The name of the fire is beating in the cramped stove. A is written in the dugout

IN ZEMLYANKA

Words by Alexey Surkov
Music by Konstantin Listov

Beats in tight fire in the stove,
There is resin on the logs, like a tear.
And the accordion sings to me in the dugout
About your smile and eyes.

The bushes whispered to me about you
In snow-white fields near Moscow.
I want you to hear
How my living voice yearns.

You're far, far away now
There is snow and snow between us...
It's not easy for me to reach you,
And there are four steps to death.

Sing, harmonica, in spite of the blizzard,
Call lost happiness.

From my unquenchable love.

I feel warm in a cold dugout
From my unquenchable love.

Words - November 1941
music - February 1942

We cannot forget these roads. Songwriter. Comp. A. P. Pavlinov, T. P. Orlova. SPb., “Composer - St. Petersburg”, 2005.

The song is also known under the title "Dugout" and by the first line - "Beating in cramped stove fire..." This is one of the most popular and most humane songs of the Great Patriotic War (and in general, one of the best songs created in Soviet era). Moreover, on the other side of the trenches, the soldiers also preferred not patriotic anthems, but the “anti-war” song “Lili Marlene” - no matter how much they pumped up the people with patriotism, they still sang about the usual: about love, about home, about the end of the war. As a result, they tried to ban performance of both “Dugout” in the USSR and “Lili Marlene” in Germany (“Dugout” - for the phrase "And there are four steps to death"). But the fighters continued to sing them. Part of the repertoire of Lydia Ruslanova.

The poem was written by Alexei Surkov in the fall of 1941 at the front as a letter to his wife, Sophia Krevs, without a title. Surkov did not count on publication. However, in 1942, Konstantin Listov, the author of “The Song of the Cart,” decided to set the text to music.

There are front-line folk adaptations of the song - see “I heard the song with longing...”, “The fire is beating in a cramped stove...” (climbing), etc.

Alexey Surkov (1899-1983)

Memoirs of Alexey Surkov:

HOW THE SONG WAS COMPOSED

Enough for me long life In literature, I had the great fortune of writing several poems, which were set to music and became popular songs, losing the name of the author. Such songs include “Chapaevskaya”, “Konarmeyskaya”, “Those are not clouds, thunderclouds”, “Early, early”, “Lilac is blooming”, “Song of the brave”, “Fire is beating in a cramped stove...” and some other.

I'll tell you the story of a song that was born at the end of November 1941 after one very difficult time for me. front day near Istra. This song is “The fire is beating in a small stove...”. If I'm not mistaken, it was the first lyrical song born from the flames of the Great Patriotic War, accepted both by the heart of the soldier and the heart of those who were waiting for him from the war.

And it was like this. On November 27, we, correspondents of the Western Front newspaper "Krasnoarmeyskaya Pravda", and a group of workers from the Political Directorate of the Western Front arrived at the 9th Guards Rifle Division to congratulate its soldiers and commanders on the Guards rank they had just been awarded, and to write about the military deeds of the heroes. In the afternoon, having passed the division command post, we drove a truck to the command post of the 258th (22nd Guards) Rifle Regiment of this division, which was located in the village of Kashino. This was just at the moment when German tanks, passing through a ravine near the village of Darny, cut off the regiment’s command post from the battalions.

It was getting dark quickly. Two of our tanks, throwing up snow dust, went towards the forest. The soldiers and commanders who remained in the village huddled in a small dugout, equipped somewhere in the outskirts of the command post by the regiment commander, Lieutenant Colonel M.A. Sukhanov. There was no room left for me, the photojournalist, and someone else who arrived in the dugout, and we decided to take cover from mortar and machine gun fire on the steps leading to the dugout.

The Germans were already in the village. Having settled in two or three surviving houses, they fired at us continuously.

Well, are we just going to sit in the dugout? - said the chief of staff of the regiment, Captain I.K. Velichkin. After talking about something with the regiment commander, he turned to everyone who was in the dugout: “Come on, whoever has “pocket artillery”, come on!

Having collected a dozen and a half hand grenades, including taking away two of my treasured lemons, which I kept just in case, the captain, tightening the belt on his padded jacket, left the dugout.

Cover up! - he said briefly.

We immediately opened fire on the Nazis. Velichkin crawled. Grenades. An explosion, another explosion, and the house became quiet. Then the brave captain crawled to another house, then to a third. Everything repeated itself, as if according to a pre-drawn scenario. The enemy fire thinned out, but the Germans did not let up. When Velichkin returned to the dugout, it was almost dark. The regiment commander was already leaving: the command post was changing its location.

We all began to retreat to the river in an organized manner. We crossed the ice under mortar fire. The Nazis did not abandon us with their “mercy” even when we were already on the opposite bank. From the explosions of the mines, the frozen earth scattered in all directions, hitting their helmets painfully.

When we entered a new village, it seems Ulyanovo, we stopped. The worst thing happened here. The head of the engineering service suddenly says to Sukhanov:

Comrade lieutenant colonel, but we are with you in our minefield passed!

And then I saw that Sukhanov, a man who usually did not lose his presence of mind for a second, turned as pale as snow. He knew that if anyone had stepped on the mine's tendon during this retreat, none of us would have survived.

Then, when we got a little accustomed to the new place, the chief of staff of the regiment, Captain Velichkin, the one who threw grenades at the enemy machine gunners, sat down to eat soup. I ate two spoons and, lo and behold, I dropped the spoon and fell asleep. The man did not sleep for four days. And when it rang out phone call from the division headquarters - by that time communication had been restored - we could not wake up the captain, no matter how hard we tried.

People endured inhuman stress during the war! And just because they were like that, nothing could intimidate them.

Impressed by what I experienced that day near Istra, I wrote a letter to my wife, who then lived on the Kama. It contained sixteen “homemade” poetic lines that I had no intention of publishing, much less handing over to anyone to write music...

My poem “The fire is beating in a cramped stove” would have remained part of the letter if in February 1942 the composer Konstantin Listov had not arrived in Moscow from evacuation, came to our front-line editorial office and asked for “something for which he can write a song." And then, fortunately, I remembered the poems I had written home, found them in a notebook and, having copied them outright, gave them to Lisztov, being absolutely sure that although I had cleared my conscience, no song would come out of this lyrical poem. Listov ran his eyes over the lines, mumbled something vague and left. He left and everything was forgotten. But a week later the composer appeared again at our editorial office, asked photojournalist Mikhail Savin for a guitar and sang his new song, calling it "In the Dugout".

Everyone, free from room work, listened to the song with bated breath. Everyone thought the song worked. Listov left. And in the evening, after dinner, Misha Savin asked me for the text and, accompanying him on the guitar, performed the song. And it immediately became clear that the song would “go” if the melody was remembered from the first performance.

The song really went. On all fronts - from Sevastopol to Leningrad and Polyarny. It seemed to some guardians of front-line morality that the lines: “...it’s not easy for me to reach you, and there are four steps to death - decadent, disarming. They asked and even demanded that the death line be crossed out or moved further from the trench. But I was sorry change the words - they very accurately conveyed what was experienced and felt there, in battle, and it was already too late to spoil the song, it “went.” And, as you know, “you can’t erase a word from a song.”

The warring people found out that they were playing tricks with the song. In my chaotic army archive there is a letter signed by six tank guardsmen. Having said kind word Addressing the song and its authors, the tank crews write that they heard that someone didn’t like the line “there are four steps to death.”

The guards expressed the following caustic wish: “Write for these people that there are four thousand English miles to death, but leave us as it is - we know how many steps there are to death.”

The poetess Olga Bertgolts told me such a case during the war. She arrived in Leningrad on the cruiser "Kirov". The cruiser's officers gathered in the wardroom and listened to the radio broadcast. When the song “In the Dugout” with an “improved” version of the lyrics was performed on the radio, cries of angry protest were heard, and people, turning off the loudspeakers, demonstratively sang the song three times in its original text.

Here's a short story about how the song "In the Dugout" came together.

From the collection "Istra, 1941". M. "Moscow Worker", 1975

Letter from Alexey Surkov to his wife with text future song

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SONG "IN THE DUGOUT". TEXT

About your smile and eyes.

The bushes whispered to me about you

I want you to hear

You're far, far away now
There is snow and snow between us...
It's not easy for me to reach you,
And there are four steps to death.

Sing, harmonica, in spite of the blizzard,
Call lost happiness!
I feel warm in a cold dugout
From my unquenchable love.

The last two lines are repeated twice

SONG "IN THE DUGOUT". AUTHORS

Soviet composer Konstantin Yakovlevich Listov (1900-1983)

KONSTANTIN LISTOV

Konstantin Yakovlevich Listov was born on October 2 (September 19, old style) 1900 in Odessa into a family of circus performers. In the circus, the future composer acquired his first musical skills, learning to play the mandolin and performing in the circus arena. In 1917, Listov graduated from Tsaritsino School of Music in piano class with A. Raniec, and in 1922 - the Saratov Conservatory in composition classes with L. Rudolf and piano with I. Rosenberg. From 1919 to 1923, the composer worked as a pianist, and later as a conductor of the Saratov Theater of Miniatures. In 1923, Listov moved to Moscow and began working in the theater at the All-Russian Proletkult. From 1934 to 1938, the composer held the position of conductor of the Review Theater, and from 1938 to 1940 - of the Theater of Classical Buffoonery under the direction of V. Bebutov. During the war years (1941-1945), Konstantin Yakovlevich worked as a music consultant for the Political Directorate of the Navy. Konstantin Listov has written two operas, eleven operettas, music for performances, orchestral and instrumental works, but the main sphere of his work is song. Among the most popular songs the composer can be called “Song about the Cart” (lyrics by M. Ruderman, 1937), “In Chair Park” (lyrics by P. Arsky, 1939), “If you love, find it” (lyrics by L. Oshanin, 1940), “In the dugout” (words by A. Surkov, 1942), “Sevastopol Waltz” (words by G. Rublev, 1955). During the war, Listov was awarded the Order of the Red Star and medals, and in 1973 he was awarded the title People's Artist RSFSR. Konstantin Yakovlevich Listov died on September 6, 1983. He was buried in Moscow at the Kuntsevo cemetery.

Soviet poet Alexey Alexandrovich Surkov (1899-1983)

ALEXEY SURKOV

Alexey Alexandrovich Surkov was born on October 13 (October 1, old style) 1899 in the village of Serednevo, Rybinsk district, Yaroslavl province, into a peasant family. After studying for some time at the Serednevskaya school, he went to work in St. Petersburg. From the age of 12 he worked as an apprentice in a furniture store, in carpentry workshops, in a printing house, in an office and as a weigher in the Petrograd commercial port. In 1918 he volunteered for the Red Army. In the same year, his first poems were published in the Petrograd Krasnaya Gazeta. After Civil War returned to native village and began working as an employee of a reading hut in the neighboring village of Volkovo (1922-1924). From 1924 to 1926, Surkov worked as the first secretary of the Rybinsk Komsomol organization, from 1926 to 1928 - editor-in-chief of the provincial newspaper "Northern Komsomolets". After I All-Union Congress proletarian writers, of which the poet was elected as a delegate, Surkov remained in Moscow, studied at the Faculty of Literature at the Institute of Red Professorships (1931-1934), taught at the Editorial and Publishing Institute and the Literary Institute of the Union of Writers of the USSR (1934-1939), and was deputy editor of the Literary studies". During the Great Patriotic War, Surkov worked as a war correspondent for the front-line newspapers “Krasnoarmeyskaya Pravda”, “Krasnaya Zvezda” and “Battle Onslaught”. In the post-war period, the poet worked as the executive editor of the magazine "Ogonyok" (1945-1953), rector Literary Institute them. A. M. Gorky (1950s), editor-in-chief of the Brief literary encyclopedia"(since 1962). Over the years creative activity Alexey Surkov released a dozen and a half poetry collections, however, he gained greatest fame as a songwriter. Among the songs based on his poems one can name such songs as “Chapaevskaya”, “Those are not clouds, thunderclouds”, “Early, early”, “In the vastness of the wonderful Motherland”, “The fire is beating in a cramped stove...” (“In the dugout”) , “Cavalry”, “Song of the Brave”, “March of the Defenders of Moscow”, etc. The poet has the title of Hero of Socialist Labor (1969) and laureate of two Stalin Prizes(1946 and 1951). Alexey Alexandrovich Surkov died on June 14, 1983. He was buried in Moscow at the Novodevichy cemetery.

SONG "IN THE DUGOUT". HISTORY OF CREATION

Alexey Surkov and his letter, which will become the song “In the Dugout”

This song was immediately, unconditionally accepted - both by the heart of the soldier and by the hearts of those who were waiting for him. But the poem from which it was born appeared, in general, by accident, and was not even intended for publication. It’s just that the poet Alexei Surkov wrote sixteen “homely” lines to his wife from the front. I wrote it in '41, at the end of November, near Istra, after a very difficult day when I had to fight my way out of encirclement with the headquarters of one of the guards regiments.

So these verses would have remained part of the letter if in February 1942 the composer Konstantin Listov had not come to the front-line editorial office and asked for “something to write a song on.” “Something” was missing. And then Surkov, fortunately, remembered the poems sent home, found them in a notebook and, having copied them completely, gave them to Listov, being quite confident that, although he had cleared his comradely conscience, the songs from this absolutely lyric poem will not work. Listov ran his eyes over the lines, mumbled something vague under his breath and left.

A week later he appeared at the editorial office again, asked photographer Misha Savin for a guitar and sang:

The fire is beating in the small stove,
There is resin on the logs, like a tear.
And the accordion sings to me in the dugout
About your smile and eyes.

Everyone who was free from work on releasing the issue listened with bated breath. And when Listov left, Savin asked Surkov for the text and, accompanying himself on the guitar, sang a new song. And it immediately became obvious that the song would “go” - after all, the “ordinary consumer of music” remembered the melody from the very first performance.

The song really went. On all fronts - from Sevastopol to Leningrad and Polyarny. True, some guardians of front-line morality thought that the lines: “It’s not easy for me to get to you, but there are four steps to death” - decadent, “disarming.” They asked and even demanded that death be crossed out or moved further away from the trench. But it was too late to spoil the song, it “went”... They found out at the front that they were “playing tricks” with it, and one day Surkov received a letter from six tank guardsmen. The tankers wrote: “We heard that someone doesn’t like the line “four steps to death.” Write for these people that death is four thousand English miles, and leave us as it is, we know how many steps it is to death.”

And there was another incident that Olga Berggolts recalls. One day she came to the cruiser Kirov. In the wardroom, the officers were listening to a radio broadcast, and suddenly “Dugout” sounded with an “improved” version of the text. There were shouts of protest, and, turning off the loudspeaker, people demonstratively sang the song three times as they had sung it before.

Of course, it was not by chance that Surkov’s purely personal lines became the most popular war song, one of the highest lyrical successes of all front-line poetry. Already from the first days of the Great Patriotic poet I felt: a soldier’s heart is looking not only for a slogan and appeal, but also for a gentle, quiet word in order to unload from the overload of all the terrible things that cruel reality has brought down on it. It is no coincidence that next to the forged lines: “ There's a war going on people’s, holy war” - in the soldier’s heart there lived, in general, a not very skillful song about a blue handkerchief. And the poet responded to this call of the heart. But there is another secret of the exceptional spiritual affection of millions of fighters for such poems as Simonov’s “Wait for Me”, for such songs as Surkov’s “Dugout”. This secret is in the absolute trust of the lyrical confession, which attracted millions of hearts who completely accepted the lines of the song as an expression of their own feelings - the most hidden and the most sacred:

The bushes whispered to me about you
In snow-white fields near Moscow.
I want you to hear
How my living voice yearns.

People perceived not only the meaning of the poem, but also all the heat of the heart, the pulsation of blood, excitement, hope, love put into it...

That is why if former front-line soldiers sing about the dugout, then even today they do not spare their hearts for this song and are not ashamed of tears.

Composition

The song “Fire is beating in a small stove” can be called, perhaps, one of the most famous songs Great Patriotic War. It has long been popular, and few people know that both the words and the music of this work are purely original: the words belong to the poet and front-line correspondent Alexander Surkov, and the music belongs to the composer Konstantin Listov.

Surkov created his poem, which, by the way, gave the title “In the Dugout,” in November 1941, while on Western Front. At the beginning of the work there is a dedication to a specific person - the poet’s beloved Sophia Krevo. A little later, in February 1942, Surkov handed over the poem to the composer Listov, who very quickly set this work to music. The result was a song that gained extraordinary popularity in the Red Army:

About your smile and eyes.

The bushes whispered to me about you

I want you to hear

You're far, far away now

There is snow and snow between us...

It's not easy for me to reach you,

And there are four steps to death.

Sing, harmonica, in spite of the blizzard,

Call lost happiness.

From my unquenchable love.

I feel warm in a cold dugout

From my unquenchable love.

What is the secret of this seemingly simple song? In my opinion, her most important virtue is sincerity. Reading this work even now, 65 years after the Great Patriotic War, you experience involuntary excitement and trepidation. And what can we say about the soldiers of that time, each of whom experienced something similar to what the lyrical hero sings about?

This song touches the most important strings in the soul of any person. It is about the eternal - about life and death, about fear and about strength, about love, which is the only one capable of inspiring, protecting, saving.

The first stanza is introductory. She outlines the “scene of action.” We understand that the hero is sitting in a dugout after the battle, surrounded by his comrades. And here, in a rare moment of rest, he thinks about the most important thing - about his beloved, he misses her unbearably:

The fire is beating in the small stove,

There is resin on the logs, like a tear.

And the accordion sings to me in the dugout

About your smile and eyes.

The fire beats in the oven - a symbol of life, light, warmth, love. But the fire barely warms the hero - his rest is “seasoned” with sadness and bitterness. The comparison “On the logs there is resin like a tear” tells us this. The hero is immersed in memories of his beloved: “And the accordion sings to me in the dugout about your smile and eyes.”

He always thinks about her - the power of the hero’s love is so great:

The bushes whispered to me about you

In snow-white fields near Moscow.

I want you to hear

In the most difficult and terrible moments of the war lyrical hero Only the memories of the woman I loved saved me: “The bushes whispered to me about you in the snow-white fields near Moscow.” He misses her unbearably: for warmth, affection, joy - for peaceful life.

You're far, far away now

There is snow and snow between us...

It's not easy for me to reach you,

And there are four steps to death.

Thus, the hero’s beloved becomes the personification of all that is alive and beautiful - what every person so needs. And in the poem she is contrasted with evil, destruction, death: “It’s not easy for me to get to you, And to death there are four steps.”

This metaphorical image- “four steps to death” - became a textbook, “identifying” passage of this work. This probably happened because the image was close to everyone at that time, especially to those who were at the front. He expressed his deepest fears - being killed, not living to see victory, never again experiencing the happiness of a peaceful life.

But the hero is not going to give up. In spite of everything, he is sure that he will fight to the last - in spite of his enemies, fear, melancholy:

Sing, harmonica, in spite of the blizzard,

Call lost happiness.

I feel warm in a cold dugout

From my unquenchable love.

The image of a blizzard symbolizes all this. It seems to the soldier that his happiness is “lost” somewhere, but this is not for long. After all, he has the most important thing - “unquenchable love”, which warms him, supports him, gives him strength to fight and win.

I feel warm in a cold dugout

From my unquenchable love.

He strives to focus on these words because they are the main ones. And here they acquire universal humanity, philosophical meaning: love is what always saves a person, supports him in the most difficult situation. Love for a woman, for parents, for one’s homeland. This is the strongest creative force in which lies the meaning of life.

I think people who went through the Great Patriotic War can believe in this. No matter what, we need to keep love in our hearts, and for this, as they say in the holy books, we will be rewarded.

On October 13, 1899, front-line poet Alexei Surkov was born. Many of his poems became popular songs.

For example, the song “In the Dugout,” which begins with the words “The fire is beating in the cramped stove,” was born from a letter that the poet wrote from the front to his wife at the end of November 1941. These were sixteen, as they say, “homemade” poetic lines that Surkov did not intend to publish. They would have remained part of the letter if in February 1942 the composer Konstantin Listov had not come to the front-line editorial office and asked to give him “something to write a song on.” And Surkov remembered his letter. This is how the song “In the Dugout” was born, which very quickly spread on all fronts - from Sevastopol to Leningrad.

True, some guardians of front-line morality thought that the lines “...it’s not easy for me to get to you, but there are four steps to death” - decadent, disarming. They asked and even demanded that death be crossed out or moved further from the trench. But Surkov was sorry to change the words - they very accurately conveyed what was experienced and felt in battle, and it was too late to spoil the song, the soldiers were already singing it. And, as you know, “you can’t erase a word from a song.”

The warring people found out that something was being done with the song. Surkov’s army archive contains a letter signed by six tank guardsmen. Having said a kind word about the song and its authors, the tankers wrote that they heard that someone did not like the line “there are four steps to death.” The guards expressed a caustic wish: “Write for these people that there are four thousand English miles to death, but leave us as it is - we know how many steps there are to death”...

“The fire is beating in a cramped stove...” Alexey Surkov

Sofye Krevo

The fire is beating in the small stove,
There is resin on the logs, like a tear,
And the accordion sings to me in the dugout
About your smile and eyes.

The bushes whispered to me about you
In snow-white fields near Moscow.
I want you to hear
How my living voice yearns.

You are far, far away now.
Between us there is snow and snow.
It's not easy for me to reach you,
And there are four steps to death.

Sing, harmonica, in spite of the blizzard,
Call lost happiness.
I feel warm in a cold dugout
From my unquenchable love.

Analysis of Surkov’s poem “Fire is beating in a cramped stove...”

Alexey Surkov’s poem “The fire beats in a cramped stove...” was written at the beginning of the Great Patriotic War- November 27, 1941 in the Soviet village of Kashino. The poem was set to music and it became crazy popular song war years called “In the Dugout”. According to the author, the song was born after one of hard days near the Istra River. Impressed by everything he had experienced, Alexey Alexandrovich wrote a letter to his family, who were evacuated in the city of Chistopol, located on the territory of modern Tatarstan.

Touching sixteen lines of a poem, very personal and tender, were born under the pen. The poet did not intend to publish them and, moreover, did not see them as a future song. But fate decreed otherwise: three months later, already in the Moscow editorial office, composer Konstantin Listov and poet Alexei Surkov met. Listov urgently asked to give him some material for a song. Surkov, being sure that these lines would not make a front-line song, gave him a piece of paper with a written poem. A week later, Konstantin returned and, taking a guitar, performed a song called “Dugout.” The sudden silence in the room made it clear that the song was successful.

Since then, the song has rapidly spread across the fronts: Sevastopol, Polyarny, Leningrad... The Soviet “guardians of morality” did not like it - critics considered it unpatriotic, decadent. But the people fell in love with these simple lines that everyone could understand.

The main theme of any work lyric author- Love. Surikov was no exception. The war, with its unimaginable cruelty, injustice and senselessness, seemed to leave no room for such a fragile feeling as love. But it was she who revived these lines, filled them with meaning, the warmth of close souls and became dear to millions of Soviet soldiers.

The lines, written in the midst of a brutal war, reek of quiet sadness from separation from a beloved family. No matter how patriotic the fighters are before the fight, after it, when silence sets in and everyone is left alone with their personal pain, the only thing that saves is family. Or rather, memories of her. About parents, sisters, brothers, wives and children. No matter how harsh the conditions the Russian soldier was in, he always hoped that his family was alive, even if they were far away, but they were safe. And each of them understood that tomorrow’s battle could be the last.

At the beginning of the poem, an ascetic image of a front-line dugout appears. Here, surrounded by his comrades in arms, the author thinks about what is most important to him - about his beloved. Fire is a symbol of warmth, home, life. But even it warms the soldier very poorly. A rare vacation is sprinkled with sadness: “There is resin on the logs, like a tear.”

Wherever the hero of the poem is, his thoughts are always about his beloved, his heart is in a past, peaceful life, where there is no place for cold, hunger and death.

The image of the wife is transferred to the personification of all life, joy, spring and warmth, everything that a simple person so greedily needs soviet soldier. As a contrast, the other side of life is clearly depicted - evil, war and grief.

The metaphorical device “And there are four steps to death” has become identification mark this work. The phrase rushed through the battlefields, and it was painfully familiar and close to every fighter... In these few words, the author was able to lay down the entire enormous fear of death, when there would never again be a peaceful sky overhead, or blossoming apple trees, or children’s laughter.

The last quatrain expresses confidence in victory and the determination to fight to the end. The blizzard personifies lost happiness, hope for a calm life. But when there is the most important thing - the love of loved ones, no troubles are scary, they are all temporary. Only love can “lead” a soldier out of battle unharmed, save him from cold and hunger, and give him strength to face his fears.