This story began before the war, in the warm southern Taganrog, when Alexandra, the young beauty, who was affectionately called Shurochka, met Ilya Korostelev, athletic and courageous athlete, who came from the far Urals and worked at an aircraft factory. The upcoming wedding was prevented by the war. He went to the front. She, expecting his child, stayed in the city, occupied by the enemies. She got news about the destiny of her beloved only after the liberation of Taganrog. It was sad: Ilya Korostelev's sister, Nadezhda, wrote to her from Satka, that he was missing. She found out, that Shura was raising little Igor Churganov, who, judging by the photos, looked exactly like his father, and gave her the most precious thing: the letter from the front, where the pilot hinted to the family about the one, waiting for his return. Alexandra Semyonovna Shelestova can’t cope with losing Igor. The photo, which she had got from Igor’s friends and where the one could read the faded note on the back: "On the memory of my dear son Igor and wife Shura", was in the most prominent place. The woman often stopped in front of the photo and whispered: "Thank you, Ilya, for your son." Only his last letter was keeping more carefully, than the photograph - in a tiny old reticule. "Good hour, happy minute, my little sister Valentina Petrovna and son-in-law Alexander Matveyevich! I send you my greetings and the best wishes for your young life. On the third of April, I had to go to the front lines to organize the interaction of our aviation with the ground troops, where I had to sit in the trenches for eleven days and to observe the war not only from the air. Sometimes it was really hot, but it's even hotter on the ground, when the shells are exploding around you and the machine gun is pouring a shower of fireworks. We also had to see the Germans more closely, as they came from their side to surrender when we were there. They are complaining that they are tired of winter, and I think that it is not only that. It was hot because of our bombing. We don’t give them rest day or night. When I arrived in Rostov from Proletarskaya, I visited Maria Ivanovna Danilova. I considered them evacuated, but it turns out that they did not have time, as it was necessary to evacuate the property of the Institute. So they had to survive, while the Germans were staying in the city. Yes, the enemies made a lot of misery during these seven days in Rostov. When you walk along the main street, you can't see the end of destroyed and burned buildings. Broken windows, looking as the black hollows… And in general, it is not the same beautiful city, as it was was a few months ago. With Maria Ivanovna, we tried to remember the day when Pavel Ivanovich and I arrived in Rostov, and our departure to Taganrog. It makes my soul ache about him. What happened with my relatives Anna Mikhailovna and Pavel Petrovich, who replaced my mother and father for a while? What happened with my friends? I left the friend of my life, and even more than just a friend.. I’m getting messages from everyone. I even got one from Pavel, but nothing from them. When I fly over Taganrog, for some reason my heart begins to ache, feeling the close nest, where I spent many happy days. Now I have been in Voronezh for three days. I like it: it’s clean and beautiful. There are theaters and cinemas. Yesterday I had to go to the circus, which I also liked a lot. In general, there is a place to spend time, but there is no time to spend at your own discretion. When we will done with this reptile, who tramples our sacred land with his dirty boot, we can have good time and enjoy ourselves. But for now, I will finish my little letter, so as not to bother you with reading it. Your Ilya. April 12, 1942»