Seydametov, Iskander
Seydametov, Iskander_x000D_
Rank: Starshina Branch: Ground Forces. Subdivision: 125th Krasnoselskaya Red Banner Infantry Division of the Order of Kutuzov _x000D_
“I distinctly remember the first post-war year in Samarkand, where by the will of fate I ended up with my parents and brother. Our yard was a one-story house with six two-room apartments, each with a porch at the entrance and a glazed veranda. Along the courtyard facade of the house there is a common passage for the entire courtyard: an oblong strip of land about 4 meters wide, and behind it, opposite each apartment, a personal garden plot with an area of probably about two acres. A passageway between the porches and garden plots led to two common wooden ”objects" at the end of the courtyard, a large dust bin on the left and a latrine on the right. The Seydametov family, as it later turned out, Crimean Tatars, all female, from children to a very old grandmother, settled in the place of the dust bin and with homeless dogs and cats. _x000D_
We did not have the slightest idea about nationalities in the Soviet Union. We never discussed it, and for many years I did not know about the nationality of my neighbors, just like my classmates, having entered school and studied for ten years. (Having gathered after 30 years of graduation, we looked at each other in surprise, finding in the classroom Russians, Uzbeks, Tajiks, Jews, Armenians and five Crimean Tatars. Naturally, in our childhood we never had a slightest idea about nationality, residing at the international Uzbek land.) _x000D_
A new family fiddled around in the corner of the yard, made some kind of adobe housing and a fence, moving the dust bin to the front of the yard, in a nook behind the gate. The new neighbors caused some irritation among the old-timers, but then, thanks to their humble disposition and quiet, imperceptible behavior in the new habitat, everything settled down. _x000D_
Some neighbors, first of all, our mother, have established warm relations with the Seydametovs. It was she who convinced me and the other neighbors to treat these women with Christian tolerance and compassion. _x000D_
And then one day, when used to study on the porch, getting ready for classes on the second shift and relaxing after long standing in line for bread, then a fit man with brilliant orders and medals on his chest followed the kerosene past me with an energetic step and proceeded straight to the corner of the Seydametovs' settlement. This was Iskander, the main character of my story. _x000D_
Further, I only mentioned the impressions of mine, my sister and mother, but mainly from his memories during our meeting many years later. This man made a great impression on me, his fate seemed interesting to me, and for a long time I was going to tell about him … _x000D_
Iskander, like many of his relatives and fellow tribesmen, lived in Yalta before World War II. In 1941, he immediately went to the front as a boy. He fought honestly and fearlessly, but also skillfully, thanks to which, having no education and military training, already in the 1942nd he became a Platoon Commander and was awarded officer's shoulder straps, replacing the killed officers. His natural leadership qualities in the face of harsh circumstances made him an authoritative, recognized and respected Commander by soldiers. He did not hide behind the backs of his soldiers, he took responsibility for himself, was ahead, made decisions quickly. _x000D_
God had mercy: he went through the whole war, ended up as a Captain, returned in orders and medals. Orders, I remember, were both of the Patriotic War of two degrees, and the Red Banner, and probably the Order of Alexander Nevsky, and a few more, and many medals. After all, he put them on the chest only once, when he proudly walked through the yard, where at the end he would meet his family. _x000D_
The joy of returning after four years of military separation was overshadowed by the unexpected news that the family was exiled and found nowhere. _x000D_
Before the war, Iskander married Dilyra, a thin, kind, constantly spinning woman, always in incessant worries and worries about Iskander's family, where she entered and immediately remained alone with his mother, sisters, nieces, well, it seems, only the female were there in this family . Under the most complicated circumstances, while her beloved Iskander was fighting for the Motherland, she supported her family as best she could, with the last bit of strength, until an unexpected misfortune came: the forcible resettlement of the Crimean Tatars to the eastern regions of the empire as punishment for the betrayal of some of their representatives. _x000D_
I think the truth was hiding from the Tatar front-line soldiers, and therefore, when Iskander was demobilized and found out that the family was nowhere, he began to look for them first in Kazakhstan, then in Uzbekistan in different places where the families of the Crimean Tatars were scattered. He was looking for several months, if not more, and finally he found them in the corner of the Samarkand courtyard. This was a moment I saw: a front-line soldier energetically passing by me. I did not have the slightest idea of repression, about the fate of this person and his family, in general about the nationality of the “Crimean Tatars”, not only at that time, but years later, when I was already finishing the High School. _x000D_
The only thing I had witnessed for ten years, together with all the neighbors, and we were surprised at this, is Iskender's indomitable energy and will to live and create. He raised his family out of poverty, built a brick house in this nook behind a clay fence, gave birth to three daughters one after another, whom his pre-war bride, faithful, silent and desperately thin Dilyara, brought him. _x000D_
The girls ran around the yard with my post-war sister, and I regularly photographed them from a German trophy camera that opens like harmonica, bought by my parents cheap at a flea market for my older brother and me. Then I finished school and left my parental home for an independent life in Tashkent, then to Rostov-on-Don, and by this time my parents returned to their native Krasnodar, where they lived 15 years of their happy youth before the war. _x000D_
Years have passed, scattered and erased in memory the faces and destinies of many people, including neighbors in the yard, among whom was the Iskander family ... But life, as you know, sometimes throws up unexpected meetings ... Arriving at the wedding of my beloved younger sister, I, to my considerable surprise, saw Iskander there with his Dilyara, who had come from Samarkand to Krasnodar for a wedding! _x000D_
How could I not be surprised if people, remembering the close relations between neighbors and the friendship of their eldest daughter Zarema with my sister, spent so much time, not to mention travel expenses, to come to see my parents and congratulate my sister. _x000D_
Indeed, at that time, (now it is hard to imagine), it was possible to get to Krasnodar only with a train change in Moscow. But the train from Samarkand went to Moscow for five days, and then from Moscow to Krasnodar another two days. _x000D_
So, in fact, considering time that Iskander spent his entire three-week vacation on this trip alone for the travel and guest visits! And here I come to the main point of the story, meeting and talking with Iskander after almost 20 years of separation. We talked with him in dad's office, breaking away from the bustle of pre-wedding chores that noisily filled the rest of the apartment. Dilyara also took part, but only in fits and starts, although she wanted to listen to more. We were clearly glad to see each other, as people, separated not only by the era, but also by the years of our own growth and formation. _x000D_
I became an engineer who worked at different construction sites and who had already seen a lot, was the father of two sons. Now, having become mature I perceived Iskander differently, learned more about him and felt his personality. _x000D_
At first I told about myself, my life by that time, and the first thing I wanted to tell them two, Iskander and Dilyara together, is that now I am aware the fate of their people and guess about their family fate, that I support the desire of the Crimean Tatars to receive full rehabilitation and be restored in all rights, that I support the struggle of General Grigorenko for the rights of the Crimean Tatars._x000D_
I am outraged at the injustice towards their fellow tribesmen. At that time, the government of the USSR did not decide on its position on the problem of the Crimean Tatars, although actions and laws on rehabilitation were adopted in relation to other people. _x000D_
The trouble was that each of the repressed peoples received rehabilitation in different ways. Iskander and Dilyara were pleased to hear such a confession from me. Then Iskander started talking..._x000D_
Actually, the further part of my story is devoted to retelling his story, which I convey without the slightest changes in the facts and the essence of what I heard, from his words. Actually, the conversation was not about the past, moreover, not at all about politics. He talked about the last years of his ordeals, which concerned the return to his native Yalta. I remind you that this is not the 90s, but the mid-70s. _x000D_
“You see, they actually rehabilitated us, the time had come, they figured out how we fought, there were Heroes of the Soviet Union and twice Heroes among us ... But people ”Crimean Tatars" have not been recognized officially. Authorities began to make a line in the passport as "Crimean" (the line of nationality was in the Soviet passport)._x000D_
And you can go to the Crimea, but not to live permanently. And I so want to buy a house in Yalta, I wanted it all my life how to return. There were and are many opportunities to move to Russia, to any place, but no city can replace Yalta. I have already retired and am in a hurry to buy a house, so I went to Yalta last summer to take a closer look. I think maybe the permit will come out, so I’ll be ready, I need to take my time to look at the options, ask the price more precisely, the area is right ... _x000D_
So I arrived in Yalta, immediately went to the Rental Bureau kiosk, and I said to a woman in the window: “Give me the address of an apartment to rent in the center. Just mind, do not offer bullshit - I know the city like the back of my hand! ”_x000D_
The answer is silence. I was surprised, I wanted to turn around, when suddenly, door opens on the back of the kiosk, I hear a noise, an elderly woman runs out and shouts out loud: “Iskander, son, here, I waited for you!” And crying loudly, and hugs me, and wails. Passing by people halt in surprise. What happened? And she: “So, if I had seen you on the street, I would not recognize you, but your voice has not changed!” _x000D_
“It turned out ...” - this is a phrase added by Iskander from time to time. Like a passionate storyteller he used it to surprise listeners with something exiting. Remembering the important, he, as if turning the plot, unexpectedly inserts this - “It turned out!” _x000D_
And the listener expects something extraordinary. I also expected anything, but not what I heard... _x000D_
During the Leningrad Siege, in 1942, his military unit was thrown to the outskirts of the city, in confrontation against the Germans, who were not far away, but did not advance. The platoon, which was already commanded by a recent soldier Iskander, who had just received the Junior Lieutenant's shoulder straps, had to conduct a passive defense, awaiting an order for an offensive, which was not yet possible. Iskander attributes his appointment as Platoon Commander exclusively to a situation when other officers of the unit were killed one after another, and the unit itself was narrowed to the size of a platoon. However, one can feel leadership qualities even in manner of storytelling, that it was understandable: only he could lead a platoon and lead people. Every morning and evening, Iskander sent soldiers for recon patrol to find out information in surroundings. _x000D_
Once a soldier came running and says: in the dead zone between ours and the Germans, there was a house, standing alone, in the midst of complete destruction around. Previously, there was fog, it was impossible to make out, but there were no signs of life, but then the soldier noticed something and decided to check. And although it was dangerous, the area was periodically fired upon, the soldier established: a woman in a house alone with three children—little is less! The soldier worried out of sympathy … _x000D_
The family was hungry and cold in the hut, the firewood ran out. Sympathizing, the soldier wanted to help, although he knew that the command was set to keep his head down. Iskander immediately ordered to collect possible provisions, chop wood, and with two soldiers went to an abandoned house, where without any hope, hugging each other, wrapped in rags, sat a woman, two girls and a very small boy. _x000D_
Iskander with soldiers put things in order in an abandoned house, fired the stove, warmed up, fed and bathed children. Then, choosing the moments, more often at night, every day Iskander sent a soldier to help the woman who was preparing to die. This lasted for two weeks, after which the fighting began, then the shootout, then the redeployment. _x000D_
In the kaleidoscope of events of the terrible war, unthinkable in severity and tragedy, the episode with the woman was erased in my memory. Well, Commander Iskander acted, as his conscience prompted him at that moment. He helped, however, at great risk. So that's it. It was this woman who cried out in Yalta 25 years later, recognizing her savior by the voice. _x000D_
Everything in her life then happened: God had mercy, although her husband died, and the children are all alive, she raised everyone, retired, exchanged the Leningrad apartment for Yalta, where she lives here with her son and two grandchildren in his family, daughters are fine too, in other cities ... This story made an impression on me, and continuing the conversation, I could not resist and asked: “Iskander, how did you manage to make enough money for living of such a large family and save to buy a house in Yalta? ” I did not know anything about his jobs. _x000D_
And I was not mistaken with the question: he revived again and began to talk, as usual, with burning eyes and passion. How I regretted later that I had not recorded the conversation right away! Later, many details were forgotten, which cannot be restored. It turned out that he worked in supply, at large vegetable bases. An unexpected import of hundreds of tons of potatoes, onions, cucumbers, apples came to Uzbekistan. There were always not enough storage facilities, but here two of the largest bases in the republic collapsed! And all the food is being imported is dumped on the ground. But summer is over, it will soon be rains and cold weather. Catastrophe! What to do? People from the Ministry of Trading of the Republic turned to him: save us! _x000D_
Important commentary: Iskander was not even the head of one storage facility, he was a worker, but he had repeatedly shown the talent of an organizer, an engine in a spontaneous situation. However, this time the organizational talent would not have been enough. Iskander outdid himself. Knowledge of the properties of different fruits and vegetables led to unexpected solutions. Here, I regret not writing it down, I might make mistakes. But the picture remained in the memory: three tiers of using the missing storage volumes. Below are potatoes, folded on planks from disassembled boxes, not in bulk, but in pyramidal cones of a small volume, in order to ventilate from the side windows, slightly ajar, did not allow rotting to take place; at the top, under the overlap, on boards rarely nailed to the lower belts of farms, bags with another vegetable or fruit, I'm afraid to lie which one. And between them, nets with onions and garlic tied to the ceiling on ropes, which contributed to the preservation of both the underlying potatoes and the product spread above on temporarily nailed boards. Thus, not only the storage capacity has increased, but the storage conditions for the product with various properties, the combination of which has led to a manifold reduction in losses from spoilage. It was about thousands of tons of preserved vegetables and fruits in the republic. _x000D_
And the result is as follows: the Minister of Trade of Uzbekistan personally came to him to present him with a prize: a six-month salary and a gift, a passenger car, which Iskander sold, having no interest in technology, and he needed money. I told only about one case, and he described several of them, different and very interesting. And then an incident happened: I unexpectedly got into a mess. Delighted with the story about the many intricacies of the technology and organization of the processes of storing vegetables and fruits, I exclaimed in my hearts: “Iskander, this is a finished dissertation! Why don't you do this? ” _x000D_
Iskander laughed loudly and for a long time, then, choking with laughter, said: Alik, dear, I'm uneducated, I have seven grades of school! I sat down, stunned. Then I thought: when could Iskander get an education? Indeed, he could not. There was no time: first the parents had to be fed and rescued, then the war, then to raise the wife and children. But he gave a higher education to all three girls. This was his dream. He was very happy and proud that it had come true._x000D_
Several more years passed, and the restless Iskander died without fulfilling of another dream, probably the most important and cherished after the well-being and education of daughters—to move to live in city of Yalta in Crimea ... _x000D_
At this point I was going to finish my story about an interesting person with an interesting fate. But life made adjustments again. _x000D_
More than 35 years have passed since the events described above, Iskander's story at my sister's wedding. It has happened when I went to Krasnodar with my sister, and I asked about her Samarkand friend, the eldest daughter of Iskander, Zarema, not hoping that some connections might still be preserved. And what? “It turned out ...”: Zarema, a doctor by training, mother of two sons, now also a grandmother, lives in Yalta! The next day, through the efforts of an advanced daughter-in-law, you can imagine, I spoke with Zarema, whom I had not seen for more than half a century, since I left my parental home to study in Tashkent - via Skype !!! _x000D_
Yes, you can't think of this anymore. Iskander's dream came true. His grandson made up his mind and, overcoming the difficulties and vicissitudes of any events, he moved to Yalta, to his mother Zarema. I do not know the fate of her son, with whom she lives, or, especially grandchildren, that is, Iskander's great-grandchildren. Nothing can be foreseen in this life. I just really want good people to feel good.