This is a touching and tragic date for every family of our great people.
Cruel and terrible events, in which our grandfathers and great-grandfathers participated, go far into history.
Soldier fights on the battlefield. In the rear, they spared no effort, worked for the Great Victory, both old and young.
And how many children stood up to defend their homeland on an equal basis with adults? What feats did they perform?
Tell and read stories, stories, books for children about the Great Patriotic War of 1941-1945.
Our descendants should know who protected them from fascism. Know the truth about a terrible war.
On MAY 9, visit a monument or monument in your city, lay flowers. It will be touching if you and your child mark the event with a moment of silence.
Pay attention to the awards of war veterans, who become less and less every year. With all my heart, congratulate the veterans on the Great Victory Day.
It is important to remember that each of their gray hairs stores all the horror and wounds of this terrible war.
Asecond: Ilgiz Garayev
I was born and raised on peaceful land. I know very well how spring thunderstorms rustle, but I have never heard gun thunder.
I see how new houses are being built, but I did not suspect how easily houses are destroyed under a hail of bombs and shells.
I know how dreams end, but it’s hard for me to believe that interrupting a human life is as easy as a cheerful morning dream.
Fascist Germany, violating the non-aggression pact, invaded the territory of the Soviet Union.
And in order not to end up in fascist slavery, for the sake of saving the Motherland, the people engaged in a battle, in a deadly battle with an insidious, cruel and merciless enemy.
Then the Great Patriotic War began for the honor and independence of our Motherland.
Millions of people have risen to defend the country.
In the war, infantrymen and artillerymen fought and won, tankmen and pilots, sailors and signalmen - warriors of many, many military specialties, entire regiments, divisions of ships were awarded military orders for the heroism of their soldiers, and received honorary names.
When the flames of war raged, together with all the Soviet people, they rose to the defense of the Motherland of the city and the village, hamlet and aul. Anger and hatred of the vile enemy, an indomitable desire to do everything to defeat him filled the hearts of people.
Every day of World War II at the front and in the rear is a feat of unlimited courage and steadfastness of Soviet people, loyalty to the motherland.
“Everything for the front, everything for the Victory!”
In the harsh days of the war, children stood next to adults. Schoolchildren earned money for the defense fund, collected warm clothes for front-line soldiers, were on duty on the roofs of houses during air raids, performed concerts in front of wounded soldiers in hospitals. Nazi barbarians destroyed and burned 1,710 cities and more than 70 thousand villages and villages, destroyed 84 thousand schools, deprived of shelter 25 million people.
The concentration camps of death became an ominous symbol of the beastly appearance of fascism.
56 thousand people were killed in Buchenwald, 70 thousand in Dachau, more than 122 thousand in Mauthausen, about 1 million 500 thousand people were killed in Majdanek, more than 4 million people died in Auschwitz.
If the memory of every victim in World War II was honored with a moment of silence, it would take 38 years.
The enemy spared neither women nor children.
May Day 1945. Familiar and unfamiliar people hugged each other, gave flowers, sang and danced right on the streets. It seemed that for the first time millions of adults and children looked up to the sun, for the first time enjoying the colors, sounds, smells of life!
It was a common holiday for all our people, all of humanity. It was a celebration of every person. Because victory over fascism signified victory over death, reason over madness, happiness over suffering.
In almost every family, someone died, went missing, died of wounds.
Every year, events of the Great Patriotic War go farther into the depths of history. But for those who fought, who drank the full bitterness and bitterness of retreat, and the joy of our great victories, these events will never be erased from memory, forever remain alive and close. It seemed that to survive in the midst of heavy fire, not to lose one's mind at the sight of the death of thousands of people and monstrous destruction was simply impossible.
But the strength of the human spirit turned out to be stronger than metal and fire.
That is why with such deepest respect and admiration, we look at those who went through the hell of war and retained the best human qualities - kindness, compassion and mercy.
Already 66 years have passed since Victory Day. But we did not forget about those 1,418 days and nights that the Great Patriotic War went on.
Almost 26 million lives of Soviet people she claimed. Our long-suffering land has been washed by streams of blood and tears over these endlessly long four years. And if we were to put together the bitter maternal tears shed over the dead sons, a sea of \u200b\u200bSorrow would form, and would flow from it to all corners of the planet of the River of Suffering.
We, the modern generation, cherish the future of the planet. Our task is to save the world, to fight so that people are not killed, shots do not rattle, human blood does not pour.
The sky should be blue, the sun bright, warm, kind and gentle, the life of people safe and happy.
This was before the war with the Nazis.
Kate Izvekova parents gave a new dress. Dress elegant, silk, weekend.
Katya did not have time to update the present. War broke out. It remains to hang the dress in the closet. Katya thought: the war will end, so she will put on her dress for the weekend.
Fascist aircraft constantly bombed Sevastopol from the air.
Under the ground, the rocks went to Sevastopol.
Military warehouses, headquarters, schools, kindergartens, hospitals, repair shops, even a movie theater, even hairdressers - all this crashed into stones, into the mountains.
Underground organized by Sevastopol and two military factories.
Katya Izvekova began working on one of them. The plant produced mortars, mines, and grenades. Then he began to master the production of aircraft bombs for Sevastopol pilots.
Everything was found in Sevastopol for such a production: explosives and metal for the body, even fuses were found. There is only one. Gunpowder, with which bombs were detonated, was supposed to fall asleep in bags made of natural silk.
They began to look for silk for bags. We turned to various warehouses.
On one:
There is no natural silk.
On the second:
There is no natural silk.
We went to the third, fourth, fifth.
There is no real silk anywhere.
And suddenly ... Katya is. Ask Katie:
Well - found?
Found it, ”Katya answers.
True, in the hands of the girl bundles.
Kathin rolled up a bundle. They look: in a bundle - a dress. The same thing. Day off. Made from natural silk.
That's Katya!
Thanks, Kate!
Cut at the Katino factory dress. Sewed the bags. Powder fell asleep. Put bags in bombs. They sent bombs to the pilots at the airport.
Following Katya and other workers, they brought their weekend dresses to the factory. There are now no interruptions in the work of the plant. A bomb is ready for the bomb.
Pilots rise to the sky. Like bombs hit the target.
The fighting in Stalingrad does not subside. The fascists are torn to the Volga.
Some fascist angered Sergeant Noskov. Our trenches and the Nazis passed nearby. Speech is heard from the trench to the trench.
The fascist sits in his hiding place, shouting:
Rus, tomorrow, bul-bul!
That is, he wants to say that tomorrow the Nazis will break through to the Volga, throw the defenders of Stalingrad into the Volga.
Rus, tomorrow bul-bul. - And clarifies: - Bul-bul at Volga.
This "bul-bul" acts on the nerves of Sergeant Noskov.
Others are calm. Some of the soldiers even chuckle. And Socks:
Wow, damn Fritz! Yes, show yourself. Let me take a look at you.
Hitler just leaned out. Socks looked, other soldiers looked. Reddish. Disputed. Ears are upright. The pilot on the crown keeps miraculously.
The fascist leaned out again:
Bul-bul!
One of our soldiers grabbed a rifle. He threw it up, took aim.
Do not touch! - strictly said Noskov.
The soldier looked at Noskov in surprise. Shrugged. He took the rifle.
Until the evening, a big-eared German croaked: “Rus, tomorrow bul-bul. Tomorrow at Volga. "
By evening, the Nazi soldier fell silent.
"Fell asleep," - understood in our trenches. Gradually, our soldiers began to doze. Suddenly they see, someone began to crawl out of the trench. Watching - Sergeant Socks. And after him, his best friend, Private Turyanchik. Friends-friends got out of the trench, snuggled to the ground, crawled to the German trench.
The soldiers woke up. Perplexed. Why is it that Noskov and Turyanchik went to visit the fascists? The soldiers look westward, they break their eyes in the dark. The soldiers began to worry.
But someone said:
Brothers, crawl back.
The second confirmed:
That's right, come back.
The soldiers peered - right. Crawling, clinging to the ground, friends. Only not two of them. Three. The fighters took a closer look: the third Nazi soldier, the very same - "bul-bul." Only he does not creep. Drag his Socks and Turyanchik. Gag in a soldier’s mouth.
The friends of the screamer were dragged into the trench. We rested and continued to headquarters.
However, the road fled to the Volga. They grabbed the fascist's hands, his neck, dipped him into the Volga.
Bul-Bul, Bul-Bul! - shouts mischievously Turyanchik.
Bull-bull, - the fascist lets out bubbles. Shakes like an aspen leaf.
Do not be afraid, do not be afraid, said Noskov. - Russian does not beat the speed bump.
Soldiers of the prisoner were handed over to the headquarters.
He waved goodbye to the fascist Noskov hand.
Bul-bul, - said goodbye, Turyanchik.
The assignment was unusual. It was called special. Colonel Gorpishchenko, the commander of the marines, said:
The task is unusual. Special. - Then he asked again: - I see?
I see, Comrade Colonel, ”answered the foreman, an infantryman, the senior over a group of intelligence officers.
He was called to the colonel alone. He returned to his comrades. I chose to help two, said:
Get ready. The task was special to us.
However, what a special, while the foreman did not speak.
It was a new year, 1942. It is clear to scouts: on such and such a night, of course, the task is super-special. Scouts are coming for the foreman, talking:
Maybe a raid on the fascist headquarters?
Take it higher, - the foreman smiles.
Maybe we’ll seize the captive of the general?
Higher, higher, ”the elder laughs.
Scouts crossed at night on the territory occupied by the Nazis, advanced inland. Go carefully, sneak.
Scouts again:
Maybe we’re going to blow up the bridge, like partisans?
Maybe at the fascist airport we’ll make a diversion?
Look at the elder. Smiling senior.
Night. Darkness. Silence. Deafness. Scouts are marching behind the fascist rear. Descended from the steep. We climbed the mountain. Entered into the pine forest. Crimean pine trees clung to stones. It smelled pleasantly of needles. The soldiers remembered their childhood.
The foreman approached one of the pines. He walked around, looked, even felt the branches with his hand.
Is it good
Good, ”the scouts say.
I saw another nearby.
This one is better?
It seems better, ”the scouts nodded.
Fluffy?
Fluffy.
Slim?
Slim!
Well, to the point, said the foreman. He took out an ax and cut down a pine. “That's all,” said the foreman. He put the pine on his shoulders. - So we coped with the task.
Here they are, ”escaped the scouts.
The next day, the scouts were released into the city, on a Christmas tree to the children in the preschool underground garden.
It was a pine. Slim. Fluffy. Balls hang on a pine, garlands, multi-colored lanterns burn.
You may ask: why is it a pine tree, not a Christmas tree? Christmas trees do not grow in those latitudes. And in order to get a pine, it was necessary to get to the rear in the rear of the Nazis.
Not only here, but also in other places of Sevastopol, New Year trees were lit in that difficult year for children.
Looks like, not only in the brigade of marines at Colonel Gorpishchenko, but also in other parts, the task for scouts on that New Year's Eve was special.
It was not long before the Battle of Kursk. Replenishment arrived at the rifle unit.
The foreman bypassed the fighters. Walks along the line. Nearby is a corporal. Holds a pencil and notebook in his hands.
The foreman glanced at the first of the fighters:
Can you plant potatoes?
The fighter was embarrassed, shrugged.
Can you plant potatoes?
I can! - the soldier said loudly.
Two steps forward.
The soldier went out of order.
Write to the gardeners, ”the foreman said to the corporal.
Can you plant potatoes?
I have not tried it.
Not necessary, but if necessary ...
Enough, ”said the foreman.
Fighters came forward. He was in the ranks of the able and soldier Anatoly Skurko. Guards soldier Skurko: where is it they who know how? “To plant a potato - so late in time. (Summer has already begun to play with might and main.) If you dig it, then it’s very early in time. ”
Guards soldier Skurko. And other fighters wonder:
Plant a potato?
Sow a carrot?
Cucumbers for the staff cafeteria?
The foreman looked at the soldier.
Well, ”said the foreman. “From now on, you will be in the miners,” and hands the mines to the soldiers.
The dashing elder noticed that he who knows how to plant potatoes puts mines faster and more reliably.
The soldier Skurko grinned. Other soldiers did not hold back smiles.
The gardeners set to work. Of course, not immediately, not at the same moment. Landing mines is not such a simple matter. A special training was held by the soldiers.
For many kilometers to the north, south, west of Kursk, miners stretched minefields and barriers. On the first day of the Battle of Kursk, over a hundred fascist tanks and self-propelled guns were blown up on these fields and barriers.
The miners are coming.
Well, gardeners?
Complete in everything.
Shy of a soldier of his last name. Unlucky at birth. Trusov is his last name.
Time of war. The surname is catchy.
Already at the military registration and enlistment office, when a soldier was drafted into the army, the first question was:
Surname?
Cowards.
How how?
Cowards.
Y-yes ... - the workers of the draft board extended.
Hit the fighter in the company.
What is your last name?
Private cowards.
How how?
Private cowards.
Y-yes ... - the commander said.
Many troubles from the surname took the soldier. Around jokes and jokes:
Looks like your ancestor was not in heroes.
In a convoy with such a name!
They will bring field mail. The soldiers will gather in a circle. There is a distribution of arrived letters. Names are called:
Kozlov! Sizov! Smirnov!
Everything is fine. Soldiers come up, take their letters.
Shouted out:
Cowards!
Soldiers are laughing around.
Something like a surname does not fit with wartime. Woe to the soldier with this last name.
As part of his 149th separate rifle brigade, Private Trusov arrived at Stalingrad. Fighters were transported across the Volga to the right bank. The brigade entered the battle.
Well, Trusov, let’s see which of you is a soldier, ”the squad leader said.
I don’t want Trusov to disgrace. Trying to. Soldiers go on the attack. Suddenly, an enemy machine gun was pointed up from the left. Trusov turned around. From the machine gave a turn. The enemy machine gun was silent.
Well done! - the squad leader praised the fighter.
The soldiers ran a few more steps. Again hits the machine gun.
Now to the right. Cowards turned. He crept up to the machine gunner. Threw a grenade. And this fascist has subsided.
Hero! - said the squad leader.
The soldiers lay down. They are shooting with the Nazis. The battle is over. Counted soldiers killed enemies. Twenty people were at the spot where Private Trusov fired.
Ohhh! - escaped from the squad leader. “Well, brother, your evil name.” Wicked!
Smiled Cowards.
For courage and decisiveness in the battle, Private Trusov was awarded a medal.
A medal “For Courage” hangs on the hero’s chest. Whoever meets - squint at the award.
The first question for the soldier is now:
What is awarded, hero?
No one will ask again the last name. Nobody giggles now. With malice, the word will not leave.
From now on, it’s clear to the fighter: it’s not a soldier’s honor in the surname - a person’s affairs are painted.
Mokapka Zyablov was amazed. Something strange was happening at their station. There lived a boy with grandfather and grandmother near the town of Sugi in a small working village at the Lokinskaya station. He was the son of a hereditary railroad worker.
Liked Mokapka for hours spinning around the station. Especially these days. Echelons come here one by one. Drive up military equipment. Mokapka knows that our troops near Kursk beat the fascists. Drive enemies west. Though small, but with the mind of Mokapka, he sees - trains come here. Understands: it means that here, in these places, a further offensive is planned.
Echelons are coming, steam trains are chugging. Unload soldiers military cargo.
Mokapka was spinning somehow next to the tracks. Sees: a new train has arrived. Tanks stand on platforms. Many. The boy began to consider tanks. Looked closely - and they are wooden. How to fight on them ?!
The boy rushed to the grandmother.
Wooden, - whispers, - tanks.
Really? - Grandma threw up her hands. He rushed to his grandfather:
Wooden, grandfather, tanks. He raised his old eyes to his grandson. The boy rushed to the station. Looks: the train is coming again. The composition stopped. Mokapka looked - the guns are on the platforms. Many. No less than there were tanks.
Mokapka took a closer look - after all, the guns, too, were wooden! Instead of trunks - round logs stick out.
The boy rushed to the grandmother.
Wooden, - whispers, - guns.
Really? .. - the grandmother threw up her hands. He rushed to his grandfather:
Wooden, grandfather, guns.
Something new, said the grandfather.
A lot of strange things were happening then at the station. Somehow, boxes of shells arrived. Mountains have grown these boxes. Satisfied Mocapka:
It’s great they will sprinkle our fascists!
And suddenly he finds out: empty boxes at the station. “Why such and such whole mountains ?!” the boy wonders.
And here is a completely incomprehensible one. The troops come here. Many. The column hurries after the column. They go openly, come before daylight.
Light character in the boy. Immediately met the soldiers. Dotemna was spinning nearby. In the morning he runs to the soldiers again. And then he finds out: the soldiers left these places at night.
Mokapka is standing, wondering again.
Mokapok did not know that they had used a military trick under Suge.
Fascists are conducting reconnaissance from planes behind the Soviet troops. They see: trains arrive at the station, bring tanks, bring guns.
Fascists and mountains of boxes of shells notice. They note that the troops are moving here. Many. Behind the column is a column. The Nazis see how the troops approach, and the enemies do not know about the fact that they go quietly from here at night.
It is clear to the Nazis: this is where the new Russian offensive is being prepared! Here, under the city of Sujah. They pulled under Suju troops, in other areas of their forces weakened. Just pulled it off - and then a blow! However, not by Sujah. In another place, ours were hit. Once again they defeated the Nazis. And soon they were completely defeated in the Battle of Kursk.
Free fields near Vyazma. Hills run to the sky.
Words from were not ejected. Under the city of Vyazma, a large group of Soviet troops were surrounded by the enemy. Fascists are happy.
Hitler himself, the leader of the Nazis, calls to the front:
Surrounded by?
That's right, our Fuhrer, ”the fascist generals report.
Stacked up a weapon?
The generals are silent.
Stacked up a weapon?
Here is a bold one found.
Not. I dare to report, my Fuhrer ... - The General wanted to say something.
However, Hitler was distracted by something. In short, the speech was interrupted.
For several days now, being surrounded, Soviet soldiers have been fighting stubbornly. They fettered the Nazis. The fascist offensive is frustrated. Enemies stuck near Vyazma.
Hitler calls again from Berlin:
Surrounded by?
So for sure, our Fuhrer, ”the fascist generals report.
Stacked up a weapon?
The generals are silent.
Stacked up a weapon?
Terrible scolding rushed from the tube.
I dare to report, my Fuhrer, ”the bold one is trying to say something. - Our Frederick the Great also said ...
Days go by again. Fighting near Vyazma does not cease. Enemies stuck, stuck near Vyazma.
Knits them Vyazma, knits. I took by the throat with my hand!
In the wrath of the great Fuhrer. Again a call from Berlin.
Stacked up a weapon?
The generals are silent.
They laid down their arms ?!
No, - the bold is responsible for all.
Again a stream of bad words spattered. The membrane danced in the tube.
Silent the general. I waited. I caught a moment:
I dare to report, my Fuhrer, our great, our wise King Frederick, also said ...
Listens to Hitler:
Well, so what did our Friedrich say?
Frederick the Great said, ”the general repeated,“ Russians need to be shot twice. ” And then another push, my Fuhrer, so that they fall.
The Fuhrer muttered something slurred into the receiver. The Berlin wire disconnected.
For a week near Vyazma fights did not abate. The week was invaluable for Moscow. During these days, the defenders of Moscow managed to gather strength and prepared convenient lines for defense.
Free fields near Vyazma. Hills run to the sky. Here in the fields, on the hills near Vyazma, hundreds of heroes lie. Here, defending Moscow, Soviet people performed a great feat of arms.
Remember!
Keep a bright memory of them!
Army General Georgy Konstantinovich Zhukov was appointed commander of the Western Front - the front, which included most of the troops defending Moscow.
Beetles arrived on the Western Front. Staff officers report to him the combat situation.
The fighting is near the city of Yukhnov, near Medyn, near Kaluga.
Officers find on the map of Yukhnov.
Here, - they report, - at Yukhnov, west of the city ... - and they report where and how the fascist troops are located near the city of Yukhnov.
No, no, they are not here, but here, ”Zhukov corrects the officers and indicates the places where the Nazis are at that time.
Officers looked at each other. They look at Zhukov in surprise.
Here, here, here in this place. Do not hesitate, says Zhukov.
Officers continue to report on the situation.
Here, - they find the city of Medyn on the map, - to the north-west of the city, the enemy concentrated large forces, - and list what forces: tanks, artillery, mechanized divisions ...
So, that’s right, ”says Zhukov. “Only the forces are not here, but here,” Zhukov said on the map.
Again, the officers look at Zhukov in surprise. They forgot about the further report, about the map.
Staff officers bent over the map again. Report to Zhukov, what is the fighting situation near the city of Kaluga.
“Here,” the officers say, “south of Kaluga, the enemy pulled the motorized part. Here at this moment they are standing.
No, - objectes Zhukov. “Not in this place now.” This is where the units are moved - and shows a new place on the map.
The staff officers were dumbfounded. With undisguised surprise they look at the new commander. Zhukov caught the distrust in the eyes of the officers. Grinned.
Do not doubt. That's exactly it. Well done, you know the situation, Zhukov praised the staff officers. “But I have more precisely.”
It turns out that General Zhukov had already visited Yukhnov, and near Medyn, and near Kaluga. Before going to headquarters, I went straight to the battlefield. That's where the exact information comes from.
In many battles, the general took part, and then Marshal of the Soviet Union Georgy Konstantinovich Zhukov - an outstanding Soviet commander, a hero of the Great Patriotic War. It was under his leadership and under the leadership of other Soviet generals that Soviet troops defended Moscow from the enemies. And then in stubborn battles and defeated the Nazis in the Great Moscow Battle.
This was before the start of the Moscow battle.
Hitler dreamed in Berlin. Guesses: what to do with Moscow? Tormented - to make such an unusual, original. Thought, thought ...
Hitler came up with this. I decided to flood Moscow with water. Build huge dams around Moscow. Pour water and the city, and all living things.
Everything will die immediately: people, houses and the Moscow Kremlin!
He covered his eyes. He sees: in the place of Moscow, the bottomless sea is splashing!
Descendants will remember me!
Then he thought: “Uh, while the water runs ...”
Wait ?!
No, he does not agree to wait long.
Destroy it now! In this very minute!
Hitler thought, and here is the order:
Bomb Moscow! Destroy! Shells! The bombs! Send Squadron! Send armada! Do not leave stone to stone! Level with the ground!
He threw his hand forward like a sword:
Destroy! Level with the ground!
So exactly, razed to the ground - fascist generals froze in readiness.
July 22, 1941, exactly one month after the outbreak of the war, the Nazis made the first air raid on Moscow.
Immediately 200 aircraft were sent to this raid by the Nazis. The motors are brazenly humming.
Collapsed in the seats of their pilots. Moscow is getting closer and closer. Fascist pilots reached for the bomb levers.
But what is it ?! Powerful searchlights crossed in the sky with knife-swords. Red-star Soviet fighters rose to meet the air robbers.
The fascists did not expect such a meeting. The system of enemies was upset. Only a few aircraft then broke through to Moscow. Yes, and they were in a hurry. They threw bombs wherever necessary, as soon as possible to drop them and run away from here.
Severe Moscow sky. An uninvited guest is severely punished. 22 aircraft shot down.
N-yes ... - the fascist generals extended.
Thinking. Now they decided to send planes not all at once, not in a common bunch, but in small groups.
The Bolsheviks will be punished!
The next day, again 200 planes fly to Moscow. They fly in small groups - three, four cars each.
And again they were met by Soviet anti-aircraft gunners, again they were driven away by red-star fighters.
The third time the Nazis send planes to Moscow. Stupid, inventive were the generals of Hitler. The generals came up with a new plan. We must send the aircraft in three tiers, they decided. Let one group of planes fly low off the ground. The second is a little higher. And the third - and at high altitude, and a little late. The first two groups will distract the attention of the defenders of the Moscow sky, the generals reason, and at this time at a high altitude the third group will quietly approach the city, and the pilots will drop bombs precisely on target.
And here again, fascist planes in the sky. Collapsed in the seats of their pilots. The motors are buzzing. Bombs froze in hatches.
There is a group. Behind her is the second. A little retreat, at high altitude, the third. The very last special airplane flies with cameras. He will take a picture of how the Nazi planes will be destroyed in Moscow, and will bring it to the generals for show ...
The news generals are waiting. So the first plane returns. The motors stalled. The screws stopped. The pilots came out. Pale to pale. They are barely standing.
Fifty aircraft were lost that day by the Nazis. The photographer did not go back either. Knocked him on the road.
Unapproachable Moscow sky. It strictly punishes enemies. The insidious calculation of the Nazis collapsed.
The fascists and their demoniac Fuhrer dreamed of destroying Moscow to the ground, to the stone. What happened?
The enemy is nearby. Soviet troops left Volokolamsk and Mozhaisk. In certain sections of the front, the Nazis came to Moscow even closer. Fights are near Naro-Fominsk, Serpukhov and Tarusa.
But as always, on this day, dear to all citizens of the Soviet Union, in Moscow, on Red Square, a military parade was held in honor of the great holiday.
When the soldier Mitrokhin was told that the unit in which he was serving would take part in the parade on Red Square, the soldiers did not believe at first. I decided that I was mistaken, misheard, something misunderstood.
Parade! - the commander explains to him. - Solemn, on Red Square.
So, parade, ”Mitrokhin answers. However, in the eyes of disbelief.
And then Mitrokhin froze in the ranks. He stands on Red Square. And the troops are to his left. And the troops are on the right. Party leaders and members of the government at the Lenin Mausoleum. Everything is exactly the same as in the past peacetime.
Only a rarity for this day - the snow is white all around. Early today the frost hit. Snow fell all night until morning. He whitewashed the Mausoleum, lay on the walls of the Kremlin, on the square.
8 am. The clock hands on the Kremlin tower converged.
Chimes beat off time.
Minute. Everything is quiet. The parade commander gave a traditional report. The host parade congratulates the troops on the anniversary of the Great October Revolution. Again, everything was quiet. Another minute. And at first, quietly, and then louder and louder, the words of the Chairman of the State Committee of Defense, the Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces of the USSR, Comrade Stalin.
Stalin says that this is not the first time that enemies have attacked us. What were in the history of the young Soviet Republic and more difficult times. That we met the first anniversary of the Great October Revolution surrounded by invaders on all sides. That 14 capitalist states fought against us then and we lost three fourths of our territory. But Soviet people believed in victory. And they won. They will win now.
- The words fly to Mitrokhin, - the whole world is looking at you as a force capable of destroying the predatory hordes of German invaders.
Soldiers froze in the ranks.
The great liberation mission fell on your lot, - words fly through the frost. - Be worthy of this mission!
Mitrokhin pulled himself up. His face became harsher, more serious, more severe.
The war you are waging is a war of liberation, a just war. - And after this, Stalin said: - May the courageous image of our great ancestors - Alexander Nevsky, Dmitry Donskoy, Kuzma Minin, Dmitry Pozharsky, Alexander Suvorov, Mikhail Kutuzov inspire you in this war! May the victorious banner of the great Lenin overshadow you!
Bits fascists. Moscow stands and blossoms, as before. Prettier from year to year.
There was one soldier in our company. Before the war, he studied at a music institute and played the accordion so wonderful that one of the fighters once said:
Brothers, this is an incomprehensible deception to the mind! Probably some tricky mechanism is hidden in this box! Here to see ...
Please, - the accordionist replied. - It’s just time for me to glue the bellows.
And in front of everyone, he took apart the instrument.
Tu-yu, ”the soldier said disappointedly.“ It’s empty, like in a shot sleeve ...
Inside the button accordion, between two wooden boxes connected by leather accordion fur, it was actually empty. Only on the side planks, where buttons were located outside, were wide metal plates with holes of different sizes. Behind each hole is hidden a narrow copper plank-petal. When the fur is stretched, air passes through the holes and vibrates the copper petals. And they sound. Thin - high. Thicker - lower, and thick petals as if singing bass. If a musician stretches his bellows a lot, the records sound loud. If the air is slightly inflated, the records fluctuate a little, and the music turns out to be quiet and quiet. That's all miracles!
And the fingers of our button accordion were a real miracle. Amazingly played, you will not say anything!
And this amazing skill has helped us more than once in a difficult front-line life.
Our accordionist will raise his mood on time, and he warms in the cold - makes him dance, and cheerfulness inspires us in a depressed, and makes us remember the pre-war happy youth: native lands, mothers and loved ones. And once ...
One evening, on the orders of the command, we changed combat positions. In no case was ordered to fight with the Germans. On our way there was a not very wide, but deep river with a single ford, which we used. On the other side were the commander and radio operator, they were finishing the communication session. Suddenly, fascist submachine gunners cut them off. And although the Germans did not know that ours were on their shore, they kept the crossing under fire, and there was no way to cross the ford. And when night fell, the Germans began to light the ford with rockets. Needless to say - the situation seemed hopeless.
Suddenly, our accordionist, without saying a word, takes out his accordion and begins to play Katyusha.
The Germans were taken aback at first. Then they came to their senses and brought down heavy fire on our shore. But the accordionist suddenly broke the chord and fell silent. The Germans stopped shooting. One of them yelled joyfully: "Rus, Rus, kaput, slaughter!"
But no caput happened to the accordion player. Luring the Germans, he crawled along the coast away from the crossing and again played the perky Katyusha.
The Germans accepted this challenge. They began to pursue the musician, and therefore for several minutes left ford without lighting rockets.
The commander and the radio operator immediately realized why our accordion player started a “musical” game with the Germans, and, without delay, slipped ford to the other side.
These are the cases that happened with our bayan soldier and his friend button accordion, by the way, so named in honor of the old Russian singer Bianna.
Crossing case
author G.V. Abrahamyan
There was one soldier in our company. Before the war, he studied at a music institute and played the accordion so wonderful that one of the fighters once said:
- Brothers, this is an incomprehensible deception to the mind! Probably some tricky mechanism is hidden in this box! Here to see ...
“Please,” the accordionist answered. “It’s just time for me to glue the bellows.”
And in front of everyone, he took apart the instrument.
“Thu-yu,” the soldier said disappointedly. “It’s empty, like in a spent sleeve ...”
Inside the button accordion, between two wooden boxes connected by leather accordion fur, it was actually empty. Only on the side planks, where buttons were located outside, were wide metal plates with holes of different sizes. Behind each hole is hidden a narrow copper plank-petal. When the fur is stretched, air passes through the holes and vibrates the copper petals. And they sound. Thin - high. Thicker - lower, and thick petals as if singing bass. If a musician stretches his bellows a lot, the records sound loud. If the air is slightly inflated, the records fluctuate a little, and the music turns out to be quiet and quiet. That's all miracles!
And the fingers of our button accordion were a real miracle. Amazingly played, you will not say anything!
And this amazing skill has helped us more than once in a difficult front-line life.
Our accordionist will raise his mood on time, and he warms in the cold - makes him dance, and cheerfulness inspires us in a depressed, and makes us remember the pre-war happy youth: native lands, mothers and loved ones. And once ...
One evening, on the orders of the command, we changed combat positions. In no case was ordered to fight with the Germans. On our way there was a not very wide, but deep river with a single ford, which we used. On the other side were the commander and radio operator, they were finishing the communication session. Suddenly, fascist submachine gunners cut them off. And although the Germans did not know that ours were on their shore, they kept the crossing under fire, and there was no way to cross the ford. And when night fell, the Germans began to light the ford with rockets. Needless to say - the situation seemed hopeless.
Suddenly, our accordionist, without saying a word, takes out his accordion and begins to play Katyusha.
The Germans were taken aback at first. Then they came to their senses and brought down heavy fire on our shore. But the accordionist suddenly broke the chord and fell silent. The Germans stopped shooting. One of them yelled joyfully: "Rus, Rus, kaput, slaughter!"
But no caput happened to the accordion player. Luring the Germans, he crawled along the coast away from the crossing and again played the perky Katyusha.
The Germans accepted this challenge. They began to pursue the musician, and therefore for several minutes left ford without lighting rockets.
The commander and the radio operator immediately realized why our accordion player started a “musical” game with the Germans, and, without delay, slipped ford to the other side.
These are the cases that happened with our bayan soldier and his friend button accordion, by the way, so named in honor of the old Russian singer Bianna.
On April 14, there were two cases in which the police supervisor was mainly B. I must say that in spring we have a ferry crossing through the Ulba River, which flows into the Irtysh, with the help of a tightened rope. In the summer, the mining department across the Ulba River erected bridges on carbases for transporting silver-lead ore from the Ust-Kamenogorsk pier to Zmeinogorsk.
The bridge on the carbases through the Ulba River in Ust-Kamenogorsk.
On April 14, the ferry, for some reason, was not lowered, and the crossing was carried out on a boat hitched to the rope by the mast. About 10 in the morning, in a boat intended for crossing, a drunk carrier put 8 people, including several women. To the boat, in addition, he managed to attach another horse.
Ferry on the Siberian river. Photo 1881-1885
Departing from the shore, the carrier somehow awkwardly turned the boat, the rope slid off the mast block, the horse pulled the sideboard in fright and the boat turned upside down, closed everyone floating in it. Two or three people managed to somehow emerge from under the boat and fit at the bottom of it. Other passengers were dragged along, with the exception of one peasant woman Trubacheva from the village of Praporshchikovo, who had grabbed hold of something in the boat and was expecting that she would be released from there.
But her hopes were futile, no one came to knock her at the bottom of the boat. To the police overseer B, walking along the coast, some of the townspeople asked to cut a boat or take some measures to free the unfortunate peasant woman. But B flatly refused them, announcing that he was not entitled to spoil the boats - he appreciated the boat more than human life.
When, finally, at the urging of the commandant, the boat was overturned, the peasant woman turned out to be suffocated and frozen. This peasant woman was lying under the boat for 12 hours and during that time the police did not hit finger to finger to save her.
Another case occurred on the same day. At the local bazaar, the shop of the merchant Mikhailov lit up at night. With a strong wind, a fire instantly swept over her, threatening neighboring shops. But the same sensible B., instead of stopping the fire itself, he ordered the fire engine to operate in the far away houses, forbidding at the same time to pull goods from an adjacent shop belonging to the merchant Lebedev, who also became a victim of the flame.
Having received several unceremonious admonitions from the townspeople who took up the fire, Mr. B. found it more prudent to hide from the public eye for a nearby building.
And the police master at this time kicked
with a company in his apiary, presented to him, as they say, by one gold miner as a sign of special friendship.
P.S. The horse that was tied to the boat drowned. And since this horse belonged to a peasant whose family is in the service of a judge, this latter demanded 100 rubles from the carrier. The carrier is said to have been jailed.
Siberian Newspaper No. 18, 1885.
There was one soldier in our company. Before the war, he studied at a music institute and played the button accordion so wonderfully that one of the fighters once said:
- Brothers, this is an incomprehensible deception to the mind! Probably some tricky mechanism is hidden in this box! Here to see ...
“Please,” the accordionist answered. “It’s time for me to glue the bellows.”
And in front of everyone, he took apart the instrument.
“Tyuyu,” the soldier said disappointedly. “It’s empty, like in a shot sleeve ...”
Inside the button accordion, between two wooden boxes connected by leather accordion fur, it was actually empty. Only on the side planks, where buttons on the outside are located, were wide metal plates with holes of different sizes. Behind each hole is hidden a narrow copper plank-petal. When the fur is stretched, air passes through the holes and vibrates the copper petals. And they sound. Thin - high. Thicker - lower, and thick petals as if singing bass. If a musician stretches his bellows a lot, the records sound loud. If the air is pumped weakly, the plates fluctuate a little, and the music turns out quiet, quiet. That's all miracles!
And the fingers of our button accordion were a real miracle. Amazingly played, you will not say anything!
And this amazing skill has helped us more than once in a difficult front-line life.
Our accordionist will raise his mood on time, and he warms in the cold - makes him dance, and cheerfulness inspires us in a depressed, and makes us remember the pre-war happy youth: native lands, mothers and loved ones. And once ...
One evening, on the orders of the command, we changed combat positions. In no case was ordered to fight with the Germans. On our way there was a not very wide, but deep river with one and only ford, which we used. On the other side were the commander and radio operator, they were finishing the communication session. The fascist submachine gunners suddenly cut them off. And although the Germans did not know that ours were on their shore, they kept the crossing under fire, and there was no way to cross the ford. And when night fell, the Germans began to light the ford with rockets. Needless to say - the situation seemed hopeless.
Suddenly, our accordionist, without saying a word, takes out his accordion and begins to play Katyusha.
The Germans were taken aback at first. Then they came to their senses and brought down heavy fire on our shore. But the accordionist suddenly broke the chord and fell silent. The Germans stopped shooting. One of them yelled joyfully: "Rus, Rus, kaput, slaughter!"
But no caput happened to the accordion player. Luring the Germans, he crawled along the coast away from the crossing and again played the perky Katyusha.
The Germans accepted this challenge. They began to pursue the musician, and therefore for several minutes left ford without lighting rockets.
The commander and the radio operator immediately realized why our accordion player started a “musical” game with the Germans, and, without delay, slipped ford to the other side.
These are the cases that happened with our bayan soldier and his other button accordion, by the way, so named in honor of the old Russian singer Bianna.
There was one soldier in our company. Before the war, he studied at a music institute and played the accordion so wonderful that one of the fighters once said:
- Brothers, this is an incomprehensible deception to the mind!
Probably some tricky mechanism is hidden in this box! Here to see ...
“Please,” the accordionist answered. “It’s time for me to glue the bellows.”
And in front of everyone, he took apart the instrument.
“Tu-yu,” the soldier said disappointedly. “It’s empty, like in a shot sleeve ...”
Inside the button accordion, between two wooden boxes connected by leather accordion fur, it was actually empty. Only on the side planks, where buttons were located outside, were wide metal plates with holes of different sizes. Behind each hole is hidden a narrow copper plank-petal. When the fur is stretched, air passes through the holes and vibrates the copper petals. And they sound. Thin - high. Thicker - lower, and thick petals as if singing bass. If a musician stretches his bellows a lot, the records sound loud. If the air is slightly inflated, the records fluctuate a little, and the music turns out to be quiet and quiet. That's all miracles!
And the fingers of our button accordion were a real miracle. Amazingly played, you will not say anything!
And this amazing skill has helped us more than once in a difficult front-line life.
Our accordionist will raise his mood on time, and he warms in the cold - makes him dance, and cheerfulness inspires us in a depressed, and makes us remember the pre-war happy youth: native lands, mothers and loved ones. And once ...
One evening, on the orders of the command, we changed combat positions. In no case was ordered to fight with the Germans. On our way there was a not very wide, but deep river with a single ford, which we used. On the other side were the commander and radio operator, they were finishing the communication session. Suddenly, fascist submachine gunners cut them off. And although the Germans did not know that ours were on their shore, they kept the crossing under fire, and there was no way to cross the ford. And when night fell, the Germans began to light the ford with rockets. Needless to say - the situation seemed hopeless.
Suddenly, our accordionist, without saying a word, takes out his accordion and begins to play Katyusha.
The Germans were taken aback at first. Then they came to their senses and brought down heavy fire on our shore. But the accordionist suddenly broke the chord and fell silent. The Germans stopped shooting. One of them yelled joyfully: "Rus, Rus, kaput, slaughter!"
But no caput happened to the accordion player. Luring the Germans, he crawled along the coast away from the crossing and again played the perky Katyusha.
The Germans accepted this challenge. They began to pursue the musician, and therefore for several minutes left ford without lighting rockets.
The commander and the radio operator immediately realized why our accordion player started a “musical” game with the Germans, and, without delay, slipped ford to the other side.
These are the cases that happened with our bayan soldier and his friend button accordion, by the way, so named in honor of the old Russian singer Bianna.
