Contemporary children's literature about war. War and children in the works of Soviet writers

Books about the Patriotic War of 1812

Patriotic War Two magnificent books from the Labyrinth publishing house are dedicated to the year 1812.

The first - "In a terrible time" - was written back in Soviet time historian Mikhail Grigorievich Bragin. Her modern edition very original: in addition to text and illustrations, the book contains many different interactive elements. The book is well made, filled with information - it is a real work of art. If a student is interested in history, weapons or military affairs, this book will be for him a great gift! But I’m sure adults will also get great pleasure from this book.

Annotation:
In the 1960s, historian M. G. Bragin wrote the book “In a Terrible Time,” and Soviet boys fell ill with 1812. How many armies were created from the most unexpected materials, how many battles were fought! Almost half a century later, this book returns to the reader, and again on its pages you can hear the roar of cannons, sparkling cuirasses and billowing gunpowder smoke. The Patriotic War comes to life here in the smallest detail: you can read the correspondence of generals, understand battle patterns, see what a Russian soldier wore in his backpack, look into the regulations of 1811, examine uniforms and weapons, learn how to build fortifications, find out how a cannon fires, why an apron for a sapper, was it possible to cure Bagration, what is a okochurnik, what statue of Napoleon could stand in the Kremlin and what killed Great Army. Additional materials: original three-dimensional designs, panoramic pages, flaps, little books, maps, battle diagrams, a guide to the Borodino field, cards with portraits and biographies of great commanders, historical documents.

In the same series, in the same original design, the book “The Battle of Borodino” was published. There are few pages in this publication - only 26. But each of the cardboard pages can be studied for a long time. The price for this book is very, very decent. This is not a mass product, and in my library I, for example, this book I didn't buy it. But I couldn’t ignore her either - she’s very good.

Annotation:
This unique interactive publication was prepared specifically for the 200th anniversary of the Patriotic War of 1812. The book gives rare opportunity not just read about events long ago days gone by, but also to see the course of the Battle of Borodino as closely as possible, to immerse yourself in the history that literally comes to life on the pages of the book. The main narrative is accompanied by additional texts that tell about the heroes of the 1812 campaign and describe interesting details of military life. The illustrations allow you to imagine what the uniform and weapons of that time looked like: historical accuracy is maintained here even in the smallest details. The book was created with the assistance of the largest libraries, museums, and military history clubs in Russia. The publication is intended for a wide range of readers. Additional materials: original three-dimensional structures, movable elements, valves, panoramic and sliding pages, a belt with a module in the form of a clock with movable hands, a poster with portraits and biographies of French and Russian commanders, 10 cards with the uniform of the Russian army, 10 cards with the uniform of the French army , antique board game"Cossacks".

Publishing house “CompassGuide”

Age 12+

Soviet writer Stanislav Olefir was 2 years old when the war began. In their storiesZakh he writes about his childhood in a small village occupied by the Germans and after liberation.This is a book not only about war, cruelty and hunger, but also about amazing people living next to the hero.

Ella Fonyakova, “Bread of That Winter”

Publishing house “Rech”

Age 6+

Ella Fonyakova, like her heroine Lenochka, was 7 years old during the first winter of the siege. In this autobiographical book, the writer describes the life of a family in Leningrad surrounded by the Germans. On behalf of pfirst-grader Lenochka talks about her children's world: joys and pranks, games, friendship. And it’s even more terrible that air raids, hunger and death burst into this quiet world.

Gennady Cherkashin, “Doll”

Publishing house “Rech”

Age 6+

A girl and her mother return home to Leningrad from evacuation. My mother’s parents remained in the besieged city and did not survive. Their apartment is occupied by another family, and all their belongings have been sold.

Once upon a time in a shop window thrift store The girl sees her doll Mashenka, a gift from her deceased grandfather. Every day the girl comes to her doll, reads books to it, and her mother saves money to buy her daughter’s favorite toy back.

There is no description of cruelty and violence in the story; Gennady Cherkashin hardly writes about the terrible realities of that time, so the book may become the first work about war in a child’s life.

Eduard Verkin, “Cloud Regiment”

Publishing house “CompassGuide”

Age 14+

Writer Eduard Verkin was born 30 years after the end of the war, but his novel about the life of teenage partisans took first place in the Kniguru children's book competition.

This modern novel about pioneer heroes, children whom the war found at school. A group of boys become partisans, they fight in forests and swamps, come under fire and face death for the first time.

Peter van Gestel, “Winter when I grew up”

Publishing house “Samokat”

Age 12+

The novel by Dutch writer Peter van Gestel takes place immediately after the war, in 1947. Ten year old boy Thomas appears new friend Pete. Everything about him is unusual: Pete has no parents and he lives with his aunt Yos. Over time, Thomas learns that all of his new friend's relatives died in the camps. Thanks to Pete and his sister Beth, Thomas finds out the terrible truth about the persecution of Jews, yellow stars and concentration camps.

Yuri German, “That's how it was”

Publishing house “Rech”

Age 6+

Another autobiographical work about Leningrad during the war.

The book is written from the perspective of first-grader Misha, who talks about the blockade, famine, bombing, and the heroism of his parents. In the eyes of a child, everything doesn’t look so scary.

Thanks to the simple language and “childish” view of what is happening, the book can be read by preschoolers and elementary school students.

Judith Kerr, “How Hitler Stole the Pink Rabbit”

Publishing house “White Crow”

For middle and older children

Nine-year-old Anna lives ordinary life German schoolgirl, but one day her life changes. Fearing persecution by the Nazis, Anna's family flees their native Berlin, first to Switzerland, then to France and England. The girl leaves her home, her friends and even her beloved pink rabbit. But despite the descriptions of the hardships of life for refugees, the book a happy ending– after all, the girl’s family remained together.

The events that the writer talks about are familiar to her not only from books: Judith Kerr’s family also fled from Germany in the 30s.

John Boyne, "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas"

Publishing house “Phantom Press”

The father of nine-year-old Bruno is transferred to new job, and with him the family moves to Poland. In the new city, the boy is bored and has no one to play with, so he decides to go to the settlement, which he sees from the window, where all the people wear striped pajamas.

Bruno is naive and does not understand that this strange place is the Auschwitz concentration camp, and his father is its commandant. On the other side of the bars he finds a new friend, Jewish boy Shmuel.

Olga Kolpakova, “Wormwood Tree”

Publishing house “CompassGuide”

Age 12+

Little Mariyhe, her sisters, mother and aunt are Russian Germans. When the war starts, all of them peaceful life turns over. The girl's father goes to the front, and Mariykha has to leave her home and go to Siberia with her family. In simple terms the writer talks about the difficult road, hunger, poverty and the hardships of war. And also about friendship and love, and about the wormwood tree with dough toys, which the relatives build for the girl and her sisters on their first Christmas in exile.

The story is based on the stories of the matured Mariikhe.

Elena Ilyina, “The Fourth Height”

Publishing house AST

For middle school age

Everyone knew this book by the writer Elena Ilyina Soviet schoolboy. This is a story about a real-life girl, Gula Koroleva, about her childhood and youth, independence, courage, temper and ability to admit her mistakes. About how the girl tried to escape to Spain, acted in films - and about how she left her newborn child in evacuation, went to the front and died heroically when she was only 20 years old.

MBOU Secondary School No. 39, Smolensk

Teacher Kostyuchenko Lyubov Grigorievna

WAR CHILDHOOD IN THE WORKS OF RUSSIAN WRITERS

Introduction

Every year there are fewer and fewer of those who were directly related to military operations, those who participated in the battles and worked for the benefit of Victory in the rear. But other witnesses of the war are still alive, who during the war years were children, our peers.

Children of war have different destinies, but they are all united common tragedy, irreparable loss beautiful world childhood. Little heroes who matured at the wrong time, wise beyond their years and incredibly persistent, resisted the war. Their patriotism during the Great Patriotic War, labor feats and desperate courage will forever remain in the memory of our people.

Today, many war veterans are those guys who survived years of bombing, hunger and fear. With tears in their eyes, they remember their wartime childhood, and, despite the fact that some moments have already been erased from memory, they remember that period for the rest of their lives and are unlikely to forget. They can tell us about their war as they know and remember it.

While working on this topic, I realized the most important thing is that everything is a thing of the past: the suffering of people, devastation, hunger in the military and post-war years. Our generation has the opportunity to touch the Great Patriotic War, listening to stories not only about combat, but also about labor exploits in the memories of living witnesses of that time. This is what I want to show in my work.

I dedicate my research work to people who have lost their childhood.

Research problem:

The topic of children and war is one of the most underexplored in history. And this is no coincidence: battles, battles and feats of arms have been considered the lot of adult men from time immemorial. Children were meant for something else: to study, play, and also help around the house. War is a terrible evil that has crippled not only the lives of adults, but also deprived the youngest part of the population of our country of childhood.

Purpose of the study: to identify the impact of the events of the Great Patriotic War on the life and everyday life of children.

Research objectives:

Study journalism on this issue.

1. Children and war in classical Russian literature.

The ground was both hard and

blizzard.

There was one problem for all people.

We didn't even have a childhood

separately,

And they were together: childhood and war.

L. P. Shevchenko

67 years ago the last salvos of the Great Patriotic War died down. What a terrible price our people paid for this Victory! From almost every home, from every family, fathers, husbands, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters went to the front and never returned.

This war has maimed thousands and thousands human destinies, not sparing anyone: neither women, nor the elderly, nor children.

War and children... There is probably nothing more unnatural than the combination of these initially hostile concepts. The war deprived children of their childhood, fell upon them with a heavy burden, a colossal shock, traumatizing their fragile souls. Just beginning to live, they were forced to grow up too early and take all the hardships of wartime on their fragile shoulders.

The generation of military boys turned out to be that generation of teenagers who, on the next day of the war, stepped straight from the world of childhood into the abyss of military life, into the long-suffering rear reality, which required from them far from childish maturity and courage. It was this generation of boys and girls, along with adults, who perished under shells and bombs, died of hunger and cold, and gave all their strength for Victory. It defended and won this cruel war!

They carried the memory of their harsh wartime childhood throughout their lives, leaving documentary stories and memories for the younger generation.

In modern children's literature, heartfelt works of art, telling with piercing authenticity about the difficult destinies of wartime children.

Children had to drink a bitter cup during the Great Patriotic War. The war deprived them of their childhood, crippled their destinies, and orphaned many of them.

Many have dedicated their works to the theme of harsh wartime childhood. Russian writers who went through war, through difficult trials. Their exciting stories are included in this collection.

Six-year-old Vanyusha from Mikhail Sholokhov’s story “The Fate of Man,” who lost all his relatives in the war, finds his happiness again, finds a kind and courageous father, who becomes his hope and support.

The hero of Valentin Rasputin's story "French Lessons" is a village boy, living independently in someone else's house, experiencing hunger and need, meets a reliable older friend who helps him in difficult moments life. Having received a lesson in human kindness, participation and understanding, he believes that very soon “a happy time will come for everyone.”

Nikolai Voronov’s story “Pigeon Hunt” introduces us to a gang of Ural boys, avid pigeon keepers. These restless boys decided to give their most valuable asset - pigeons - to the front.

All these works included in the collection “War and Children” are recognized the best works children's military prose.

Far, far from the front, in Siberian village The events of Victor Astafiev’s story “War is thundering somewhere” take place. No shots are fired here, no soldiers are killed, but the cruel echo of war echoes in distant Siberia.

For a seventeen-year-old boy, Vitka Potylitsyn, the war manifested itself in its own way: in learning a profession necessary for the front; in a ration of bread weighing 250 grams; at the funeral that came to his dear aunt Augusta.

Having received an alarming letter from home, he returns to his native village, where he sees with his own eyes the terrible grief that the war brought to the people. But the power of human kindness, participation, responsiveness helps people survive in these hard days. And Vitka Potylitsyn discovers a very simple truth: with people, with family and friends, and grief is half grief, and joy is doubled.

Russian writer William Kozlov belongs to the generation of “boys of the forty-first year,” whose childhood ended on July 22, 1941.

The shocks and experiences suffered during the war years formed the basis of many of the writer’s works.

William Kozlov dedicated his story “Yurka the Goose” to the difficult fate of an eleven-year-old boy who found himself in the terrible circumstances of war.

Yurka Goose for a long time wandered along the roads of war, became homeless, fled from death, shuttled between military echelons, and got into all sorts of troubles. This thin and ragged boy sought to be closer to the war, to unknown dangers.

Fate throws him into a small front-line village, through which military trains endlessly walked to the front. And here, meeting kind and sympathetic people along the way, Yurka goes through a harsh school of growing up, learning to understand and sympathize with other people. The teenager’s bitter soul thaws, “it becomes sunny and joyful all around.”

Petka from Viktor Konetsky’s story “Petka, Jack and the Boys” largely repeated the fate of the writer himself.

This Leningrad boy was evacuated from a terrible cold city to a small Central Asian town. Even here, in the deep rear, the war did not let go of the boy, constantly returning to him with memories of the mine-scarred ice of Lake Ladoga, of the grinding of planes flying overhead, of air raid raids, of incessant hunger and cold.

He, an eleven-year-old boy, did not want to live. “In the mornings, gloomily, with melancholy and even fear, I thought that a second, a third would come after today...” Petka carried this attitude towards life from besieged Leningrad.

The stray dog ​​Jack, who became his friend, helped the boy feel the joy of life again and see the surrounding beauty. true friend and protector.

But the war again cruelly intervened in Petka’s fate. Having learned that the front needs dogs like Jack, who are capable of carrying wounded soldiers out of battle, the boy gives his reliable only friend to the soldiers, “He is more needed there; suddenly he will save the wounded.”

Selfless boys like Petka helped our country survive and win the Great Patriotic War.

Vladislav Krapivin’s story “The Shadow of the Caravel” is the writer’s unforgettable memory of his harsh childhood. Much remains in the writer’s memory: the mercilessness of war winters, when fingers swelled, and cakes made from potato peelings, and the short clang of scissors cutting out small squares of coupons from bread cards, and the tense anticipation of news from his father from the front.

From the same childhood are the boys who grew up during the difficult war years, to whom he dedicated his story. Among them are a seven-year-old boy, Vladik, who resembles the writer himself, and his friend Pavlik, a curly-haired fourth-grader.

It was good for the two of them to sit by the humming stove and dream. In their dreams, the boys were carried away on their white paper boat into an exciting cruise, “where pirate brigs roamed and unprecedented monsters surfaced under the starry sky, near the islands, through the sunny water, sunken ships were visible, hiding secrets and treasures.”

Despite the war, despite all the hardships, hunger and cold, the joy of discovering the world and the joy of true boyish friendship will forever remain in the lives of these little heroes.

“People don’t choose their parents, people don’t choose their childhood. Our childhood was during the war, and we were called the children of war,” Albert Likhanov wrote about his generation, on whose fate the war left a deep imprint. The theme of military childhood sounds exciting in the writer’s works, included in the book “Russian Boys”.

Albert Likhanov introduces us to such a “Russian boy” named Kolka in the stories: “Steep Mountains”, “Music”, “Wooden Horses”, combined into a single trilogy.

Kolka and I met on the first day of the war, when he, a six-year-old boy, could not yet comprehend the full tragedy of the events taking place, and we parted after the Victory, at the end of 1946. Before our eyes, the hero grows from a simple-minded kid into a person capable of making independent and difficult decisions.

The brother and his younger sister found themselves in dire circumstances of the war, when, having lost their bread cards and being left without a means of subsistence, they were simply dying of hunger.

The fate of these little heroes was tragic, but Albert Likhanov leaves us with hope for their happy future.

“Yes, wars end sooner or later. But hunger releases slower than the enemy. And the tears don't dry for a long time. And there are canteens with additional meals. And jackals live there. Small, hungry, innocent children. We remember this. Don’t forget, you new people,” the author implores us at the end of his book.

In the city of Leningrad, an ordinary girl lived in an ordinary large family. The girl's name was Tanya Savicheva. She studied at a simple school, loved her family and friends, loved to read and go to the movies.

The Great Patriotic War began. The Nazis surrounded the city. The terrible days of the siege began.

The war mercilessly crossed out the happy carefree childhood Tani. What did this fragile girl go through during the siege?

A small notebook with blue pencil lines has survived to this day, in which Tanya dispassionately wrote down the mournful dates of the losses of her big family. And here is the last entry made by a courageous girl: “The Savichevs have died. Everyone died. Tanya is the only one left." Forty-one lines written by a schoolgirl contained the tragedy of the besieged city.

Ilya Mixon's story “Once upon a time” was written based on personal diary Tanya Savicheva, preserved personal documents, memories of eyewitnesses.

The tragic story of a Leningrad girl and her family still burns the heart of the modern reader.

The war with its cruel lessons and trials became for the heroes of Radiy Pogodin’s story “Where does the goblin live?” the main thing in their little life.

The oldest among these children was Senka, a boy of seven or eight years old, who over the years German occupation I got used to feeling like a “breadwinner and protector”, because the Germans drove all children over ten years old to Germany. This skinny, big-eyed boy has neither childish carelessness nor a childish smile. The war killed his childhood and changed his fate. But Senka, whose “legs grow straight from his back, and his stomach is adorned with purulent scabs” - the memory of the hot potatoes that he stole from the Germans for hungry children straight from a boiling cauldron, evokes our respect and sympathy.

The Great Patriotic War, without reaching the distant Tatar village, covered everyone who lived in it with its black wing. Every house, every family sent its husbands, fathers, sons to the front, and the women, old people and children remaining in the village replaced them.

Among the selfless home front workers was nine-year-old Dasha Pletneva, the heroine of T. Polikarpova’s book “Leaves of Next Summer.”

To this soulfully to a beautiful girl who perceives the world brightly, figuratively, “loving everyone in the world,” comes understanding adult life, the desire to take on part of the nation's misfortune.

A heightened perception of life helps Dasha Pletneva not to get lost in it harsh world, to overcome all adversity with dignity, to withstand terrible war, bringing faith and hope to people.

The homeless, distorted world of wartime children appears before us in Anatoly Pristavkin’s story “The Golden Cloud Spent the Night.”

Its main characters, eleven-year-old twin brothers Kuzmenysh, lived in an orphanage near Moscow, where “the whole tense life of the children revolved around frozen potatoes, potato peelings and, as the height of desire and dream, a crust of bread in order to subsist, to survive just one extra day of war.” . Day after day, the Kuzmenys learn the hard science of survival and learn to fight for their existence.

Fate throws them into the Caucasus region, far from their native places, where the brothers tragically face Stalin’s policy of exterminating the Chechen people. It is difficult for the Kuzmenysh to understand what was happening around them and what they witnessed. And in the flames of repression of the “Chechen traitors” their souls, their faith and hope for a happy life perish.

Having gone through the worst thing - the death of his twin brother, Kolka, distraught with grief, suddenly begins to understand the events taking place. Addressing the imaginary Chechen who killed his brother Sashka, he says very important words: “You killed Sashka and me, and the soldiers came and they will kill you…. And you will start killing soldiers, and that’s it: both they and you will die. But wouldn’t it have been better for you to live, and for them to live, and for Sasha and I to live too”?

In memory of those boys - who fought, suffered and survived - Anatoly Pristavkin wrote this story, piercingly authentic.

Children of Stalingrad... They had to endure a lot of suffering and grief during the Great Patriotic War. They lived next to the front line for almost six months, experiencing unbearable hunger and cold.

Among the several thousand Stalingrad children was seven-year-old Gena Sokolov, the hero of Vladimir Shmerling’s story “The Children of Ivan Sokolov.” He “lived and did not know what grief was, but it came - in broad daylight.” His fate was dramatic: his father went to the front, his mother died, and his younger sister Olya was lost in the turmoil of the war.

“For 160 days we lived in trenches and dugouts, among those who were awarded a medal"For the defense of Stalingrad." We witnessed the Battle of Stalingrad. Unimaginable suffering befell us.

But the Stalingrad soldiers protected us. They warmed us with care and affection, treated us like family, and we will always remember this...

And let these memories of the past help us better appreciate and cherish the present,” Gennady Sokolov, one of those who survived the Stalingrad tragedy, addresses his readers with these words.

2. Analysis of the works of Russian writers

2.1. Lev Kassil

During the war, L. Kassil wrote essays and stories dedicated to children: the collections “Ordinary Guys”, “Flammable Cargo”, a book about Soviet army, addressed to young children and called “Your Defenders.”

L. Kassil's first stories and essays about the war talked about the participation of children and teenagers in the struggle for victory Soviet people. “Fedya from the Submarine”, “Three Fabbugs”, “Flammable Cargo” turned out to be original sketches for a major story written during the war, “My Dear Boys”

Cover of V. Kataev’s book “Son of the Regiment”

A. Rybakov

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 kind of books about war for children? preschool age Can you recommend reading to preschool teachers?

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, introduce modern children with 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 realize the cruelty and mercilessness of war ordinary people, are horrified by the atrocities of fascism, 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 mandatory 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.

You can start reading books on military topics now younger preschoolers. 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» 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 tragic destinies people, about the courage and heroism shown by the defenders of the Fatherland. And of course best books about war instill in young readers the spirit of patriotism; 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.

The Nazis were unable to take the Brest Fortress by storm. We walked around her left and right. She remained behind enemy lines.

The Nazis are coming. Fights are taking place near Minsk, near Riga, near Lvov, near Lutsk. And there, in the rear of the Nazis, the Brest Fortress is fighting, not giving up.

It's hard for heroes. It’s bad with ammunition, bad with food, and especially bad with water for the defenders of the fortress.

There is water all around - the Bug River, the Mukhovets River, branches, channels. There is water all around, but there is no water in the fortress. Water is under fire. A sip of water here is more valuable than life.

Water! - rushes over the fortress.

A daredevil was found and rushed to the river. He rushed and immediately collapsed. The soldier's enemies defeated him. Time passed, another brave one rushed forward. And he died. The third replaced the second. The third one also died.

A machine gunner was lying not far from this place. He was scribbling and scribbling the machine gun, and suddenly the line stopped. The machine gun overheated in battle. And the machine gun needs water.

The machine gunner looked - the water had evaporated from the hot battle, and the machine gun casing was empty. I looked to where the Bug is, where the channels are. Looked left, right.

Eh, it was not.

He crawled towards the water. He crawled on his bellies, pressing himself to the ground like a snake. He is getting closer and closer to the water. It's right next to the shore. The machine gunner grabbed his helmet. He scooped up water like a bucket. Again it crawls back like a snake. Getting closer to our people, closer. It's very close. His friends picked him up.

I brought some water! Hero!

The soldiers look at their helmets and at the water. His eyes are blurred from thirst. They don’t know that the machine gunner brought water for the machine gun. They are waiting, and suddenly a soldier will treat them now - at least a sip.

The machine gunner looked at the soldiers, at the dry lips, at the heat in his eyes.

“Come over,” said the machine gunner.

The soldiers stepped forward, but suddenly...

Brothers, it wouldn’t be for us, but for the wounded,” someone’s voice rang out.

The fighters stopped.

Of course, wounded!

That's right, take it to the basement!

The soldiers sent the fighter to the basement. He brought water to the basement where the wounded lay.

Brothers,” he said, “water...

“Have it,” he handed the mug to the soldier.

The soldier reached out to the water. I already took the mug, but suddenly:

No, not for me,” said the soldier. - Not for me. Bring it to the children, dear.

The soldier brought water to the children. But it must be said that in the Brest Fortress, along with adult fighters, there were also women and children - the wives and children of military personnel.

The soldier went down to the basement where the children were.

“Come on,” the fighter turned to the guys. “Come, stand,” and, like a magician, he takes out his helmet from behind his back.

The guys look - there is water in the helmet.

The children rushed to the water, to the soldier.

The fighter took the mug and carefully poured it to the bottom. He's looking to see who he can give it to. He sees a baby about the size of a pea nearby.

Here,” he handed it to the baby.

The kid looked at the fighter and at the water.

“Papa,” said the kid. - He's there, he's shooting.

Yes, drink, drink,” the fighter smiled.

No,” the boy shook his head. - Folder. - Never took a sip of water.

And others refused to follow him.

The fighter returned to his own people. He told about the children, about the wounded. He gave the helmet with water to the machine gunner.

The machine gunner looked at the water, then at the soldiers, at the fighters, at his friends. He took the helmet and poured water into the metal casing. It came to life, started working, and built a machine gun.

The machine gunner covered the fighters with fire. There were brave souls again. They crawled towards the Bug, towards death. The heroes returned with water. They gave water to the children and the wounded.

The defenders of the Brest Fortress fought bravely. But there were fewer and fewer of them. They were bombed from the sky. The cannons were fired directly. From flamethrowers.

The fascists are waiting, and people will ask for mercy. The white flag is about to appear.

We waited and waited, but the flag was not visible. Nobody asks for mercy.

For thirty-two days the battles for the fortress did not cease. “I am dying, but I am not giving up. Farewell, Motherland! - one of its last defenders wrote on the wall with a bayonet.

These were words of farewell. But it was also an oath. The soldiers kept their oath. They did not surrender to the enemy.

The country bowed to its heroes for this. And you stop for a minute, reader. And you bow low to the heroes.

Dubosekov's feat

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 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:

Twenty pieces.

Klochkov grinned:

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

Less,” said Private Yemtsov.

Of course, less,” Petrenko said.

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.

Apparently the robber choked,” said Sergeant Petrenko.

Eka, my tail between my 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. All the tanks are getting closer, closer.

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

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.

House

Aufwiederseen! Farewell! - the fascists shout.
“Ford,” someone suggested, “ford, Comrade General, across the river.”
General Katukov looked - the Maglusha River meanders. The banks near Maglushi are steep. Tanks cannot climb the steep slopes.
The general thought.
Suddenly a woman appeared near the tanks. There's a boy with her.
“It’s better there, near our house, comrade commander,” she turned to Katukov. - There is a river there already. Lift up position.

The tanks moved forward behind the woman. Here is a house in a ravine. Rise from the river. The place here is really better. And yet... The tankers are watching. General Katukov is looking. Without a bridge, tanks cannot get through here.
“We need a bridge,” say the tankers. - We need logs.
“There are logs,” the woman answered.
The tankers looked around: where were the logs?
“Yes, here they are,” says the woman and points to her house.
- So it’s home! - the tankers burst out.
The woman looked at the house, at the soldiers.
- Yes, the house is made of small pieces of wood. Either the people are losing... Should we be sad about the house now,” said the woman. - Really, Petya? - turned to the boy. Then again to the soldiers: - Take it apart, my dears.
The tankers do not dare touch the house. There is a cold in the yard. Winter is gaining strength. How can you be without a home at a time like this?
The woman understood:
- Yes, we’re in the dugout somehow. - And again to the boy: - Really, Petya?
“True, mama,” Petya answered.
And yet the tankers are standing there, crumpled.
Then the woman took an ax and walked to the edge of the house. She was the first to hit the crown.
“Well, thank you,” said General Katukov.
The tankers dismantled the house. We made a crossing. They rushed after the fascists. Tanks are passing along a new bridge. A boy and a woman are waving their hands at them.

What is your name? - the tankers shout. - Who should we remember with a kind word?
“Petenka and I are Kuznetsovs,” the woman answers, blushing.
- And by name, first name and patronymic?
- Alexandra Grigorievna, Pyotr Ivanovich.
- Low bow to you, Alexandra Grigorievna. Become a hero, Pyotr Ivanovich.
The tanks then caught up with the enemy column. They crushed the fascists. Then we went west.

The war has died down. Danced with death and misfortune. Her flashes subsided. But the memory of human exploits did not erase. The feat at the Maglushi River has not been forgotten either. Go to the village of Novopetrovskoye. In the same ravine, in the same place, a new house flaunts. The inscription on the house: “To Alexandra Grigorievna and Pyotr Ivanovich Kuznetsov for the feat accomplished during the Great Patriotic War.”
The Maglusha River meanders. There is a house above Maglusha. With a veranda, with a porch, in carved patterns. The windows look out onto the good world.

Novo-Petrovskoye, the place of the Kuznetsov family’s feat. On December 17, 1941, they gave their house to the tankmen of the 1st Guards Tank Brigade for the construction of a bridge across the Maglusha River. Eleven-year-old Petya Kuznetsov led tanks through a minefield, receiving a severe concussion in the process. There is a memorial plaque on the Kuznetsovs' house.

Dovator

Dovator is dashing and sparkling in battle. He sits well in the saddle. Cup cap on the head.

Commanded by General Dovator cavalry Cossack corps. The villagers look at the general:

Our blood is Cossack!

General Lev Mikhailovich Dovator

The fighters argue where he comes from:

From Kuban!

He is Tersky, Tersky.

Ural Cossack, from the Urals.

Trans-Baikal, Daurian, consider it a Cossack.

The Cossacks did not agree on a single opinion. Contacted Dovator:

Comrade corps commander, tell me, what village are you from?

Dovator smiled:

Comrades, you are looking in the wrong place. In the Belarusian forests there is a village.

And rightly so. Not a Cossack Dovator at all. He is Belarusian. In the village of Khotin, in the north of Belarus, not far from the city of Polotsk, this is where the corps commander Dovator was born.

Back in August - September, Dovator’s equestrian group walked along to the fascist rear. Destroyed warehouses, headquarters, and convoys. The Nazis suffered greatly back then. Rumors spread among the fascist soldiers - 100 thousand Soviet cavalry broke through to the rear. But in fact, there were only 3,000 people in Dovator’s cavalry group.

When Soviet troops near Moscow went on the offensive, Dovator’s Cossacks again broke through into the fascist rear.

The Nazis are afraid of Soviet horsemen. Behind every bush they see a Cossack...

The fascist generals set a reward for the capture of Dovator - 10 thousand German marks.

Like a thunderstorm, like spring thunder, Dovator moves through the fascist rear.

Gives fascists shivers. They will wake up hearing the whistle of the wind.

Dovator! - they shout. - Dovator!

They will hear the sound of hooves.

Dovator! Dovator!

The Nazis are raising the price. They assign 50 thousand marks for the Dovator. Like a dream, a myth for Dovator’s enemies.

Dovator rides on horseback. The legend follows him.

Fortress

The Nazis do not call city blocks neighborhoods, they write fortified areas. They don't call houses houses, they call them forts and bastions.

Stalingrad is a fortress, the fascists say.

German soldiers and officers write about this in letters to their homes. They read letters in Germany.

Stalingrad is a fortress, a fortress, they trumpet in Germany.

The generals are writing reports. Every line says the same thing:

“Stalingrad is a fortress. An impregnable fortress. Solid fortified areas. Invincible bastions."

Fascist newspapers publish articles. And these articles are all about the same thing:

"Our soldiers are storming the fortress."

"Stalingrad is the strongest fortress in Russia."

“Fortress, fortress!” - the newspapers shout. Even front-line leaflets write about this.

But Stalingrad was never a fortress. There are no special fortifications in it. The city is like a city. Houses, factories.

One of the fascist leaflets reached Soviet soldiers. The soldiers laughed: “Yeah, the fascists don’t write this because they have an easy life.” Then they carried and showed the leaflet to the member of the Military Council of the 62nd Army, Divisional Commissar Kuzma Akimovich Gurov; they say, look, Comrade Commissar, what fables the fascists write.

The commissioner read the leaflet.

“Everything here is correct,” he told the soldiers. - The fascists write the truth. And what about the fortress, of course?

The soldiers were confused. Maybe that's true. The boss always knows better.

“Fortress,” Gurov repeated. - Of course, a fortress.

The soldiers looked at each other. You won't argue with your boss!

Gurov smiled.

Your hearts and your courage - here it is, an impregnable fortress, here they are, insurmountable boundaries and fortified areas, walls and bastions.

Now the soldiers smiled too. The commissioner said clearly. It's nice to hear this.

Kuzma Akimovich Gurov is right. About the courage of Soviet soldiers - these are the walls against which the Nazis broke their necks in Stalingrad.

Twelve poplars

Presented to the commander:

Private Grigoryan.

Private Grigoryan.

Private Grigoryan.

Private Grigoryan.

What is this, the regiment commander is amazed. The soldiers continue their report:

Private Grigoryan.

Private Grigoryan.

Private Grigoryan.

The regiment commander doesn’t know what to do - are the soldiers joking with him?

Leave,” said the regiment commander.

The seven fighters introduced themselves. Five stand nameless. The company commander leaned towards the regiment commander, pointed to the others, and said quietly:

All Grigoryans too.

The regiment commander now looked in surprise at the company commander - was the company commander joking?

All Grigoryans. All twelve,” said the company commander.

Indeed, all twelve people in the department were Grigoryans.

Namesakes?

The twelve Grigoryans, from the elder Barsegh Grigoryan to the youngest Agasi Grigoryan, were relatives, members of the same family. They went to the front together. Together they fought, together they defended their native Caucasus.

One of the battles for the Grigoryan squad was especially difficult. The soldiers held an important line. And suddenly an attack by fascist tanks. People got along with metal. Tanks and Grigoryans.

The tanks climbed, climbed, and howled to tear apart the area. They threw fire without counting. The Grigoryans survived the battle. We held the line until ours arrived.

Victory comes at a heavy price. There is no war without death. There is no fight without death. Six Grigoryans dropped out of the department in that terrible battle with the Nazis.

It was twelve, six remained. The brave warriors continued to fight. They drove the fascists out of the Caucasus and Kuban. Then the fields of Ukraine were liberated. Soldier's honor and family honor were brought to Berlin.

There is no war without death. There is no fight without death. Three died in battle. The lives of two were shortened by bullets. Only the youngest Agasi Grigoryan returned unharmed from the battlefields.

In memory of the brave family, of the heroic warriors in their hometown Twelve poplars were planted in Leninakan.

The poplars have now grown. From meter-long seedlings they became giants. They stand in a row, one to one, like soldiers in formation - an entire squad.

Soldier Zhelobkovich walked with everyone. A soldier is walking along the Belarusian land, along the land of his father. Getting closer and closer to home. His village is Khatyn.

A soldier walks towards his company fighting friends:

Don't know Khatyn? Khatyn, brother, forest miracle!

And the soldier begins the story. The village stands in a clearing, on a hill. The forest parted here and gave free rein to the sun. Like, thirty houses in Khatyn. The houses scattered across the clearing. The wells slid into the ground. The road plunged into spruce trees. And where the road pressed against the forest, where the spruce trees leaned their trunks into the sky, on the very hill, on the highest edge of Khatyn, he lives - Ivan Zhelobkovich.

And Zhelobkovich lives opposite. And Zhelobkovich lives on the left. And Zhelobkovich lives on the right. There are, as they say, a dime a dozen of them, the Zhelobkovichs, in this Khatyn.

The warrior was walking towards his Khatyn.

I remembered the house. Those who remained in the house. He left his wife. An old mother, a three-year-old daughter, Mariska. A soldier is walking, carrying a gift for Marishka - a ribbon in her pigtail, a ribbon red as fire.

The troops are moving quickly. Soon the warrior will see his old mother. The mother will hug the old woman. The soldier will say:

Soon the soldier will see his wife. The soldier kisses his wife. The soldier will say:

He will take Marishka in his arms. The soldier will give Marishka a lift. He will also tell her:

The soldier will take out a gift:

Here you go, Marishka!

The warrior was walking towards his Khatyn. I thought about friends and neighbors. Soon he will see all the Zhelobkovichs. He will see the Yatskeviches, Rudakovs, Mironovichs. The soldier of Khatyn will smile. The soldier will say:

They went to Khatyn. Very close, a kilometer from these places.

Soldier to commander. Like, there’s a village nearby. Here, they say, is a ravine, behind the ravine there is a forest. We passed through a small forest, and here was Khatyn. The company commander listened.

Well, - he said, - go.

A soldier is walking towards Khatyn. Here is the ravine. Here is the little forest. The huts are about to appear. Now he will see his mother. Now he will hug his wife. Marishka will be given a gift. He will throw Marishka to the sun.

He passed through a small forest. I came out to the clearing. He came out and froze. He looks, doesn’t believe - Khatyn is no longer in its place. Burnt pipes alone stick out from the ashes.

The soldier stopped and shouted:

Where are people?! Where are people?!

People died in Khatyn. Adults, children, old women - everyone. The fascists came here:

Partisans! Bandits! Forest robbers!

The Nazis herded the residents into the barn. They burned all the people in the barn.

The soldier ran up to his father's house. Collapsed into ashes. The soldier began to sob and groan. He flew off and the gift fell out of his hands. The ribbon fluttered and began to beat in the wind. Soared with red flame above the ground.

Khatyn is not alone. There were many such Khatyns on Belarusian soil.

Sea on the right, mountains on the left

And here, beyond the Arctic Circle, there are battles. The Karelian Front is fighting.

Here you turn to face the front - mountains on the left, sea on the right. There, further behind the front line, lies the state of Norway. The Nazis captured the country of Norway.

In 1941, the Nazis broke into the Soviet Arctic. They tried to capture the city of Murmansk - our northernmost seaport.

Our troops did not allow the Nazis to reach Murmansk. Murmansk is not only the northernmost port, it is an ice-free port in the north. All year round, both in summer and winter, ships can come here. Important military cargo came to us by sea through Murmansk. That is why Murmansk is so important for the Nazis. The Nazis tried, but did not break through. Our heroes held Murmansk. And now the time has come to defeat the fascists here too.

The places for battle here are extremely difficult. Mountains. Cliffs. Rocks. Chilling winds. The sea is always knocking on the shore. There are many places here where only a deer will pass.

It was autumn. It was October. The long polar night is about to begin.

In preparation for the defeat of enemies in the north, the commander of the Karelian Front, Army General Kirill Afanasyevich Meretskov, turned to the Headquarters of the Supreme High Command in Moscow with a request to allocate KV tanks for the front. Their armor is thick, durable, and their weapons are powerful. KB- good tanks. However, by this time they were outdated.

General Meretskov asks at KB Headquarters, and they tell him:

Why KV. We will provide you with more advanced tanks.

No, please KB,” says Meretskov.

We were surprised at Headquarters:

Why is KB in the North? In many places only deer will pass by.

Where the deer passes, there they will pass soviet tanks, - Meretskov answers. - KV, please.

Well, look - you are the commander! - they said at Headquarters.

The front received these tanks.

The Nazis did not import tanks or heavy weapons to the Far North.

“Mountains, cliffs, rocks. Where can we bother with heavy tanks,” they reasoned.

And suddenly Soviet tanks appeared, and also KVs.

Tanks?! - the fascists are perplexed. - KB? What's happened! How? Why? Where?! Only a deer will pass through here!

Soviet tanks attacked the Nazis.

On October 7, 1941, the offensive of Soviet troops in the Far North began. Our troops quickly broke through the fascist defenses. We broke through and went forward.

Of course, it's not just tanks here main role played. The attack came from land. The attack came from the sea. On the left is the infantry, on the right is the Northern Fleet. They hit from the air Soviet pilots. In general, sailors, infantrymen, tank crews, and aviators fought here. The overall result was victory.

The battles for the liberation of the Soviet Arctic ended the year 1944 - a combative and decisive year. 1945 was approaching - a victorious year.

The war is counting the last meters

The soldier never dreamed of such a thing. He's in Berlin. He's at the Reichstag. The soldier looks at the building. Columns, columns, columns. A glass dome tops the top.

The soldiers fought their way here. In the latest attacks, in last battles soldiers. Last meters war counts.

Gerasim Lykov was born in a shirt. He has been fighting since 1941. Knew the retreats, knew the surroundings, two year goes by forward. The fate of the soldier was guarded.

“I’m lucky,” the soldier joked. - There is no bullet cast for me in this war. The projectile is not machined for me.

And it’s true that the soldiers’ fate was not touched by their fate.

Waiting for a soldier in a distant land Russian wife and parents. The soldier's children are waiting.

They are waiting for the winner. Are waiting!

In the attack, in the rush of a dashing soldier. The war is counting the last meters. The soldier does not hide his joy. The soldier looks at the Reichstag, at the building. Columns, columns, columns. A glass dome tops the top.

The last sound of the war.

Forward! Hooray! - the commander shouts.

Hurray! - repeats Lykov.

And suddenly a shell hit next to the soldier. He raised the earth with the ninth shaft. She shot down a soldier. The soldier is covered with earth.

Those who saw just gasped:

That's how the bullet wasn't cast for him.

This is how the projectile is not machined.

Everyone in Lykov's company knows him - an excellent comrade, an exemplary soldier.

He should live and live. I would like to return to my wife and parents. It's a joy to kiss children.

And suddenly the shell hit again. Near the first place. A little out of the way. This one also exploded enormous power. He raised the earth with the ninth shaft.

The soldiers look and don’t believe their eyes.

The soldier turned out to be alive. He fell asleep - his shell fell asleep. That's how fate happens. To know, the bullet really wasn’t cast for him. The shell for it is not machined.

Victory Banner

I am Sergeant Egorov.

Junior Sergeant Kantaria.

I, junior sergeant Kantaria.

The commander called the soldiers to him. Soviet soldiers were entrusted with an honorable task. They were presented with a battle flag. This banner had to be installed on the Reichstag building.

The fighters left. Many looked after them with envy. Everyone now wanted to be in their place.

There is a battle going on at the Reichstag.

Bent down, Egorov and Kantaria run across the square. Soviet soldiers are closely watching their every move. Suddenly the Nazis opened furious fire, and the standard bearers had to lie down for cover. Then our fighters begin the attack again. Egorov and Kantaria run further.

Now they are already on the stairs. We ran up to the columns supporting the entrance to the building. Kantaria sits Egorov down, and he tries to attach the banner at the entrance to the Reichstag.

“Oh, it would be higher!” - breaks out from the fighters. And, as if hearing their comrades, Egorov and Kantaria take down the banner and run on. They burst into the Reichstag and disappear behind its doors.

The battle is already going on on the second floor. Several minutes pass, and in one of the windows, not far from central entrance, the Red Banner appears again. Appeared. It swayed. And it disappeared again.

The soldiers became worried. What about your comrades? Aren't they killed?!

A minute passes, two, ten. Anxiety grips the soldiers more and more. Another thirty minutes pass.

And suddenly a cry of joy breaks out from hundreds of fighters. Friends are alive. The banner is intact. Crouching, they run at the very top of the building - along the roof. Here they are straightened up to their full height, holding the banner in their hands and waving greetings to their comrades. Then they suddenly rush to the glass dome, which rises above the roof of the Reichstag, and carefully begin to climb even higher.

There were still battles in the square and in the building, and on the roof of the Reichstag, at the very top, in the spring sky above defeated Berlin, the Victory Banner was already confidently fluttering. Two Soviet soldiers, the Russian worker Mikhail Egorov and the Georgian youth Militon Kantaria, and with them thousands of other fighters different nationalities through the war they brought it here, to the very fascist lair, and installed it for fear of enemies, as a symbol of the invincibility of Soviet weapons.

Several days passed, and the fascist generals admitted that they were finally defeated. Hitler's Germany was completely defeated. Great liberation war of the Soviet people against fascism ended in our complete victory.

It was May 1945. Spring thundered. The people and the land rejoiced. Moscow saluted the heroes. And joy flew into the sky like lights.