Those four, who had to endure the older generations of our family have been monstrous. How many losses and tears fell to their share. But, despite all the horrors of war, the people managed to remain human. Even in this period, there was a place kindness, understanding and generosity.
Revision Website has collected real stories of war, told the participants of the events, and published their grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Neither one of them can not be read indifferently.
My mother told me about my grandfather. During the war he was with other soldiers surrounded the Germans and pressed on all sides, and food every day was becoming less and less. So my great-grandfather had found in a field a few cows and milked them for 40 days. That simply each of milk, the yogurt with herbs and so did. E., But still feed everyone. He then wrote a letter of thanks to Stalin, who was proud of his grandfather, and always kept in the box in a prominent place.
When I asked my grandmother what was the most important man in her life, I hoped, she would call the grandfather or someone from the children, but she was told that this man was a German soldier who found her alone in the ruins of six years, not given, sometimes he came to her and shared bread and sugar. It was terrible, pimply, skinny and without eyebrows. She did not understand and was frightened when he suddenly it took off somewhere, but he just gave it to the village of kind people. It would not be his - it was not our family
I have my grandmother told me that during the war they foundling child, lived on the outskirts of the city, and that's one of the coldest days in them. I ran out of bread. Find him there was unreal, they went to get some air, and passed by a lonely Russian soldiers. He came to my grandmother, I saw the child in her arms, gave them their ration of bread and said, "I'm going to the frontier. I know that the living will not go back. Take nothing good to disappear. " And left. My grandmother said that it was with the help of this bread they survived. She said that she often dream of the soldier.
The real love story for me will always be the love story of my great-grandmother to great-grandfather. Back in the 43rd his concussion grenade shrapnel bursting, and she dragged him under the line of fire to the tent hospital. All my life together, hand in hand. And they buried. . Near
My great-grandmother was in captivity, the German was going to shoot her and the other woman covering her breast, saying, "You're still young, live." Granny was 16 years old. The woman died in her arms ... My grandmother always cries when he talks about it.
In the next yard lived a woman who has always loved and respected my grandfather while he was still with us. As it turned out, he and her father have been side by side throughout the war. In one of the battles her father was seriously wounded in the neck by shrapnel exploding grenades, and my grandpa under the threat of execution for desertion was dragging it out for yourself to the nearest medical center. Thus he saved his friend, and he died at home, surrounded by family after many years. I am proud of my grandfather!
During the war, my grandmother worked as a seamstress (tunics, jackets and so on. D.). And young girls with all sincerity wrote love notes, addresses, do risunochki and hidden in every pocket.
One boy in 11 years during the war helped to collect tanks at the factory. They worked then to fall. Literally. Work until the fall. And the boy inside the tank once just fell asleep. He woke up when the tank was already riding on the w / d up. Night, shouting useless, climb towards the driver - even kill. So I drove to another city. Back he went to a woman who picked him up at the train / railway station, the woman had a daughter of nine years. Woman with her daughter and the boy's family very much friends. And after a while the boy and the girl became husband and wife. The war really affected all the family. For example, if my grandfather did not Zadar in the tank, I would not have been born.
My grandmother was a child during the war. Until now, with gratitude remembers a woman who worked in a bread stall. She collected all the tithe from the trays of bread and divided them into small paper kulechki. When children and my grandmother including going to school, then got on such kulechku. In those lean years, and it was a treat, and reinforcements were starving while all. Neither the name of the woman she did not know anything. Still a great nation, because even the hungry always sympathized with those who are even worse. Hard was given great victory.
1942. Wild cold. Grandmother three children, 2, 4 and 6. That's going to die of hunger. They bombed the house of neighbors, and killed the mother of two children, 5 months and 10 years. All have turned away. My grandmother took the children themselves. She got out of the box with toys on the Christmas tree (with the pre-war years), one carrot a day, rubbing it on a grater, and under the tongue gave children. The 45th returned to my grandfather. She weighed 35 kg with height 176 cm. She always considered herself a mother of five children. And she has kept all. Great woman. Great people. Great victory!