PAIN OF WAR CHILDHOOD
Memories ... Sometimes very difficult, but you can’ t get rid of them. They come very often, especially when you are not waiting for them. And memory increasingly takes me to the far war years of my childhood. We, children of the war , wholly learned its horrors, hardships, hunger and cold. And although 75 years have passed, as it is over, I still can’t forget how I was haunted by fear for my life and fate of relatives.
I was born in the village of Korelichi in a large family of Tikhanovich. When the war began, father went to the front, leaving mother with five children. Then we didn’t know yet, that sufferings for our family had just begun…
Our soldiers retreated to the town of Mir. They mined all escape routes – to the river Servech. The Germans while following them stumbled upon the mines. The fascists figured out how to avoid losses. Together with the policemen they brought rakes from the villages, harnessed the horses into them. Boys aged from 12 to 15 were driven from our village, my elder brother who was 13 was among them. The children were put on the rakes and they let the horses go along the mine field. The fascists put up the guard and allowed the relatives to watch this terrible action. The children exploded and died in front of distraught parents. My brother was blown away by the blast. The frightened horse rushed towards the river pushing my brother with it.
When all the field was cleared the fascists allowed relatives to take the remains of the children. Mother rushed to brother. He was lying unconscious, in blood, the face was badly hurt. But he was alive, and this was more important. Picking up a stained body, mother carried him home. Fortunately, she met two doctors on the way. A German doctor pitied her and offered his help. He asked not to tell anybody as he was afraid for the life of his family. The doctor did the operation at night in the basement of the hospital. Thanks to this operation my brother survived.
Hardly had our family recovered from experienced, when disaster struck the house again. A local policeman told the Germans, that my uncle and his sons had gone to partisans and we were having contacts with them. Mother was taken to prison, she was severely interrogated and beaten. Fortunately she could avoid death and return home.
The respite was temporary. We had to go to the forest. We took all the necessary things and a cow. On the way we were attacked by a German airplane, but everybody could reach the forest. We didn’t build dugouts , as we were lack in tools and people. My brothers dug a hole under the roots of a tree twisted from the ground. The children slept in it, and the adults - near them on the ground. It was silence in the afternoon – we were afraid of Germans who often combed the forest.
As they say, the only trouble doesn’t go. Our cow was killed by a shell. We had nothing to eat, my younger sister starved to death.
When it was getting cold, we had to look for a new shelter. An old woman sheltered us in one of the villages. The Germans happened to come there. Then we hid in the basement. So we lived up to the liberation of Korelichi. But we had nowhere to go, the house was destroyed. We got temporary housing together with refugees. It was very difficult: constant hunger, people fell ill with typhoid and tuberculosis.
The 1946th brought a great joy – father came home. That year I went to school, but had been ill for a year. I remember, we wrote little because there were no pens. There were only two primer books in class. There were no clothes and footwear , in winter we took turns going to school .
After I had finished seven grades, I went to the paramedic-obstetrician school. I was sent to work to Voronovo district. I began my labour way in Yotkishki, served 22 villages. There was no transport, we had to overcome large distances on foot, sometimes at night. I often had to give birth at home. Then I was taken to maternity ward of the hospital in Benyakoni. After it had been closed I worked in Gaityunishki. I devoted 40 years to medicine.
I settled in Benyakoni, met my husband here, two daughters were born . Now I have grown-up grandchildren and great grandchildren. I look at them with great joy. They are happy to live in peaceful time, nobody takes their childhood away, as they took it from me and hundreds thousands of other children.
Maria Isaeva from Benyakoni
Photo taken by Oleg Belsky and from the archive of Maria Isaeva
Translated by Zinaida Tserpitskaya
