Summary of war stories for children. Short family stories about the war


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School in the partisan region.

T. Cat. ,From the book “Children-Heroes”,
Getting stuck in a marshy swamp, falling and getting up again, we went to our own - to the partisans. The Germans were fierce in their native village.
And for a whole month the Germans bombed our camp. “The partisans have been destroyed,” they finally sent a report to their high command. But invisible hands again derailed trains, blew up weapons warehouses, and destroyed German garrisons.
Summer is over, autumn is already trying on its colorful, crimson outfit. It was difficult for us to imagine September without school.
- These are the letters I know! - eight-year-old Natasha Drozd once said and drew a round “O” in the sand with a stick and next to it - an uneven gate “P”. Her friend drew some numbers. The girls were playing school, and neither one nor the other noticed with what sadness and warmth the commander of the partisan detachment Kovalevsky was watching them. In the evening at the council of commanders he said:
“The kids need school...” and added quietly: “We can’t deprive them of their childhood.”
That same night, Komsomol members Fedya Trutko and Sasha Vasilevsky went out on a combat mission, with Pyotr Ilyich Ivanovsky with them. They returned a few days later. Pencils, pens, primers, and problem books were taken out of their pockets and bosoms. There was a sense of peace and home, of great human care, from these books here, among the swamps, where a mortal battle for life was taking place.
“It’s easier to blow up a bridge than to get your books,” Pyotr Ilyich flashed his teeth cheerfully and took out... a pioneer horn.
None of the partisans said a word about the risk they were exposed to. There could have been an ambush in every house, but it never occurred to any of them to abandon the task or return empty-handed. ,
Three classes were organized: first, second and third. School... Pegs driven into the ground, intertwined with wicker, a cleared area, instead of a board and chalk - sand and a stick, instead of desks - stumps, instead of a roof over your head - camouflage from German planes. In cloudy weather we were plagued by mosquitoes, sometimes snakes crawled in, but we didn’t pay attention to anything.
How the children valued their clearing school, how they hung on every word of the teacher! There were one textbook, two per class. There were no books at all on some subjects. We remembered a lot from the words of the teacher, who sometimes came to class straight from a combat mission, with a rifle in his hands, belted with ammunition.
The soldiers brought everything they could get for us from the enemy, but there was not enough paper. We carefully removed birch bark from fallen trees and wrote on it with coals. There was no case of anyone not doing their homework. Only those guys who were urgently sent to reconnaissance skipped classes.
It turned out that we only had nine pioneers; the remaining twenty-eight guys had to be accepted as pioneers. We sewed a banner from a parachute donated to the partisans and made a pioneer uniform. Partisans were accepted into pioneers, and the detachment commander himself tied ties for new arrivals. The headquarters of the pioneer squad was immediately elected.
Without stopping our studies, we built a new dugout school for the winter. To insulate it, a lot of moss was needed. They pulled it out so hard that their fingers hurt, sometimes they tore off their nails, they cut their hands painfully with grass, but no one complained. No one demanded excellent academic performance from us, but each of us made this demand on ourselves. And when the hard news came that our beloved comrade Sasha Vasilevsky had been killed, all the pioneers of the squad took a solemn oath: to study even better.
At our request, the squad was given the name of a deceased friend. That same night, avenging Sasha, the partisans blew up 14 German vehicles and derailed the train. The Germans sent 75 thousand punitive forces against the partisans. The blockade began again. Everyone who knew how to handle weapons went into battle. Families retreated into the depths of the swamps, and our pioneer squad also retreated. Our clothes were frozen, we ate flour boiled in hot water once a day. But, retreating, we grabbed all our textbooks. Classes continued at the new location. And we kept the oath given to Sasha Vasilevsky. In the spring exams, all the pioneers answered without hesitation. The strict examiners - the detachment commander, the commissar, the teachers - were pleased with us.
As a reward, the best students received the right to participate in shooting competitions. They fired from the detachment commander's pistol. This was the highest honor for the guys.

Stories for schoolchildren about the war. Stories by Sergei Alekseev. Story: Dubosekov's feat; Exam. Stories about the great Moscow battle.

DUBOSEKOV'S FEAT

In mid-November 1941, the Nazis resumed their attack on Moscow. One of the main enemy tank attacks hit General Panfilov’s division.

Dubosekovo crossing. 118th kilometer from Moscow. Field. Hills. Coppices. Lama meanders a little further away. Here on a hill, in an open field, heroes from General Panfilov’s division blocked the Nazis’ path.

There were 28 of them. The fighters were led by political instructor (there was such a position in those years) Klochkov. The soldiers dug into the ground. They clung to the edges of the trenches.

The tanks rushed forward, their engines humming. The soldiers counted:

- Fathers, twenty pieces!

Klochkov grinned:

— Twenty tanks. So this turns out to be less than one per person.

“Less,” said Private Yemtsov.

“Of course, less,” said Petrenko.

Field. Hills. Coppices. Lama meanders a little further away.

The heroes entered the battle.

- Hooray! - echoed over the trenches.

It was the soldiers who first knocked out the tank.

“Hurray!” thunders again. It was the second one who stumbled, snorted with his engine, clanged his armor and froze. And again “Hurray!” And again. Fourteen out of twenty tanks were knocked out by the heroes. The six survivors retreated and crawled away.

Sergeant Petrenko laughed:

“He choked, apparently, the robber.”

- Hey, he has his tail between his legs.

The soldiers took a breath. They see that there is an avalanche again. They counted - thirty fascist tanks.

Political instructor Klochkov looked at the soldiers. Everyone froze. They became quiet. All you can hear is the clang of iron. The tanks are getting closer, closer.

“Friends,” said Klochkov, “Russia is great, but there is nowhere to retreat.” Moscow is behind.

“I see, comrade political instructor,” the soldiers answered.

- Moscow!

The soldiers entered the battle. There are fewer and fewer living heroes. Yemtsov and Petrenko fell. Bondarenko died. Trofimov died. Narsunbai Yesebulatov was killed. Shopokov. There are fewer and fewer soldiers and grenades.

Klochkov himself was wounded. He rose towards the tank. Threw a grenade. A fascist tank was blown up. The joy of victory lit up Klochkov’s face. And at that very second the hero was struck down by a bullet. Political instructor Klochkov fell.

Panfilov's heroes fought steadfastly. They proved that courage has no limits. They did not let the Nazis through.

Dubosekovo crossing. Field. Hills. Coppices. Somewhere nearby a Lama is meandering. The Dubosekovo crossing is a dear, holy place for every Russian heart.

EXAM

Lieutenant Zhulin was unlucky.

All friends are in combat regiments. Zhulin serves in a training company.

A militia lieutenant trains. Thousands of volunteers rose to defend Moscow. Companies, regiments and even entire divisions of people's militia were created.

The militias have little military knowledge. Where the trigger on a rifle is and where the firing pin is is often confused.

Zhulin trains militias in target shooting. Teaches how to stab bags with a bayonet.

The young officer is burdened by his position. Fighting is taking place near Moscow itself. The enemy envelops the Soviet capital in a huge semi-ring. Bursting from the north, bursting from the south. Attacks head on. Dmitrov, Klin, Istra are in the hands of the Nazis. The fighting is taking place just forty kilometers from Moscow, near the village of Kryukovo.

Zhulin is eager to join his friends at the front. Submits a report to superiors.

I applied once and they refused.

I submitted two and they refused.

I applied three times and they refused.

“Go to your militia,” the authorities answer him.

It ended with Zhulin’s superiors threatening to come to him with an inspection. He will give both him and the fighters an exam.

And rightly so. A day or two passed. Zhulin looked - the authorities had arrived. In addition, the highest authorities are the general himself in the car.

On this day, the lieutenant conducted training with the soldiers in the forest, in a forest clearing, not far from the village of Nakhabino. The soldiers dug trenches. They were shooting at targets.

Quiet, grace all around. Pine trees stand and spruce trees.

Zhulin rushed to meet the general and raised his hand to his cap.

“Comrade General, Lieutenant Zhulin’s company...” Zhulin began to report. Suddenly he hears the drone of an airplane right above his head. Zhulin raised his eyes - an airplane. He sees: not ours - fascist.

The lieutenant stopped his report and turned to the soldiers.

- To battle! - gave the command.

Meanwhile, the fascist plane turned around and opened fire on the clearing. It’s good that the soldiers dug trenches, they took cover from the bullets.

- Fire at the fascist! — Zhulin commands.

The militia opened fire.

A second, two - and suddenly an enemy plane burst into flames. Another second - the pilot jumped out. The parachute opened and landed at the very edge of the clearing.

The soldiers ran and took the fascist prisoner.

Zhulin is happy. He straightened his cap and straightened his tunic. He stepped towards the general again. Trumped. Standing at attention.

— Comrade General, Lieutenant Zhulin’s company is conducting training sessions.

The general smiled and turned to the militia:

- Thank you for your service, comrades!

“We serve the Soviet Union,” the militia answered unanimously, exactly according to the regulations.

“At ease,” said the general. He looked at Zhulin approvingly.

Two majors also arrived with the general.

“Comrade General,” the majors whisper, “let me begin the exam.”

- Why? - said the general. — I think the exam has been passed.

Olga Pirozhkova

No matter how much time has passed since the Victory Day, the events of the forties of the twentieth century are still fresh in the memory of the people, and the works of writers play an important role in this. What books about war for preschool children can teachers of preschool institutions be advised to read?

Of course, the most interesting for them will be those works whose heroes are their peers. What did their peers go through? How did you behave in difficult situations?

Children's literature about the Second World War can be divided into two large parts: poetry and prose. Stories about the Great Patriotic War for preschool children tell about children and teenagers who participated in the fight against the invaders, introducing modern children to the exploits of their grandparents. These works are filled with an informational component that requires enormous preliminary work by both the children and the teachers themselves. Preschoolers empathize with the characters of A. Gaidar, L. Kassil, A. Mityaev, and are worried; for the first time they realize the cruelty and mercilessness of war towards ordinary people, they are horrified by the atrocities of fascism and attacks on civilians.

Rules for reading literature about war to preschoolers:

Be sure to read the work first and, if necessary, retell it to the children, reading only a small piece of the work of art.

Carry out the required preliminary work, revealing all the necessary information points.

Select works of art based on the age of the children (give additional information in your own words).

Be sure to read the works several times, especially if children ask.

Younger preschoolers can start reading books on military topics. Of course, it will be difficult for them to understand large genre forms - stories, novels, but short stories written specifically for children are quite accessible even to children 3-5 years old. Before introducing a child to works about war, it is necessary to prepare him to perceive the topic: give a little information from history, focusing not on dates and numbers (children at this age do not yet perceive them, but on the moral aspect of war. Tell young readers about how soldiers courageously defended their homeland, how old people, women and children died, how innocent people were captured... And only when the child has formed an idea of ​​​​what “war” is, you can offer him stories about this difficult time in the history of the country:

Junior group:

Orlov Vladimir “My brother is joining the Army.”

"The Tale of the Loud Drum" Publishing House "Children's Literature", 1985

Memorizing poems about the army, courage, friendship.

Middle group:

Georgievskaya S. “Galina’s mother”

Mityaev Anatoly “Why is the Army dear”

"Taiga gift"

Reading poems: “Mother Earth” by Ya Abidov, “Remember Forever” by M. Isakovsky

Reading poems: “Mass Graves” by V. Vysotsky, “Soviet Warrior”,

Reading the story “Father’s Field” by V. Krupin,

Reading poems: “The war ended with victory” by T. Trutnev,

L. Kassil "Your defenders". Mityaeva A. “Grandfather’s Order”

When children get older (5-7 years old), adults constantly remind them that they are “no longer little.” The war did not give children time to grow up - they immediately became adults! Girls and boys, left orphans, were forced to survive in the most difficult wartime conditions. Works telling about the fate of children who have lost all their loved ones do not leave any reader indifferent: it is impossible to read them without tears. These books about the war for children will help the younger generation learn to truly love their family, appreciate all that is good, what is in their life.Preschoolers of senior preschool age can be offered the following literary works:

Senior group:

Kim Selikhov, Yuri Deryugin “Parade on Red Square”, 1980

Sobolev Leonid “Battalion of Four”

Alekseev Sergey “Orlovich-Voronovich”, “Overcoat” by E. Blaginin, 1975

Reading the works of S.P. Alekseev “Brest Fortress”.

Y. Dlugolesky “What soldiers can do”

O. Vysotskaya “My brother went to the border”

Reading A. Gaidar’s story “War and Children”

U. Brazhnin “The Overcoat”

Cherkashin “Doll”

Preparatory group:

L. Kassil “Main Army”, 1987

Mityaev Anatoly “Dugout”

Lavrenev B. “Big Heart”

Zotov Boris “The Fate of Army Commander Mironov”, 1991

“Stories about War” (K. Simonov, A. Tolstoy, M. Sholokhov, L. Kassil, A. Mityaev, V. Oseeva)

L. Kassil “Monument to a Soldier”, “Your Defenders”

S. Baruzdin “Stories about war”

S. Mikhalkov “Victory Day”

S. P. Alekseev “Brest Fortress”.

Y. Taits “Cycle of stories about the war.”

retelling of L. Kassil's story “Sister”

Children will learn about how fragile the world can be and how an enemy invasion can turn a person’s whole life upside down by listening to books about the Second World War. The war does not end in one day - its echoes resound in the hearts of people for decades. It is thanks to the works of authors who were contemporaries of the terrible wartime that today’s youth can imagine the events of those years, learn about the tragic fates of people, about the courage and heroism shown by the defenders of the Fatherland. And, of course, the best books about war instill a spirit of patriotism in young readers; give a holistic idea of ​​the Great Patriotic War; They teach you to value peace and love home, family, and loved ones. No matter how distant the past is, the memory of it is important: children, having become adults, must do everything to ensure that the tragic pages of history are never repeated in the life of the people.

“MONUMENT TO THE SOVIET SOLDIER”

L. Kassil

The war went on for a long time.
Our troops began to advance on enemy soil. The fascists have nowhere to run anymore. They settled in the main German city of Berlin.
Our troops attacked Berlin. The last battle of the war has begun. No matter how the Nazis fought back, they could not resist. The soldiers of the Soviet Army in Berlin began to take street by street, house by house. But the fascists still don’t give up.
And suddenly one of our soldiers, a kind soul, saw a little German girl on the street during a battle. Apparently, she has fallen behind her own people. And they, out of fear, forgot about her... The poor thing was left alone in the middle of the street. And she has nowhere to go. There is a battle going on all around. Fire is blazing from all the windows, bombs are exploding, houses are collapsing, bullets are whistling from all sides. He’s about to crush you with a stone, or kill you with a shrapnel... Our soldier sees that a girl is disappearing... “Oh, you bastard, where has this taken you, you wicked thing!..”
The soldier rushed across the street right under the bullets, picked up the German girl in his arms, shielded her from the fire with his shoulder and carried her out of the battle.
And soon our soldiers had already raised the red flag over the most important house in the German capital.
The Nazis surrendered. And the war ended. We won. The world has begun.
And now they have built a huge monument in the city of Berlin. High above the houses, on a green hill, stands a hero made of stone - a soldier of the Soviet Army. In one hand he has a heavy sword, with which he defeated the fascist enemies, and in the other - a little girl. She pressed herself against the broad shoulder of a Soviet soldier. His soldiers saved her from death, saved all the children in the world from the Nazis, and today he looks menacingly from above to see if the evil enemies are going to start a war again and disrupt the peace.

"FIRST COLUMN"

S. Alekseev

(stories by Sergei Alekseev about Leningraders and the feat of Leningrad).
In 1941, the Nazis blockaded Leningrad. The city was cut off from the entire country. It was possible to get to Leningrad only by water, along Lake Ladoga.
In November there were frosts. The water road froze and stopped.
The road stopped - that means there will be no supply of food, that means there will be no supply of fuel, there will be no supply of ammunition. Leningrad needs a road like air, like oxygen.
- There will be a road! - said the people.
Lake Ladoga will freeze, and Ladoga (as Lake Ladoga is called for short) will be covered with strong ice. The road will go on the ice.
Not everyone believed in such a path. Ladoga is restless and capricious. Blizzards will rage, a piercing wind will blow over the lake, and cracks and gullies will appear on the ice of the lake. Ladoga breaks its ice armor. Even the most severe frosts cannot completely freeze Lake Ladoga.
Capricious, treacherous Lake Ladoga. And yet there is no other way out. There are fascists all around. Only here, along Lake Ladoga, can the road go to Leningrad.
The most difficult days in Leningrad. Communication with Leningrad stopped. People are waiting for the ice on Lake Ladoga to become strong enough. And this is not a day, not two. They look at the ice, at the lake. The thickness is measured by ice. Old-time fishermen also monitor the lake. How is the ice on Ladoga?
- It's growing.
- It's growing.
- Takes strength.
People are worried and rushing for time.
“Faster, faster,” they shout to Ladoga. - Hey, don’t be lazy, frost!
Hydrologists (those who study water and ice) arrived at Lake Ladoga, builders and army commanders arrived. We were the first to decide to walk on the fragile ice.
The hydrologists passed through and the ice survived.
The builders passed by and withstood the ice.
Major Mozhaev, commander of the road maintenance regiment, rode on horseback and withstood the ice.
The horse train walked across the ice. The sleigh survived the journey.
General Lagunov, one of the commanders of the Leningrad Front, drove across the ice in a passenger car. The ice crackled, creaked, became angry, but let the car through.
On November 22, 1941, the first automobile convoy set off across the still-unhardened ice of Lake Ladoga. There were 60 trucks in the convoy. From here, from the western bank, from the side of Leningrad, trucks left for cargo to the eastern bank.
There is not a kilometer, not two, but twenty-seven kilometers of icy road ahead. They are waiting on the western Leningrad coast for the return of people and convoys.
- Will they come back? Will you get stuck? Will they come back? Will you get stuck?
A day has passed. And so:
- They're coming!
That's right, the cars are coming, the convoy is returning. There are three or four bags of flour in the back of each car. Haven't taken any more yet. The ice is not strong. True, the cars were towed by sleighs. There were also sacks of flour in the sleigh, two and three at a time.
From that day on, constant movement on the ice of Lake Ladoga began. Soon severe frosts struck. The ice has strengthened. Now each truck took 20, 30 bags of flour. They also transported other heavy loads across the ice.
The road was not easy. There was not always luck here. The ice broke under the pressure of the wind. Sometimes cars sank. Fascist planes bombed the columns from the air. And again ours suffered losses. The engines froze along the way. The drivers froze on the ice. And yet, neither day nor night, nor in a snowstorm, nor in the most severe frost, the ice road across Lake Ladoga did not stop working.
These were the most difficult days of Leningrad. Stop the road - death to Leningrad.
The road did not stop. Leningraders called it “The Road of Life”.

"TANYA SAVICHEVA"

S. Alekseev

Hunger is spreading deathly through the city. Leningrad cemeteries cannot accommodate the dead. People died at the machines. They died on the streets. They went to bed at night and didn’t wake up in the morning. More than 600 thousand people died of hunger in Leningrad.
This house also rose among the Leningrad houses. This is the Savichevs' house. A girl was bending over the pages of a notebook. Her name is Tanya. Tanya Savicheva keeps a diary.
Notebook with alphabet. Tanya opens a page with the letter “F”. Writes:
“Zhenya died on December 28 at 12.30 p.m. morning. 1941."
Zhenya is Tanya's sister.
Soon Tanya sits down again to her diary. Opens a page with the letter “B”. Writes:
“Grandmother died on January 25th. at 3 o'clock in the afternoon 1942." A new page from Tanya's diary. Page starting with the letter "L". We read:
“Leka died on March 17 at 5 a.m. 1942.” Leka is Tanya's brother.
Another page from Tanya's diary. Page starting with the letter "B". We read:
“Uncle Vasya died on April 13. at 2 am. 1942." One more page. Also with the letter "L". But it is written on the back of the sheet: “Uncle Lyosha. May 10 at 4 p.m. 1942.” Here is the page with the letter "M". We read: “Mom May 13 at 7:30 am. morning 1942." Tanya sits for a long time over the diary. Then he opens the page with the letter “C”. He writes: “The Savichevs have died.”
Opens a page starting with the letter “U”. He clarifies: “Everyone died.”
I sat. I looked at the diary. I opened the page to the letter “O”. She wrote: “Tanya is the only one left.”
Tanya was saved from starvation. They took the girl out of Leningrad.
But Tanya did not live long. Her health was undermined by hunger, cold, and the loss of loved ones. Tanya Savicheva also passed away. Tanya died. The diary remains. "Death to the Nazis!" - the diary screams.

"FUR COAT"

S. Alekseev

A group of Leningrad children were taken out of Leningrad, besieged by the Nazis, along the “Dear Life”. The car set off.
January. Freezing. The cold wind whips. Driver Koryakov is sitting behind the steering wheel. It drives the lorry exactly.
The children huddled together in the car. Girl, girl, girl again. Boy, girl, boy again. And here's another one. The smallest, most frail. All the guys are thin, like thin children's books. And this one is completely skinny, like a page from this book.
Guys gathered from different places. Some from Okhta, some from Narvskaya, some from the Vyborg side, some from Kirovsky Island, some from Vasilievsky. And this one, imagine, from Nevsky Prospekt. Nevsky Prospekt is the central, main street of Leningrad. The boy lived here with his father and mother. A shell hit and my parents died. And the others, those who are now traveling in the car, were also left without mothers and fathers. Their parents also died. Some died of hunger, some were hit by a Nazi bomb, some were crushed by a collapsed house, and some had their lives cut short by a shell. The boys were left completely alone. Aunt Olya accompanies them. Aunt Olya is a teenager herself. Less than fifteen years old.
The guys are coming. They clung to each other. Girl, girl, girl again. Boy, girl, boy again. In the very heart is a baby. The guys are coming. January. Freezing. Blows the children in the wind. Aunt Olya wrapped her arms around them. These warm hands make everyone feel warmer.
A lorry is walking on the January ice. Ladoga froze to the right and left. The frost over Ladoga is getting stronger and stronger. The children's backs are stiff. It's not children sitting - icicles.
I wish I had a fur coat now.
And suddenly... The truck slowed down and stopped. The driver Koryakov got out of the cab. He took off his warm soldier's sheepskin coat. He tossed Ole up and shouted: . - Catch!
Olya picked up the sheepskin coat:
- How about you... Yes, really, we...
- Take it, take it! - Koryakov shouted and jumped into his cabin.
The guys look - a fur coat! Just the sight of it makes it warmer.
The driver sat down in his driver's seat. The car started moving again. Aunt Olya covered the boys with a sheepskin coat. The children huddled even closer to each other. Girl, girl, girl again. Boy, girl, boy again. In the very heart is a baby. The sheepskin coat turned out to be big and kind. Warmth ran down the children's backs.
Koryakov took the guys to the eastern shore of Lake Ladoga and delivered them to the village of Kobona. From here, from Kobona, they still had a long, long journey ahead of them. Koryakov said goodbye to Aunt Olya. I started saying goodbye to the guys. Holds a sheepskin coat in his hands. He looks at the sheepskin coat and at the guys. Oh, the guys would like a sheepskin coat for the road... But it’s a government-issued sheepskin coat, not your own. The bosses will immediately take off their heads. The driver looks at the guys, at the sheepskin coat. And suddenly...
- Eh, it was not! - Koryakov waved his hand.
I went further with the sheepskin sheepskin coat.
His superiors did not scold him. They gave me a new fur coat.

"BEAR"

S. Alekseev

In those days when the division was sent to the front, the soldiers of one of the Siberian divisions were given a small bear cub by their fellow countrymen. Mishka has gotten comfortable with the soldier's heated vehicle. It’s important to go to the front.
Toptygin arrived at the front. The little bear turned out to be extremely smart. And most importantly, from birth he had a heroic character. I wasn't afraid of bombings. Didn't hide in corners during artillery shelling. He only rumbled dissatisfiedly if shells exploded very close.
Mishka visited the Southwestern Front, and then was part of the troops that defeated the Nazis at Stalingrad. Then for some time he was with the troops in the rear, in the front reserve. Then he ended up as part of the 303rd Infantry Division on the Voronezh Front, then on the Central Front, and again on the Voronezh Front. He was in the armies of generals Managarov, Chernyakhovsky, and again Managarov. The bear cub grew up during this time. There was a sound in the shoulders. The bass cut through. It became a boyar fur coat.
The bear distinguished himself in the battles near Kharkov. At the crossings, he walked with the convoy in the economic convoy. It was the same this time. There were heavy, bloody battles. One day, an economic convoy came under heavy attack from the Nazis. The Nazis surrounded the column. Unequal forces are difficult for us. The soldiers took up defensive positions. Only the defense is weak. The Soviet soldiers would not have left.
But suddenly the Nazis hear some kind of terrible roar! “What would it be?” - the fascists wonder. We listened and took a closer look.
- Ber! Ber! Bear! - someone shouted.
That's right - Mishka stood up on his hind legs, growled and went towards the Nazis. The Nazis didn’t expect it and rushed to the side. And ours struck at that moment. We escaped from the encirclement.
The bear walked like a hero.
“He should be a reward,” the soldiers laughed.
He received a reward: a plate of fragrant honey. He ate and purred. He licked the plate until it was shiny and shiny. Added honey. Added again. Eat, fill up, hero. Toptygin!
Soon the Voronezh Front was renamed the 1st Ukrainian Front. Together with the front troops, Mishka went to the Dnieper.
Mishka has grown up. Quite a giant. Where can soldiers tinker with such a huge thing during a war? The soldiers decided: if we come to Kyiv, we’ll put him in the zoo. We will write on the cage: the bear is an honored veteran and participant in a great battle.
However, the road to Kyiv passed. Their division passed by. There was no bear left in the menagerie. Even the soldiers are happy now.
From Ukraine Mishka came to Belarus. He took part in the battles near Bobruisk, then ended up in the army that marched to Belovezhskaya Pushcha.
Belovezhskaya Pushcha is a paradise for animals and birds. The best place on the entire planet. The soldiers decided: this is where we’ll leave Mishka.
- That's right: under his pine trees. Under the spruce.
- This is where he finds freedom.
Our troops liberated the area of ​​Belovezhskaya Pushcha. And now the hour of separation has come. The fighters and the bear are standing in a forest clearing.
- Goodbye, Toptygin!
- Walk free!
- Live, start a family!
Mishka stood in the clearing. He stood up on his hind legs. I looked at the green thickets. I smelled the forest smell through my nose.
He walked with a roller gait into the forest. From paw to paw. From paw to paw. The soldiers look after:
- Be happy, Mikhail Mikhalych!
And suddenly a terrible explosion thundered in the clearing. The soldiers ran towards the explosion - Toptygin was dead and motionless.
A bear stepped on a fascist mine. We checked - there are a lot of them in Belovezhskaya Pushcha.
The war moved further west. But for a long time, wild boars, handsome elk, and giant bison exploded on mines here, in Belovezhskaya Pushcha.
The war marches on without pity. War has no weariness.

"STING"

S. Alekseev

Our troops liberated Moldova. They pushed the Nazis beyond the Dnieper, beyond Reut. They took Floresti, Tiraspol, Orhei. We approached the capital of Moldova, the city of Chisinau.
Here two of our fronts attacked at once - the 2nd Ukrainian and the 3rd Ukrainian. Near Chisinau, Soviet troops were supposed to surround a large fascist group. Carry out the front directions of the Headquarters. The 2nd Ukrainian Front advances north and west of Chisinau. To the east and south is the 3rd Ukrainian Front. Generals Malinovsky and Tolbukhin stood at the head of the fronts.
“Fyodor Ivanovich,” General Malinovsky calls General Tolbukhin, “how is the offensive developing?”
“Everything is going according to plan, Rodion Yakovlevich,” General Tolbukhin answers General Malinovsky.
The troops are marching forward. They bypass the enemy. The pincers begin to squeeze.
“Rodion Yakovlevich,” General Tolbukhin calls General Malinovsky, “how is the environment developing?”
“The encirclement is going well, Fyodor Ivanovich,” General Malinovsky answers General Tolbukhin and clarifies: “Exactly according to plan, on time.”
And then the giant pincers closed in. There were eighteen fascist divisions in a huge bag near Chisinau. Our troops began to defeat the fascists who were caught in the bag.
The Soviet soldiers are happy:
“The animal will be caught again with a trap.”
There was talk: the fascist is no longer scary, even take it with your bare hands.
However, soldier Igoshin had a different opinion:
- A fascist is a fascist. A serpentine character is a serpentine character. A wolf is a wolf in a trap.
The soldiers laugh:
- So what time was it!
- Nowadays the price for a fascist is different.
“A fascist is a fascist,” Igoshin said again about himself.
That's a bad character!
It’s getting more and more difficult for the fascists in the bag. They began to surrender. They also surrendered in the sector of the 68th Guards Rifle Division. Igoshin served in one of its battalions.
A group of fascists came out of the forest. Everything is as it should be: hands up, a white flag thrown over the group.
- It’s clear - they’re going to give up.
The soldiers perked up and shouted to the fascists:
- Please, please! It is high time!
The soldiers turned to Igoshin:
- Well, why is your fascist scary?
Soldiers are crowding around, looking at the fascists coming to surrender. There are newcomers to the battalion. This is the first time that the Nazis have been seen so close. And they, newcomers, are also not at all afraid of the Nazis - after all, they are going to surrender.
The Nazis are getting closer, closer. Very close. And suddenly a burst of machine gun fire rang out. The Nazis started shooting.
A lot of our people would have died. Yes, thanks to Igoshin. He kept his weapon ready. Immediately the response opened fire. Then others helped.
The firing on the field died down. The soldiers approached Igoshin:
- Thank you brother. And the fascist, look, actually has a snake-like sting.
The Chisinau “cauldron” caused a lot of trouble for our soldiers. The fascists rushed about. They rushed in different directions. They resorted to deception and meanness. They tried to leave. But in vain. The soldiers squeezed them with their heroic hand. Pinched. Squeezed. The snake's sting was pulled out.

"A BAG OF OATMEAL"
A.V. Mityaev

That autumn there were long, cold rains. The ground was saturated with water, the roads were muddy. On the country roads, stuck up to their axles in mud, stood military trucks. The supply of food became very bad. In the soldier's kitchen, the cook cooked only soup from crackers every day: he poured cracker crumbs into hot water and seasoned with salt.
On such and such hungry days, soldier Lukashuk found a bag of oatmeal. He wasn't looking for anything, he just leaned his shoulder against the wall of the trench. A block of damp sand collapsed, and everyone saw the edge of a green duffel bag in the hole.
What a find! the soldiers rejoiced. There will be a feast on the mountain. Let's cook porridge!
One ran with a bucket for water, others began to look for firewood, and still others had already prepared spoons.
But when they managed to fan the fire and it was already hitting the bottom of the bucket, an unfamiliar soldier jumped into the trench. He was thin and red-haired. The eyebrows above the blue eyes are also red. The overcoat is worn out and short. There are windings and trampled shoes on my feet.
-Hey, bro! - he shouted in a hoarse, cold voice. - Give me the bag here! Don't put it down, don't take it.
He simply stunned everyone with his appearance, and they gave him the bag right away.
And how could you not give it away? According to front-line law, it was necessary to give it up. Soldiers hid duffel bags in trenches when they went on the attack. To make it easier. Of course, there were bags left without an owner: either it was impossible to return for them (this is if the attack was successful and it was necessary to drive out the Nazis), or the soldier died. But since the owner has arrived, the conversation will be short.
The soldiers watched silently as the red-haired man carried away the precious bag on his shoulder. Only Lukashuk could not stand it and quipped:
-He’s so skinny! They gave him extra rations. Let him eat. If it doesn't burst, it might get fatter.
It's getting cold. Snow. The earth froze and became hard. Delivery has improved. The cook was cooking cabbage soup with meat and pea soup with ham in the kitchen on wheels. Everyone forgot about the red soldier and his porridge.

A big offensive was being prepared.
Long lines of infantry battalions walked along hidden forest roads and along ravines. At night, tractors dragged guns to the front line, and tanks moved.
Lukashuk and his comrades were also preparing for the attack. It was still dark when the cannons opened fire. The planes began to hum in the sky.
They threw bombs at fascist dugouts and fired machine guns at enemy trenches.
The planes took off. Then the tanks began to rumble. The infantrymen rushed after them to attack. Lukashuk and his comrades also ran and fired from a machine gun. He threw a grenade into a German trench, wanted to throw more, but didn’t have time: the bullet hit him in the chest. And he fell. Lukashuk lay in the snow and did not feel that the snow was cold. Some time passed and he stopped hearing the roar of battle. Then he stopped seeing the light, it seemed to him that a dark, quiet night had come.
When Lukashuk regained consciousness, he saw an orderly. The orderly bandaged the wound and put Lukashuk in a small plywood sled. The sled slid and swayed in the snow. This quiet swaying made Lukashuk feel dizzy. But he didn’t want his head to spin, he wanted to remember where he saw this orderly, red-haired and thin, in a worn out overcoat.
-Hold on, brother! Don’t live in timidity!.. he heard the orderly’s words.
It seemed to Lukashuk that he had known this voice for a long time. But where and when I heard it before, I could no longer remember.
Lukashuk regained consciousness when he was transferred from the boat onto a stretcher to be taken to a large tent under the pine trees: here, in the forest, a military doctor was pulling out bullets and shrapnel from the wounded.
Lying on a stretcher, Lukashuk saw a sled-boat on which he was being transported to the hospital. Three dogs were tied to the sled with straps. They were lying in the snow. Icicles froze on the fur. The muzzles were covered with frost, the dogs' eyes were half-closed.
The orderly approached the dogs. In his hands he had a helmet full of oatmeal. Steam was pouring out of her. The orderly stuck his helmet into the snow to tap the dogs because it was dangerously hot. The orderly was thin and red-haired. And then Lukashuk remembered where he had seen him. It was he who then jumped into the trench and took a bag of oatmeal from them.
Lukashuk smiled at the orderly with just his lips and, coughing and choking, said:
-And you, redhead, haven’t gained weight. One of them ate a bag of oatmeal, but he was still thin.
The orderly also smiled and, stroking the nearest dog, answered:
-They ate the oatmeal. But they got you there on time. And I recognized you immediately. As soon as I saw it in the snow, I recognized it.
And he added with conviction: You will live! Don't be timid!

"TANKMAN'S STORY"

A. Tvardovsky

It was a difficult fight. Everything now is as if from sleep,


What’s his name, I forgot to ask him.
About ten or twelve years old. Bedovy,
Of those who are the leaders of children,
From those in the front-line towns
They greet us like dear guests.
The car is surrounded in parking lots,
Carrying water to them in buckets is not difficult,
Bring soap and towel to the tank
And unripe plums are put in...
There was a battle going on outside. The enemy fire was terrible,
We made our way forward to the square.
And he nails - you can’t look out of the towers, -
And the devil will understand where he’s hitting from.
Here, guess which house is behind
He sat down - there were so many holes,
And suddenly a boy ran up to the car:
- Comrade commander, comrade commander!
I know where their gun is. I scouted...
I crawled up, they were over there in the garden...
- But where, where?.. - Let me go
On the tank with you. I'll give it straight away.
Well, no fight awaits. - Get in here, buddy! -
And so the four of us roll to the place.
The boy is standing - mines, bullets whistling,
And only the shirt has a bubble.
We've arrived. - Here. - And from a turn
We go to the rear and give full throttle.
And this gun, along with the crew,
We sank into loose, greasy black soil.
I wiped off the sweat. Smothered by fumes and soot:
There was a big fire going from house to house.
And I remember I said: “Thank you, lad!” -
And he shook hands like a comrade...
It was a difficult fight. Everything now is as if from sleep,
And I just can’t forgive myself:
From thousands of faces I would recognize the boy,
But what’s his name, I forgot to ask him.

"The Adventures of the Rhinoceros Beetle"
(A Soldier's Tale)
K. G. Paustovsky

When Pyotr Terentyev left the village to go to war, his little son Styopa
didn’t know what to give my father as a farewell gift, and finally gave him an old one
rhinoceros beetle. He caught him in the garden and put him in a matchbox. Rhinoceros
angry, knocking, demanding to be let out. But Styopa didn’t let him go, but
I slipped blades of grass into the box so that the beetle would not die of hunger. Rhinoceros
He chewed blades of grass, but still continued to knock and curse.
Styopa cut a small window in the box for fresh air. Bug
he stuck his furry paw out the window and tried to grab Styopa’s finger - he wanted to
must have scratched from anger. But Styopa didn’t give a finger. Then the beetle began
Buzzing so loudly out of annoyance that Styopa Akulina’s mother shouted:
- Let him out, damn it! All day long he's buzzing and buzzing, he's giving me headaches
swollen!
Pyotr Terentyev grinned at Styopa’s gift and stroked Styopa’s head.
with a rough hand and hid the box with the beetle in his gas mask bag.
“Just don’t lose it, take care of it,” said Styopa.
“It’s okay to lose such gifts,” answered Peter. - Somehow
I'll save it.
Either the beetle liked the smell of rubber, or Peter smelled pleasantly of his overcoat and
black bread, but the beetle calmed down and rode with Peter all the way to the front.
At the front, the soldiers marveled at the beetle, touched its strong horn with their fingers,
They listened to Peter’s story about his son’s gift and said:
- What did the boy come up with! And the beetle, apparently, is a fighting one. Directly a corporal, not
bug.
The fighters wondered how long the beetle would last and how it was doing with
food allowance - what Peter will feed and water him with. Although he is without water
beetle, but it won’t be able to live.
Peter smiled embarrassedly and replied that if you give a beetle a spikelet, he
and eats for a week. How much does he need?
One night, Peter dozed off in a trench and dropped the box with the beetle from his bag. Bug
He tossed and turned for a long time, opened a crack in the box, climbed out, moved his antennae,
listened. In the distance the earth rumbled and yellow lightning flashed.
The beetle climbed onto an elderberry bush at the edge of the trench to get a better look around. Such
he had not yet seen a thunderstorm. There was too much lightning. The stars didn't hang still
in the sky, like a beetle in its homeland, in Petrova Village, but took off from the ground,
illuminated everything around with a bright light, smoked and went out. Thunder roared continuously.
Some beetles whizzed past. One of them hit the bush like that
elderberry, that red berries fell from it. The old rhinoceros fell, pretended
dead and was afraid to move for a long time. He realized that it was better not to deal with such beetles.
get in touch - there were too many of them whistling around.
So he lay there until the morning, until the sun rose.

L. Cassil.

Monument to the Soviet soldier.

The war went on for a long time.

Our troops began to advance on enemy soil. The fascists have nowhere to run anymore. They settled in the main German city of Berlin.

Our troops attacked Berlin. The last battle of the war has begun. No matter how the Nazis fought back, they could not resist. The soldiers of the Soviet Army in Berlin began to take street by street, house by house. But the fascists still don’t give up.

And suddenly one of our soldiers, a kind soul, saw a little German girl on the street during a battle. Apparently, she has fallen behind her own people. And they, out of fear, forgot about her... The poor thing was left alone in the middle of the street. And she has nowhere to go. There is a battle going on all around. Fire is blazing from all the windows, bombs are exploding, houses are collapsing, bullets are whistling from all sides. He’s about to crush you with a stone, or kill you with a shrapnel... Our soldier sees that a girl is disappearing... “Oh, you bastard, where has this taken you, you wicked thing!..”

The soldier rushed across the street right under the bullets, picked up the German girl in his arms, shielded her from the fire with his shoulder and carried her out of the battle.

And soon our soldiers had already raised the red flag over the most important house in the German capital.

The Nazis surrendered. And the war ended. We won. The world has begun.

And now they have built a huge monument in the city of Berlin. High above the houses, on a green hill, stands a hero made of stone - a soldier of the Soviet Army. In one hand he has a heavy sword, with which he defeated the fascist enemies, and in the other - a little girl. She pressed herself against the broad shoulder of a Soviet soldier. His soldiers saved her from death, saved all the children in the world from the Nazis, and today he looks menacingly from above to see if the evil enemies are going to start a war again and disrupt the peace.

Sergey Alekseev.

First column.

(stories by Sergei Alekseev about Leningraders and the feat of Leningrad).

In 1941, the Nazis blockaded Leningrad. The city was cut off from the entire country. It was possible to get to Leningrad only by water, along Lake Ladoga.

In November there were frosts. The water road froze and stopped.

The road stopped - that means there will be no supply of food, that means there will be no supply of fuel, there will be no supply of ammunition. Leningrad needs a road like air, like oxygen.

There will be a road! - the people said.

Lake Ladoga will freeze, and Ladoga (as Lake Ladoga is called for short) will be covered with strong ice. The road will go on the ice.

Not everyone believed in such a path. Ladoga is restless and capricious. Blizzards will rage, a piercing wind will blow over the lake, and cracks and gullies will appear on the ice of the lake. Ladoga breaks its ice armor. Even the most severe frosts cannot completely freeze Lake Ladoga.

Capricious, treacherous Lake Ladoga. And yet there is no other way out. There are fascists all around. Only here, along Lake Ladoga, can the road go to Leningrad.

The most difficult days in Leningrad. Communication with Leningrad stopped. People are waiting for the ice on Lake Ladoga to become strong enough. And this is not a day, not two. They look at the ice, at the lake. The thickness is measured by ice. Old-time fishermen also monitor the lake. How is the ice on Ladoga?

Growing.

It's growing.

Takes strength.

People are worried and rushing for time.

Faster, faster,” they shout to Ladoga. - Hey, don't be lazy, frost!

Hydrologists (those who study water and ice) arrived at Lake Ladoga, builders and army commanders arrived. We were the first to decide to walk on the fragile ice.

Hydrologists passed through and the ice survived.

The builders passed by and withstood the ice.

Major Mozhaev, commander of the road maintenance regiment, rode on horseback and withstood the ice.

The horse train walked across the ice. The sleigh survived the journey.

General Lagunov, one of the commanders of the Leningrad Front, drove across the ice in a passenger car. The ice crackled, creaked, became angry, but let the car through.

On November 22, 1941, the first automobile convoy set off across the still-unhardened ice of Lake Ladoga. There were 60 trucks in the convoy. From here, from the western bank, from the side of Leningrad, trucks left for cargo to the eastern bank.

There is not a kilometer ahead, not two - twenty-seven kilometers of icy road. They are waiting on the western Leningrad coast for the return of people and convoys.

Will they come back? Will you get stuck? Will they come back? Will you get stuck?

A day has passed. And so:

They're coming!

That's right, the cars are coming, the convoy is returning. There are three or four bags of flour in the back of each car. Haven't taken any more yet. The ice is not strong. True, the cars were towed by sleighs. There were also sacks of flour in the sleigh, two and three at a time.

From that day on, constant movement on the ice of Lake Ladoga began. Soon severe frosts struck. The ice has strengthened. Now each truck took 20, 30 bags of flour. They also transported other heavy loads across the ice.

The road was not easy. There was not always luck here. The ice broke under the pressure of the wind. Sometimes cars sank. Fascist planes bombed the columns from the air. And again ours suffered losses. The engines froze along the way. The drivers froze on the ice. And yet, neither day nor night, nor in a snowstorm, nor in the most severe frost, the ice road across Lake Ladoga did not stop working.

These were the most difficult days of Leningrad. Stop the road - death to Leningrad.

The road did not stop. Leningraders called it “The Road of Life”.

Sergey Alekseev.

Tanya Savicheva.

Hunger is spreading deathly through the city. Leningrad cemeteries cannot accommodate the dead. People died at the machines. They died on the streets. They went to bed at night and didn’t wake up in the morning. More than 600 thousand people died of hunger in Leningrad.

This house also rose among the Leningrad houses. This is the Savichevs' house. A girl was bending over the pages of a notebook. Her name is Tanya. Tanya Savicheva keeps a diary.

Notebook with alphabet. Tanya opens a page with the letter “F”. Writes:

Zhenya is Tanya's sister.

Soon Tanya sits down again to her diary. Opens a page with the letter “B”. Writes:

“Grandmother died on January 25th. at 3 o'clock in the afternoon 1942." A new page from Tanya's diary. Page starting with the letter "L". We read:

Another page from Tanya's diary. Page starting with the letter "B". We read:

“Uncle Vasya died on April 13. at 2 am. 1942." One more page. Also with the letter "L". But it is written on the back of the sheet: “Uncle Lyosha. May 10 at 4 p.m. 1942.” Here is the page with the letter "M". We read: “Mom May 13 at 7:30 am. morning 1942." Tanya sits for a long time over the diary. Then he opens the page with the letter “C”. He writes: “The Savichevs have died.”

Opens a page starting with the letter “U”. He clarifies: “Everyone died.”

I sat. I looked at the diary. I opened the page to the letter “O”. She wrote: “Tanya is the only one left.”

Tanya was saved from starvation. They took the girl out of Leningrad.

But Tanya did not live long. Her health was undermined by hunger, cold, and the loss of loved ones. Tanya Savicheva also passed away. Tanya died. The diary remains. "Death to the Nazis!" - the diary shouts.

Sergey Alekseev

Fur coat.

A group of Leningrad children were taken out of Leningrad, besieged by the Nazis, along the “Dear Life”. The car set off.

January. Freezing. The cold wind whips. Driver Koryakov is sitting behind the steering wheel. It drives the lorry exactly.

The children huddled together in the car. Girl, girl, girl again. Boy, girl, boy again. And here's another one. The smallest, most frail. All the guys are thin, like thin children's books. And this one is completely skinny, like a page from this book.

Guys gathered from different places. Some from Okhta, some from Narvskaya, some from the Vyborg side, some from Kirovsky Island, some from Vasilievsky. And this one, imagine, from Nevsky Prospekt. Nevsky Prospekt is the central, main street of Leningrad. The boy lived here with his father and mother. A shell hit and my parents died. And the others, those who are now traveling in the car, were also left without mothers and fathers. Their parents also died. Some died of hunger, some were hit by a Nazi bomb, some were crushed by a collapsed house, and some had their lives cut short by a shell. The boys were left completely alone. Aunt Olya accompanies them. Aunt Olya is a teenager herself. Less than fifteen years old.

The guys are coming. They clung to each other. Girl, girl, girl again. Boy, girl, boy again. In the very heart is a baby. The guys are coming. January. Freezing. Blows the children in the wind. Aunt Olya wrapped her arms around them. These warm hands make everyone feel warmer.

A lorry is walking on the January ice. Ladoga froze to the right and left. The frost over Ladoga is getting stronger and stronger. The children's backs are stiff. It's not children sitting - icicles.

I wish I had a fur coat now.

And suddenly... The truck slowed down and stopped. The driver Koryakov got out of the cab. He took off his warm soldier's sheepskin coat. He tossed Ole up and shouted: . - Catch!

Olya picked up the sheepskin coat:

How about you... Yes, really, we...

Take it, take it! - Koryakov shouted and jumped into his cabin.

The guys look - a fur coat! Just the sight of it makes it warmer.

The driver sat down in his driver's seat. The car started moving again. Aunt Olya covered the boys with a sheepskin coat. The children huddled even closer to each other. Girl, girl, girl again. Boy, girl, boy again. In the very heart is a baby. The sheepskin coat turned out to be big and kind. Warmth ran down the children's backs.

Koryakov took the guys to the eastern shore of Lake Ladoga and delivered them to the village of Kobona. From here, from Kobona, they still had a long, long journey ahead of them. Koryakov said goodbye to Aunt Olya. I started saying goodbye to the guys. Holds a sheepskin coat in his hands. He looks at the sheepskin coat and at the guys. Oh, the guys would like a sheepskin coat for the road... But it’s a government-issued sheepskin coat, not your own. The bosses will immediately take off their heads. The driver looks at the guys, at the sheepskin coat. And suddenly...

Eh, it was not! - Koryakov waved his hand.

His superiors did not scold him. They gave me a new fur coat.

Stories by Sergei Alekseev

BEAR

In those days when the division was sent to the front, the soldiers of one of the Siberian divisions were given a small bear cub by their fellow countrymen. Mishka has gotten comfortable with the soldier's heated vehicle. It’s important to go to the front.

Toptygin arrived at the front. The little bear turned out to be extremely smart. And most importantly, from birth he had a heroic character. I wasn't afraid of bombings. Didn't hide in corners during artillery shelling. He only rumbled dissatisfiedly if shells exploded very close.

Mishka visited the Southwestern Front, then was part of the troops that defeated the Nazis at Stalingrad. Then for some time he was with the troops in the rear, in the front reserve. Then he ended up as part of the 303rd Infantry Division on the Voronezh Front, then on the Central Front, and again on the Voronezh Front. He was in the armies of generals Managarov, Chernyakhovsky, and again Managarov. The bear cub grew up during this time. There was a sound in the shoulders. The bass cut through. It became a boyar fur coat.

The bear distinguished himself in the battles near Kharkov. At the crossings, he walked with the convoy in the economic convoy. It was the same this time. There were heavy, bloody battles. One day, an economic convoy came under heavy attack from the Nazis. The Nazis surrounded the column. Unequal forces are difficult for us. The soldiers took up defensive positions. Only the defense is weak. The Soviet soldiers would not have left.

But suddenly the Nazis hear some kind of terrible roar! “What would it be?” - the fascists wonder. We listened and took a closer look.

Ber! Ber! Bear! - someone shouted.

That's right - Mishka stood up on his hind legs, growled and went towards the Nazis. The Nazis didn’t expect it and rushed to the side. And ours struck at that moment. We escaped from the encirclement.

The bear walked like a hero.

“He would be a reward,” the soldiers laughed.

He received a reward: a plate of fragrant honey. He ate and purred. He licked the plate until it was shiny and shiny. Added honey. Added again. Eat, fill up, hero. Toptygin!

Soon the Voronezh Front was renamed the 1st Ukrainian Front. Together with the front troops, Mishka went to the Dnieper.

Mishka has grown up. Quite a giant. Where can soldiers tinker with such a huge thing during a war? The soldiers decided: we’ll come to Kyiv and put him in the zoo. We will write on the cage: the bear is an honored veteran and participant in a great battle.

However, the road to Kyiv passed. Their division passed by. There was no bear left in the menagerie. Even the soldiers are happy now.

From Ukraine Mishka came to Belarus. He took part in the battles near Bobruisk, then ended up in the army that marched to Belovezhskaya Pushcha.

Belovezhskaya Pushcha is a paradise for animals and birds. The best place on the entire planet. The soldiers decided: this is where we’ll leave Mishka.

That's right: under his pine trees. Under the spruce.

This is where he finds freedom.

Our troops liberated the area of ​​Belovezhskaya Pushcha. And now the hour of separation has come. The fighters and the bear are standing in a forest clearing.

Goodbye, Toptygin!

Walk free!

Live, start a family!

Mishka stood in the clearing. He stood up on his hind legs. I looked at the green thickets. I smelled the forest smell through my nose.

He walked with a roller gait into the forest. From paw to paw. From paw to paw. The soldiers look after:

Be happy, Mikhail Mikhalych!

And suddenly a terrible explosion thundered in the clearing. The soldiers ran towards the explosion - Toptygin was dead and motionless.

A bear stepped on a fascist mine. We checked - there are a lot of them in Belovezhskaya Pushcha.

The war marches on without pity. War has no weariness.

Stories by Sergei Alekseev

STING

Our troops liberated Moldova. They pushed the Nazis beyond the Dnieper, beyond Reut. They took Floresti, Tiraspol, Orhei. We approached the capital of Moldova, the city of Chisinau.

Here two of our fronts were attacking at once - the 2nd Ukrainian and 3rd Ukrainian. Near Chisinau, Soviet troops were supposed to surround a large fascist group. Carry out the front directions of the Headquarters. The 2nd Ukrainian Front advances north and west of Chisinau. To the east and south is the 3rd Ukrainian Front. Generals Malinovsky and Tolbukhin stood at the head of the fronts.

Fyodor Ivanovich, - General Malinovsky calls General Tolbukhin, - how is the offensive developing?

“Everything is going according to plan, Rodion Yakovlevich,” General Tolbukhin answers General Malinovsky.

The troops are marching forward. They bypass the enemy. The pincers begin to squeeze.

Rodion Yakovlevich, - General Tolbukhin calls General Malinovsky, - how is the environment developing?

The encirclement is proceeding normally, Fyodor Ivanovich,” General Malinovsky answers General Tolbukhin and clarifies: “Exactly according to plan, on time.”

And then the giant pincers closed in. There were eighteen fascist divisions in a huge bag near Chisinau. Our troops began to defeat the fascists who were caught in the bag.

The Soviet soldiers are happy:

The beast will be caught again with a trap.

There was talk: the fascist is no longer scary, even take it with your bare hands.

However, soldier Igoshin had a different opinion:

A fascist is a fascist. A serpentine character is a serpentine character. A wolf is a wolf in a trap.

The soldiers laugh:

So what time was it!

Today the price for a fascist is different.

A fascist is a fascist, - Igoshin again about his.

That's a bad character!

It’s getting more and more difficult for the fascists in the bag. They began to surrender. They also surrendered in the sector of the 68th Guards Rifle Division. Igoshin served in one of its battalions.

A group of fascists came out of the forest. Everything is as it should be: hands up, a white flag thrown over the group.

It’s clear - they’re going to give up.

The soldiers perked up and shouted to the fascists:

Please, please! It is high time!

The soldiers turned to Igoshin:

Well, why is your fascist scary?

Soldiers are crowding around, looking at the fascists coming to surrender. There are newcomers to the battalion. This is the first time that the Nazis have been seen so close. And they, newcomers, are also not at all afraid of the Nazis - after all, they are going to surrender.

The Nazis are getting closer, closer. Very close. And suddenly a burst of machine gun fire rang out. The Nazis started shooting.

A lot of our people would have died. Yes, thanks to Igoshin. He kept his weapon ready. Immediately the response opened fire. Then others helped.

The firing on the field died down. The soldiers approached Igoshin:

Thank you brother. And the fascist, look, actually has a snake-like sting.

The Chisinau “cauldron” caused a lot of trouble for our soldiers. The fascists rushed about. They rushed in different directions. They resorted to deception and meanness. They tried to leave. But in vain. The soldiers squeezed them with their heroic hand. Pinched. Squeezed. The snake's sting was pulled out.

Mityaev A.V. A bag of oatmeal

That autumn there were long, cold rains. The ground was saturated with water, the roads were muddy. On the country roads, stuck up to their axles in mud, stood military trucks. The supply of food became very bad. In the soldier's kitchen, the cook cooked only soup from crackers every day: he poured cracker crumbs into hot water and seasoned with salt.
On such and such hungry days, soldier Lukashuk found a bag of oatmeal. He wasn't looking for anything, he just leaned his shoulder against the wall of the trench. A block of damp sand collapsed, and everyone saw the edge of a green duffel bag in the hole.
What a find! the soldiers rejoiced. There will be a feast on the mountain of Kashu sva-rim!
One ran with a bucket for water, others began to look for firewood, and still others had already prepared spoons.
But when they managed to fan the fire and it was already hitting the bottom of the bucket, an unfamiliar soldier jumped into the trench. He was thin and red-haired. The eyebrows above the blue eyes are also red. The overcoat is worn out and short. There are windings and trampled shoes on my feet.
-Hey, bro! - he shouted in a hoarse, cold voice. - Give me the bag here! Don't put it down, don't take it.
He simply stunned everyone with his appearance, and they gave him the bag right away.
And how could you not give it away? According to front-line law, it was necessary to give it up. Soldiers hid duffel bags in trenches when they went on the attack. To make it easier. Of course, there were bags left without an owner: either it was impossible to return for them (this is if the attack was successful and it was necessary to drive out the Nazis), or the soldier died. But since the owner has arrived, the conversation will be short.
The soldiers watched silently as the red-haired man carried away the precious bag on his shoulder. Only Lukashuk could not stand it and quipped:
-He’s so skinny! They gave him extra rations. Let him eat. If it doesn't burst, it might get fatter.
It's getting cold. Snow. The earth froze and became hard. Delivery has improved. The cook was cooking cabbage soup with meat and pea soup with ham in the kitchen on wheels. Everyone forgot about the red soldier and his porridge.

A big offensive was being prepared.
Long lines of infantry battalions walked along hidden forest roads and along ravines. At night, tractors dragged guns to the front line, and tanks moved.
Lukashuk and his comrades were also preparing for the attack. It was still dark when the cannons opened fire. The planes began to hum in the sky.
They threw bombs at fascist dugouts and fired machine guns at enemy trenches.


The planes took off. Then the tanks began to rumble. The infantrymen rushed after them to attack. Lukashuk and his comrades also ran and fired from a machine gun. He threw a grenade into a German trench, wanted to throw more, but didn’t have time: the bullet hit him in the chest. And he fell. Lukashuk lay in the snow and did not feel that the snow was cold. Some time passed and he stopped hearing the roar of battle. Then he stopped seeing the light, it seemed to him that a dark, quiet night had come.
When Lukashuk regained consciousness, he saw an orderly. The orderly bandaged the wound and put Lukashuk in a small plywood sled. The sled slid and swayed in the snow. This quiet swaying made Lukashuk feel dizzy. But he didn’t want his head to spin, he wanted to remember where he saw this orderly, red-haired and thin, in a worn out overcoat.
-Hold on, brother! Don’t live in timidity!.. he heard the orderly’s words.
It seemed to Lukashuk that he had known this voice for a long time. But where and when I heard it before, I could no longer remember.
Lukashuk regained consciousness when he was transferred from the boat onto a stretcher to be taken to a large tent under the pine trees: here, in the forest, a military doctor was pulling out bullets and shrapnel from the wounded.
Lying on a stretcher, Lukashuk saw a sled-boat on which he was being transported to the hospital. Three dogs were tied to the sled with straps. They were lying in the snow. Icicles froze on the fur. The muzzles were covered with frost, the dogs' eyes were half-closed.
The orderly approached the dogs. In his hands he had a helmet full of oatmeal. Steam was pouring out of her. The orderly stuck his helmet into the snow to tap the dogs because it was dangerously hot. The orderly was thin and red-haired. And then Lukashuk remembered where he had seen him. It was he who then jumped into the trench and took a bag of oatmeal from them.
Lukashuk smiled at the orderly with just his lips and, coughing and choking, said:
-And you, redhead, haven’t gained weight. One of them ate a bag of oatmeal, but he was still thin.
The orderly also smiled and, stroking the nearest dog, answered:
-They ate the oatmeal. But they got you there on time. And I recognized you immediately. As soon as I saw it in the snow, I recognized it.
And he added with conviction: You will live! Don't be timid!

"The Tankman's Tale" Alexander Tvardovsky




What’s his name, I forgot to ask him.

About ten or twelve years old. Bedovy,
Of those who are the leaders of children,
From those in the front-line towns
They greet us like dear guests.

The car is surrounded in parking lots,
Carrying water to them in buckets is not difficult,
Bring soap and towel to the tank
And unripe plums are put in...

There was a battle going on outside. The enemy fire was terrible,
We made our way forward to the square.
And he nails - you can’t look out of the towers, -
And the devil will understand where he’s hitting from.

Here, guess which house is behind
He settled down - there were so many holes,
And suddenly a boy ran up to the car:
- Comrade commander, comrade commander!

I know where their gun is. I scouted...
I crawled up, they were over there in the garden...
- But where, where?.. - Let me go
On the tank with you. I'll give it straight away.

Well, no fight awaits. - Get in here, buddy! -
And so the four of us roll to the place.
The boy is standing - mines, bullets are whistling,
And only the shirt has a bubble.

We've arrived. - Here. - And from a turn
We go to the rear and give full throttle.
And this gun, along with the crew,
We sank into loose, greasy black soil.

I wiped off the sweat. Smothered by fumes and soot:
There was a big fire going from house to house.
And I remember I said: “Thank you, lad!” -
And he shook hands like a comrade...

It was a difficult fight. Everything now is as if from sleep,
And I just can’t forgive myself:
From thousands of faces I would recognize the boy,
But what’s his name, I forgot to ask him.