soldiers to a big timbered barn standing on a hill just beyond the village. Having taken up their places all round the barn, the skiers got ready to beat off the tanks. The enemies were closing in. The soldiers had to retreat into the barn. The fighting went on until morning.
Pravda of February 14, 1942, described this heroic epizode as follows:
``In the morning the mortars began to shell the barn. . . . One by one the skiers fell. The Germans wanted to take the rest prisoner, they stopped firing and closed in shouting: 'Surrender, Russ!' 'Soviet patriots never give themselves up!' someone shouted from the barn, and hand grenades exploded among the Germans followed by submachine-gun bursts. Enraged, the Germans threw all they had against the barn. Papernik was the only one left alive. The Germans made a rush intending to take at least one skier alive. 'Better death than nazi prison!' cried Papernik and blew himself up with a grenade.''
When the village of Khludnevo was liberated, the villagers told the story of the heroic death of the skiers. Twenty-two heroes were posthumously awarded the Order of Lenin. For bravery and devotion 38 to his country, Assistant Political Instructor Papernik was posthumously awarded the title of Hero of the Soviet Union.
Lazar Papernik was born in 1918 in a railwayman's family. From school he began work at the First Moscow Watch Factory, named after Kirov, first as turner then as milling-machine operator, adjuster, tool technician, controller and, finally, chief of the shop.
On July 17, 1941, Lazar Papernik volunteered for the front.
January 28, 1942
Dear comrades,
I've done all I could. I took over command of the battalion after our commander had been wounded, and I continued the attack according to orders. I proudly looked death in the face because I have a Bolshevik heart. I am not afraid to die. I have fought hard because I love my people, my country and my Party.
As I die on the field of battle, I want to tell my comradesin-arms that I have never known cowardice or panic.
My dying wish is that you destroy fascism once and for all. Be heroes of war so that history will remember you as valiant defenders of Russian land.
I hope that you, courageous Russian soldiers, will avenge my death.
Let my folks know how I lived and died.
Farewell, dear comrades-in-arms,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Ivan Balabanov
On January 28, 1942, Junior Political Instructor Balabanov led a group of soldiers in an attack on an enemy post in the village of Gusevo.
The enemy had firmly dug in. Every house, every barn had been turned into a stubborn nest of resistance. With the cry "Death to the nazi swine!" Balabanov, under heavy fire, rushed ahead of his soldiers to the nearest barn.
Though seriously wounded and losing blood, Balabanov forced his way into the barn. Stunned by the audacity of the attack, the enemy machine-gunners fled in panic.
The battle died down. As his strength began to ebb, Balabanov sensed that his hour was near. With shaking hands he took a sheet 40 of paper from his map-case and wrote a few words to his comrades. Again the fighting flared up. The Soviet soldiers rushed forward again and again. The enemy was pushed back. His friends found Ivan Balabanov dead. In the cold hand of their beloved leader, the soldiers found a small sheet of paper-his last note.
I am glad to do my duty to liberate our country as quickly as possible from the German scourge. If I die, then I die a devoted patriot of my country, if I live I shall do all I can to defeat the enemy.
I love my country and am ready to shed my last drop of blood for her. One thing I know: the fascist beasts will soon be destroyed, and Soviet people will live even more happily than before.
Please consider me a Communist.
__b_b_b__Sergeant Yakov Bondar, a Y.C.L. member, fought on the Leningrad Front. He was fatally wounded. In his pocket was this letter written on the eve of a battle.
[42] __ALPHA_LVL1__ TESTAMENT BY PRIVATE STEPAN VOLKOVNot later than February 12, 1942
Comrade soldiers, commanders and political instructors,~
As I go into attack, I pledge to fight to my last breath for the honour and independence of my country. I am not a Party member. But if I shed my blood in battle, consider it the blood of a Communist. Death and destruction to the nazi butchers who have sullied our sacred land!
Dear comrades-in-arms, if I die in this encounter, consider me a Communist.
Long live the great Soviet people.
Convey my greetings to my wife Marusya and daughter Tanya.
S. Volkov
__b_b_b__Stepan Volkov served in a rifle company which had orders to attack enemy stronghold in the village of Ustinovo. Just before the attack, he wrole a pledge to his comrades. On a tiny piece of notepaper he huriiedly jotted down the words of his testament: to fight to the last breath against the nazi butchers. He rolled the note into a ball and put it inside his identity cylinder.
Volkov was one of the first in the attack. From a nazi trench ahead came a burst of fire. The attackers threw themselves flat. Stepan, grenades in his hands, crawled towards the German trench and threw in his grenades killing several Germans.
The enemy firing stopped. The way into the village of Ustinovo was free. But at that moment the fearless fighter was hit by an enemy bullet.
After the battle the soldiers buried Stepan Volkov on a hillock close to the village for whose liberation he had given his life. Over his grave they read out the note found on the hero.
43 __ALPHA_LVL1__ NOTE FROM SOLDIERThere was a dozen of us sent down the Minsk Highway to bar the enemy's way, to stop the tanks. And we held out for all we could. Now only three of us are left: Kolya, Volodya and I, Alexander. But the enemy keeps coming on. There goes another-Volodya from Moscow. The tanks are coming at us But 19 are already in flames along the road. Only two of us now. But we shall hold out as long as we can, we shan't let them by until our lads arrive.
Now there's only me, wounded in the head and arm But we've knocked out more tanks. That makes 23 of them. Perhaps I'll die But, maybe someone will someday find my note and remember us. I'm from Frunze, a Russian. No relatives Farewell, friends.
Yours,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Alexander Vinogradov
22/2--1942
__b_b_b__This note only came to light sixteen yeais later, in 1958 discovered by a carpenter from the Nekrasov State Farm in Uvarovsky District, Moscow Region The carpentei, I Smirnov, found it as he was squar ing a birch log The note had been scrawled m pencil on both sides of a narrow, thin strip of tracing paper
In January and February 1942, the nazi High Command brought up another 40 divisions up from Germany and the occupied coun tries to the Soviet front to help stem the advance of the Soviet troops near Moscow These reinforcements put Soviet troops fighting in the enemy rear in the region of Vya7ma in a tight spot
In the latter part of February, dogged battles flared up along the front of the 5th Army advancing on Gzhatsk In mid-February, an order came thiough foi the 612th Infantry Regiment of the 144th 44 Infantiy Division of this aimy to push on into the enemy real and cut off the nazi communications The legiment advanced towards Gzhatsk and cut off the Minsk Highway almost 16 miles to the east of the town
On February 20, 1942, the 612th Infantry Regiment was ordered to stiaddle the Minsk Highway 95 miles west of Moscow and block the v,ay to the enemy tanks The soldiers dug in along the highway. Alexander Vinogradov s group took up position on the right flank The column of enemy tanks appeared all of a sudden speeding towards Moscow The battalion put up a desperate resistance against the naa tanks trying to blast their way through For three days the infantrymen held out Their ranks were thinning visibly, but no one gave way Twice wounded Alexander Vinogradov wrote a last lettei to his countrymen, squeezed it into a rifle cartndge and drove it into a tree trunk When, on the fourth day of the encounter, the 612th Regiment men were relieved by units from the 108th Infantry Division only a handful of survivors remained.
[45] __ALPHA_LVL1__ TESTAMENT LETTER AND NOTE HOMEAugust 30, 1941--March 7, 1942
My dear ones at home,
Greetings, though when you read my letter I shall no longer be alive.
But through death, too, through my absence, I embrace you all, my dear ones, I kiss you. Not as a ghost but as your own live and dear daddie.
My boys and Anya, don't think I went away to this awful war out of some desire to cover myself in glory.
I knew I was probably going to my death.
I love life more than anything, but more than life I love you, Anya and my boys.
And knowing what terror, what humiliating torments awaited you if Hitler had his way, knowing how they would torture you, how they would treat your mother, knowing how your mother would shrivel up and you be turned into little skeletons, I, out of love for you, had to leave you, though wanting to be with you, had to go away to war.
I went to war, that means to my death, so that you may live.
These are no fancy words. For me these words are now clothed in flesh and blood, in my own blood.
My dear Annushka, I know you will have it hardest of all. I know. But for you to be safe I am going into the fire....
46I have nothing else to add. Only to say there was no one else in the world I loved so much and found it so heartbreaking to leave behind for good, to leave behind alone, as you, my love.
Lenya, my elder son and helper,
We called you Lenya, like me.
So you will be me when I'm gone.
Our good, kind mummie has gone through a lot and dreamed so much of an easy peaceful life, but she never had much of a chance with me. I want you to make her happy.
I want her to find in you her best friend and helper. I realise it's not easy for children to grow up without a father, specially for boys. But, remember, I have died for you so that you lads can grow up-whether it be hard or not-so that you can grow up and not die from German bombs.
I have died as befits us men, defending our children, our wives, our homes, our land.
I want you too to live just as your dad lived and died.
Remember, your mum is my best friend, she's dearer to me than anyone else has ever been. So mum knows what's good and what's bad, what I've done and what I haven't, what I'd have approved of and what I wouldn't.
Always and in everything consult your mummie, don't hide anything from her, confide in all and share everything with her.
Never mind if she is a woman, she's a special woman, she's our mum, our beloved, clever mummie. She will understand everything.
Lenya, there's so much I must tell you, and I can't say it all, and a lot you won't understand anyway.
I have many things I'd like to tell you. But your mother will do this for me.
These are my parting words to you: don't forget your mum, Lenya Silin, look after her, see she is alright all her life. Love and obey your mum always.
Lenya Silin, my helper and elder son, farewell my little boy, and don't forget me.
Genya, my younger son and helper,
I leave you behind quite a toddler. You won't even remember your father's face or voice. But your elder brother, my elder son and helper, Lenya Silin, will tell you what your daddie was like, how much he loved you and what sort of 47 man he was. Mum will let you know how your father lived, worked and struggled for a better life.
All I've written to your elder brother goes for you, too. If you listen to Lenya Silin and your mum I'm sure you will be a good, brave and decent man.
My boys Lenya and Genya,
Work well at school, study German very carefully, German culture and German sciences. And you must use it all to defeat and destroy German fascism.
Try to learn from the Germans their most dangerous and terrible weapon-their organisation and precision.
And, when you feel you are strong enough, use all you have against the nazis. Don't forget, my sons, as long as nazi Germany remains, as long as one armed nazi remains, as long as even one nazi laboratory or factory carries on unchecked, then Europe, the world, mankind and you personally, and your mummie, your wives and children will live in mortal, terrible danger.
Never forget: fascism in general, and German fascism in particular, is a deadly, ravaging leprosy, the black plague, which threatens all mankind.
May your father's blood, may your father's ashes be a reminder to your little hearts, my lads, and may the last armed nazi feel your terrible revenge.
My boys and Anya, the main thing without me is to keep calm and organise your life in an orderly way, no matter what you do.
We, and myself in particular, came to grief because of the stupid and cocksure system of leaving everything to chance, disgusting organisation and the cackle-handedness of certain commanders who haven't got the faintest idea about modern war and underestimate the enemy.
I believe the enemy will be smashed and we shall win. If not, destroy the enemy wherever and whenever you have the chance.
Boys, listen to our dear, beloved mummie. She means everything to me, my nearest and dearest.
Annushka, my dear one, farewell!
__b_b_b__My darling, my honey,
Bring up our sons so that I would be proud of them even though I'm not there, so that I would be pleased with my 48 strong, brave and optimistic lads, terrors of the foe and tender and kind to people.
Be happy and healthy, look after yourselves. Farewell, love and kisses for the last time. To you, Gena, you, Lenya, you, Anya. Farewell!
Yours,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Dad
Forever Yours,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Lenya Silin-Senior
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ August 30, 1941
My dear wife Anna and boys Lenya and Gennady,
I want to hug and kiss you for the last time. Today I am to be shot by order of the German Command.
Boys, grow up and get your own back on all fascists for me. As I part from you I am entrusting you with all my blessed hatred for these vile swine. Cut them down to the last fascist. I've lived honourably, fought honourably and die honourably.
I die for our country, for our Party, for all Russians, Ukrainians, Byelorussians and all other people in the country, and for you. Love our country like I love her, fight for her like I have and, if need be, die for her like me.
Boys, love and respect and obey your mother, she's going to have a hard time bringing you up, but our country and comrades whom I've saved, won't leave you in the lurch. Remember every soldier must have one motto: I die but don't surrender. I didn't surrender. I had a concussion, couldn't walk and it wasn't right to desert my badly wounded companions. When we were prisoners I set up a Soviet colony and saved many lives. I stood by them to the last minute, I've done all I could for my country. Time's running out.
My dear ones, be decent Soviet people, grow up to be Bolsheviks! Anna, farewell! Lenya and Gennady, good-bye! Long live our country!
All my love,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Your husband and father
Leonid Silin joined up in the early days of the war. He came from a Riga family, his father being a minor official. He grew up in the same district as several German families and so came to have a good knowledge of German. Before the war he served in the Navy at Sevastopol, then worked at the Moscow Bearing Works and took a correspondence course in the Moscow College of Law. Because of a weak heart he was exempted from army service but he was one of the first to sign up when war broke out, hiding his health record. But the doctors found this out and he was discharged. It would have taken more than that to keep Leonid Silin out of action. He succeeded in his second attempt to get to the front, this time as a lawyer. These were trying years for the Soviet Union. Three months of war had brought the enemy half-way through the Ukraine. Silin's unit could not hold onto the right bank of the Dnieper and in September 1941 had to beat a retreat to Poltava. A large group of badly wounded soldiers was cut off and had to hole out in the village of Krestitelevo. The wounded lay in long barns and listened to the roar of the fighting. Finally they heard German speech. What were they to do? The enemy was likely to burn down the barns thus murdering dozens of wounded. A decision was taken in a flash. Leonid Silin rose from the straw, opened the barn door and, limping badly and leaning on a crutch, went out of the barn.
In faultless German he called out to the Germans that there were only badly wounded soldiers in the barns and asked them to hold their fire. The sudden appearance of a Soviet officer speaking fluent German took the sergeant-major by surprise and the firing stopped. Silin was taken to headquarters.
Back at H.Q., Silin endeavoured to prove himself before the senior German officers a German sympathiser. He praised the German successes and requested only that he be permitted to organise a hospital for wounded Soviet prisoners-of-war (he put himself forward as a wounded Soviet doctor). He knew full well what to expect if the Germans got wind of his complete medical ignorance. But he had to save people and it was well worth the risk. The Germans seemed pleased with the ``doctor'', so smart and excellently versed in German. They gave him permission to set up what passed as a hospital.
From among his fellow prisoners, Silin selected a group of surgeons, nurses and orderlies for his staff. Thus came into being Silin's 50 ``Ukrainian'' hospital. The nazis refused to allow any wounded Soviet officers, Communists, Jews or Russians here. And so the staff had to disguise every new entry under a Ukrainian name.
In November the occupational forces gave permission for the hospital to be moved to the village of Yeremeyevka where it was housed in a big, two-storey school. Now the wounded had a roof over their heads and there was more food to go round as the village was some distance off the beaten track, which meant less frequent raids from German requisitioning officials.
Leonid Silin was playing for time to allow the wounded to get back their strength, hoping some time later to escape from the hospital in a body and join up with the partisans in the woods. The medical staff began to engage in underground activities. They managed to get hold of a receiver and listened in to Sovinformbureau news, which they passed on to the rest of the hospital and the villagers as well. From the German stores sacks of corn began to disappear and policemen would misplace their rifles and submachineguns.
So as not to bring down the wrath of the nazis on the hospital, Silin and his confederates had to be extremely careful. Nevertheless, the German-appointed senior police officer of Yeremeyevka, the traitor Atamas, nicknamed the ``Dragon'', sensed that Silin was playing a double game. Wanting to curry favour with the Germans, Atamas began to watch Silin and gather evidence. One of the hospital staff also turned traitor.
On the night of March 2, 1942, the hospital was surrounded by German soldiers and Ukrainian police. The nazis subjected all the patients to a thorough examination and found that some were quite fit and also that there was quite a number of Russians and Jews. This discovery meant death for the hospital staff. On the next day, March 3, about 40 wounded and doctors picked out by the Germans, were taken from the hospital to the Kremenchug p.o.w. camp.
Leonid Silin remained courageous to the end. As he was being led out to the sleighs on which the wounded lay, he asked leave to bid farewell to those remaining. Addressing the villagers gathered on the village square and his wounded comrades, he called on them to continue the struggle against the invaders and keep faith in the victory of the Red Army. Seeing the enormous effect his speech was having on the people, the German officer cut him short and refused him further time. As the sleigh started to move Leonid Silin bit through a vein in his wrist, soaked his handkerchief in blood and, throwing it into the crowd, cried: "See it gets to my sons.''
The brave Riga man was shot on March 7, 1942, together with doctors Portnov and Gekker, a wounded Lieutenant-Colonel K. Bogoroditsky and others.
A day later, an escapee from the Kremenchug camp brought Silin's note to Oksana Romanchenko, a nurse at the hospital. He had managed to write it before he was shot and pass it on to some comrades with the request to get it through to nurse Romanchenko. The note was written in pencil on sheets of paper and addressed to his wife and children. When Soviet forces liberated Yeremeyevka, nurse Romanchenko dispatched the note to the Moscow address indicated.
[51] __ALPHA_LVL1__ LAST ISSUEBeginning of 1942
Our handful of men are a mighty force which the enemy reckons a division... .
... No power in the world can defeat us. Soviet people, because we are our own masters, led by our Communist Party.
This is who we are....
Here, in School No. 52:
1. Commander . .. Zhidilov, Russian;
2. Cavalry Captain Gobaladze, Georgian;
3. Tank man, Vasili Paukshtite, Lett;
4. ... Captain-Surgeon Mamedov, Uzbek;
5. Pilot, Junior Lieutenant Ilita Daurova, an Ossetian girl;
6. Sailor Ibrahim Ibrahimov, Kazan Tatar;
7. Gunner Petrunenko from Kiev, Ukrainian;
8. Infantry Sergeant Bogomolov from Leningrad, Russian;
9. Diver-scout Arkady Zhuravlev from Vladivostok;
10. I, son of a cobbler, 4th form pupil, Valeri Volkov, Russian. ...
__b_b_b__Dear comrades,
Whoever gets out of this alive must tell all who will study at this school. No matter where you end up come and tell them what happened here in Sevastopol. I want to be a bird and fly round all Sevastopol, to every home, every school, 52 every street.. .. Hitler and the other scum will never beat us.... We are the millions, watch out! From the Far East to Riga, from the Caucasus to Kiev, from Sevastopol to Tashkent. . . . We, like steel, are invincible!
Valeri "the Poet" (Volk)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 1942
This small newssheet was written to the accompaniment of the thunder of battle by a 13-year-old Sevastopol schoolboy, Valeri Volkov, one of the heroic defenders of the besieged city.
Valeri fought among the grown-ups acting as lookout, scouting and bringing in ammunition, assisting the wounded and using his rifle when the Germans attacked. Those were fierce battles with no quarter given day or night. Only eight men, a woman and a boy were left, four Russians, a Ukrainian, a Georgian, a Lett, an Uzbek, a Tatar and an Ossetian girl. That is when issue No. 11, the last, of their own newspaper came out-a vivid testament to the courage of the heroic ten.
Tanks were bearing down on the heroes. They tossed their grenades. Valeri blew up one of the tanks. But the young hero was the victim of an enemy bullet.
Twenty years went by and the ten Sevastopol heroes remained unknown. It was only recently that two of the survivors, Ivan Petrunenko and woman pilot Ilita Daurova, brought the last newssheet to people's notice.
[53] __ALPHA_LVL1__ NOTE FROM YEVGENIA BAGRECHEVA,Not later than March 19, 1942
Good-bye, my dear Mummie and Eleonora. As I wait to be hanged I am writing to send my last greetings.
Don't cry. Mum, and don't say it's my own fault. There was no other way. Look after yourself for Ellie's sake, you should now be both grannie and mother to her. Bring her up a good girl and a kind person, see that she loves her country and people.
All my love to you all, remember me to all our relations, friends and my pupils, all those who manage to get through this awful time.
Zhenya
__b_b_b__They all respected her in Kardymovo, the district centre of the Smolensk Region, where she was history teacher in the local secondary school. They respected her for her love for children, her pleasant air, modesty and because she was exacting to herself and her comrades.
In Kardymovo, as everywhere else in the country, the Germans came up against wellorganised resistance. Yevgenia was secretary of the village Communists; her fellow resistance fighters were I. Kovalev, Chairman of the Kardymovo Village Soviet, M. Selyaninova, schoolmistress, P. Shesterikova, doctor, I. Kutsenko, from a district hospital, and others.
A strong partisan movement swept the whole Smolensk Region. No small thorn in the nazis' side was provided by the Kardymovo people. After the first winter of the war, Soviet power was, in fact, restored in several villages. To put down partisan resistance, the German Command sent in its crack units from the 10th Tank Division. The nazis burned down 25 villages, shot and hanged over 500 people and carted off hundreds to their prisoner-of-war camp in Smolensk.
On March 19, 1942, Yevgenia Bagrecheva was hanged in the village centre. Before her death, she had been tortured for a long time. But nothing had broken her spirit. A few hours before her death she wrote her last letter on a tiny scrap of paper. It is now preserved in the Smolensk State Museum.
[55] __ALPHA_LVL1__ LETTER AND INSCRIPTIONNot later than March 28, 1942
My dear Dad,
Don't cry. Don't worry. Your son will never let anyone down. If you keep alive let others know about us. I don't want to die---so little we've done.
__b_b_b__ __b_b_b__I shall endure all their inhuman torture. I give you my word as a Komsomol member, dear comrades, they will never make me talk. And don't you talk either. The great things we have begun will be carried through by our comrades.
56 __b_b_b__An underground Y.C.L. was formed in the city o£ Rzhev in the first months of nazi occupation. It was led by Alexei Teleshov. There were ten in the group in October 1941.
The youngsters were not long in establishing contact with the partisans in the Panin woods. Numbers quickly multiplied. In order to get their hands on weapons, the young fighters would dispose of the German sentries. They also made a raid on the ammunition dump. Their exploits began to get around among the soldiers fighting on the Kalinin Front. In November 1941, Vladimir Novozhenov, a scout from one of the army units, established contact with them. They now began to indicate targets for Soviet bombers, made raids on enemy transports and blew up railway tracks.
Their activities were cut short by a betrayal. Fifteen underground members were rounded up.
After excruciating torture, there was a public hanging of Teleshov, Novozhenov and Belyakov on March 28, 1942. The rest were shot.
Before he died Alexei Zhiltsov managed to get a letter through to his father. On the wall of the town dungeon was later found the inscription made by Alexander Belyakov.
April 3, 1942
Dear Vera, my darling, my own little dove,
My heart leaps with joy just to think you may get my letter, you and our boy and girl will see my writing and know I am alive and well.
We haven't seen or heard anything of each other for over nine months. Now, when I have a chance to send you a letter there's so much I want to tell you, so much....
What can I say to you? I remember, all my life I'll remember Kulagino where I saw you (July 15) when you were sick, with our newborn girl, where we parted so suddenly, without saying good-bye properly. But I knew you couldn't be angry at me, both as my wife and friend, since duty compelled me to stay in the district come what may. I can well imagine the whole horror of the situation in which I left you. Yet, as you know, there was nothing I could do to help. I consoled myself with the one thought that your suffering is all our people's suffering, that there are thousands of martyrs like you, that war is war.
But what is wonderful, my sweet, is that I haven't for one moment lost my confidence that you are alive, that you think about me, that you love me, as you did ten years ago, as you always loved me. Not for one minute have I lost faith in us seeing each other again, in being together again. And I still believe it now, as much as I believe in our victory over Hitler's bandits.
My darling, my little dove, we'll be together again. Just wait and see. Keep your spirits up. I shall live yet to hug and 58 kiss you all! I'm longing for that wonderful moment as much as I do for our country's complete liberation from the fascist scum. That moment is coming nearer. We are all sure of it, we Bolsheviks, partisans and all the people in our district.
Nine months in the nazi rear-how have I lived, where have I lived in this time? How have we fought against the German invaders? It cannot be described all in one letter.
No matter what I write to you it would still seem a trifle.
The first weeks and months of underground work were very grim. We have now about ten detachments in the district. I'm not exactly sure how many men we have in each detachment; in my lot there are over a hundred. They're a wonderful, select bunch.
I've been living in Fyodorovo, Ponizovye, Grishkovo, Petrishchevo and Bosino. I've had to spend my nights in the fields and woods. All autumn I was with a group of comrades in the woods. February I lived in a dug-out. Can't grumble about my health. I've probably never felt better. My stomach ulcer seems to have healed, cicatrised. However much I hid, the Dukhovshchina gang-those fascist creeps-soon nosed me out. They've been hunting me like a bear, but it hasn't got them anywhere. Only one...^^*^^ and several times we've led them a merry dance. The Germans' fate in Demidovo, Prechistoye and Dukhovshchina will be decided in a few days. For the moment though we are still behind the lines, surrounded by the foe, but they cannot do a thing about us. The partisans are like quicksilver. Right from the beginning things have been fine, marvellous. What's wonderful is that all the people round here are right behind us, assisting us and hating the nazis.
What more is there to tell you? When I was left in the district I combed the whole area far and wide. I roped in almost all Communists. I organised them in underground Party partisan groups. Now they have grown into partisan detachments. In one of these I am commissar....
A few of our good comrades fell into German hands and lost their lives. I, as you see, with some fifty local Communists have survived. Some of them have been with the partisans since autumn, others since winter.
_-_-_^^*^^ Text is rubbed out here in the paper's fold.
59Now Dukhovshchina is surrounded by partisan detachments. We've made short work of all nazi appointees. No one nazi-appointed administration body is now operating. For the time being the Germans are holing out like wolves in Dukhovshchina and a few other villages. In a number of villages we have already restored Soviet power. In the rest power [also] belongs to the partisans. My oh my, how the nazis are scared of the partisans...^^*^^ and I've easily escaped their clutches. Well, now I think they haven't got a chance.
My dear little dove, I must hurry. I haven't written even a fraction of what I wanted. Farewell.
Take care, bring up our son and little girl. I hope they are clever and good, I hope they grow up Bolsheviks. I hope they, and you as well, love our country.... And never lose faith in our deliverance from the enemy.
Many, many kisses to you all.
No matter what happens to me I'm sure you'll be brave and come through all the hardships and, at least, bring up our son Volodya and daughter Nelya. If only I could see them now. I can just imagine them. Remember how we used to go on a ramble with our little girl? I haven't got anything more to write on. Farewell... . Kisses. ...
Yours and yours alone,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Pyotr
Pyotr Tsuranov, second secretary of the Dukhovshchina District Party Committee, was in charge of underground work in the district. Under his leadership several underground groups were formed, followed by small partisan units. With one of the units he took to the woods neighbouring on Kasplyansky District. Here the partisan ranks were reinforced by soldiers left behind in the rear and also by the villagers.
Back in early September 1941, this unit had taken part in skirmishes with regular units of the 9th German Army, thereby rendering active assistance to the Soviet Army.
At the commencement to 1942, the unit had its base in the village of Grishkovo, and a couple of months later in Gorodnya. It was joined there by other partisan groups and detachments.
On March 25, 1942, a band of partisans headed by Pyotr Tsuranov waited in ambush near the village of Zakup to which a column of 300 _-_-_
^^*^^ Another omission due to erasure in the letter's fold.
60 German soldiers was heading. The partisans scattered the Germans who fled in panic leaving behind more than a hundred dead.
Pyotr wanted to tell his wife of the hazards of fighting behind the lines and the first thrills of their modest victories. This letter of April 3rd is their first contact since parting. Will it get through to her? Will his family know he is alive and well? Hardly having time to send the letter he rushed off again into the fray, this time in the village of Falisa held by police collecting taxes from the population. Tsuranov and his companions blasted the nazis from the village with hand grenades and eventually drove them out of Trofimenka and Voskresenskoye too. The clashes lasted two days.
In April and May, a number of districts around Smolensk were freed by the partisans and Soviet authority was restored. On May Day there was a meeting of the Dukhovshchina underground District Party Committee Bureau which discussed ways and means of getting the whole district back into Soviet hands. District Party Secretary Pyotr Tsuranov was responsible for this work throughout the district. The Bureau, jointly with the District Party Executive Committee and the Y.C.L. Committee, addressed the following appeal to the people:
``Soviet power has been restored and Soviet authority is now coming into its own on the territory of our district liberated from the nazis, i.e., in 10 village Soviets. But the battle against the foe certainly does not end here. Our victories have to be consolidated and taken further. We must do all we can to assist the Red Army and red partisans to smash the enemy and drive Hitler's hordes out of the Soviet Union.
``We shall win!''
On June 22, an anti-fascist meeting of people from all over the district took place. The resolution adopted by 500 delegates and signed by Pyotr Tsuranov ended with slogans: "Long live our Soviet homeland!" "Down with the fascist scum!''
In the summer of 1942, after a round of bitter fighting, the district was occupied for the second time. Pyotr was put in charge of the Burevestnik partisan unit and once more never gave himself any let-up in fearless raids on the nazis, organising underground operations, sabotage and raids.
In February 1943, the bold Communists' leader of Dukhovshchina made his last sortie.
[61] __ALPHA_LVL1__ LETTERS FROM YELENA UBIIVOVK,12--13 May, 1942
Dear Dad,
You are a man and must take everything that comes as a man. I have one chance in a hundred of getting out alive. Sergei isn't to blame-he's done all he could to save me.
I'm not writing in a scatter-brained mood. I've given it a lot of thought. As long as my breath holds out I shan't give up hope. But if I die, this is my last wish: mum, I know, won't get over my death, but you must live and get revenge whenever you can.
From here, from the very heart of fascism, I clearly see what this craven bestiality actually is.
I'm not afraid of death, but I want, if there is no other way out, to die by my own hand. That is why I appeal to all that you hold sacred, to your love for me-to bring me some opium today-we have some at home in a bottle, exactly the amount I need, no more no less, so as not to miss.
I know you'll do it for the love of me. Don't forget I'm not scatter-brained and won't do anything rash. Pour it into a phial and put it in a loaf. Better in a pot of soup, I can tip the soup out.
I'll do my duty-I shan't implicate any innocent people and, if need be, I'll die bravely.
But, to release me from my torturers, get it to me today, while you can still visit me, a fatal dose of opium or morphia -I realise you know best so be a good dad so that I don't have to surfer any more. By 5 o'clock I'll be taken down to the prison where you can see me.
62Let my friends know I'm confident my death will be avenged. Valya is a traitress, she split on me and Sergei. Sergei's a good lad. Don't forget to let them know all this.
My every word is my last wish and my mind will be at peace if I find you've done everything.
I still have hope, but my decision stands firm if all hope fades. Don't tell mum anything for the time being.
Love to you all from the bottom of my heart.
Greetings to friends~
__b_b_b__May 20, 1942
Greetings to you all at home,~
I cannot write much but want to send you all my best regards. I'm quite all right here. I get all the things you send in, except scent. If you want to send me something-scent or cigarettes-bring it to the prison where there's less control.
My chances of getting out of here are very, very slim. I shan't give up all hope of course, if I manage it I'll get out. But I shan't buy my life at the price of treachery. After all we only die once and life isn't all that is worthwhile these days, I see it very clearly here.
I'm very, very sorry I have to cause you so much worry. Believe you me, I've never forgotten you and never shall.
I get enough to eat with the food you send, but bread is short.... Why, dad, didn't you send what I asked? You know I've never done anything rash and never lose my head.
Now I feel alright and keep worrying only about you. Don't forget, Sergei is not in any way, not in the slightest, to blame -he did all he could and more even to save me. It's the circumstances that are to blame, they don't meet our wishes.
I suppose I made a stupid mistake in telling about the Y.C.L. Well, it can't be helped. Now, naturally, I'm looking for a way of getting out (except treachery). They treat me well, decently, better than the others. But that's nothing to goby.
Lots of love to you all. Love to Mum, Dad, Verochka, Glafira, Anyuta, Lelya and Igor.
63 __b_b_b__May 23, 1942
My dear ones,
I'm very sorry I have to grieve you so. And I'm very sorry you don't understand me at all. My life just couldn't be any different in these circumstances. So it's necessary for death to bring some kind of good. Remember the cost of ``repentance''? Futile humility blotting out the past, and it won't save lives anyway.
Dad, we were really together the whole day September 17. They're very crafty here. How could you, a grown man, be so trusting. You can give me away completely by being too trusting. They use the most subtle means of getting what they want. It wasn't out of humanism they let you see me. It's impossible to describe it. You have to be here and see it all to be convinced with your own eyes.
I have, and believe this, from what they say, a very small chance of getting out of here, and I'll do all I can to make use of it. And as far as treachery goes-that's another method they use. I've read Sergei's testimony-he didn't give me away, not by a single word.
By trying to cause trouble between us they aim at doing more damage. I signed the testimony. It's just as well I know a bit of German. What about those who don't? And you believe these people.... You shouldn't. I shall naturally try to keep alive. But if I don't succeed, you must get revenge for me. I'm not afraid to die-everyone has to die some time. But if I have to die, it's going to be the way the maximum good conies out of it. Just believe me and not them. I'm fighting for my life and know what I'm doing; it's easier for me here to see what to do than for you on the outside. I am no child and could have proved it to you.
Lots of love to all of you from the bottom of my heart.
Lyalya
__b_b_b__May 24--25, 1942
Dear Mum, Dad, Verochka and Glafira,
Today, tomorrow-I don't know when-they are going to shoot me because I cannot go against my conscience, because I am a Komsomol girl. I'm not afraid to die. I shall die calmly.
64I know full well that I cannot get out of here. Believe me I'm not writing in a hot-headed way. I'm quite cool and collected. Love and many kisses to you all for the last time. I'm not lonely and I feel a lot of love and concern around me. It's not so terrible to die.
Love to you all from the bottom of my heart.
Lyalya
__b_b_b__Yelena Ubiivovk was a Y.C.L. member and student at Kharkov University. The war found her in Poltava.
During the occupation of Poltava several young people's underground organisations were formed.
Yelena set up an underground group which started up with nine Y.C.L. members. Together with her companions she collected weapons and conducted anti-fascist propaganda among the townsmen. The underground workers managed to get in contact with a partisan unit under the command of Zharov who was operating in the woods. The Y.C.L.-ers began to regularly take down news from Moscow over the radio and put out leaflets on behalf of the partisans. In six months they had circulated over two thousand leaflets. The group grew to twenty.
The young patriots used to lend a hand to the p.o.w.s in a Poltava prison camp, supplying them with civilian clothing and food. They helped eighteen prisoners escape and get through to the partisans. The Y.C.L. group was preparing for a suitable moment to instigate an armed uprising in Poltava.
Due to too much trust in the townspeople, the group was uncovered. On May 6, 1942, the leading members were arrested and tortured.
Yelena Ubiivovk was interrogated twenty-six times. On May 26, before sunset, after bravely withstanding all kinds of torture Yelena Ubiivovk, Sergei Sapega, Boris Serga, Sergei Ilyevsky, Valentin Soroka and Leonid Puzanov were shot beyond the Poltava town cemetery. Before she died Yelena managed to get four letters smuggled out of the Gestapo dungeon to her parents.
__PRINTERS_P_65_COMMENT__ 5---3928 [65] __ALPHA_LVL1__ FROM THE DIARY OF IVAN MEDVEDOVSKY,End of May 1942
They crucified me like Jesus Christ. They beat me with sticks and ramrods, stuck needles into me.
May 3, 1942. Yesterday had a session with the S.D. Let go for now. Live in stinking conditions. No bread, potatoes, nothing. Beginning to swell. Bruises pain me, all the same want to live. Live for the future.
__b_b_b__When the Soviet Army retreated eastwards, underground groups were formed in the Zaporozhye Region. One such group was formed in the village of Chapayevka under the leadership of the local headmaster Ivan Medvedovsky, a Y.C.L. member. He conducted a campaign among the villagers and taught the young people how to combat the nazi invaders.
In May 1942, he was arrested for the fourth time by the Gestapo and shot.
Just before he met his end he got his last note through to his wife in which he expressed his profound faith in Soviet victory. "For all the vile deeds, the people of our country will pay the fascist swine back in full. The time is not far off when bloodthirsty Hilter and his gang will be wiped off the face of the earth.''
[66] __ALPHA_LVL1__ VOW BY JUNIOR SERGEANTI, son of my Homeland, brought up among the working people, vow to defend my Naval fortress on the Black SeaSevastopol-bravely and use my rifle to the best of ability.
I shall kill as many enemies as I can and part with my life as dearly as possible. After fighting off two enemy attacks we shall fight off the third too and completely rout them.
5.06.42. V. Azarov
__b_b_b__Vasily Azarov was born in 1919. He fell in action while fending off the third and most desperate nazi drive on Sevastopol in June 1942.
About this time the combat around Sevastopol had reached its climax. Endeavouring to quickly overrun the key Soviet naval base on the Black Sea, Hitler's High Command hurled 11 divisions-over 300,000 fighting men-against the port's defenders. Enemy forces were backed up by 400 tanks, 2,000 guns and more than 500 planes. Taking advantage of their overwhelming superiority, the nazis tore into the town from land and air.
Cut off from their land communications and having great difficulty in obtaining military supplies and provisions, the Soviet soldiers, sailors and townsmen accomplished wonders of gallantry and heroism.
The defence of Sevastopol was of immense military and political significance. By diverting a vast number of German and Rumanian troops, the defenders foiled the German High Command's plans. Through their astonishing grit and fortitude, the Sevastopol men gave the enemy far more than he expected and dealt shattering blows to his manpower and armaments.
Defence of the port lasted for 250 heroic days, of which every one bore its own tale of valour. Few came out alive. But their names are forever inscribed on the roll of the war's bravest defenders.
The courageous words written by Vasily Azarov show the indomitable spirit of the Soviet fighters for the fortress of the Black Sea.
__PRINTERS_P_67_COMMENT__ 5* 67 __ALPHA_LVL1__ LETTERSMy dear Mum, Dad and brothers,
I am now in prison. The charges appear to be very seriousit looks like the end of the road. There we are. Can't do anything about it. I'm not the first and probably shan't be the last.... So I beg you not to take it too badly. I love you all, dearest mum and dad, my wife, little girl, and I love my country. If this letter ever gets through to my family, I hope it will remind you of the last days of my life. Survived at the front but not at home. Fair enough, but I don't want any of my family to grieve over it....
Today was the first interrogation. The next is on Monday, 11/5, when they'll give me the works. I only fear that my arrest will make things hard for you. That's all for today. If I get the chance I'll write some more. Good-bye for now, love to all.
Yours,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Vanya
May 9, 1942
My dear ones,
Writing you in my last hour. Looks like I'll have my lot from a bullet.
Mum, Dad, Valya, Tonya, Lida, Nina, Zhenya, Volodya, Arkady, Sasha-if I've ever been unfair to any of you please 68 forgive me. My dear ones, look after yourselves and don't ever quarrel.
Dad, look after Tonya and Sasha. Greetings in my last hour to all at home and all the folks I know.
Borodin Timofei
20-VI-42.
In the second half of August 1941, the Gomel Region of Byelorussia was occupied by the Cjrmans. By autumn an underground Party and Y.C.L. organisation was in full swing. It was headed by Communist Roman Timofeyenko and Y.C.L. members Timofei Borodin and Ivan Shilov.
Timofei Borodin had been working in a printer's. After the Germans had entered the town he went underground.
Ivan Shilov served in the Soviet Army. Soon after the outbreak of war he had been caught in a German ring, but managed to get back 69 to his native Gomel where he, too, joined the underground Being an expert at German he disguised himself as a German officer and operated within the nazi ranks
One had to have an ineradicable faith in victory to be able to scorn death and boldly take on such a dangerous task right under the enemy s nose
The underground fighters riddled the occupational machine and together with the partisans disrupted the invaders' economic, political and administrative measures, thereby bowing uncertainty and fear in the enemy ranks.
At the commencement to 1942, members of the underground turned their attention on the town's industrial works They blew up workshops m the engineering plant where the Germans repaired their tanks, wrecked the locomotive works and knocked out several train loads of arms and ammunition
On the territory of Gomel Region the best sons and daughters of the Byelorussian people took up arms in dogged partisan combat against the occupational forces The partisans worked in close con tact with the town's underground Fighters inside the town got their hands on medical supplies and passed them on to the partisans They also kept them supplied with arms, ammunition and explosives
In May 1942, the two Y C L members Timofei Borodin and Ivan Shilov were given away and arrested
Horrible tortures began To no avail The Gestapo piomised them their lives if they were to name their fellow underground fighters and tell where to locate the partisan detachments Again to no avail The patriots would not split on their comrades On June 20, Timofei Borodin and Ivan Shilov were shot One hour before he died Timofei Borodin wrote his last note in big letters on his blood-stained hand kerchief
[70] __ALPHA_LVL1__ NOTE AND VOWNot later than July 23, 1942
I swear to you, Vera, that I, a son of the people, will pound the enemy to my last gasp, to my last drop of blood. My love for you has remained and multiplied many times.
__b_b_b__Vladimir Pankevich spared no effort to keep communications going for the forward sections of his unit, even though he constantly had to run a gauntlet of withering fire. When it came to furious battle for the villages of Solnechnogorsk, Volokolamsk and others, he was a brave example to others. He was struck down in the fighting for the village of Bykovo In his pocket they found a photo and this unsent note to his girl friend Vera.
[71] __ALPHA_LVL1__ LETTERDear Mum and Dad,
I'm writing you my last note. 27-VII-42. That makes exactly a month from the day they passed sentence. My time is running out, and perhaps I won't live till next letter. I don't expect any mercy. These rats know full well who I am (thanks to the swine who gave me away). At the inquest I kept pretty cool. I refused to answer. They took me away for beatings. Three times they took me and beat me up for about four to five hours. At half past three they stopped beating me. In that time I lost consciousness three times and once I made as if I had fainted. They beat me with a rubber hose, braided with a thin wire. Then with a wooden stick, about five feet long. Iron rods on my arms-----After that battering I still have the scars on my legs and higher up. Now I can't hear very well.
The rest of the boys in my group needn't worry. No torture could tear their names from me. I led the boys on the job. I gathered information. I was going to blow up a house where the Gerries were (a new building next to the Red Army House). But the old geezer putting me up got the wind up. He knew if I'd got hold of the bloke that gave me away I would have throttled him. I'd already done one bloke in. Shame I didn't have enough time. ...
I reckoned on escaping. But a couple of days ago some criminals here were going to make a break and they were 72 found out. Now there's no chance of getting out and there's not much time left. Keep your end up. Sasha Khoroshenko swore he wouldn't leave you in the lurch if anything happened to me. You can bet your boots he'll be out. He has time and he'll pick his moment to make a break. Our cause will win all the same. The Soviets will mop up the Gerries and cornchewing ``liberators'' this winter. They'll get it back a thousand times worse for the blood of the partisans shot by these bastards. I'm just sorry I won't be able to help my companions when the time comes.
See if you can get hold of my documents. They're buried in the shed. About a foot down under the first board from the whetstone. There you'll find photos of my pals and companions and my Y.C.L. card. The sigurantsa couldn't get it out of me that I'm in the Y.C.L.
There's a photo of Vova F., please take it to 7 Lutheransky Lane, to Nina Georgievna. Take it to her and tell her to make a copy, and take the photo back. Maybe you'll meet him one day. My letters are also there. And a box too. You can open it. There is a vow inside, a vow of eternal friendship and solidarity to each other. But we found ourselves all over the place. I'm condemned to be shot. Vova, Misha and Abrasha have been evacuated. They were wonderful chaps though. Maybe you'll come across some of them.
Good-bye Mum and Dad. Get well soon, Dad. That's what I want. Just ask you not to forget us and to get your own back on the rats who gave us away. Give my regards to Lena.
Lots of love to you all. Don't lose heart. Keep your ends up. Best wishes to all the family. Victory will be ours!
27.VII.42.
Yasha
__b_b_b__During the heroic days of the Odessa defence in August 1941, a stocky figure turned up in Captain Molodtsov's "flying detachment''. He was given a signaller's job. It was sixteen-year-old Yasha Gordienko. The young lad dreamed of great feats and burned to get hold of a gun to defend his home town from the nazi invaders. But the soldiers kept him in check. Son of a Black Sea sailor, he had only just finished school before war broke out. Who would have thought then that a few months later he was to be a victim of the nazi murderers?
73On October 16, 1941, after 73 days of defence, the Soviet troops had to withdraw from Odessa As the last Soviet ship put out of the port, the Rumanian and German troops marched into the town
Captain Vladimir Molodtsov, known then as Badayev, and a group of underground fighters took to the Odessa catacombs. Yasha Gordienko joined Captain Molodtsov's band and acted as a scout He collected information on the nazis' movements, distributed leaflets and carried on political work among the townspeople. The brave boy often had a hand in the operations-blowing up railway lines, i aiding enemy lorries, cutting telephone wires, etc
Once, due to his initiative and courage, Yasha Gordienko succeeded in rescuing some 50 prisoners
Yasha was caught in June 1942 at a secret address in Odessa After taking a traitor in for questioning, agents of the Rumanian political police (sigurantsa) learned the secret addresses of the underground members. It had taken the nazis a long time to catch up with the legendary Badayev. But one evening, when Yasha Gordienko and his commander Badayev were unsuspectingly leaving their hidmgplace, the police pounced Nothing could break their will. The young boy stood up to the torture just as bravely as the experienced Communist Vladimir Molodtsov. They were condemned to death and shot in late July 1942 Yakov Gordienko was posthumously awarded the Order of Lenin and the Partisan of the Patriotic War medal, First Class
Realising that he was to die in a couple of days, Yasha wrote his last letter home on half a dozen cigarette papers which his cell companions managed to smuggle out to the address indicated
[74] __ALPHA_LVL1__ LETTERJuly 1942
Darling Talyushka,
It's hard to begin with common words. When you receive this letter I shall no longer be alive But there we are, we have to take what comes in life.
Life! The word has such a proud ring. It contains grief and good cheer, suffering and bliss. I'm not going to say life's all the same to me. Not at all, it means a lot. And it's darn hard to lose it.
Youth! What can be dearer than that? I'm not one of the "Dismal Desmonds bearing death with a tirade of curses''. No one should play with life Not to say we shouldn't be afraid of danger. The boys on shore don't have to run so many risks. But I, like so many of my companions, plumped for the sea where there's a greater element of danger and risk. Here a person can really extend himself to the full and do most good. More simply, it was an urge to throw in all I have.
Life can be just a round of daily vegetation like a dumb animal, and life can be free and easy, with wonderful things to look forward to. All of us strive to sling our hammock onto the latter. Our generation has been entrusted with a great and responsible task: to shed our blood and lay down our lives to earn the right to happiness.
I remember when I was a lad at school. My first timid steps when I took my school certificate. The first test-1938--39--- 75 in a prison camp in Spain. That's where I was jolted out of part of the benevolence and habit of seeing everything in a rosy hue, which every young lad and lass does. It was a good lesson in the attempt to understand life. There in Spain I got a fair idea of what we were up against. As a result I decided to devote my whole life to the armed forces, to become an officer. Now you are getting a taste of hatred. It came to me in those days.
Calm and peaceful 1940. A year of stupendous plans for the future. Then came the war. Everyone was faced with the problem of finding his feet and being a worthy son of his country. The old feeling of hatred, the invasion of my beloved Ukraine, losing my father, mother and brother, the realisation that the fight was universal and there was no relying on anyone, aided me right from those early days to decide where I stood and what I was going to do. War came as a test, it put the finishing touches to my character. I gave it all I had. And I can honestly say that nobody can reproach me for any action unworthy of an officer and a Communist.
We were forced to see life in the raw, cruelly and in a much shorter time than age usually allows, but life will be all the dearer to us. Once you know how dear life really is, you don't treat it so lightly as the days go by. I know and am confident that if I'd have got out of this mess in one piece we'd have been so happy together.... We live at a time when, before we can lay claim to that happiness, we have to win it in stubborn combat and do our own little bit for the common cause. It makes no difference whether it will be the skill, blood or life. There is no other way.
Remember me now and again as the man who loved you and would lay down his life for his Talyushka without a thought. And that's how it really is. In every common cause there's a part of every man. And for what I gave my part is your cause too. I believed in your love knowing it was crystal clear. It's so wonderful to think of all the times we've had together....
I know it won't be easy for you to get over the idea of losing your Zhenya. But please dear, don't make any foolish pledges. Try to bury all the grief quickly. Try and make your life happy. I'd like to think that in a little while you will forget it all or at least get over it and be happy again. To every man his own fate. There's no getting away from it. 76 I'd like to say a word of gratitude to your mother, father and little Zoya. They really have looked on me as a son. I wish them a long and happy carefree life. I hope your parents and Zoya will one day have some grandchildren, sons and nieces to nurse and make a fuss of.
One request to you. Once war is over and life gets back to normal try and find my young brother if you can. If he's alive, the country will look after him. He should be a big lad now. Tell him about his Zhenya. Put him on the right lines. His name is Alexander, born in 1930 and left behind in Kherson. I comfort myself that you'll find him. Don't think this is some kind of last wish or an order to look after him. I don't want to burden you with a load of trouble. In our country they look after children and make men out of them. I'm sending you the certificate of my award. Let it be a little souvenir. I don't have anything else.
That's about all. There's so much I want to say, I want to find some tender words to express my feelings. But you know your Zhenya well enough and you understand, don't you, without me writing it down.
Keep your pecker up, look after yourself and put your best foot forward. Be a clever little girl. Don't take it too much to heart. It doesn't help much, you know. Try to make a happy life for yourself and live it for both of us.
Remember your Zhenya now and again, but without any tears and with the thought that he didn't die in vain.
Keep your spirits up,
I love you,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Yevgeny
At the outbreak of war, Senior Lieutenant Yevgeny Chervonny was in Tallinn. In the grim August days of 1941, the torpedo boat on which he served joined up with Soviet ships of the Baltic Fleet leaving Tallinn harbour for Kronstadt. This was a gallant feat of seamanship by the Baltic sailors. Under incessant bombardment, the ships made their way through mine-infested waters to their main base. For his personal bravery and the courageous actions of his crew Yevgeny Chervonny was awarded the Order of the Red Banner.
Yevgeny hated fascism. He had already seen the hate-twisted faces of the bearers of the "New Order''. Of a dark August night when there was a lull in the fighting, Yevgeny would look back a few years to 1938 when, a sea cadet at the Kherson Naval School, he had done 77 his navigator's training on the Skvortsov-Stcpanov, a motor-ship which had been forcibly taken in tow by Franco's men. By starvation and threats. Franco's henchmen had tried to make the Soviet seamen betray their country. They were thrown into slinking holes and left without a drop of water. But most of them came through all these trials. Yevgeny Chervonny returned from prison a sick man He had contracted T.B. Once home he was cured and became a hardened fighter against fascism. Then came the war. The young officer swore to tight the nazis to his last drop of blood, and to win. These are the selfless and stern lines written by the captain of a section of the 2nd L.roup of the patrol boats: "He shot down two planes personally. Took part in six mine-laying runs. Had no losses. For 20 days his vessel and a gun-boat supported a section of the coastal army with all its fire Took part in three ice runs to Khanko. Saved 400 men. "
One July day in 1942, Senior Lieutenant Chervonny put to sea It was an operation with practically no chance of coming back alive Yevgeny knew what he was about. Before putting to sea he wrote his last letter. . . .
His comrades later picked up his body among the debris of the boat that had hit a mine. Yevgeny Chervonny made his final run to Kronstadt wrapped in a naval flag.
In a small yellow case containing his personal effects his comrades found this letter addressed to his wife.
August 15, 1942
To my people.
In my service to the Soviet people I'll fight to the last drop of blood for the honour, freedom and independence of Soviet land. I remain true to my war-pledge which I made to my people. To the last minute of my life I count myself a true son of my country.
Forward,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ For our country.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Lieutenant Dzotov
Lazar Dzotov, from the North Ossetian village of Dur-Dur, led two platoons of submachine-gunners across a river on the outskirts of Voronezh and silenced enemy gun posts which had prevented Soviet units from making a crossing. This was on August 15, 1942. After being mortally wounded in the battle, he scribbled his last wish down on a piece of paper and passed it on to his comrades.
[79] __ALPHA_LVL1__ LETTERNot later than August 20, 1942
Darling, my love,
Yesterday we finally contacted the enemy. Today we'll soon move into the attack.
This is the set-up: artillery and mortars are thundering away, our bombers have just gone over and given Fritz hell.
We are very close to the Germans. All the time nazi mortar shells rend the air and bullets whistle overhead. We're all in good spirits. I'm not the least bit scared, nervous or unsure of myself. Instead, I have a burning love for our country, an urge to do all I can to defend her, my dear ones, from these 20th-century Huns. Get revenge on them for all the misery and suffering they've caused our people, get revenge on them for our beloved Leningrad.
There's a lot more I could write but not much time left.
All my love and kisses to you,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Goga
A war correspondent came upon a tank unit in early August 1942 and got into conversation with the men. Soldiers wanted to recount the battle deeds of their comrades, how life was at the front. There and then the correspondent heard about Lieutenant Landau's letter.
``We used to call him Goga,'' the tank-men recalled. "He was a fantastically courageous and daring officer. His tank crew were always in front.
``This is his last letter. It was written just before the battle. Goga didn't come back, he died a hero's death. . . .''
80 __ALPHA_LVL1__ NOTEAugust 23, 1942
Today, August 23, we're pounding into the nazi rats. If they kill me, let my country know I died heroically for Stalingrad. I am a candidate to the Party, but please consider me a Party member. Let my country know I died for the cause of the Party.
__b_b_b__In July 1942, the nazi forces pushed through to the Volga. Then commenced a battle unprecedented in the history of war, lasting 200 days and nights and culminating in a glorious triumph for the Soviet people.
First into battle and last out were the Communists and Y.C.L. members. The best officers and men joined the Party in those grim days and took t