Hunger and a dead horse
“The authorities have changed every day. Russians of today, and tomorrow we’ll get up again by the Germans. The Germans have kicked out of the house, we were in the cellar. In the yard was a cellar, that’s where we lived. Mom went back to the Elevator for grain, but the grain was gone. A little bit had collected in half with the earth and all. I had to go to beg. I went to the soldiers and our filed and the Germans. However, the Germans gave more moldy bread, but we were happy. Remember, the house was a ravine, and there hid our Russian soldiers, they decided to surrender. And the commander of them was wounded. As I remember, they were under arms.
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Came to us in the yard. A German officer shouted at the wounded man: “Jew, Judas!”. And that, apparently, not happy to have life, only head waves that, well, Yes. And they have it immediately from the gun shot, his poor guts out, and he fell to us in the cellar. Mom wanted to bury him, but the Germans were not allowed, and in the morning came our and buried him.”
“The cold weather, a frost hit. Out of the ground already it was impossible to get, and I constantly went to the Elevator for burnt grain. The snow fell, winter was fierce. From the trench we moved to one good people in the basement. I’ve tried in every way to please, help. The Germans are no longer feared. Was shuffling about their field kitchens, people got to know me and leftovers, waste fall to me. And then the Germans surrounded our, kitchen was empty, and they switched to “grazing” food.
Soviet soldiers during one of the street fighting in Stalingrad. Photo: RIA Novosti
Met with the Romanians and with them began to extract the meat from the fallen horses. Soon the Germans followed our example. In the beginning they were slaughtering the horses, and when they are gone, set to the carcass. From starvation we were saved by the dead horses and dogs.”
“We have been absolutely indifferent, all was lost and broken in the soul sorrow and pain, in the eyes of frozen tears. Walked in silence to each other, if only out of fear, all mixed up in my head. Were leaving their homes. What waited for us ahead, nobody knew. When we reached the village “40 houses”, the people that were at the may day demonstration. And where people were hiding, it seemed — the city is deserted. But no, people walked, and walked, who hosts, who with bags and who with grief. Ask where you’re going, nobody knew. If only out of fear.
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And suddenly, planes with red stars, how lucky so many of them, they are ours. But what is it? We couldn’t believe they dropped bombs. Oh, God, why? After all we’ve been through enough. We have completely forgotten that they beat the Germans, but among us the Nazis were not. There were only civilians, battered, exhausted, hungry.”
“No more lords, father!”
“When the Germans were already surrounded, we, the ubiquitous Stalingrad boys helped our trophy teams to collect captured weapons, which were kept in a lot near the club Voroshilov. A lot of our guys got blown up then mines, generously arranged by the Germans. I escaped with a slight wound of the right hand.
For their assistance in the military I was issued the certificate to receive the medal “For defense of Stalingrad”. Unfortunately, I didn’t save them, and not before then it was.”
Destroyed Pavlov’s house in Stalingrad, where during the battle of Stalingrad kept the defense of a group of Soviet fighters. Photo: RIA Novosti
“The retreat of the Germans we felt when they set fire to their warehouses. The warehouse burned all night. Again, no one slept, waiting for the morning. On the morning of my mother’s sister’s husband, uncle Bob Gorlanovsees at the well soldier. Picked up buckets — and to the well, says to the soldier: “pan, pan, I water.” A soldier turns to him and says: “No more lords, father!”.
There was so much joy! All belongings and go home. In its place”.
“The liberation of Stalingrad from the Germans we met on the ruins Vodoochistka. There was so much joy at the sight of our soldiers. They embraced and cried from happiness. The soldiers shared their meager rations with us, swollen from hunger.
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My whole life I remember and will remember the soldier who during street fighting in Traktorozavodsky area ran from the corner of the house, I stood at the door of the burning of our works with his mother, came up to us, took from his pocket a blue piece of sugar and said, “Eat, daughter, God willing, will survive in this hell, and to me it was no good. But remember, we’re still gonna beat these bastards!”. He turned and ran for the house, to his. At that time it was an expensive treat. My mom started crying, and I could not eat this piece of refined sugar. I really wanted to get the soldier remained alive.”
Soldiers ‘ bread
“One night in all nor — to our shelters — ran the Germans and shouted: “Five minutes Bunka, five minutes Bunka”. No one understood what it means. Decided that in five minutes all will be shot. My mother and my grandmother cried and said goodbye to everyone. But long time passed and nobody came, nobody came for us. Mom listened and said: “I heard from automatic weapons fire, our German machines so do not shoot”. Peeking out from under the blanket, which was hung our hole, and though it was dark, she saw men in white camouflage and scream, “those are Our guys!”. The Mechetka river ran red with guns in their hands.
Street fighting in Stalingrad during the great Patriotic war in September 1942. Photo: RIA Novosti
By morning, all was quiet. Our soldiers went to our holes and helped to move from dug in bunkers. Grandma carried in her arms, her legs were paralyzed. The soldiers fed us white bread and bacon”.
“Through our trench passed the tank and filled up the entrance into the trench and piled the earth me against the wall. Mom got me up, and we moved to the other side of the trench. When everything calmed down, everything came out of the trench and brought me. It was a Sunny frosty day. We saw a terrible picture. All the fields strewn with corpses in black jackets. They really stood out in the snow. Having become adult, I often recalled this terrible picture and thought, where did the sailors who went into battle on the Mamayev Kurgan? Because we do not live on the sea.
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So I’ve been carrying unsolved mystery. When our country celebrated the date of the liberation of Stalingrad, the TV was broadcast. Were soldiers with memories. One officer in uniform said that in the liberation of Stalingrad was attended sea school and was asked to stand up those who remained alive after the attack. In the hall stood a few sailors. I have the body went goose bumps. So where did the sailors, lying in the meadow and on the slopes of Mamayev Kurgan. I will never forget”.
“The house of relatives burned, and they themselves were not in Voropanova. One night we spent in the station.
What it was a terrible night! Our part of the ammunition of the Germans came and stood at the station, and here are our planes bombed all night this composition. Flying bombs, exploding ammunition, and the station hundreds of people. To go whether we are gathered or the Germans people to send something like, I don’t know. Around moaning, cries for help, and we didn’t hurt anyone. My brother on the head was a bucket, so it was so riddled with shrapnel, but he survived, had some scratches. And after that night, we went back to Stalingrad, returned to his house, and during the bombing and shooting were in the basement on Dnestrovskoe. Prior to joining our house was hit by a bomb, and it burned. We went to another ruined house on Dnestrovskoe. Patched holes in it and lived.
The ruins of the Stalingrad tractor plant named after Dzerzhinsky. Photo: RIA Novosti
It was a holiday, we all ran outside. Hugging soldiers. I remember some soldiers gave me a loaf of bread.”
“Not only do we still remember with deep gratitude the people who helped us through that terrible time, and their grandchildren talk about them.
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We have come to the farm vorobevka. Beautiful he was mayor, and we lived there for two months. Then we still get kicked out again, Reeve has given us a curve culled the horse, and we moved to the station Romanov, from which the Romanian part was retreating. In Romanov took us in the house, from which the owner ran away with the Germans, and we in him lived to a happy winter morning when I woke up and saw their loved ones of soldiers-liberators.
The corpse of a German soldier on the battlefield of Stalingrad. Photo: RIA Novosti
For life I remember that morning. Down the street there were our soldiers, but not as we saw during the retreat in Stalingrad. Now they were well outfitted in fur coats, felt boots. Mother up all night baking them pancakes, and near the house was a field kitchen with a good soup.”
“On November 25, the evening silence, crawled our grandfather near the dugout, the mine exploded and the shrapnel killed him, did not our grandfather Andrew. He was buried in the nearby pit bunkers. On 29 November, I saw dad the last time he ran, as always, for a moment, even had me and my mom to kiss, saying at parting: “We’ll chase the German.” And the battles continues. December, January, cold, forced to sit in one place, fighting was going on, but less frequently. Miraculously surviving, we are just at the end of January saw a pale, some sullen all their relatives.”