Prisoners of war

One of the "Missing"_x000D_ War. A terrible and difficult time._x000D_ It is rare to find a family in our country that was not touched by it. Family photo albums keep the memory of the great fighters who fought for Motherland. Stories about the feat of the Soviet people are being passed from mouth to mouth. By May 9, children and adults carry flowers to the memorials. This is really a real holiday, which we celebrate even after 70 years with tears in our eyes. There is a monument to those who died in the terrible battles of the Great Patriotic War in every city, in every small village. On thousands of obelisks, you can see millions of names of soldiers and officers who defended the independence of our country. But among this list there is no surname of my great-grandfather, Vasily Semyonov. He is still missing... The Shaturskiy District Military Commissariat called up by in August 1941. For several months, he wrote letters from the front to his wife and children, and then he disappeared... for 74 years. Until the last day, my grandmother, his daughter, hoped that he was alive. She was waiting for him for many years. Children grew up, grandchildren grew up, and everyone was waiting for Vasiliy. We believed to the last that he had somehow managed to escape, perhaps even settled on another continent… They even hoped that he had another family, but only if he was alive. I did not know my great-grandfather, nor did my mother (his granddaughter) found him, but we were always interested in his fate. We wanted to know what had happened to him. After all, there had been no news of him since October 1941. Information about the great-grandfather appeared recently. A couple of years ago, I once again monitored sites with archives of the Second World War and on one of them came across documents that put an end to our search, which lasted several decades. Information about my great-grandfather appeared on the website of OBD Memorial. At some point, I noticed that there appeared data about POW camps (stalags). I went to this page and ... saw "Semenov"... “Ryazan”. My mother came running at my shout. - Found! We found my grandfather! My mother has tears in her eyes... Grandpa was watching us from the monitor...He was thin, in a camp uniform, and held his number in his hands. At the beginning of the war, he was captured, then in Stalag 321 Arbca. The Germans meticulously recorded all the data about the great-grandfather: height, weight, hair color, fingerprints and a lot of other information. Even his mother's maiden name was indicated! There was also information about where my great-grandfather was buried, in the cemetery next to Stalag. Most likely, he died of typhus. I found out about the OBD Memorial website 5 years ago. This generalized data Bank contains information about the defenders of the Fatherland, who died and went missing during the Great Patriotic War, as well as in the post-war period. Its creators did a great job and created a huge archive of the dead. The OBD Memorial website has given our family a new history. Gave us our grandfather. Finally, the seal of a person "with an unknown fate" has been removed from his name. We will print out the last photo of my great-grandfather. Now it will be passed down from generation to generation along with the story of the Great War.

Didiciev Vasily Andreyevich_x000D_ _x000D_ Didichev Vasily Andreevich, began his military career in the Finnish war. On July 12, 1941, he was drafted into the red Army. Since 17.10.1941, my grandfather was the commander of 288 SD on the Chudovo-Volkhov front: the soldiers of our army held back the Nazi offensive on Leningrad. On October 23, 1941, the Germans broke through the defenses. In one of the fierce battles, near the village of Ostrov (Leningrad region, Chudovsky district), my grandfather was wounded in the leg and lost consciousness. When he awoke, he saw the muzzle of a German submachine gun in front of him... So he was captured, where he stayed for 4 years and experienced all its horrors. From 23.10.1941 to 03.11.141 I was in a camp near Riga. From 03.11.1941 to 01.12.1941-camp No. 320 in East Prussia. 01.12.1941-29.04.1942-gultsevo camp (?). 29.04.1942 – 15. 07.1942 – camp Justovo (?). 15.02.1943-28.04.1943-altwarp camp (Germany). 28.04.1943 – 20.09.1943 camp of Szczecin (Germany) – the prisoners were engaged in repair of roofs after the bombing. 30.09.1943-30.04.1945 - camp Wolgast (Germany)-prisoners built an Elevator for processing Russian wheat (on the Baltic sea coast), dug land-approaches for ships. After these works, the construction supervisor (German max) took my grandfather to the basement, to the workshop. There he made slats that lined the Elevator. This facility was under security. When the Soviet Army began to advance, the Germans prepared to retreat at 3 am. On April 30, the Germans ordered a retreat. There was a panic, and the Nazis began to shoot people. Four prisoners, including the grandfather, hid underground under the boards. They stayed there until noon, when Soviet soldiers liberated the concentration camp. On may 5, 1945, my grandfather was assigned to serve in PP No. 96072 in the 166 military commandant's office for released prisoners of war and repatriated citizens of allied countries, in the commandant's guard company of the city of Prenzlau (Germany). In this city, the survivors of foreign prisoners of war released from Nazi concentration camps were collected and sent to their homeland. My grandfather repatriated the Hungarian military, sending them home via Berlin. October 20, 1945 for honest and conscientious service, was presented to the award and was discharged with the characteristic: "showed himself as a good and honest citizen who followed the orders of the commander in the specified period." My grandfather got home by freight trains: first to Moscow, then to Molodechno, then to Bologoe. There, my grandfather had a bad leg ache – acute rheumatism. Somehow getting into the car, he got to Brusovo. From there he went on foot to the village of the Liquid. Grandfather covered this distance of 5 km in 4 hours… He died on 17.06.2006.

Dubinin (Slavinsky) Ivan_x000D_ _x000D_ Rank: Second Lieutenant. Type of troops: Armored and mechanized troops. The soldier's real name is Ivan Vladimirovich Slavinsky. In his youth, he was stripped of his rights and sentenced to exile to the North as a member of the kulak family of the second category. Data from the book "History of dekulakization": "on January 30, 1930, the Politburo of the Central Committee of the CPSU (b) adopted a resolution "on measures to eliminate kulak farms in areas of continuous collectivization". According to the decree, fists were divided into three categories: 1. The counter-revolutionary Aktiv, the organizers of terrorist acts and revolts. 2. The rest of the counter-revolutionary asset consists of the wealthiest kulaks and half-cashiers. 3. The remaining fists. Heads of kulak families of the first category were arrested, and cases of their actions were referred to special committees consisting of representatives of the OGPU, regional committees (kraikoms) VKP (b) and the Prosecutor's office. Family members of kulaks of the first category and kulaks of the second category were subject to eviction to remote areas of the USSR or remote areas of the region, territory, Republic for special settlement. Kulaks, of the third category, settled within the district on specially allocated land for them." Fleeing from exile, Ivan took the surname Dubinin. Under this name, since 1935, he studied at a tank school in the West of the USSR. From the first days of the war, as a second Lieutenant, Ivan fought on the border. During the following months, he led a tank platoon of the 30th tank brigade. In the battle of Uman, he fought against the mountain division "Edelweiss". Once in the Uman cauldron, he was captured along with 100,000 Soviet prisoners of war. The tanker's parents were notified that he was missing. At this time, Ivan was in a concentration camp for prisoners of war in Moscow. Vladimir-Volynsky. In the camp, prisoners were not given food, and Ivan's colleagues and friends died one by one. Ivan held out for almost a year, and died of starvation a week before the prisoners were released to the city for work, which meant salvation from starvation. Before his 30th birthday, the officer did not live only 6 days... In captivity, Ivan Dubinin-Slavinsky showed real heroism: despite the repressions directed against him in his youth by the Soviet authorities, the officer remained faithful to the oath, and, refusing to be recruited into the Cossack units of the Wehrmacht, preferred death by starvation.

Dudin Timofey Ilyich_x000D_ _x000D_ Rank: major. Branch of military: army, air force (except marine aviation), the coast guard, the troops of the NKVD border troops. Division: 12th division of the NKVD troops for the protection of especially important industrial enterprises. From the document of the Secretariat of the Deputy. The NKVD (the troops): Dudin Timofey Ilyich (21.01.1892-19.10.1944), representative of the command and commanding staff of the OGPU-NKVD, major. Born on January 21, 1892, a native of the North Dvina province, Nikolsky uyezd, d. Surovtsy. He served in the Tsarist army. Participated in the First World war and the Civil war. In 1941, major T. I. Dudin was the head of the 4th Department of the headquarters of the 12th Libavsky border detachment of the PV NKVD of the Baltic district. Participant of the great Patriotic war from 22.6.1941 during the defense of Libava. He went missing no later than 24.11.1941. (RGVA f. 32880 op. 1D.147 l. 561) Major T. I. Dudin was captured on July 01, 1941 in Riga. He died in the Stalag 350 pow camp on October 19, 1944 during an air RAID. In the questionnaire, he reported the place of birth of the KGB And indicated the last place of service of the 13th SD, the military rank of major. The fact of service in the NKVD PV before the enemy was not disclosed. He was awarded the St. George cross of the 1st degree (in fact, his great-grandfather was awarded 4 crosses, but they had to be hidden from the Soviet authorities). From the memoirs of major V. I. Yakushev, former head of the 12th Libavsky border detachment of the NKVD of the Baltic district: "Now for the third time he had to take up arms. Major T. I. Dudin went to break through the enemy encirclement, hiding the banner of our border guard under his tunic. T. I. Dudin was a highly disciplined commander and a very modest man. From the stories of the border guards who managed to break out of the encirclement, it is clear that among them was major Dudin, who was seen in the forests of Kurzeme. What was his fate? One of the border guards wrote to me after the war that Dudin was allegedly captured. I have known Dudin for many years from working together and am convinced that the banner did not fall into the hands of the enemy. ""in June of the forty-first..." (Pages of the heroic defense of Liepaja) RIGA "AVOTS", 1986 From the data of OBD-memorial. Captured on July 1, 1941 in the battle to defend the capital of Latvia, Riga. Died in captivity. Immortalized in the book Of memory of border guards (vol . 1), but as allegedly lost in the mythical Riga oflag-53 (actually stationed in the Memel region of East Prussia), and not in the Bavarian oflag-13D. My great-grandfather was buried in Germany, in the city of Nuremberg, in the southern cemetery, 19 plate, 74 table.

Denega (Denegin) Mikhail Fedorovich_x000D_ _x000D_ Rank: Red army soldier I want to tell you about my great - grandfather-Denegin Mikhail Fedorovich. He was born on February 14, 1910 in Pyatigorsk. His parents died, so he was raised by his own uncle. He studied, and at the age of 16 became the Chairman of the collective farm. In 1938, my great-grandfather worked as the Chairman of the collective farm. It was a terrible time! There was a lot of treachery and cruelty in the country, people were exiled and shot on false denunciations. The VGKCHP ordered my great-grandfather to make a list of "Traitors, Enemies of the People", but Mikhail Fyodorovich did not do this, he warned all these people at night and, taking his family, left the collective farm for Mineralnye Vody. By doing so, I saved the lives of these people and my family. All his life he hated meanness and betrayal! In the summer of 1941, he was taken to the front from the Smolensk region. 2 hard years great-grandfather fought, fighting for the Motherland. When he went to war, he had a wife and three children... But in 1941, he received news that the village where the family lived was burned by the Nazis, and no one was left alive. In August 1943, Mikhail Fedorovich was captured and ended up in the Koningsberg concentration camp in the city of Koningsberg, now the city of Kaliningrad. In 1945, shortly before the victory of our army, he managed to escape from captivity. After the war, his fate did not spoil. In 1948, he remarried and had four children, including my grandmother. But soon the great-grandfather found out that his children, who allegedly died, are alive! And they came to him! But after a while, his wife dies, and he had to raise seven children alone. But, despite all the difficulties, Mikhail Fedorovich did not leave them, and devoted his entire life to raising children. Great-grandfather brought up in them honesty, decency, love for one's neighbor, for the Motherland, taught them to lend a helping hand, and most importantly-to live for others, not for themselves. For me, my great-grandfather is a hero! His post-war life proved that he is A man with a capital letter. My great-grandfather has many medals and orders, including two orders of the red Star, for personal courage and bravery in battle. Having lived a difficult life, great-grandfather always remained worthy of respect. He died on March 23, 1993. I'm proud of my great-grandfather and I want to be like him!

Doschinskaya Olga Petrovna_x000D_ _x000D_ The subject of my essay was not chosen by chance. Since childhood, I have heard many unique stories from my great-grandmother about distant and near relatives during the great Patriotic war. The family archive has preserved many documents and diary entries, orders and medals of my relatives. Last year, unfortunately, I lost my great-grandmother Olga Petrovna Doschinskaya, who was a witness of those times. I set a goal – to collect everything together, to systematize the material, to show the contribution of my ancestors to the defeat of fascism. Before me, my mother Nadezhda Chernyshova did this. I decided to continue my research on the genealogy of the Doschinsky, Serpukhov, and Chernyshov families. When writing the work, I visited the Krasnodar military enlistment office, where I was given the characteristics and certificates of veterans of the great Patriotic war Nadezhda Petrovna and Sergey Pavlovich Serpukhov. I had to work with the diary entries of my great-great-grandmother Nadezhda Petrovna Serpukhova. Three years ago, when I visited my great-grandmother Olga Petrovna Doschinskaya in Krasnodar when she was still alive, I recorded her memories of the life of relatives during the great Patriotic war. The work was quite long and painstaking. However, I believe that I did everything possible to restore the overall picture. I think that my research will help my descendants to re-comprehend the tragedy of the events of the 1940s, to study. There are fewer and fewer participants in the great Patriotic war-direct and direct creators of Victory, who bore on their shoulders the incredibly heavy burden of that harsh time: wounds and age take their toll. However, over time, people's interest in events more than seventy years ago does not weaken, but, on the contrary, increases. The military past appears as a time of great endurance and unparalleled heroism. The great cannot be forgotten. Time will never erase the great Patriotic war from the memory of generations. The years 1941-1945 were included in the biography of the Soviet people as heroic years, full of events of world-historical significance. They were a severe test of people's viability. For four years, gigantic battles continued on the Soviet-German front – the main front of the battle against fascism. It was here that the destinies and independence of the peoples of the earth and the future of all mankind were at stake. The Victory in the great Patriotic war was won at the cost of 20 million lives of Soviet people and the incredible effort of the physical and spiritual forces of the people of our country. The terrible and heroic years of the great Patriotic war are moving further into the past. But the memory of those who blocked the path of fascism and, having crushed its chosen hordes, defended their Fatherland and saved world civilization, will live forever in our grateful hearts of all progressive humanity. * * * My great-great-grandmother, Olga Petrovna Doschinskaya, born in 1926, lived in the city of Krasnodar. In 2019, at the age of 93, she died of natural causes. "When the war started," says great – great-grandmother Olya, " I was 15, my sister Nadia was 18, and Feodora was 19. Everyone submitted a voluntary application to the military enlistment office with a request to be sent to the front, but they did not take me and Nadia, because we were very small and thin. We lived in an orphanage that was destroyed, and my sister Nadia and I scattered to the huts of the population. I, Nadia and Fenya got to Baba Ganna, she still had four children, and her husband went to the front. The Germans entered, drove everyone out of their huts and houses, and began to select young girls and women to be taken to Germany to work. So, my older sister Feodora was sent to a concentration camp in the first weeks of the war and was a prisoner of war until 1945. In 1945, it was liberated by the Soviet Army. Nadya and I lived with Baba Ganna, who was often visited by partisans. All the children were sitting on a huge Russian stove, hiding from the Germans, and eating very sparsely, since all the pigs and chickens were taken by the Germans. One day an old teacher came and suggested that one of the children run to the forest to join the partisans in the Batki detachment. Nadezhda was the oldest and weakest, but she volunteered to go to the forest. It was winter, Nadia went to the forest and was able to find the signs of the squad, completed the task. I came home with a young partisan Sergey Serpukhov. All my youth, my sister and Sergey were scouts in a partisan detachment. Before the arrival of the Soviet Army in the village of Bronniki, where I lived, I occasionally helped my sister, but mostly on the farm Baba Ganna. We baked bread for the partisans and provided them with vegetables and fruits. And when our Soviet Army came, I went to work as a hospital nurse. With medical units I reached Berlin, I have orders and medals, many of them I took out from the battlefield, one of them, Ivan, I married. Now I live in the city of Krasnodar, still alive, but very ill, had seven operations. My sisters and their husbands are already dead. The military enlistment office gave them free marble monuments. How hard it was to live, scary and difficult! There are a lot of sick and injured people, there are not enough bandages, and there are almost no medicines. We operated in field tents under lamps, starved. The wounded were given at least some soup, and themselves – what remains. I still get goosebumps when I remember the terrible lacerations, inhuman torments and moans. Beautiful young men were dying; they didn't have time to bury them, and you would lock your teeth and bind up a handsome man who no longer had arms or legs, and his face was paralyzed. When I remember-everything is before my eyes, as it was yesterday. I still can't move away from this horror. Listen to this, great-grandchild. It's a shame that now, instead of a real story, young people are interested in detectives, mocking the Holy places. And we lived like this. As I said, the Soviet Army liberated our village of Broniki. I went to the hospital to help the sick. I was entrusted first to wash the floors, wash the bandages. Then I got used to it – reluctantly, I could hide my pain from the wounded, I stopped fainting at the sight of lacerations, huge pools of blood, and I was entrusted to do bandages, duty. Here I am on duty, I hear the moans of patients, and one-a very quiet and rare moan. I went to the patient-a young Lieutenant is lying, wincing from pain and does not look me in the eye, all burning – high temperature. I ran to find the doctor, to do this, we need to go around all the tents. Our doctor Nikitina Allochka could do everything, because she was an assistant to the famous doctor who was killed, Pavel Ivanovich Kolesnikov. He performed operations in a field tent, bullets whizzing around, and Pavel Ivanovich won't even blink an eye. Just look at us, and the horror takes, was not afraid of anything and kept discipline in strictness. A few days ago, a bomb fell directly into the tent with the red cross. Everyone died. Allochka and the other nurses and I were in other tents. With great difficulty, the remains of our dear Pavel Ivanovich's body were pieced together and buried with honor. All the wounded and seriously ill people were crying their eyes out. He saved all their lives, and he died as a hero. After that, our now-surgeon, Alla, began to perform operations. She was 30 years old, and we were 13-16 years old. We stayed there for about a month. Then they sent Nikolai Mefodyevich bulb to the place of the doctor. This doctor was almost like Pavel Ivanovich in everything-gray-haired, strict, did not spare himself, was always near patients, performed operations. So, I found Allochka, we quickly brought down the Lieutenant's temperature, made bandages and calmed down as best we could. Meanwhile, the fighting continued, the German retreated, and we followed our troops closely. I had to pull a lot of fighters out of the battlefield: I drag them like a bag, the man almost does not move, but says: "Leave me, little sister! You won't make it!" And I'm 1 meter 52 centimeters tall, small, skinny, I drag and cry, sit down, cry a lot, and again I drag on myself and drag. And there, near the hospital, they will notice me and help me, give me back and go back to the field for the wounded. So, I dragged a huge red-haired guy, gave it to him, and ran away. And the next day I sweep the floor, I hear a moan and a call: "Sister!", I quickly ran, I look-lies all in blood, the head is wounded, all bandages are stained with blood, and smiling says: "You are my fairy Savior!" So, it remained in my memory. Many people considered me their Savior, thanked me, offered my hand and heart, but this red-haired Ivan got into my heart. Already near Berlin, a red-haired soldier is being brought in, almost a corpse, and I immediately recognized him as the red-haired Ivan. Fate has brought us together again. Barely left him, and he went back to the front. We have already equipped a hospital and were not located in tents, but all in schools and in homes. But there was still a shortage of bandages, medicines, and food. Operations were performed live: in the teeth of a sick piece of wood, so as not to break the teeth from the pain. Tears choked, but it was forbidden to cry. We smiled and sang songs in the evenings. I was already an experienced, real nurse. I remember that on New year's eve they built a Christmas tree from an ordinary tree, decorated it with cotton wool, syringes, and patients made various toys from medical supplies. We even organized an evening of Amateur performances, which was attended by doctors, nurses, nurses, and patients. It was a lot of fun. As a gift to the sick, we sang songs and danced to the sound of spoons. The patients ' eyes shone and smiles appeared on their haggard faces. It was beautiful. But the fighting continued, explosions and gunfire were heard, and the German retreated reluctantly. Nurses and nurses washed bandages, rolled them up, and also washed the bed and clothes. Everyone got it, but we were healthy, young and very much believed in a happy future, in the victory of the Soviet people over fascism. And this faith helped us survive the war. As I remember now, there is a battle going on, the ground is "torn apart" from the explosions of bombs and shells. We, young girls who are not engaged in operations, crawled and climbed on this moaning, blood-soaked, with the roots of trees and bushes turned out, and searched, picked up, dragged on ourselves the crippled, already insensible fighters. A soldier lies with his eyes closed and moans, I tell him: "Kasatik, let's go! Get up, help me carry you!", and he can't hear or see anything from the concussion, his leg is broken. What to do? No time to think, I dragged him closer to the hospital. We fall, get up again, and he tries to help me with one of his legs and cries, saying: "I'm almost a corpse, leave me, maybe you can save someone else..." I cry and drag, there are a hundred meters left, now they have already seen me, helped me. And again, I'm on the front line, on the battlefield, for the next patient. And so, every day. A beautiful young soldier is lying there, holding his torn stomach with his hands, all the intestines are lying outside, but he is still alive. Reluctantly, I shoved the spilled entrails in, then carefully tied up his shirt so that I could pull him out alive. I hear the whoosh of bullets, I Crouch down, I already knew which bullet was flying past, and which was mine. But fate saved me from death. During the three years of the war, I was wounded seven times by shrapnel from a bullet or grenade. I had a lot of operations, as I earned by carrying the wounded, herniated spine and abdominal cavity. Already in Berlin, a fragment hit the spine. I thought I wouldn't go. The fragment was successfully removed, and I started walking again and helping my sisters. I look, my red-haired Ivan is lying-again all in bandages. We immediately recognized each other, met as family, and decided not to part again until the day we died. So, I got married. We lived in love and harmony for ten years. Then he died of his wounds, which never stopped whining. And I was left alone with my sores and memories.

Deryabin Alexei Yakovlevich_x000D_ _x000D_ Alexei Yakovlevich Deryabin was born in 1925 in the village of Nikitovka of the Krasnoarmeysky rural settlement of the Oryol region. He was the sixth and youngest child in the family. At the beginning of the war, he was not yet 16 years old. He lived with an elderly mother. In October, they were under occupation. It was a cruel time, people suffered a lot, especially from German soldiers. In February 1943, Alexei, along with his mother and fellow villagers, was forcibly taken by the Germans to Belarus (Minsk region, Rudynensky district, village of Dudichi), where they were kept in a camp. Because of the inhumane conditions, unwillingness to work for the Nazis, he escaped from the camp and after a while found a connection with the partisans. On January 15, 1944, he was officially accepted as an ordinary partisan in the M.M. Gromov detachment of the Burevestnik brigade of the Minsk region. He spoke sparingly about how they went on missions to blow up enemy warehouses, how they hid from brutal raids, sat for days in the swamp slush, how he dragged a wounded commander, about the loyalty and mutual assistance of their comrades. During the liberation of Belarus by regular troops, the partisans actively helped to destroy the enemy. In July, Alexei Yakovlevich was wounded and sent to the rear for treatment. Later, he was awarded the USSR medal as a partisan and member of the underground, most distinguished in the fight against the Nazi invaders during the great Patriotic war of 1941-1945. From September 1944, he fought on the second Belorussian front as part of the 1903 artillery regiment, first as a cadet and then as a gun commander. Ended the war in Vienna. Has awards: "For the capture of Vienna"; "for the victory over Germany in the great Patriotic war of 1941-1945" and many commemorative medals. At the end of the war, he served in Western Ukraine and was discharged in March 1948. After the war, Alexei Yakovlevich returned to his Homeland and lived there until his death. He had four children, worked as a machine operator, and mastered all types of equipment. As an advanced combine harvester, he was sent to harvest crops in the Altai territory. For good work, he was awarded the medal "for valiant labor".

Deryagin Peter Mikhailovich_x000D_ _x000D_ In August 1941, my great-grandfather Deryagin Peter Mikhailovich went to the front in the infantry troops from the village of Pecherino in the Kotlas district of the Arkhangelsk region. At Leningrad in the autumn of the same year, his army under the command of General Vlasov was surrounded. Then the survivors, exhausted soldiers of the red Army were captured by the Germans. The Germans were taking prisoners of war, including my great-grandfather, to East Prussia. The camp was located near the city of Koenigsberg (now Kaliningrad). For two years and nine months, my great-grandfather was held captive. My great-grandfather met the victory at Kenigsberg. He returned home in November 1945. And when the Red Army went on the offensive, our scouts came across a place where prisoners of war worked, including my great-grandfather. The scouts disarmed the German guards gave the call letters to go across the front line. And then at night those who could still move, who had enough strength, crossed the front line and found themselves at our side. A lot of our soldiers died in the camp because of the terrible famine. Those who were able to survive survived thanks to a bag of crackers they found in the field where they were working. And those who worked in that place did not take this bag to the camp, but hid it, and every day they took honestly a cracker. After crossing the front line, my great-grandfather and all those who escaped were checked and interrogated for a long time. Then they gave me two weeks off, and then they sent me to the front. They were sent to a regular company, not to the penal battalion. My great-grandfather met the victory at Kenigsberg. He returned home in November 1945.

Ramzaev Ivan Vasilyevich_x000D_ _x000D_ Rank: Corporal Type of troops: Artillery Division: 228th rifle Voznesenskaya red banner order of Suvorov division My grandfather, Ivan Vasilyevich Ramzaev, a native of the village of Tergala, Pokhvistnevsky district, Kuibyshev region, was born in a family of peasants, received a secondary special education in the specialty "Agronomist", a member of the CPSU, from 1937 to 1940 worked as an agronomist, senior agronomist of the Sorochinsky bases of the state transport Fund of the Chkalov region. From 1940 he served as a scout of the 410th art. regiment, from 1940 to 1942 as a scout of the 57th art. regiment, was in German captivity in Romania, from 1944 to 1945. He served as a scout, then as a computer of the 669th artillery order of Alexander Nevsky regiment of the 228th Voznesenskaya rifle division. From 1945 to 1946, he served as a computer scientist, then as a senior clerk of the 414-howitzer artillery regiment. In May 1945, he was awarded the medal "for military merit". From April 1946 to 1948, he worked as a senior agronomist of the Sorochinskaya SEM. base Heartford, since 1948 he was in charge of the laboratory, since 1950 he worked as an agronomist of a special farm, since 1953 he worked as an agronomist of the Novouran MTS of the Luxembourg region. Since 1954, he worked as the Chairman of the collective farm. Kirova, Luxemburg district, since 1955 - agronomist of the collective farm. Kalinin, then agronomist of the collective farm of Stalin of the Luxembourg district. He lived a decent and honest life as a scientist-agronomist, red army soldier, scout, gunner and computer scientist, leader, kind and loving husband, father of three children, a son and two daughters. A worthy example for grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Rodionova (Slavorosova) Anna Nikolaevna_x000D_ _x000D_ She was born in 1902 in Vologda in a family of middle-class citizens. The eldest daughter in a family with 5 girls and 1 boy. She met her husband Alexander Filippovich Rodionov when she was a nurse in the 6th Army, which was advancing to Arkhangelsk. She became the wife of an officer, sharing a nomadic lifestyle with him. Since 1932, the family lived in Pskov. At the time of the war, they were in winter apartments in the city and were going to spend the summer in Belostok to visit her husband (after graduation, their eldest daughter Tamara). 2 weeks after the start of the war, the Germans occupied Pskov and began repressive measures against the families of the command staff, who were caught and shot, imprisoned and driven to the West. Anna Nikolaevna did not escape this fate and in 1942 was taken by the Germans to prison. Daughter Tamara was sent to a concentration camp in Gdansk, and Anna Nikolaevna herself, with her daughter Vera, 7 years old, and her infant daughter Nadezhda, was taken to the Baltic States to the town of Yampels, where she was forced to work with her children. At the end of March 1945, they were released from captivity by the Red Army. They returned to peaceful life in Pskov, where the house was destroyed, there was no housing and they were sheltered by the monks of the Cathedral on the territory of the Pskov monastery. Anna Nikolaevna was looking for her husband with all her might. After the war, she met a family friend, and he said to her: - Anya, give up all hope. It was all over on June 22, 1941. This was another blow to her. After going through all the torments of captivity, it was necessary to raise the rescued children and learn to live again. She never got married again, and she gave all of herself to her daughters. Rodionova Marina, granddaughter.

Romanenko Vasily Mikhailovich_x000D_ _x000D_ During the Great Patriotic war, he served in Belarus as the head of the special Department of cavalry intelligence. In 1942, he was surrounded. Through the Belarusian forests, he broke through to his own. He was seriously wounded, shell-shocked, and captured. He escaped from captivity, but unsuccessfully. Another captivity - and now a concentration camp in Norway. Blood was taken from prisoners of war all the time. Vasily began to weaken, saved by the fact that he was transferred to a farm to take care of pigs. When our ships from the sea began to bomb Norway, all the prisoners of war were herded back to the camp. They were going to destroy them all, but the Soviet sailors arrived in time. When our prisoners of war were released, none of them could leave the camp on their own feet. The sailors carried them out on their hands and loaded them on boats. Until 1946, he was treated in various hospitals. He returned to his native village of Romanovskaya in the Rostov region. His wife, having received a funeral certificate for him at the beginning of the war, married. It was hard to get into a new life, because they did not like those who were in captivity. A literate man, in the past, a lawyer, but who lost his party card (when in 1942 he broke out of the encirclement, buried the party card in the forest), Vasily Mikhailovich was deprived of the Rank of Communist. But, having a firm character, Vasily Mikhailovich did not shy away from any work: at the dairy, as a carpenter, as a school caretaker. The girl Vera fell in love with Vasily and was not afraid to marry him. So, Vasily Mikhailovich in his fortieth year of life had a new family. He was a self-taught musician: he played the accordion, trumpet, flute and clarinet. He created a brass band at the house of culture. Then his hobby, music, became a second profession. In 1963. restored to the party.

Volokhova Nina Andreyevna_x000D_ _x000D_ My grandmother Volokhova (Aleynikova) Nina Andreyevna was born on July 9, 1924 in the village of Simontovka in the Mglinsky district of the Bryansk region. Her father died before her grandmother was even born. My grandmother's mother, Fekla, did not marry for a long time. However, the parents of the deceased husband insisted on marriage, and the grandmother's mother married Sergey Denisenko , a young, handsome, educated miner and Baptist priest. After a while, four more girls and a boy were born in the new family, so it was decided to send little Nina to a neighboring village to be raised by her own grandparents, the parents of her own father. Grandfather and Baba, themselves being uneducated, did not particularly follow the fact that little Nina went to school, especially not particularly followed her progress and behavior. So Nina eventually dropped out of school, which was four kilometers away through the woods, finishing only four classes, and spent all her free time on her own. This course of events could not suit her stepfather-an intelligent, well-read, respected man. By the way, Nina's grandfather and grandmother did not want to hear about her parents taking her home, so my little grandmother's parents had to literally steal her away. The stepfather accepted Nina as his own child. I spent a lot of time studying the school curriculum with her, almost re-teaching her to read and write. Gradually, life returned to its former course, the grandmother began to go to school again, the younger sisters and brother grew up in a young family, and even the grandfather and the woman accepted the fact that Nina returned to her parents. However, evil fate did not want to leave the young family alone, and a black cloud once again hung over the Denisenko family. The Bolshevik authorities did not like the young, educated, ambitious Baptist priest, and one warm may evening the "black funnel" appeared outside the window... the Head of the family had just returned home after a shift at the mine - hungry, tired, not even having time to wash off the coal dust that had stuck to him during the day. The NKVD officers did not even let him change his clothes or take some things, they took him away in front of his crying wife and children, saying: "Don't cry, your folder will come back." He didn't come back. It would seem that this family has had enough trials, it's time to leave it alone, but then the war began. My grandmother, as the oldest, worked with her mother on the collective farm to get food on the cards for the younger ones, which was still not enough, so everything went into the food-rotten and frozen vegetables, potato peels, everything that could be cooked and eaten. In August 1941, the village of Simontovka was occupied by the Germans and together with the occupation began the most difficult and tragic days. During the day, the Germans and local policemen who helped them worked in the village-they shot, robbed, and stole women and children to Germany. At night, they were replaced by partisans-they also robbed, taking away those products that the Germans could not find. In the summer of 1942, my grandmother, among other women and children of her village, was sent to a concentration camp in Germany. Initially, the Germans also tried to send her younger sister Dina, who was three years younger than her grandmother, but at the last moment they left Dina because they decided that her mother would not be able to feed her four small children alone. So began three terrible long years of my grandmother's captivity. The camp was called Wiltsburg, it was located in the city of Stettin, it was a transit and sorting camp. A favorite pastime of the Germans was to pour ice water on the bunks where prisoners slept, so when my grandmother was finally sent as a servant to the house of a German family after sorting, it was a kind of liberation. In a German family, my grandmother did all the housework: she worked in the garden, looked after the chickens and pigs, and looked after the children. Human memory tends to erase all bitter and hard memories, leaving only light and pleasant ones, so my grandmother could not say anything bad about this family years later. Thinking back to those terrible days, she remembered how the hostess often repeated: "Shtalin bad!". Then there are memories of how she was released in the spring of forty-five, when she and other girls like her were hiding in Berlin basements from Soviet bombing, how they were waiting for her to be finally sent Home, how they heard the salute of victory on may 9, 1945 and roared, thinking that it was war again. How they crossed the Oder river, full of corpses of Soviet and German soldiers, how they drove captured German black-and-white cows Home, how they returned to their native village, how they restored the destroyed country, hunger, labor… My grandmother lived a long and difficult life, reaching the age of 87. I hope she lived it happily.

Vilenskaya Olga Petrovna_x000D_ _x000D_ A woman lived in Makashevka. A simple woman, just like everyone else. She was tall, plump, and her face was lined. She has clear eyes that radiate warmth and affection. It Wilenska Olga Petrovna. Olga Petrovna's life, at first glance, was no different from the lives of other women farmers. But if you listen carefully to the story of this woman, you will understand what a difficult path of the great Patriotic war she went through. When the war began, Olga Petrovna lived in the Donbass, in the city of Yenakievo. She worked at the factory as an assistant driver on a steam locomotive. "The first bombing at our factory was in August 1941, at exactly 22 hours and 45 minutes."Olga Petrovna recalled. There were many wounded, an alarm was raised, and after a while the plant began to be evacuated. But it was not possible to go by steam locomotive, because the railway was destroyed. A few days later, the Germans appeared in the city. Savage enemies killed residents, robbed, mocked. People, not wanting to give the enemy food, hid them. There was no limit to the enemy's atrocities. It got to the point that the Germans started burning houses. Our house was the ninth, and became the first, all the other houses were burned, " she said. "A lot of people came to us because they had nowhere to hide from the cold," Olga Petrovna recalled. The Germans remained in the Donbass. At that time, the enemy surrounded Stalingrad and advanced in almost all directions. He also dug in in the Donbass. Coal, bread, food-all this the enemy exported to Germany. The village where Olga Petrovna lived was surrounded by the enemy. The Germans came here to Rob and kill the inhabitants. Residents were not allowed to leave their homes, because the village was being shelled. ”One boy came out of the house and was immediately killed. They killed an innocent child, they killed him for going out on his own street, " says Olga Petrovna. So people lived for two and a half months. And in 1942, the Russian offensive began on all fronts. The offensive also began on the territory where Olga Petrovna lived. They were advancing on debaltseve. The village was left behind. Destroyed, burned, it stood alone in the Ukrainian steppe. People had nothing to live with. The enemy took the food. People left the cities for the villages. Olga Petrovna also left with her little brother, who was only 12 years old. She walked 245 km with her brother. Only 3 km to my family, only 3 km! There was a river on their way. And when Olga Petrovna tried to get around it, bullets fell. Shots were fired from all sides. So I had to go through the water. Who does not know what river in January. They came to the village cold, wet, and icy. Here Olga Petrovna fell ill. At home, she had to lie in bed while she recovered. Life in this village was quiet. The Germans left people to live in order to then steal them to distant Germany as labor. They sent echelon after echelon of young women to Germany. When the first train was sent, Olga Petrovna managed to hide, but then her neighbor, who was a policeman, gave her away. She was thrown into the carriage, which was ready for departure. The enemy had no regard for the old or the children. How many maternal tears, the screaming, the moaning. Mothers were separated from their infants. But how can enemies have pity? The train set off. The doors of the cars were locked, and people could only look out of the window through the bars. The first stop was in Poland. People were given a Cup of hot soup without bread. The second stop was in the city of Magdenburg. Here they were kicked out of the cars and sent to the transfer point. They lived in Magdenburgde for 5 days. Several people were taken by the factory owners, and 200 people, including Olga Petrovna, were sent to the city of Salzveden. There they were sent to work in a factory. They worked on the machines and were watched by old German women. Olga Petrovna recalled such an incident from life at the factory: "One day a German woman came up to me and began to feel my head, rummage in my hair. I asked her what she was doing, what she was looking for. And then, through an interpreter, she told me that she was watching horns. They say that Russian women all have horns, and I want to see them myself." Working at the factory was exhausting. The food was very poor. For Breakfast they gave half a liter of boiling water and 150 grams of bread, for lunch-soup with cabbage, and without bread, for dinner-again soup and bread. But despite this, Russian women did not lose heart. Hungry, they often gathered together, singing songs, joking and laughing. They were kept behind barbed wire in concentration camps. They didn't let them go anywhere, they took them to work with their dogs. At work, they were mocked and laughed at in every possible way. Each woman had a GST badge sewn on her jacket. All of them were known from lists. Who does not know what incredible crimes the Nazis committed on our land?! Then what can we say about the camps? There were camps on German soil. The enemies came up with different punishments. They burned stars on the backs of our women, put a hot light bulb to their lips, pricked them with needles under their nails, beat them with red-hot rods, took them barefoot to the snow and doused them with ice water, burned them in burning stoves. Is it possible to know all the atrocities committed by the enemy? And here in such a camp, amid bullying and torment, Olga Petrovna lived for three and a half years away from the city and her relatives. But this did not break the Russian woman. Olga Petrovna returned to our village, created a family, and worked conscientiously on the collective farm. Makasana remember her kind words.

Full name: Prosekov Pavel Trofimovich last NAME: Prosekov FIRST name: Pavel PATRONYMIC: Trofimovich CITY: Sungrovo Mokrousovsky district Kurgan region date of BIRTH: 01.01.1898 DATE of DEATH: 03.04.1983 HISTORY: Rank: Corporal. Branch of service: army, air force (except marine aviation), the coast guard, the troops of the NKVD border troops. Division: 149th rifle division (1st formation). THERE WAS A SOLDIER IN SUNGUROVA. The more you deal with the list of prisoners of war who died on the battlefield or in captivity, less often, survivors of the great Patriotic war, the more often there are names that are truly worthy of being told about them. Pavel Trofimovich Prosekov. In the 60s and 70s, veterans like him were not talked about. It was not customary to make public former prisoners of war. He was not invited to schools for pioneer training camps, to labor collectives on victory Days, and he was not eager, mostly silent, but he drank a glass of red wine on may 9 with his family, and with tears in his voice said: "Well, mother, another year of our victory has passed! Ex, life...". The soldier was mourned three times in the family during the war, because twice he received notifications that he was missing,and the third was a funeral. Once upon a time there was a man. He was born on a cold winter morning in 1898 in the village of Sungurovo, in the Mokrousovsky region of Tobolsk province. A large peasant family, but children died before they were a year old, as happened in almost every home at that time. This is understandable: how could a paramedic come to be in the rural hinterland, when even in Mokrousovo, a large village that stood 25 versts from Sungurovo, he was absent. Babies sometimes died of dysentery, or were born with a baby, or something else happened. When Pavel was one year old, the Prosekovs breathed a sigh of relief, well, so the Lord granted him a long life. And so it turned out. He did not receive any education, but only completed three classes in a parochial school. They taught me to write and count, and thank God! From the age of 10, I helped my parents with household chores. To the cattle of hay to throw a navilnichek in a fit, water from the lake to train small buckets, from a kitchen garden to help the mother to weed different grass. For a jug of milk into the cellar to climb Yes a frog with milk to get the wretch. Pavlushka was afraid of cold, slippery ones, but father Trofim shamed them, saying that it was not good for peasants to be afraid to take any small toadstool in their hands. Then the peasants always threw frogs in the crinkles with milk, so that it was cold in the hot afternoon, they did not disdain. The host rotten family Prasekolah. Mostly in the barnyard. The father shepherded, the mother took care of the bird from morning to evening, went to mow for the master's cattle. The revolution came unexpectedly to the TRANS-Ural village. And two years later than in the Central part of Russia. No sooner did they Wake up from the innovations, from the artels created everywhere, where the whole family later worked, than Pavel turned 19 and was drafted into the army. in red. The guy almost served his term, but in 1923 Kolchak pretty much walked around the steppe expanses, joined the militia. The gangs of Lieutenant Lisovsky, an associate of Kolchak, went to Sungurovo twice: they slaughtered cattle, searched for Bolsheviks, and hung them on roadside poles. Much blood was shed during the time of troubles. But fate protected Pavel Prosekov even in that turbulent time-bullets flew past, the saber never rang over his ear. Although more than once, and not twice participated in attacks against forest bandits that hid in the surrounding forests and harmed villages. The gangs were driven from their native land. He came with his wife, young Marfa, to the first created collective farm, which was called by a big name, "Socialism". Husbandman. The children, as after a warm, fertile mushroom rain, began to sprout. Fortunately, the hut allowed. First mishenka, the first – born, was born, and three years later Polinka, the daughter, was born. Two years later, Valyushka was born, then again the sons went-Vasily, Nikolay. He brought two cows to the yard, and a farmer took up the plow. Only just started to live more freely, it seems, but the loudspeakers sounded: "War!". In 1941, they gave him a reservation, because he was a master skilled in iron-plows, ploughshares got along for the collective farm, worked on a tractor, after completing the appropriate courses. But in 1942, he still received a summons from the military enlistment office. Left small their krawinkel together with his wife Martha Paul on roadside path, and walk in Mokrousovo, along with other recruits left. As it turned out later, for as long as 2 years, which seemed like a ten-year period, since the soldier suffered a lot of ordeals during this time. First, they sent the recruits to the recruiting station in Kurgan, where the next division was being formed, then for some reason they were thrown into Chelyabinsk in teplushki, and a few days later they were returned with a replenishment - Siberians and far Easterners. If only the soldiers would know that they were going to pass through Lebyazhye station, they would have sent at least some news to their wives to come to the platform to see them. Yes, where there! Not up to date then it was! They took soldiers to Moscow by direct overtaking, who had windings on their feet instead of boots, and English boots. There were not enough uniforms in the warehouse for them, called up from peasant villages. And what to do - what they put on, that's what they fought in! Pavel Trofimovich Prosekov took his first fight as part of 61 Arm. 744 SP 149 SD on the Oryol direction. Here is a reference from Wikipedia about the glorious battle path of the 149th, which included the 744 rifle regiment (SP): "during the battle of Moscow, it participated in offensive operations in the Bolkhovsky and Oryol directions. From the spring of 1942 to the middle of 1943, on the Bryansk and Western fronts, she conducted defensive and offensive battles South and southwest of Belev, and as part of the Bryansk front, she participated in the Orel operation in July — August 1943." It was during this period that Pyotr Prosekov was wounded for the first time. Picked up on the battlefield orderlies of another part, who were doing a sweep after a bloody fight. And with his own, native regiment, flew home a funeral, in which the commander wrote that the red army soldier Prosekov was killed near the village of Annino in the Oryol region, and was buried there. We don't know by what parameters the fathers-commanders determined the actual death of their soldiers and the fact of their burial, but the search engines know how the dead were buried on the battlefields then and later they reported in their reports. Thousands of such cases are in the Central archive of the Ministry of Defense. 51948264 Information from the report of irretrievable losses. Last Name: Prosekov. Name: Pavel. Middle Name: Trofimovich. Date of birth/Age __. __.1898 date and place of call: Mokrousovsky RVC, Chelyabinsk region, Mokrousovsky R-n. Last place of service: 61 Arm. 744 SP 149 SD Military rank red army soldier. Reason for retirement: killed. Date of disposal: 05.04.1942. The primary place of burial: Orel region, Ulyanovsk R-n, d. Annino [.Name of the information source CAMO information source Fund Number 58 information source inventory Number 818883 information source case Number 1076https:/ / obd-memorial. ru / html/info. htm? id=51948264B [ http://obd-memorial.ru/html/info.htm?id=51948264В a middle-aged soldier was patched up in a mobile field hospital and sent to the runway. On the last day of his stay in the hospital, he wrote a letter home that "he is alive and well, which I wish you...". How they took this news, now we do not know. But I assume that Martha's wife prayed at the images all night, thanking the mother of God for her living husband. Formed on the runway reserve battalion of lightly wounded, like him, somehow moved away from the first impressions of the war, was taken to the southern direction. Joined the soldier on the 2 Ukrainian front in 1176 SP 350 SD, Voronezh direction (so in the document - from 5.04.42 to 14.08.42). Put it to the battery charger. The shells were "fueled" by our countryman mortars. The strength, thank God, was enough for this. And experience in grueling work, too. He did not bow to counter-explosions, and was reputed to be mighty and hardy. Presented to the award of our countryman for effort in combat service-the medal "for military merit". ( The order of the division was signed on 28.01.43).An extract from the award list States that from " December 12, 1942 for the localities of Dorozovka, Krasny Klyuch, Dmitrovka and Pasyukovo (soldier) showed exceptional dedication. Thanks to his dedication, there was not a single delay or misfire. During the withdrawal, he managed to take out the material part" ... they Did not have time to award the medal to the soldier Prosekov, as the regiment with heavy fighting rolled back to the initial lines, then was surrounded. 51847865 Information from the report on irretrievable losses last name Prosekov First name Pavel Patronymic Trofimovich date of birth/Age __. __.1898 Place of birth Chelyabinsk region, Mokrousovsky district date and place of conscription Mokrousovsky RVC, Chelyabinsk region., Mokrousovsky district Last place of service ZF 1176 SP 350 SD Military rank red army soldier Reason for departure missing date of departure 14.08.1942 Name of the information source CAMO number of the information source Fund 58 number of the information source inventory 818883 case Number of the information source 1177https://obd-memorial.ru/html/info.htm?id=5184786552042890information [ http://obd-memorial.ru/html/info.htm?id=5184786552042890Информация ] from the report of irretrievable lossfamily Prosekov First name Pavel Patronymic Trofimovich date of birth/Age __. __.1898 Place of birth Chelyabinsk region., Mokrousovsky R-n, the date and place of recruitment Mokrousovsky RVC, Chelyabinsk region, Mokrousovsky R-n, the Last duty station headquarters 350 SD Military rank of soldier the Reason for disposal [b]missing date of retirement 14.08.1942 the Name of source TSAMO Fund Number source of information 58 inventory Number of 818883 source of information case Number source of information 1176https://obd-memorial.EN/html/info.htm?id=5204289063048864Информация [ http://obd-memorial.ru/html/info.htm?id=5204289063048864Информация ] from reports of permanent paterfamilia Prosekov Name Paul middle name Trofimovich date of birth/Age __. __.1898 Last place of service 1176 JV Military rank soldier the Reason for disposal missing date of retirement 14.08.1942 the Name of source TSAMO Fund Number source of information 58 inventory Number of 977525 source of information case Number source of information 210https://obd-memorial.EN/html/info.htm?id=63048864 [ http://obd-memorial.ru/html/info.htm?id=63048864 ] Home, many years after the war, told the soldiers, as they were chosen by groups and individuals from the boiler, a miracle came to his own, not hitting to the Germans. And this case, he considered just luck in his fate in that situation. About that Pavel Trofimovich wrote home, not knowing that this letter would be his last before the captivity. In one of the fights, Pavel Trofimovich was severely concussed. He woke up only when the German picked him up. We found a card for the prisoner of war Prosekov:76903634 Information from documents specifying losses. Last name Prosekov first name Pavel Patronymic Trofimovich date and place of conscription Mokrousovsky RVC, Kurgan region, Mokrousovsky district Last place of service 3 Ukr. F 188 ZSP Military rank red army soldier Reason for retirement was captured (released) The name of source TSAMO Fund Number source of information 58 inventory Number of 18002 source of information case Number source of information 1610 (https://www.obd-memorial.ru/html/info.htm?id=76903634 [ https://www.obd-memorial.ru/html/info.htm?id=76903634 ] ). The date of the report is dated 23.10.1944. During his captivity, in the remote TRANS-Ural village again came to the village Council official paper from the part that" went missing " their fellow villager. The commander of the unit reported to the higher-ranking staff. At the headquarters of 350 SD, soldiers who did not leave the battle were sent to the military enlistment offices at their place of residence. If the soldier hadn't lost consciousness then, maybe he would have saved himself from another ordeal. But, apparently, the Lord gave him one more test, as if checking on the fortress. It was very cold in the barracks where the prisoners of war were being held, the room was not heated, wounds that had not healed ached, and hunger was tormenting. Pavel could not send news about himself to his native side, it was not easy to do so. They drove to different jobs – they cleaned the area from rubble and destroyed buildings, prisoners of war dragged stones and bricks, and put the territory in order.... It is not known for certain how, where and who released prisoners of war in early 1944. But after the liberation, Pavel Trofimovich got into the 188th reserve rifle regiment, and from there he was attached to the 1st military trophy brigade of the 62nd Guards rifle division of the second Ukrainian front. Not only did the soldiers pick up trophies after the offensive of our troops, but also participated in combat operations.The award list for 1946, already from the Mokrousovsky military enlistment office, "tells" how Prosekov in 1944, as part of 186 SP 62 GV. The SD, who showed heroism, courage and bravery in the battles for the city of Budapest, was seriously wounded. He was in the hospital for seven months, and that the soldier deserves the award-the medal"for bravery". Reading the award lists of our countrymen, written by the military Commissar of wartime S. Mokrousovo Lavrentiev, I involuntarily feel a tribute to this man. He did not lose sight of a single soldier who returned from the front wounded, but alive. In the awards, he scrupulously described all the events of the feats performed by them. How many awards, caught my eye, on the website "Feat of the people", signed by the military Commissar Lavrentiev and the first Secretary of the district party Committee Tarasov! Pavel Trofimovich Prosekov was put on the Commission because of a severe concussion and a clean wound to the thigh. At home, the medical military Commission gave a disability group, but a working one. The children had grown up in two and a half years without a father, and they had to be raised. Marfa was often ill because of overwork during the famine of the war. I went to work in the collective farm "Socialism". The current head of local self-government bodies, Nikolay Orlov, recalls the veteran: [b] "I remember him well, although I was still a kid. He worked conscientiously, and we children often gathered in his workshop, where he wove baskets out of willow twigs and made brooms for public use. At that time there were no factory sledges, and Pavel Trofimovich made them for us from the birch forest. We rode on a homemade sled made by his hands, remembering grandfather Pavel with a kind word."[/b]in Sungurovo, the collective farm "Socialism" was renamed im. Kirov. During this period of time, the veteran was awarded two medals at once in the military enlistment office- " for military merit "and" for bravery", modestly, without pomp. Found, after all, awards, fellow countryman! P. T. Prosekov died in his native village, from where he never left after the war. He was buried in the local cemetery, leaving behind a rich offspring.Now the veteran's daughter, Valentina, has a son, Viktor, who lives in Asbestos. It is he who keeps a genealogy of his kind, writes down the stories of old-timers of the village when he comes home on vacation. I also wrote down my memories of my grandfather. He says that there were a lot of light injuries, and only one serious one, when the hip and arm were damaged by shrapnel from a mine. In a shirt, they say, the grandfather was born. The veteran told his grandchildren during his lifetime tha_x000D_ he was surrounded and near Stalingrad, although I did not find any documentary evidence about this episode. Currently, two more grandsons of the veteran, the sons of the last son of Nikolay, Yuri and Pavel, live on the Central estate. The granddaughter of a veteran, she lives in the neighboring Lebyazhievsky district, in the village of Fox. But twice a year, a large family of Prosekovs gathers in their native nest in Sungurovo – on Parents ' day and victory Day, to visit the grave of their grandparents, who left behind a good growth – 11 grandchildren and 3 great-grandchildren. Indeed, there was a man who lived for a reason…The history of post-war life of a veteran told Zinaida Nikolaevna Ivacheva of Sungurova. She did not remain indifferent to the publication in the regional newspaper about the search for relatives of the soldier and responded.

01.01.1913 - 01.01.1996_x000D_ Rank: Red Army Soldier_x000D_ Branch of Service: Land Forces, Air Force (except for Naval Aviation), Coast Guard, NKVD troops, Border Guard._x000D_ Unit: 32nd Red Banner Rifle Division._x000D_ My grandmother's older brother, Alexey Polyakov was born in 1913 in the village of Pogorelovka, Volchkovsky Volost, Kozlovsky Uyezd, Tambov Province (today - Petrovsky, during the war - Volchkovsky District, Tambov Region), the 1st child in a large peasant family (eight children, two of whom died in infancy) of Kozma and Polyakov._x000D_ Education - primary, 4 classes. Mechanic. Son of an "enemy of the people" (father shot in 1938, posthumously rehabilitated). Passed active service in the period from 1933 to 1935, then worked on the construction of the Moscow metro. He was married, and his son Vladimir was born in 1941. (during the war). Called up by the Volchkovsky District Militart Commissariate of the Tambov Region on August 26, 1941 in the 113th Rifle Rediment of the 32nd Rifle Division. He fought as an ordinary rifleman in the infantry. Participated of the defense of Moscow. He was captured by Germans on January 5, 1942._x000D_ During this period, 32nd Rifle Division launched an offensive Northwest of the Naro-Fominsk District near the village of Obukhovo. According to his stories, everything happened as follows: "the German got into another counterattack. The fire was just a hurricane. Despite this, the officers persistently demanded to advance. But as soon as the soldiers got up from the trenches, we were literally "mowed down" by a hail of bullets and shrapnel. By chance, only a few people were left alive, including me. So he was captured... " As a prisoner of war, he worked for the burgher in what is now Poland. During the entire war, there was no news from him - in the winter of 1942, the family was handed a state notice of "missing persons". Released on May 3, 1945. Then he served in 218 AZSP as a tractor driver,-restored the city of Breslau (now Polish Wroclaw). Demobilized on December 12, 1945._x000D_ His sister, my grandmother, described return home in this way: "it was a common winter day. My mother went to a meeting of the village Council, only Shura (my sister) and I were at home. First they heard a knock, then Shura saw Alexey's silhouette through the window and screamed. There was so much joy! But time passes – and the mother is still not there. Alexey himself went to the village Council. It turned out that the mother could not pay some tax on time and boldly replied: "Where will I get the money? If someone had lost it, I would have found it and paid." The Chairman got angry with her and, along with a group of other defaulters (about 6 women), locked them in a back room after the meeting. When my brother found out about this, he went straight to the Chairman, took him by the breast and said, “While we were fighting there, you bullied our mothers here!” and made him let all the prisoners out of the back room."_x000D_ After the war, he was a construction worker._x000D_ Most of his life he lived in his native village, and in his old age he and his wife moved to Domodedovo, Moscow Region._x000D_ He didn't like to talk about the war. I remember him as a silent, modest and reserved person.