Wednesday, February 21, 2024

Дни Рождения

 

     Какой замечательный праздник День Рождения. Тебя измеряют у косяка двери посмотреть, насколько ты вырос, насколько ты поправился, какие у тебя успехи. Все тебя хвалят и дают подарки.

    А потом, когда у тебя уже семья и дети, ты празднуешь всем им день рождения, готовишься, покупаешь подарки, и в суете забываешь, что у тебя тоже есть день рождения. И не важно, что он есть, ведь oт года k году ничего не меняется, всё как было в прошлом году, так будет и в будущем. Праздновать особенно нечего.

    Но приходит день, когда ты получaeшь самый большой подарок в жизни - Время. Oно становится твоим. Tакое счастье, что утром безжалостный диктатор Будильник уже не орёт “вскакивай и беги, чтобы всё успеть, всё сделать и не опоздать на работу”. Теперь ты лежишь в постели, слушаешь новости, решаешь мировые или даже вселенские проблемы, иногда что-то пишешь и составляешь план на сегодняшний день. У тебя есть ещё однo большое каждодневное удовольствие - чашка или даже две чашки кофе. В тёплую погоду ты пьёшь его на балконе, слушаешь пение птиц и радуешься вместе с ними солнцу и жизни.

    Но от годa к году энергия, зрение, слух, равновесие, память и скорость мышления уменьшаются, a время начинает бежать быстрее и быстрее. Вечером ты видишь, что ничего не успел сделать за день, даже не записал рассказик, который состряпал утром, потому что просто забыл его. Это уже совсем не важно.

    Tеперь дни рождения снова становятся праздниками. Ты получил от Cудьбы еще один год. Это несравненный подарок, и другие подарки тебе уже не нужны. Ты радуешься и надеешься, что Госпожа Удача будет великодушнoй и щедрой и даст тебе еще хотя бы один, а может даже несколько лет.










Monday, November 13, 2023

My guerrilla life

This is translation to my post Моя Партизанская жизнь” published on July 1, 2014. You can read this chapter, revised and expanded, in my book "Milestones of Russian history. Past and possible future of Russia"

Believe it or not, I was in the partisans. I was born shortly before the war. I don’t remember much myself, but for many years after the war, when Belarusians got together, especially after drinking, they remembered the war. So, I know a lot about life in Belarus during the war. Before the war, my father was drafted into the army. He served somewhere near Bialystok, near the Polish border.

The Germans, when they started the war on June 22, 1941, bypassed the unit where my father was and moved on, so that their unit ended up in the rear. There were no instructions on what to do next. So, everyone went their separate ways. My father went home. We then lived in a small village in the Byhov district, Mogilev region. This is in the east of Belarus. Dad had to walk from the Polish border to our village through almost the whole of Belarus. He walked at night, mostly through the forest, and slept during the day. It was summer, there were a lot of berries in the forest, and besides, I think my father was stealing vegetables from the gardens and that’s how he got home. He didn’t know if there were Germans in our village, so he lay in the garden until his sister came out of the house. He called her, found out that there were no Germans in our village and came home to my mother and me. We then lived separately from my father’s family, in our own hut.

When the Germans captured Belarus, they dissolved the collective farms. The peasants divided the property of the collective farms and worked, as they thought, for themselves, tirelessly. That year the harvest was excellent.

There were no Germans in our village. We only had one policeman. Everyone knew the policeman, he was a relative to everyone, because in Belarus the whole village is usually relatives, or godparents, or matchmakers. The policeman was supposed to report to the Germans about any changes in the village, but there was nothing special to report, since nothing happened. Everyone lived and worked.

And then in the spring or summer of 1942, someone killed a policeman. A great misfortune happened. Everyone knew that the Germans would send a punitive detachment and shoot all the inhabitants and burn the village. Such cases have already happened, and everyone knew about them. The whole village quickly loaded onto carts and went into the forest. My grandmother on my mother’s side said that she would never go to the forest. Her eldest daughter, Lexa (Alexandra), remained with her. My grandfather, Tit Minovich, took Lexa’s children, a boy and a girl, 5 and 7 years old, with him into the forest. There were only 17 people left in the village, mostly old women. Why did they leave grandma and Lexa? Because there was no time for arguing and persuasion. We had to leave before the Germans arrived.

The next day, when the residents went to see what had happened, they saw that the village had been burned. My grandmother prayed in the corner where her icons were and there she was found burnt. Lexa went out into the yard and was shot there. Who did such evil to the village - killed a policeman? It was not a village resident, because he knew what the punishment would be for this. His entire family would have died. This man would have to be crazy to do such a thing. In fact, policemen were usually killed by partisans. This was an easy way to increase the number of partisans. But then why did they choose our village? There were plenty of villages where the Germans did not stand and where it was very easy to kill a policeman. I don't know the answer to these questions. The village joined the 152nd partisan detachment of Mikhail Dmitrievich Gritsan.

When Stalin decided to create a partisan movement, all of Belarus was already occupied by the Germans. Gritsan was a career military man in Ukraine. He was sent to create a partisan detachment in Belarus, in the Bykovs region.

The partisans did not live crowdedly. There was a main settlement where the detachment's headquarters was located and there were several small settlements in different places scattered in the forest. My grandfather Maxim Kornienko worked and lived with his family in the detachment headquarters. My dad, mom, my sister, me and grandpa Titus, my mom’s father, with Aunt Lexa’s two children, settled about 7 kilometers from the main headquarters. All families lived in dugouts.

 

My father was a scout, like most partisans. He had 4 brothers and two sisters. He was the eldest.  His siblings were all too young to serve in the partisans. My dad’s younger sister was only a year older than me, and after the war we went to school in the same class. In total, my grandfather’s family is 8 people, and our family is 7 people: mom, dad, me, my sister, who was already born in the Partisans, and my grandfather on my mother’s side, with two children. Total: 15 people who had to be fed, and only two worked for the partisans.

What did the partisans do? Basically, they went on reconnaissance missions and sent the received data behind the front line. In addition, they fed all our forest people. Food was taken from peasants. I remember one story about how some old man was beaten with ramrods until he said where and what he had hidden.

Most often we ate horse meat, but there were also various other foods. One day the partisans brought honey to the delight of all the children. I remember the honey story well. A family lived near us with two preschool-aged boys. When the honey ran out, the boys did not want to eat anything and demanded that their father bring more honey. Their mother came to complain to my mother.

In any case, several nearby villages fed our village for almost two years. The Germans did not care as long as the partisans did not affect their own interests.

I have read many times that partisans blew up trains and bridges. I think Gritsan didn’t do this, and thanks to him we survived. If such a case had happened, and the partisans had blown up something, the Germans would have immediately sent a punitive detachment with an airplane and destroyed all the partisan settlements. The Germans usually didn’t do this, because they needed soldiers and planes on the front line, but they definitely would have done it in the event of an explosion. I think there was some kind of peaceful coexistence. You won't touch us; we won't touch you. And if there had been such an explosion, they would have talked about it after the war, but I didn’t hear anything like that. I asked my mother, but she didn’t know anything either.

The liberation of Belarus began in the winter of 1943-44. What I am writing about should have happened in March-April 1944, but I am not sure and now there is no one to ask. Gritsan received an order to join the Soviet army. The army broke through far ahead and might not hold its position for long. Therefore, Gritsan ordered them to immediately load onto the carts and go to meet the army. My father and mother were at the headquarters settlement at that time, and my grandfather Titus and I were in our settlement, which was about 1.5-2 hours away through the forest. Mom and dad didn't know what to do. They went to my grandmother to ask for advice. Grandmother told them that she could not take on such responsibility, they must decide for themselves. It is very likely that if they do not join the partisans, they will be killed in the forest. But if they go and survive, and my sister and I die, because Grandfather Titus will not be able to feed four children aged from one year to 7 years, then how will mom and dad continue to live with such a sin?

Mom and Dad went to take us. The partisans went to join the army. My grandmother later said that they saw the Germans walking along a parallel road in the opposite direction. Everyone was dying of fear. Gritsan ordered that no one shoot first. Answer only if the Germans start. The Germans did not start and silently continued their way.  The Germans might not have known that these were partisans, because most people in the carts were old men, women and children. The connection with the army took place in the village of Toshitsa. Most of the men were immediately drafted into the army. They also took one of my father's brothers. He died at the front.

Mom and dad came to our settlement. I remember this and the next day well. There was nowhere to hide. There was a light snowfall, and the tracks were clearly visible. We were sitting in the bathhouse. There was nowhere to go. After some time, the Germans came and took us to the village of Vygoda (emphasis on the o), where they were stationed. This village was a few kilometers from our village, so our people knew everyone in Vygoda. We were placed in a large village bathhouse.

Now I will talk about Tonya. Even at the very beginning of the war, the Germans were bringing soviet young people to Germany. For some reason, the Germans uncoupled two cars from the train, left them at a junction, not far from our village, and forgot about them. The youth were hungry for several days, and then dispersed to the villages. Tonya lived with us. She helped with housework. Tonya was well educated and spoke German. After some time, the Germans took Tonya to Vygoda, where she worked as a translator.

As I understood from the stories, the Germans were divided into at least two categories. There were punitive SS detachments who were sent to kill, burn, hang. And there were ordinary German soldiers, like those who stood in Vygoda. Many of the soldiers sympathized with the villagers and gave them clothes, shoes and sometimes treats for the children.

Tonya told my father that he would be shot tomorrow. Besides us, the only people in the bathhouse were women, old people and children from our settlement. Tonya didn’t know whether they would kill us too or just my father, but she advised us to run away as a family when it got dark. Tonya agreed with the patrolman that he would start shooting when we reached the forest. She told us not to pay attention to the shooting and to run further, because no one would run into the forest at night to look for us. That's what we did. Dad carried me on his back, and mom carried my sister. We walked through the forests south to the Gomel region, where in the village of Khatovnya, my dad knew someone and where we could hide. I asked my mother: what happened next when we reached Khatovnya? Mom replied: “A few days later we joined the partisans again. We had to eat something.”

My partisan feat :))

One day, the partisans obtained food, but could not bring it, but hid it somewhere in the forest. It was decided that older men, women and children would go to get food. Two carts set off. Mom took me. If the Germans had met us, we would have had to say that we were going to the market, or from the market, or something like that. There were no weapons with us.

We left the forest on a gravel road. And suddenly I saw a large pipe under the road. Now I know that it was a drainpipe allowing water to flow from one side of the road to the other. I was surprised that people were able to fit such a thick pipe under the road. We drove further and I again saw a similar pipe. We took the groceries, returned to the road, and went home.

At some point we turned off the road into the forest. We drove for some time, then the carts stopped, and everyone began to say that we were lost. Everyone stood in a circle and discussed what we should do. If anyone had seen us with food in the middle of the forest, we would have been in trouble. Then I said that when we were driving there, I saw two pipes under the road, and on the way back I saw only one pipe. After talking, everyone decided to return to the road and drive past the second pipe. There were no better offers. We returned, passed the second pipe and turned into the forest again. Now everyone began to recognize the places and we safely reached the camp. I think it was in Khatovnya. I was already quite big. And besides, my mother knew all the roads and would not have gotten lost if we were near our village in the Byhov district.

After the war, Dad went to partisan meetings. Mom kept many photographs from partisan meetings where dad loved to go. This is a photograph of Gritsan, which he sent to dad in 1960.

Dad was given a large partisan pension. After his death, my mother received this pension. In addition, every year she received such congratulations on Victory Day from Putin, and then from Medvedev. My sister and I did not receive anything, although, like my mother, we also ate partisan bread. :-)))


In conclusion, I would like to express my deep gratitude to the family of Mikhail Dimitrijevic Gritsan. He was born in 1920 in Ukraine. In 1943 he was only 23 years old. He was a wise man, respected by everyone. As I understood, his main task was to save the lives of all of us. He coped with this task perfectly. In the post-war period he worked as a school director in Dneprodzerzhinsk. Died in 1987.

 

(C) Galina Popovici, 2014

All rights reserved © 2014 Galina Popovich

 




Sunday, July 16, 2023

Art and life

 Life influences art—this is obvious. Less obvious is that art can influence life. I give one such example.

I watched the wonderful film “The Shoes of the Fisherman”, made in 1968 and based on the prophetic novel by Australian writer Morris West, published in 1963. The events described in the book actually happened 15 years later.

The character of the film's protagonist, Kirill Lakota, was inspired by the life of two Ukrainian Catholic bishops: Iosif Slepy and Hryhoriy Lakota, both political prisoners of Stalin's forced labor camps.

 In the film, Kirill Lakota was released during Nikita Khrushchev's time from the Siberian Gulag. After his release, Lakota was sent to the Vatican, where Pope Pius XIII made him a cardinal.

Lakota was a great Man in all periods of his life.

In the camp, when he could, he preached, helped the weak and supported the offended. His humanity, humility and modesty won the hearts of his colleagues in the Vatican. After the death of Pope Pius XIII, Lakota was elected Pope.

This was the first Slav Pope in the history of the Vatican. At the Papal coronation, Cyril took off the Papal tiara and vowed to sell church property in order to help the poor and hungry.

In real life, in 1978, 10 years after the film was released, Karol Josef Wojtyla from Poland was elected Pope. He took the name John Paul II. Prior to this, for almost 5 centuries, only Italians were elected Popes.

Why was a Polish but not a Russian national elected Pope as it was in the movie "Fisherman's Shoes"?

Hryhoriy Lakota, the prototype of the film hero, was born in 1883, studied in Lvov and Vienna, and from 1913 was a professor, and then rector of the Przemysl Theological Academy. In 1978 there were no such people in Russia. After 60 years of communist destruction of the Church, Russia has become almost entirely atheistic. The life of Russians was guided by dialectical materialism, and the Russian population had a very vague idea, if at all, about the spiritual life.

This was not the case in Poland and other Eastern European countries. Communism was introduced into these countries after the Second World War by terror and repression. Most of the population of these countries was born before the war. They retained the ideas of their pre-war democracies. Communist propaganda in these countries was not successful.

John Paul II played an important role in the overthrow of communism in Poland and Eastern Europe. In 1979 the Pope made his first visit to Poland. Millions attended his sermons. John Paul preached the need for respect of human rights, as well as national and religious freedom. He said in his sermons “keep solidarity, don't compromise, don't be afraid”.

  “Do not be afraid” - this phrase Jesus Christ repeats more than 40 times, and it is used over 100 times in the Bible. Solzhenitsyn said this to the Russian people, but his words had no consequences because they  fell on the ears of his compatriots, deafened by atheistic propaganda.

During his visit to Gdansk, John Paul met with Lech Walesa, the workers leader at the Lenin Shipyard. A year later, Walesa became one of the organizers and leader of the Solidarity movement. This was the beginning of a peaceful revolution, which led 10 years later to the fall of communism in Poland and throughout Eastern Europe.

Such a quick victory would not have been possible without the moral and financial support of United States President Ronald Reagan and British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. They, like Pope John Paul II, considered communism a moral evil. I will not dwell on this in detail, as it does not apply to today’s topic, announced in the title.

The Fisherman in the title of the film is the Apostle Peter. He, together with the Apostle Paul, built a church in Rome and was its first bishop. The Popes have to fill his shoes.

I am grateful to JN for the advice to watch this movie.