My grandfather-Mukhlis Gasimov, born in 1920, was drafted into the army in the fall of 1940. He served as a Junior Sergeant in an artillery regiment of the Soviet army. While serving, he met the war… Almost at Moscow, near Vyazma, in the early morning they were preparing to attack, but the Germans hit first with all the power of their artillery and split the ranks of our fighters. Suddenly the leg was burned, it turned out that the bullet was stuck in the thigh, and grandfather leaned against the gun, where he was standing as an artilleryman. Many of my grandfather's comrades died. Only a few people were left alive, and they ran into the forest, where they were overtaken by German machine gunners. So my grandfather was captured by the Germans in the autumn of 1941… Then they were driven along the road for a long time. It was very hard to walk, his leg hurt, he wanted to drink and eat, but he hobbled with all his strength,those who fell to the ground- was shot… October, cold, and all in summer uniforms,there was no strength from cold and hunger , for three days, thousands of people were driven on muddy roads. Finally, they were driven to Roslavl, given balands, and then sent to work. One day the prisoners were sent to pick cabbage, and grandfather decided to run away at all costs, although he knew that with a wounded leg it would not be easy. Hobbled to the woods and ran! He wandered through the forest for a long time, came across a Forester's house, he helped him - gave him a bed and fed him. Then he went to the village, people helped, who will feed, who will give drink. It was very difficult to break through unnoticed among the Germans, so one day he was captured again. The winter of 1941-1942 was harsh, and hundreds of prisoners died. My grandfather had a valuable pair of wooden-soled shoes, which he wrapped in rags to protect his feet from frostbite. Then he got to Poland, worked at a sugar factory, of course, life with" sugar " became more fun. Once he managed to escape from there as well. The warden had a daughter, his age, a Polish woman who did not understand Russian, but often communicated surreptitiously with her grandfather and even gave him a photo of herself. She helped him to escape! But at the train station, he was overtaken by a military patrol. In 1943, he was sent to Vienna as a prisoner of war. The city was constantly bombed, and the food was still very poor. In general, you can talk about his camp life for a long time, because it lasted from the beginning of the war until the spring of 1945, when they were released by the Americans . And their homeland did not meet them kindly. After all, Stalin said: "we have no prisoners, we have traitors." And again they were driven on foot, only their own. Then again, the NKVD camp, humiliating interrogations and checks. Finally, in the summer of 1946, he returned to his native land, safe and sound – it was a miracle! My grandfather did not like to remember the hard years of the war... And our family, honors the memory of my grandfather and his history during the war, we pass it by word of mouth. Grandfather lived a long life, not everything was easy, he worked hard and was a respected man, raised 3 daughters, and how many grandchildren and great-grandchildren now its hard to count. He died in 1996, at the age of 76. Our family carefully keeps his medals, orders, a note about our hero in the newspaper and the very photo of the Polish woman who helped him escape from captivity, because thanks to such people, even in the most difficult times, there is always hope and faith for the best!