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II. Weltkrieg 1941-1945 Minsk / Belarus Dokumentale Erinnerung

My War

memories of my mother Tina Kliem (Kima) Rudsina (04.24.1926 - 20.03.2003)
http://nataliarudzina.blogspot.com/2010_05_01_archive Illustrated version under . html
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I see the war from my perspective Adler. I have my own war. If you look at the war from the side, one can see a triangle: In every corner of his own haste. In a sitting politician, the other soldiers to survive in the third, the confused people with the instinctive desire to shelter and to find a piece of bread. I am, "The People ". Until the war began to visit my mother Luba Andreevna time the civil defense instruction in property management. She participated in fire drills and exercises even had a gas mask. Your profession was a nurse. She was just at a civil defense instruction when the war began. But that was all a Kinderlallen compared to reality. I was "brought security" in the final stop of the tram Park of Tcheljuskinzew ", then in the village a stone's throw away Slepnja. There was a new school with new red tile roof, which glittered far and wide. My mother's sister, Aunt Vera was principal there. My first experience of war I have had in the basement of the school. That night we heard a lot of planes and bomb explosions. Someone said with expertise: If you can hear the flight of the bombs, it means passing shot. In the first silence at daybreak, we all came out of the cellar, the cat. She crept into the yard, looked at the sky and - appearing as a plane - crashed back first into the cellar. My father came with my little brother Gerik out of the city as a passenger in a car. Mother but declined to hitch a lift and would pick me first. Since there was no transport more. We went to Moscow on foot. The sister of my father, aunt and her daughter Olia Taisia went with us. Refugees were continuously on the Moscow highway. Bag and baggage they carried with them, with the children's hands and into the stroller. A woman in a dressing gown and slippers bore her baby and sang it loud - maybe they had gone mad. In the trenches lay about discarded items. They drank the water from dirty muddy puddles. Aunt Olia had lumps of sugar - this was our food. The Red Army soldiers were also related to the refugees, but usually by small groups the Wälder.Nach 10 km, in the village Korolev Stan, we were hit by bombers. That was my strongest impression: A cow ran with torn abdominal part, shouted and intestines dragging behind her on the night of her.Nach Bülte in mud we were told that the German army already before us is, and it would not make sense to go any further. We returned to Minsk and failed to recognize our city again. The houses burned down. Dead people lying around everywhere. In addition to the print shop I came upon a moment in the yard and saw a terrible picture. Since a truck stood with open rear side wall. Of which hung down dead soldiers, turned their heads down and faces me. Maybe the truck had been fired from a plane. The flies crawled over the dead faces. Near the bridge over the river Svisloch begged a woman to lap a German patrol that they were in a burning house left on the Swoboda Course. Her children were in there. But they did not go there. We burned the night in a house in the street Dolgobrodskaja. It gave a stone floor that but as warm as the heating surface of a furnace. I had only one white summer dress with flower pattern. But it was warm and gemütlich.Morgen we came to our house. Now the Nesawisimost the place (place of sovereignty), but until the war there was an entire residential area. On the part of Government House, it was at the Sovetskaya street, on the other side opposite the Medical School - was the Swjasnoj alley. There was my house. Since my childhood remains in the ruins
rob in the city (Maust) the inhabitants of the business. Farmers from the district took the goods with their horse cart. In addition to financial ruin took my mother a Carton with shirt buttons, black and white yarn and perfume with. She trembled with fear for a long time for their "crime". This "treasure" proved to be valuable as a therefore support during our hungry existence.

second
My first direct encounter with the Germans took place a week later. I was now 15 years old and totally shocked, swept the top was Bottom. Minsk was nothing more. I sat with my mother next to our house burning down and we cried. The first day we became homeless change from a basement in one thrown by a strange apartment in another. One day we spent the night on the greens next to the train station in the only habitable house that had been abandoned by its inhabitants. focused on this complex is a soldier and the Germans were playing happily on her harmonica. They respect us. But we were still afraid. There was no water. It was thirsty. And we, the women from the nearby ruins came to look for water in the district of Tcherwinski bazaar (market). It was hot. When we returned, we took a Abbreviation and went past the bus station today. Next to the station were hundreds of our prisoners of war. They were exhausted and were - because they died of thirst. A guard surrounded them. When they saw the water, they threw themselves to us, not paid attention to the calls of the guards. They drank greedily, while trying not to spill water. The German soldiers pushed back slowly, but they did not bother to drink. the early morning we were picked up by German soldiers. They brought us, (we still had empty bucket there) in the university district, according to the Bombing had remained intact. The Germans wanted to use the building itself. But cleaning the toilet - they were not squeaky clean - it took us - women from the village. For me it was terrible. But if the machine-gunners stood by, I had no choice. The toilets were cleaned. For the work we got a loaf of bread. But that was not all. Some women were taken to the station. The wagons were living German officers. Since we had to clean the windows. I was called by an elegant officer. He took me to his car. I should wash his shirts. As if you could wash shirts in cars! I went with a naïve and good. But then we were stopped by a burly, no longer young man in chef uniform. The officer walked away, looked back on my Savior and was boiling with rage. To advocate be for me to justify the cook gave me work. I turn potatoes, washed the dishes, and ate with greed unfamiliar food such as pea soup with chicken. The chef himself drank coffee from a large bucket, panting in the heat and fatherly looked at the thin girl. After several hours I returned home with cans and even a loaf of bread - to Add the first - to the delight of my desperate mother.
saturated and tired, I sat on the stairs ... "
There were two entrances to the House. Suddenly I heard a moan. Quietly I went into the hallway and saw a girl lying on the floor. She was a soldier of the Russian land troops. She was wounded in the leg and lost a lot of blood. I called my mother. In a closet, we found bandages and clothing. We gave her to eat, then she moved around and in the evening - leaning on a stick -. Gone away She would not stay with us because she was afraid because of them that we would get into the terminal. How far it is well-come. What could probably help her to remain unnoticed, was that it was after the bomb attacks as many wounded in Minsk.

third
My father's mother - Grandma Anna Ivanovna - was the younger daughter Lyuba and her granddaughter Nelia an accommodation in the bazaar street Well now Sverdlov street. There was also a little room for me and my mother. My health deteriorated because of malnutrition and I lay in bed. My mother went into town, made with massage wounded people and it got something to eat. Soon she found a job in the No. 2 Hospital, where our prisoners were wounded. You put them on the legs, then everyone was sent somewhere. Sometimes mom brought home from the hospital with healed patients. After a few days, went suddenly into the forest. I remember an engineer from Moscow, a jazz musician, a commander. And there was one from Osipovichy. I remember him more than all others because he has visited us after the liberation of Minsk. He cheerfully told us how rich and full now he could live with his family. Known to say "The Rich can not take a hungry man. " worked in the hospital a professor Markov. He provided me with the diagnosis of pulmonary tuberculosis and prescribed me wounded in the hospital rations for 1.5 liters of milk daily. About my health took care of my mother's relatives. Their temporary house was also in a strange apartment with three adjoining rooms on the third floor of the 14th International Well Street There you have my mother and me included, even though nine people were living in the apartment. To support my recovery, they sold first-hand clothes. Later they started to earn. main breadwinner was Uncle Volodya. He was a craftsman. He went to the fire authorities the locks, keys, padlocks and hooks. He cleaned, repaired and sold in an undamaged Bude, in a kiosk. Aunt Marusia - the widow of the artist Bortnikov - every day he brought in a special box-box cake from a bakery in a cafe. She made more in passing that our family fed. Nadja aunt was a teacher, she tried in school to work on the Swoboda Course. But after a week has left them. Your nerves have not sustained. Our former teachers beat the students. I have seen with my own eyes when I wanted to get there two days
In our family, a friend of my mother found accommodation with her young son Volodya Her name was Olga Matus and was a radio announcer. She was blond with a small blunt nose. No foreigner guessed she was a Jew. They even found a job as a laundress in a dining room.
And there was Aunt Vera, a history teacher. After a column is met by Jews who were brought to the shooting, she got sick, silent madness. Their Daughter Tanya helped at home. That's our whole family was.

However, despite the best efforts of our aunt Marusia bad nutrition. On the first day of the war drove Uncle Woiodja on a bucket of molasses in a starch factory. Once a day we got from there to a piece of bread with a teaspoon of molasses that tasted surprisingly good. If food remains were left, I always got the advantage.

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II. Weltkrieg 1941-1945 Minsk / Belarus Dokumentale Erinnerung

4th
After the fever fell, they brought me in the village, Aunt Nadia took care of me. She brought me in the village Mankowstschina (This is in West Belarus - still existed there was Polish power and private property until 1939) to inform, not far from town of Rakow, where it began. During the trip I was wrapped up, only the eyes were free. Later regretted aunt Nadia several times. When we exports from the city in the district of the "German cemetery" our carriage was stopped because of the way of a Wagenszug, which was full of dead, naked body, was blocked. Not right away you could see people in it. Icy hands and Legs stung improbably into different sides, reminiscent of long, poorly stacked firewood. To reassure me, told me that Aunt Nadya, that it is the people who were killed in the war. Later I learned that it was the victim of the Jewish ghetto. In the village Mankowstschina the house manager of the Hoff was a long shack-like building where the people lived Hoff and a school, which consisted of a class and a little room for the teacher. From the cold aunt saved me with the glass bottles full of hot water. In gave us a few weeks after the wife of Hoff manager of a room in her warm house. Worked there Aunt Nadia a school year. Mama came to us and his sister Tanja. Mom and Aunt were often in the neighboring villages to get food. The alternated cooking and buttons on foods. For buttons were added and for cooking eggs, butter or even bacon. For Easter, I discovered a wonderful tradition in our western Belarus, the inhabitants carried into the church on the eve of the feast prepared to eat food consecrated to let them. Part of the holy was carried to the teacher. So plenty of food I've ever seen. What we are not only brought: and roasted bird, and pig, ham, sausages, cheese and lots of stuff hooked of colored eggs. In Mankaowstschina I have learned to work at haying, reaping hook, weave, chauffeured and milk the cow. And yet I've managed to get a Mittelschullabschlüß. In 4 miles was a school in Jerschewitschi village. In the beginning was quiet in this area, but we left Mankowstschina in the tragic moment for our hosts.

5th
A bit of partisan. This technical term was not immediately incorporated into the lexicon surrounding residents. From time to time appeared in the houses of nocturnal visitors. There were soldiers be the Red Army who could not flee in time occupied zone and could be very suspicious guests. They were all armed and called for clothing, food more often self-burnt brandy (vodka) and sometimes after these visits disappeared my socks, the perfume and similar matters. The number of people to drink more often but were lovers and in the air to shoot, which made the people fear, especially when not one but several people came. It could have ended tragically their appearance. On the feast Pötr and Pawel (Peter and Paul) and his manager our Hoffman Family were neighbors in the village as guests Lapinzy. Suddenly emerged shoot armed people, to the husband of our hostess and her son. If someone's account with him, made the people saying that the son had to do with it. He had received the degree in Agricultural Academy and came straight back at home. Many soldiers of the Red Army withdrew, stayed in the villages, one as a worker and someone with a total of lonely women. Exactly these people came later in the woods. To those people are even CLOSE to some local residents, for various reasons, by no means not always patriotic Feelings to the USSR. When I spoke with local young people, I saw that they regarded as the true homeland of Poland. They spoke Polish, and thought that whole disaster came with the emergence of 'Sowety. They were disposed towards "Sowety" just like against the Germans and their behavior depended on who most of them constituted danger. It was hard to understand all this, so that people had a fear of each nocturnal visit. Later, people began to call them partisans .
6th
In the next school year worked aunt Nadja Esmanowitchy in the village, more specifically in the vicinity - in the courtyard Germanischky. They provided us with two classrooms and a room available for us. There were many students. Nadja aunt persuaded me to try it myself to work with children. So far, I often sat next to her when she wonderfully taught. She was professional, high class. They trusted me to a second and third class. My teaching was different from ordinary rules. Besides arithmetic, reading and writing I paid a lot of speeches, drawing and view games. I read the story by Pushkin, which was accompanied by my drawings on the class blackboard. And the children also recorded. Aunt Nadia was satisfied with my work. New Year, we prepared a whole festival. We even made the costumes and the decorations for a Christmas tree. The parents were enthusiastic about the school concert. They danced until evening and have it ruined the class hard floor. I believe that remind my students at our entertainment. Pretty soon our work was rewarded in unexpected ways: The children came to school with gifts, one with a milk bottle, another with a few eggs or a piece of bacon, butter or meat and so on. I remember my work at school with great warmth. Later I regretted not once that I disdained the advice of Aunt Nadia to become a teacher. But I understand that the same freedom in teaching, I could hardly have in our normal schools. At that time the guerrilla movement was better organized, there were fewer packs and gangs. Still, I was not once all night in the attic with old junk. There were already a large departments. Our house was a pharmacist from Gorodok to the partisans with a box of medicines. His wife went with him. Several times we visited two friends-partisan. Petya from Kiev and Moscow from Vanya. The first was not far away from Germanischki, although there was no fighting. He was not buried, and the crows pecked his eyes out. Wanija were shot after being arrested while fleeing in the woods next Molodechno. How well they played at the school festival, a mandolin, the other balalaika. The Court's Kiewez Olga Matus were with her son brought over to the partisans. Of their further fate could hear nothing. There was silence, as if they never existed at all. It reported rumors that she were shot by someone.
I was never even a witness of this fighting, of whom it was said in post-war films, even though I lived in the forest zone. The information went through as a damaged phone. But something I saw myself, and that was not a pleasant impression mines on the road, where there is no German was a horse-drawn cart exploded, the peasants were killed and the horse was torn in half. Our landlady in Germanischki came after the departure of the partisans on the body of her murdered husband's secret. The next case could explain it better. A mine was under a car with two old German to be related to the explosion (who worked in administration in the town of Gorodok. They bred excellent never before seen in a long cucumber perfectly ausehenden beds. But while Jewish shootings they were out. In our environment FS ,.. well, the Stfräfkommandos hlten So, partisans are for me a medal with two sides

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II. Weltkrieg 1941-1945 Minsk / Belarus Dokumentale Erinnerung

7th
Because of my health I was not fit for the guerrilla movement, but as a young female person, I was very attractive to nocturnal womanizer often came to us. The family decided to move to town Gorodok, where our relatives lived Kobak of the clock master. We settled on the edge, next to the castle, in an empty house. The homeowner lived in a village and had no objection to our move. Mama found a job at the local hospital and I started with Aunt Nadia in the school in the village to work alongside Semerniki Gorodok. Morning, the peasants came to fetch us in turn. It was said that the village Semerniki (Slavic tribe of "sem" - seven). Was called after seven twins who were born in this village during the baptism, they were on the cake plate accommodated. The town Gorodock is a centuries-old settlement: three long streets and hills - the walls of the ruined castle in ancient times, a wonderful river and the mill of brick. A road leads to Wolozjin, a second after Molodechno, the third after Rackov and on to Minsk. The streets were covered with paving stones. in the direction of Rackov was a beautiful castle. In the center was a large Russian church in stone. There was also a place with buildings of stone and not a storied only. There were many shops and workshops. Along the streets there were hundreds of years of huge trees. The clean streets, nice houses, lots of flowers - I saw Gorodock in the summer of 1942 years. I came to my uncle two days after the destruction of the Jewish population. Gorodock was deserted - was oppressive silence. The geographical location of Gorodock make it a trading crossroads. A significant proportion of the population were Jews, they turned Gorodock in a trade center and no wonder that you could buy everything you need there.
After the twenty-year break I visited this wonderful place and found there only a run-down village with three shops and a smelly dining room. The castle and church were burned, as everything else Gorodock decorated and had made strange. Mighty ramparts of the ruined castle gave reason to believe that Gorodock played a significant role in the history of our country and I hope to ineradicable researchers - enthusiasts who create the forgotten corners of our Belarus, which he doll outfits ; leads.
8th
Now I know what is fascism. But when the war began, I was sure, like all Soviet people and that all Germans are fascists. But even in time of war, my faith began to waver. It's not the same. After the shootings took of Jews and other criminal acts command the inhabitants of the Gorodok with horror the arrival of an entire German regiment. Man was very surprised when the homes were populated with sub-tenants - the front Regiment came to rest here. In our house a German officer, a young mathematics teacher from Berlin, was billeted. His name was Hans Petersen. He had a fellow officer, who came once a day to clean up the room, the suit to clean and brought breakfast to his patron. In a small room there was a bed, small table and a chair, but there was no door. Our tenant was amazingly tender-minded and even embarrassed man. When he came back home in the evening, he knocked gently at the door and told his name. My learning the German language gave me in school, despite the weakness in a way a bit to talk to the tenant. He wished very much to the home, looking fondly at the photograph of his unattractive bride. He sympathized obvious, but allowed it is never disrespectful to deal with me. His fellow, a simple country people knew nothing of this war, he spoke endlessly about his business, his parents and beloved by garden. He thoroughly cleaned the room of his master, until the last speck of dust, he cleaned the dress and cleaned the persistent passage to our house with snow. Often, the lieutenant was given for breakfast a strange food - butter with raw minced meat. I do not know whether a national court (specialty) or had a very nutritious food. The same kind of tenants were our neighbors. Some got a letter from home deliveries and entertained their hosts. When my neighbor is a message directed soldiers. As the head there was an officer from Innsbruck. He invited us to listen together the news from Moscow. We listened to the voice of Levitan (famous radio announcer), the operational war reports by Inform office. It is full of informational isolation and suddenly heard a voice from Moscow .... It was a real shock. The invitations were repeated. went into a month, the regiment to the front. My family and my impressions were very good. Such Germans we saw in simple human relations.
9th
our lives in Gorodock was pretty quiet in comparison with what happened in the environment. In spring 1943 I was the guest of a large family in the spot Krasnoye - Railway Station Usha. The house stood at the end of the road with windows down to the roadbed. Early the next morning broke to us the Germans, but said a police officer, that it is not so, and they went away. And "that" looked like this: this morning, the people of the Jewish ghettos destroyed. I did not come out of wonder, why two men could not break off a 16 year old, fragile girl from the window, and why it was necessary that I saw what happened out there? Frozen, with the look of horror, I took in like a sponge, the actions of the fascist criminal commands. The whole nightmare of the event was held as on a photographic film: Naked people go to the uneven rows, always about hundred people, the men separated from women with children. They raise their hands in the sky. You can either listen to whining or singing. The groups were gradually brought into the barn with the wide-open door. You could hear the shots. You could see an officer and a group of soldiers. They gave back the loaded pistol to the executioner. Semi-circular way to the barn are the machine-gun shooters. There is an escape from the male group. Three men flee to the still-frozen river, behind which runs the railway line and immediately - a forest. Two of the fugitives were overtaken by bullets, and the third fled to the forest. The moving train to save him. The shooting was delayed. The train went off and the man disappeared in the forest. A second attempt - with the women. The result - our entrance is next to a shooting victim girl. All were shot, stacked, doused with gasoline. The barn is burning. The walls collapsed. The human body burn. It smells of roasted meat and black smoke rising high into the sky.

One can not forget to tell the wish that all the details relatives of fallen soldiers is intolerable. For a while we weep together over the beauty that was next to our house, where she hoped to find salvation. The long hair covered her naked Body and in the uncomfortable turned-hand was held something like bread.

And what if this is only one who could run away, saved himself? Perhaps he is still alive, or his children. I wanted to take me with him, as related to a human.

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Krieg 1941-1945 Minsk / Belarus Dokumentale Erinnerung

10th

Our Gorodock was in guerrilla zones, but our life was relatively calm. There was some brief skirmishes between guerrillas and police. In a clash of local significance "was killed the head of Gorodock.

In drunk he jumped out onto the pitch with a Swords, someone called to fight, was wounded in the leg and during the firefight, he bled and died. Several times Gorodock was set on fire. I get used to the fires and brought in cold blood, our meager belongings.

One night invited unidentified bomber from us. The bombs did not fall so far from our house. A hit in the adjacent barn, dug a deep funnel, on the border were still intact pig. It also gave us natural disasters. A real hurricane flew past the Gorodock. At one lunch, it has become so obscure that only infinite flashing lightning illuminated Flying the rooftops of barns. In the courtyard stood a tethered horse. Because terrible wind, it fell to his knees and could not get up. It was not long, but long enough to make a hundred year old trees that graced the streets of Gorodock.

And flew into our house the day before a ball lightning, but he destroyed the chimney in the kitchen. In that moment I was sitting in a squatting position, took the illustrated magazine which was under the buffet. I was thrown to the ground and saw before me a float from left to right - on par- silvery-pink misty ball, football great. It was like in slow motion. The time was almost stand and I did not know when the explosion thundered, before appearance of the ball or after? I was stunned and could not move. In the room there were two men. They saw everything, and their hairstyles changed: the hairs laid from left to right. The flash was gone, we discovered in a small window, "Dreikopeek" (1.5 cm) hole, and sooty glass all around. In the house was smoke and it smelled strongly of ozone, but there was no fire. Mom was in the kitchen and has got injuries from fragments of the destroyed Ziegelnsschornsteins. And our neighbor, who was next to us, we buried her up to the knees in the earth. Had they not been wearing rubber shoes, she was dead the evening is all gone and the numbness in stormy, we discussed the events.

After all the shocks we came back to our everyday life with new disturbing rumors. After the years, the word "war", perceived as a chain of perpetual nightmares. But if you exestierst in this war, live for this time, and not just one year, then all these events held in the time and it results in such a way that terrible things happen less often and the rest of the time people simply live. The live uneasily with their everyday problems and joys attainable. In quiet periods, we heard music, opera arias. We had Koffergrammofon. We danced tango and waltz, sang with a guitar, we fell in love, got married and turned on curlers. Being young is stronger than war.

G rodock is located 50 km from Minsk. After the liberation of capital. began to the approach. The Germans came to an arrangement in order to evacuate to Germany. I learned that when a supply convoy was passing near our house. . The policeman came over and ordered to join aunt Nadia had pain in the knee - you read it in peace. Mama was in the hospital. And I was met with no matter-just threw on her coat. All rushed in - you could hear the fight: The policeman said that he will make himself personally for me, so I do not need things. The long supply convoy pulled apart in the direction Molodietchno and guards were rare. Already in the first forest I offered to permit to go into the bushes and when I got behind the trees, I threw myself, like a ball to running back. After the forest we had to cross a field and they started shooting. I fell behind the first little hill and lay motionless. The shocks from the machine gun went over the little hill, I was overwhelmed by the earth. I could hardly hold myself back so as not to run off. Thank God I had enough sense to me not to move. The supply convoy went away and I returned to my house burnt down. I found Aunt Nadia around in a potato pit - The neighbors helped her to achieve them. And the mother ran after the supply convoy, but they told her that I'm back ...

The front was very close, you had to hide. Mom and Aunt Nadia remained in the pit, and I went with a group of women with children in the woods, where will trenches from the First World War did. There, "we accepted the fight." Bombs fell, and then flew the missiles. We were sitting on in the trenches, but when the "Katjuschen" (*) shoot began, it was possible the not endure. This sound could be compared with the laughter of a giant demon. Not so far from the trench floor exploded. We were burnt by fiery air (my eyebrows were burned) and we threw out in panic to go away. In my hands was any child. Now it is difficult to imagine how one could run with incredible speed to the paragraphs in a gabardine - coat with a child. I ran forward, the other behind me. The shells exploded around, but God pardoned us. We walked to the River. The explosions - I think, remained behind, and over there, across the river - calm. It is dark. No one but I could swim. I found a ford in my robe and helped to bring over the children. What to do with fear not! We went to a single farm and there continued the fight. We sat down with the hosts in the basement all night in wet clothes.

morning arrived early to our (Red Army). My joyful sobs

put all that happened so far in the shade. I returned to Gorodock on the running board of a military vehicle. On the road lay what remained of a people crushed by tanks. were

From the battlefield to the next the wounded brought home intact. Mama took care of it, and I tried to help. In the night a soldier was in dying, wounded in abdomen. It allowed him to drink, but suddenly it was allowed him. And I gave him to drink.

I was very surprised when he said that he regretted very much that he did not come to Berlin - I did not believe that one could think in the last hour of something similar. There was still a wounded man with dozens of chips in the body: He spoke in a fever all night, "said a female name. When he came to himself and looking at me, his face beaming. Maybe he saw another one in me. Early the next morning they took him away. The doctor said that he will die.

I remember so far the two. And the day before I managed to fall in love in love with a young major, who regaled us with tea and very tasty soldier's biscuits. We could not talk enough, as if we had not seen.

He offered me to write to him, left his address. I wrote, but got no answer. What if he was so young and beautiful? It's so unfair.

One day I went with aunt and mom to Minsk with the ride-military Truck. The relatives of the father and mother went their own way through the war. The older sister of the father - Aunt Nina Nonna with her daughter were among the partisans. And her son and husband Vova Uncle Vanya were at the front. Luba came with daughter Nelja to Germany with her new husband, an elderly German who provisioned the army with bacon. Grandmother Anna Ivanovna could feel not agree with the marriage of her daughter and threw herself into the River. She was found a week later. Aunt Olia buried her daughter Taissia - blood cancer. Sister Tanya was sold in Germany. She worked there on a farm. After liberation by the Americans returned to their homeland.

12th

came in the fall, I and my mother in the Urals. My father worked there at a plant that produced the stories. The father was a military person and after the evacuation from Minsk, he was to work as a military professional in the city Katav-mobilized lwanovsk. He wrote to Minsk and took us. I got into the Ural Switzerland - an area of extraordinary beauty: the mountains, beautiful lakes, forests, ski, fish, bear meat. Wild strawberries and bell flowers were twice as large as ours. After the front located Dunkelcheit - lit electric lamp, unusual.

Only when I looked closer, I realized that the Urals had been crushed by the heavy role of the war.

The people who were emaciated by hunger and by the forces of rising labor, freeze in ice-covered rooms - they were refugees. All people who were evacuated were regarded as Jews. When my brother got a new passport, he discovered there a new nationality - Jew.

We lived hard, just like everyone else. The day of our victory we celebrated there. I remember how I enthusiastically danced in the street, even though I had been taught that no one .. I've never been so full of happiness. If only it was that always that people loved so today. So ended my war. Of course this is only a part of my memories, but the meet - to say the least, to be a nervous person. What I remember sometimes close friends and doctors. The most interesting is that none went away from these events, which are always with me and sound in contemporary life. I have something I can compare. The older I get, the more severe the burden. Man wants to get rid of them in part, I have also done on these pages.

1994 08:03 ; Klementina Rudsina

The Last Level On Cubefield

24th May 2010 (book)

Boot Camp Morton Rhue

Salvia has allowed me that I can read this book, it is of the same author, as the. , who wrote the shaft.

that are confined to a youth who is sent to a camp improvement, because he has a relationship with his 10 year old teacher. He is beaten and tortured ... and then fled with two of his cronies. but because he saves the carriers drown in front, he is caught and comes back again. At the end of him save his parents because they were told of the abuse. but the boy is already broken.

You come out here do not
when you audition you ,
what they want.

you come out of here until
if you're ,
what they want.

Black Mold Health Risks

18th May 2010 (book)

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust II

I give to: a lot I did not understand ..... you'd need a real good explanation booklet. I was just recently Faust II in the theater, which was prepared actually quite easy to digest. This can be seen only in comparison to the book, even if a few funny quotes in it are.

My Highlights (from wikiquote): A
lles ephemeral / / If only one parable / / The Weak, / / this is event / / The indescribable, / is / There done / / The Eternal Feminine / / draws us ". - Faust II, Verse 12 104 ff / Chorus mysticus - Final Verse Faust II

"In German lies, if one is polite." - Faust II, verse 6771 / bachelor

Do look at me a little greedy - Mephistopheles

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scribbler, untalented writer ... me. vol. 2

I’m tired, I’m sick and I’m fed up

I break the rules , I’ve had enough

I don’t believe your lies no more

I’m not that girl I’d been before

 

And nothing change, the life keeps running

Your dreams are broken, ain’t it funny?

But nobody would tell the truth

That all your tries have any use

 

So why’re we here and who’s to blame?

Who is to light your inner flame?

Each day is brining a new fear.

You are to fight it? Let me see’ya

 

And I won’t give you any hand

You chose this way and you must stand

And if you’re numb because of scare

Be sure, honey: I don’t care

 

Can I Put My Mobile Broadband Sim In A Phone?

scribbler, untalented writer

Go to hell your pretty world!

Feeling safe within your fault

Being broken but for now

Being dead just for an hour

 

Haunting still to see your face

Trying to spot your spicy trace

Milky moonlight flows around

Ghastly voices in surround

 

Vague hints to be the truth

Not to have means not to loose

Hush! Don’t drop it! Sitting tight,

Break the silence. Let us try!

Canada Find Imperia Pasta

... me I'll change the world ...

Let's see if it works. I can not risk it.
I know the road is long , but I am strong.
And everyone I can now say that simple: you go down
well as Titanic sank.

I remain standing there. Fear will be stronger.
the end she eats miene dreams.
No! I am strong - they get me never small .
My life is declining today 'nen new run.

Gm Extended Warranty Saturn Outlook

My War ...

Это documentary story of my mother, Rudzinoy Kimy Vladimirovna about the war years ...
Here option with photos http://nataliarudzina.blogspot.com/2010_05_01_archive.html

Rudzina KV (One thousand nine hundred twenty-six - 2,003)
Minsk Belarus

I have my own bell tower. And the war has its own. If look at the war from the side, you can see a triangle, and in every corner of his own vanity. In one - politicians, in the other - the army, in the third - confused people instinctively desire to survive, to find shelter and a piece of bread. I - the population.

Before the war, my mother, LUBOV neatly went to a house management and learned how to behave in case of war - even mask it was. Her profession - a nurse. She took part in mock alarm. All it's sophomoric in comparison with reality. At Day start of the war she was at those sessions, and I was taken to the nearest "safe place". The ultimate The tram stop was at "Park Cheluskintsev, and then hand submitted to the village of gadflies. There was a new school, the whole neighborhood shiny red tiles. Director this school was the sister of my mother - my aunt Vera.V basement of this school, I met the first fight voyny.V basement of this school, I met the first battle War. All night we listened to the flying and bursting shells. Someone with knowledge of the case said that if the flight of the projectile can be heard - it means passing. In the first lull at dawn we came out of the basement and the cat too. She went stealthily about the yard, staring at the sky, and when he appeared aircraft, first ran into the basement.

Dad with his younger brother Guericke out of town on a passing car. Mom refused and walked past behind me. No transport was no longer there and we decided to walk go to Moskvu.S us left my dad's sister - Aunt Olga and her daughter Taiso. On the Moscow highway continuously walked refugees. Some pulled their belongings, others - children and on the hands and kolyaskah.Odna woman in a bathrobe and slippers carrying a baby and sang loudly - probably crazy. In the trenches littered with abandoned things. Drinking water from dirty puddles of clay. Aunt Oli were pieces of sugar - and to eat. Together with the refugees, small grupkami walked and soldiers, but mostly - the woods. After a few tens of kilometers in the countryside Korolev Stan, we were bombed. The most vivid picture: have one cow pluck a locally piece stomach she ran away and cried, and stretched her colon.

After a night spent on the bog hummock, we learned that the Germans had ahead and continue to go it makes no sense. We returned to Minsk and did not recognize him. House burning out and lay dead everywhere. In the area of typography, I came a minute into the yard and saw terrible picture. In the yard was a truck with the tailgate unfolded. With the machine hung dead soldiers, with their heads down and faces me. Probably the truck shot from aircraft. On dead people crawling flies.

Near the bridge over Svislach woman knelt before a German patrol and begged skip to the burning home in Liberty Square - she stayed there children. Do not let him.

We slept in a sort of burnt the house down the street DOLGOBRODSKAYA. Under the stairs, the stone floor was warm as a hot stove. All my clothes consisted of a white sarafan in flowers - so it was warm and cozy. In the morning went to his house. Now there is Independence Square, and before the war was a residential area. From the Government House was the Soviet street, and the reverse - Against Medical Institute - connected lane. There was my house and there, in ruins, it remains my childhood.

The city residents diligently "Pure" shops, and nearby farmers entire carts exported goods. Around the ruined shop, mom picked up a box of buttons for shirts, white and black thread, and spirits - then long trembled with fear for his "crime." This "treasure" later turned out to be a valuable tool in our hungry   существовании.

                                                                                                                                To be continued ...

War Minsk Photos courtesy of the Ming artist Dmitry Maslov, originals размещены на его сайте:     http://sites.google.com/site/dmitrymasly/                      

 

  ©   -   все авторскае права защищены,   Наталия Рудзина (Natalia Rudsina).

 

 

Burton Bindings Size M To Size 10 Boots

My War ... Part 2

                                                                                           - 2 -

first direct acquaintance with the Germans, I had a week after the start of the war - I just turned fifteen let.Ya still in a state of shock, everything has been turned upside down, from Minsk is nothing left. My mother and I sat a long time near our dotlevayuschego home and cried. The first days of throwing us stray from one cellar to another, from one another's apartments - in another. A few days we slept in a park near station, in a single apartment building, parked owners. In a park settled by German soldiers, gaily strumming on a harmonica. For us they did not pay attention, but it was still scary. No water, thirsty, and here we are, women from the surrounding ruins, went to look for water somewhere in the region Chervensky market. Heat. Returning, decided to shorten the route, passing by the current bus station - next to the railway. Hundreds of prisoners were lying, sitting, exhausted - they died of thirst surrounded by guards. Seeing the water, the prisoners, as mad, rushed to us, ignoring shouts of guards. They eagerly drank water, trying not to spill it. The Germans are lazy potaraplivali, but did not touch them.

The next morning we were stopped by soldiers and taken, with more empty buckets in side of campus, which survived the bombing. The Germans put in order of housing for their needs, but for washing toilets that never blisteli purity needed local resident. For me it was awful, but in the presence of a submachine choice was made, Toilets cleaned and for the work given a loaf of bread. But that's not all. Home was released not all. Several women were taken to the station, where trains have lived German officers - had to wash the windows.

called me a young, dapper officer and led him to his car, explaining that he needed to wash a shirt - as if in cars can be washed! I, naively, obediently followed him, but we were stopped by an elderly German in full chef form. The officer is angry and left, looking back on my savior. To justify their intercession, the chef gave me a job. I was peeling potatoes, washing dishes and greedily ate unusual foods: something between a soup and porridge of peas with the chicken. And he only drank coffee from a large vat, puffing from the heat and fatherly looking on a thin girl. A few hours later I returned home with canned food and a loaf of bread into the bargain to the first, to the delight of my mother's desperate.

tired and sated, I sat on a nearby porch - the house had two entrances, and suddenly, I heard stony.Tihonko out into the corridor and made out to the floor lay a girl-desantnitsu. She was shot in the leg and lost a lot of blood. I went for my mother. In a strange closet found something for dressing and dress. Fed, dressed in the evening, leaning on a cane, a wounded girl left - would not want to stay, afraid of courting trouble for us. How far is she gone? The only что могло ей помочь остаться незамеченной, это то, что   после бомбёжек в Минске было много раненых.  

                                                                                                                    

 

 

©   -   все авторскае права защищены,   Наталия Рудзина (Natalia Rudsina).
                                           

Goalie Mask Blueprints

My War ... Part 3 ...

                                                             -3 -

my father's mother - my grandmother, Anna Ivanovna, the youngest daughter Any and granddaughter Neley, housed in a vacant apartment on the street Bazaar (Sverdlov). Found there and a tiny room for us with my mother. Malnutrition my health deteriorated and I went slegla.Mama the city, making massages wounded people and for the work which has received some food. Soon she got a job at the second hospital where our wounded were lying prisoners. They were placed on the legs and then sent someone kuda.Inogda mother led to the house to heal hospital patients, and a couple of days, they just as suddenly went into the woods. I remember an engineer from Moscow, jazz musician, just the commander. There was another - from Osipovichi. I remember him more than others because, that after ovobozhdeniya Minsk he visited us and have fun telling how prosperous lives now his family. That's really really fed hungry not understand.

work at the hospital, Professor Markoff, he gave me a diagnosis - pulmonary tuberculosis and wrote to me from the hospital diet wounded - a half liter of milk daily.

During my treatment took my mom's relatives. Their The hostel is also in a strange apartment, in three adjoining rooms on the third floor on the street Internacyjanalnaya 14. They took us to his mom - Total 9. To maintain my strength, initially equivalent to selling things, and then start earning. The main breadwinner was Uncle Volodya. Being a man of the mechanics, he collected on post-fire locks, keys, hinges, hooks. Clean them, repaired and sold to the surviving booth-kiosk. Aunt Maroussia - widow of the artist Bortnikov, in a special box-suitcase bore the daily pastries from the bakery in the cafe. She always cared about the subsistence of the family. Aunt Nadia - the teacher, tried to work school at Freedom Square, but a week away - not lost his nerve. Our former teachers beat students. I saw it too - she studied for two days. This family also sheltering former friends mom with teenage son Volodya. Her name - Olga Matus - a radio announcer. She was a snub-nosed blonde, and none of the outsiders are not guessed about her Jewish origin. She even found a job as a laundress in a dining room. And Aunt Vera - a historian. After meeting with a column of Jews led to execution, ill - a quiet obsession. Her daughter Tanya helped around the house. That's our whole family. Despite all the efforts of Aunt Marousi, ate bad. In the early days of the war, Uncle Volodya procured on starch factory bucket of molasses. Once a day we all get a slice of bread with a teaspoon of molasses - a было изумительно вкусно. В остальном питании мне отдавалось предпочтение.

      

How Come My Action Replay Freezes My Game

My War Part 4

                                                                      -4 -

After sleeping temperature, I decided to take away the village. Care of me took over Aunt Nadya. She took me to the village Mankovschina, near the village of Rakov, where the beginning teacher. During the trip, I was wrapped up, and only the eyes were free, as Aunt Nadia more than once sorry. When leaving the city, near the German cemetery, our sled stopped, because the road blocked the convoy of kind of carts full of dead, naked bodies. Immediately it was impossible to know them as people; icy hands and feet is incredibly stuck in different directions, recalling the long, poorly arranged firewood. Comforting my aunt Nadia explained that it was the war dead people. Later I learned that they were victims of the Jewish ghetto. In the village Mankovschina at home estate manager, was a long, barrack-type structure in which people lived in backyard and was a school, consisting of one class and the rooms for teachers. From the cold aunt Nadia saved me, warming the bottles with hot water. After a couple of weeks wife control ceded to us a room in his warm dome.Tam aunt worked for one season. We were visited by my mother and sister Tanya. Mom and aunt often went for food in neighboring villages. They were exchanged for products button and threads. A button given an egg, and the strings, even butter or lard. At Easter, I discovered a wonderful tradition in our west of Belarus, the inhabitants were in church on the eve of sanctify cooked before it is clear. Part of the hallowed brought teacher. Such an abundance of tasty food I have not seen. What did not we brought: and fried poultry and pig, ham, sausage, cheese, lots of cake and lots of colored eggs.

In Mankovschine I learned rabotat on haymaking, harvest, weave, run a horse, milk the cows. And still managed to finish secondary education - four kilometers was a school in the village Ershevichi. First в этих местах была довольно спокойная жизнь, но покидали мы Маньковщину в трагический момент в жизни наших хозяев.

                                                                                                                                   

© - avtorskae all rights reserved   Наталия Рудзина (Natalia Rudsina).

Purchasing Private Land In Ontario

My War ... Part 5

                                                                       -5 -

little about the guerrillas. This term is not immediately entered the lexicon of the local population. Sometimes the houses appeared overnight visitors. It could be Red, not had time to withdraw from the occupied zone and the very somnitelnye guests. All of them were armed and demanded the clothes, food but most of moonshine, and sometimes, after their visits, disappeared my socks, perfumes and things like that. People were different, but most drinkers and shoot into the air, hovering fear in people, especially if you have to not one but several people. Sometimes, that their appearance ended in tragedy. On the day of the celebration of birthdays of Peter and Paul, our hosts were at a party in a nearby village Lapintsy. Hatched by armed men shot and killed her husband, and along with our son's mistress. If someone is getting even with her husband, as people said then and there a son, he just came home, ending the Agricultural Academy.

Many of our retreating Red Army settled in villages, who, as employee, and who have single women. These are the people who subsequently went into the woods. They were joined by local residents, for various reasons, but not all of patriotic feelings for the Soviet Union. Communicating with local youth, I saw that his real home, they believe Poland. They spoke in Polish and believed that all their troubles began with the arrival of "advice." They were equally opposed to the Germans against "councils" and behaved in a matter came from more evil. Understand all this has been difficult, so people were afraid of all overnight guests. Later they started calling the guerrillas.

                                                                                                                                

 

©   -   все авторскае права защищены,   Наталия Рудзина (Natalia Rudsina).

Advocaat Recipe With Whole Eggs

My War ... Part 6

                                                                       -6 -

next academic year Aunt Nadya worked in the village Esmanovtsy rather beside the estate Germanishki. At home, a school was granted two classrooms and a room for us. Students were many and Aunt Nadia persuaded me to try to work with children. Until then, I often sat on her wonderful lessons. She was a high-class professionals. She confided to me the second and third classes. My teaching is not quite meet the usual rules. In addition to arithmetic, reading and writing, I paid much attention to speech, drawing, games for consideration. Students read Pushkin's fairy tales, the accompanying drawings on the blackboard. Drew and they are. Aunt Nadia was pleased with my work. By New Year we have prepared a feast. And the costumes and Christmas decorations do it yourself. School Concert inspired parents, who danced till the evening, pretty spoiled parquet in the classroom. I think that my students will remember our conversation. Very quickly, our work was rewarded unexpected way: the children began to come to school with goodies - who with a bottle of milk, some with several eggs or a piece of lard or butter, meat, etc.. I Big warm memories of my work at school and, later, not once regretted that prinebregla Board Aunt Nadya become uchtelnitsey, though well aware that this freedom of teaching is hardly likely to have in our typical school.

By this time, the guerrilla movement becomes more organized, less punks, although many times I had sit overnight in the closet with the old stuff. It already had small detachments. After our house had gone to the partisans pharmacist from the town, taking the medicine chest. With him was his wife. We have a few days there were two other guerrilla: Pete from Kiev and Ivan from Moscow. The first was killed not far from Germanishek - although the battle was not. He was not buried, and the crows pecked out his eyes. Vanya was shot dead after arrest, during the escape, in a forest near Molodechno. How well they played at the school festival - one of the mandolin, the other on the balalaika. Through the estate Kievets the partisans smuggled Olga Matus and his son. About their fate had nothing to learn - a complete silence, as Bud something they did not exist in the world. It was rumored that she shot someone.

witness to the fighting, which told in post-war films, I've never been, though lived in the forest zone. Information was such a spoiled phone, but something I saw, and the impression is not a pleasant one: mines on roads where there are no Germans, blown cart, the peasants were killed, and the horse tore in half. Some strange murder: our hostess in Germanishkah after the withdrawal of the guerrillas, stumbled upon the body secretly murdered her husband. More user-friendly episode: a mine exploded under the car of two elderly Germans (vlast in the town of town). They are excellent grown unprecedented long cucumbers perfect weed beds. But during the shooting of Jewish partisans were absent. In our region punishers feel at ease.   Так, что партизаны для меня – медаль с двумя сторонами.             


                    

 

 

©   -   все авторскае права защищены,   Наталия Рудзина (Natalia Rudsina).                                                       

White Tux With Black Pinstripes

My War ... Part 7

                                                                     -7 -

reasons of health, the partisans I sovsemne old enough, but as a young lady who was very attractive for night Lovelace, who often to us. The family decided to move to town town, where he lived our relative-hour master Kobak. We settled on the outskirts, near the church, in an empty house. Owner of the house he lived in the village and did not object to our move. Mom got a job at a local hospital, and we with her aunt Nadia began work in Semerniki school in the village, close to town. For us every morning alternately visited farmers. Say the name "Semerniki" comes from the birth of seven twins, who at the time of baptism could fit on one platter.

township town - a centuries-old settlement: three long streets and hills - walls of the castle destroyed by time, a wonderful river and a brick mill. One street leads to the Volozhin, the second - in Molodechno, the third - in Rakov and then - in Minsk. The streets are paved with cobblestones. From the Rakov - beautiful church in the center, a large stone tserkov.Tut same area with stone buildings and not only the floor, lots of shops and workshops. Along the streets - huge old trees. Clean streets, beautiful homes and many colors. So I saw Town in the summer of 1942. I came to visit his uncle on the second day after the destruction of the Jewish population. The town, like a bud became extinct - was oppressive silence. Geographic position of the town made it a trading crossroads. Much of the population - the Jews, turned it into a center of commerce and it is not surprising that there can be could buy everything you need. After twenty years of hiatus, I have visited this wonderful place and found there a rundown village with three shops and a smelly cafeteria. Catholic church and the church burned down, as all that was adorned and made unique town. Mighty ramparts of the castle ruins provide grounds to expect a znachitelnoy Borough role in the history of our land and undying hope of researchers and enthusiasts who will pay homage to this forgotten corner of our Belarus.

                                                                                                                                

© - avtorskae all rights reserved, Наталия Рудзина (Natalia Rudsina).

Marines Skating Dress

My War ... Part 8

                                                                                               -8 -

This now I know what fascism is, and when the war was certain, as all the Soviet people that the Nazis - All Germans. But even during the war, my faith was shaken. This is not the same thing.

After the shootings of Jewish and other punitive measures, villagers perceived with horror the arrival in town of a German regiment. Very surprised when their homes were to resettle tenants - front Regiment arrived on holiday. In our house lodged a German officer, a young math teacher from Berlin - his name is Hans Peterzen. He was an orderly, time the day went to clean the room, clean suit and bring breakfast to his patron. In a small room, which housed a bed, table and chair, a door absent. Our guest was surprisingly sensitive and even shy person. Returning home in the evening, he gently knocked on the door and quietly informed his name. My kutsoe learning German in school yet made it possible to somehow communicate with tenants. He was very homesick and looking tenderly a photo of his ugly bride. Clearly sympathizing with me, he never allowed himself to disrespect. His denschik, a simple villager, knew nothing about this war, endlessly talked about his farm, parents, beloved garden. He "licked" his boss room, cleaned up the last dust resistant suit and cleared the approach to our house from the snow. Often, the lieutenant received a strange breakfast food - sandwiches with raw ground meat. I do not know What it is: the national dish, or a very nutritious product. These same tenants were his neighbors. Some received a parcel from home and treated their masters. My neighbor settled communicators. Hosted an officer there from Innsbruck. He invited us to hear the news from Moscow. We heard the voice of Levitan reports Inform. Be in full information isolation and suddenly hear a voice from Moscow - it was a real shock. Invitations repeated. A month later the regiment went to the front. Impression of my family and mine were very good. Those Germans we saw in the simple human communication.
                                                                                                                                                     

 

 

   

©   -   все авторскае права защищены,   Наталия Рудзина (Natalia Rudsina).