Zaitsev Alexander Vasilyevich
I was born when my great grandfather was no longer alive. But I was told a lot about him by my grandmother and father. And I know that he lived a hard, but decent life. His portrait is hanging in my room, and I often look at him. My grandfather's name was Alexander Vasilyevich Zaitsev. When the war started, he was 34 years old. He immediately went to the front. By profession, he was a chauffeur. And during the war, such soldiers were very much needed. He was transporting soldiers, weapons, grenades, food and medicine. The fate of the battle depended on whether ammunition was delivered on time to the front line during the war. He was under the German fire many times, but never let his comrades down. The combat vehicle was helping him out. But my great-grandfather did not make it to Berlin. One day, he was badly wounded: a shell fragment broke through his leg. My great-grandfather spent a long time in hospital in Moscow. His leg was treated, but the shot leg became much shorter than the other one, and he had to always walk with a cane and limp. My great-grandfather had many combat awards, but according to his father and grandmother, he did not like to brag about them and talk about them. At the front three of his brothers also fought with the Germans: Konstantin Zaitsev, Peter Zaitsev and Dmitry Zaitsev. Peter Vasilyevich reached Berlin. All brothers were wounded in battles with the Germans, but returned home alive. Not sparing their strength, their youth, they defended their homeland from enemies. And when they returned home, they took up peaceful labor, restoring their homeland, destroyed by the enemy. After the war, my great-grandfather worked as a mechanic in the automobile shop of the “Free Falcon” steel factory and "treated" cars. He was respected by everyone. He was wise and fair. He had three daughters. The youngest, my grandmother, was born after the war. My great-grandfather built a house, in which we live as a family even now. He planted apples and pears. Their harvest pleases us every year. So the memory of our great-grandfather still lives in his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.