Rank: Alexey Konstantinovich Krivoshev is a soldier in the Red Army, my uncle. Alexey Konstantinovich was born on October 1, 1923. Parents - Krivosheyev Konstantin Ivanovich and Krivosheva (Pastbina) Maria Osipovna. He completed the courses of deputy political officers in the city of Melekess and a volunteer went to the front. The date of conscription in the archives is 22.03.1942. Most likely he arrived to Sevastopol from Novorossiysk within the framework of reinforcements delivered by sea. Involved in the heroic defense of Sevastopol as part of the 388th rifle division of the 778th rifle regiment of the 1st company. He was responsible for the third devastating Nazi offensive to take the city, which began in June 1942. These were the days of the fiercest and bloodiest battles for the city. He wrote his last letter on 9 May, according to the postmark was sent on 10 June. In August 1942 A. K. Krivosheev disappeared. My grandmother waited for him all her life. Only before her death she ordered a prayer for rest for my uncle. In 1985 my aunt Valentina Chudinova wrote this verse about him. He grew up cheerful, mischievous, with an open, clear gaze. The boys were always there. They went skiing, skating and jumped out of the yar into the water, swung on branches in the forest and learned to shoot immediately. And in the sleepy river under the willow, he put a net in the bend, swung the broom lightly. He went to his father's horses. And it is true, from childhood on, his father awakened in him a love for horses, which he used to bathe in the river with a band during the summer holidays. And wanted to represent everything on father's farm in a scientific way. He studied books in the veterinary department. He also wanted to solve the riddle with the intelligent eye of nature, observe the solar eclipse. My brother was loved by friends, girlfriends, people, and the whole village said: He will be a good guy. What became of him, no one: he walked in the forty-first in the fire and black smoke. "Novorossiysk is a beautiful city," he wrote a letter to his mother. I wish I could follow the path my brother took in his youth. There was peace in the big cities, and only in Sevastopol difficulties were waiting for him. What difficulties? Who is the witness? Neither wounded nor killed. Perhaps reduced to ashes.