Guys, we put our soul into the site. Thanks for that
for discovering this beauty. Thanks for the inspiration and goosebumps.
Join us at Facebook And In contact with
Little yellowed triangles reeking of gunpowder, shabby pages with faded ink and blots. Letters from the front are still carefully kept in many families and passed on as a relic to future generations so that we never forget. Each letter is imbued with longing and love, hope for the future and stories about life in the rear and on the front lines.
Each letter has its own story, reflecting, like a mirror, the fate of families that have been touched by the terrible and inevitable hand of war. Letters from which goosebumps, a lump in the throat and tears in the eyes. Letters that tell the story of an entire nation, letters that have become history itself.
website prepared a selection of front-line letters to preserve the memory of the war. At least to make sure it never happens again.
“Hello, dear son of Tolya! June 22 marks one year since I haven't seen you. I miss you so much, I think about you often. You are already five years old, that's how big you are. Grow up, son, be smart, love your brother, teach him. I'll be back soon. Here we will drive out all the Nazis, and I will return. I kiss you hard. Your dad".
From a letter from an unknown soldier
“My girl, prepare yourself for parting. Ahead of 1942. Live, like me, in the hope of meeting.
“Hello, Verusinka and little son Edinka! Verushechka, don't be sad. Get ready for winter. Buy your son felt boots and sew him a fur coat. Love you. Alexei".
From the letters of Alexei Rogov, squadron commander of the air regiment. He received the title of Hero of the Soviet Union posthumously.
“Wounded in the right leg. They did an operation, they pulled out a fragment. The wound is light - I already go to the dressing myself. I hope that it will heal soon and again I will beat the German reptile. For our exhausted Soviet people, for you, my relatives.
Guards Sergeant Andrey Gadenov. November 10, 1942
Soldier Boris Ruchiov
“Not far from the place where we stand, there is a camp. Annihilation camp. You must have read in the newspapers about the camp at Maidansk. So this camp is several times superior to the Maidan one. Six million people were killed there.<...>Chambers in which people were suffocated with gas; ovens for burning corpses; the ditches into which the corpses were dumped, or rather, were stacked with German accuracy - one row of heads in one direction, the other in the other. Ditches filled to the brim with blood. And in everything and everywhere this devilish German accuracy.
Perhaps not everyone in the rear believes the descriptions of these countless horrors. Indeed, it is hard to believe that people who look like us could reach such inhuman cruelty. But when you see all this, you ask yourself the question: who are these creatures who wanted to exterminate humanity? Are these people? Of course they are not people! The end of these horrors will soon come, there will be retribution.
Boris Ruchev. March 7, 1945
“... There is little free time. A lot to learn on the go. But do not despair. We will win. Mom, dad and grandma, don't worry about me. Do not Cry. Everything is fine. Your son Kolya.
Nikolay Dronov. Died near Kerch in 1942
Heroes of the Soviet Union senior sergeant Zakir Asfandiyarov and sergeant Veniamin Permyakov read a letter from home
“In the days when you, dear Alexander Konstantinovich, not sparing your life, defend every meter of Soviet territory, we vow to study “good” and “excellent”, to be disciplined, to help the front. Only you, dear defenders of the Motherland, smash the enemy hated by the entire Soviet people.
Schoolchildren's letter to their teacher Alexander Benevolensky to the front
“Hello, my dear and forever beloved by me guys! An hour ago, in the dugout, I recalled the battle results, my relatives and friends. The door opened - and together with the puffs of cold air, the postman entered the dugout. He gives me a letter written in a child's handwriting, I open the envelope with excitement. My comrades asked me to read your letter aloud, which I did. We are all happy that our little comrades remember us and send us their pioneer greetings.
Your kind words, your wishes are very dear to us. They keep us warm. For four months now, I have been with my comrades on this sector of the front. We arrived here in the days when the enemy, having gathered all his forces, was trying to capture the city. Hundreds of planes were flying over us, dropping hundreds of bombs every day. The city was covered in the smoke of conflagrations, houses, factories, timber piles, gas tanks were burning, what was created by the many years of work of the people of our Motherland was burning.
The enemy spared nothing. But we managed to fulfill Stalin’s order and the command of the Motherland: “Not a step back!” We survived, although at times it was very difficult, especially on days when thick ice was on the Volga and people had to deliver food and ammunition to us under artillery and mortar fire .
The fact that Stalingrad was defended is the merit not only of the soldiers, but of the entire Soviet people, it is the merit of the rear, which uninterruptedly forged weapons for us, sent equipment and ammunition. Remember, guys, there will be a holiday on our street ...
Master knowledge, study firmly the Russian language and literature, geography and history, military affairs and German. We promise you to fulfill our tasks, and you will cope with your tasks perfectly. If we do this, we will defeat the enemy. With front-line greetings, A. Benevolensky.
On the eve of the great Holiday - Victory Day, a selection of letters was made that soldiers from the front wrote to their loved ones in the rear.
Fragments of letters from the front and a photograph of gunner-radio operator Georgy Gorelov, who died in July 1943 near Kursk
good afternoon my
Relatives Mom, Lucy,
Igor and Lenochka!!!
Dear, I'm sorry that I haven't written to you for such a long time. I received all your letters, for which Thanks a lot. There are very few of them, my family. How I want to read your letter in a free minute, and even such as you write. After such a letter, you still become angrier, even more desire to do more, to beat this reptile harder. Thank you, dear, for such letters. I am very pleased, I don’t even know how to convey my joy, that although through letters, you are with me.
How good it is that all mothers, sisters, brothers, relatives and friends are forging victory with us - this is another of the three pledges of our victory. Of course, it’s a pity to die, but at the same time I want to die, if your death brings the hour of victory closer, you, my relatives, will live wonderfully, you will sing wonderful songs about us and will proudly say that your own son , brother, uncle died honestly in the struggle for his homeland, for liberation.
My darlings, I'm doing well. Only I haven't received a letter from Kolya for a long time, and I haven't written to him myself for a long time.
How cute are you?
How is your health, mommy?
Write more and often.
I kiss your Jora firmly
Field mail 575 261 B.A.O Gorelov
GARO. F.R-4408. Op. 1. D. 2. L. 1-1ob.
good afternoon dear
Mom, Nyusya, Igor, Lenochka!
I received your letter. Thank you very much, and most of all thank you for your congratulations on my 25th birthday.
I live dear in the old way, i.e. nothing significant happened on my front.
Dear Mummy, you ask what kind of ... hair I have ... at first it seemed a little gray, but I pulled it out, so now there is not much, only wrinkles on my forehead and I don’t know what to do.
I receive letters from ... She writes that everything is in order with her. I am sending you my photo. .. in February ... hastily ... made.
Dear mother, how are you? You don't think about me the least. It will be better for you.
Dear sister and nieces, how are you, how are you?
Igor, shame on you, you don't write anything to me. You don't know how nice it is to read a letter from your relatives now.
It’s already dark, I can’t see anything, I write for good luck, out of habit.
Bye. Best wishes. I kiss everyone hard. Write. Your Zhora.
GARO. F.R-4408. Op. 1. D. 2. L. 2-2ob
Hello dear mother,
I send you my warm Red Army greetings and inform you that I am alive and well, and I wish you the same.
I feel even better than before the injury. It wounded me, as I already wrote to you, in the lower back. In the gap between Orsha and Vitebsk. He was in the hospital in Yartsevo, Smolensk region. Mom, I haven't received the money you sent me yet. Of course, there is an opportunity to take a picture, but there is no money. Mom, write in more detail what happened to Nikolai Borisovich. In the meantime, I finish writing, your son Victor remains. Hello to all relatives and friends.
GARO. F. R-4408. Op.1. D. 9. L. 3, 9
Letters from soldiers from Chuvashia during the Great Patriotic War.
Extract from the letter of M. Sakharov, the army, according to the letter of Suwalki, dated December 7, 1914 to Elena Timofeevna Volkova, to Moscow, Dobraya Slobidka, 14, apt. 13.“Tomorrow we return to German soil. We are standing there 15 miles from the city of Angerburg. For a whole month, the troops have been digging in the viscous mud, punching trenches in the direction of the fortified enemy. The soldiers were terribly exhausted. fall asleep.
<...>It must be confessed that the war is beginning to tire everyone. The impulse of inspiration cannot last forever. Military everyday life is coming, associated with labors, hardships, mitigated only by the thought of ultimate success.
Extract from the letter of V. Mashtakov, from the army, November 30, 1914, to the priest Peter Vasilyevich Naumov, at st. Candle of the North. D., the village of Yuma. (26th Infantry Mogilev Regiment).
“Our army is in dire financial need: most of the boots are torn, they don’t have linen, bread is rarely given out, 2 times a week, more often once. The bread given out is enough for two days, no more, so you often have to be hungry. Good also, if you manage to replace bread with potatoes, otherwise you won’t get it in any way.
<...>We do not know when, finally, we will stop the movement of this German avalanche, when we will drive the Germans out of Russia. Lost faith in the power of Russia, it hurts, it hurts. Strong battles go on all fronts daily. Many fell on the battlefield, many more will fall.
And who will return unharmed? We were already close to the border, and now the Germans are again near Petrakov. All the fields where the battles took place are littered with our soldiers and Germans who were killed and died from wounds. And how many more will fall! War... What a horror! Death and destruction all around."
Extract from a letter signed "your Sashik", from the army, November 19, 1914, to Tatyana Dmitrievna Chaplygina, in Tiflis, Belinskaya, 7. (5th Battery of the Caucasian Grenadier Grand Duke Mikhail Nikolaevich Artillery Brigade).
"We have been going non-stop since November 8 and making transitions of 35-40 miles a day. People come to sleep at 9-10 pm. Many of their boots are torn and they are barefoot. But, however, our superiors will receive gratitude from above for surprisingly fast movement."
Extract from the letter of G. Schell, without indicating the place of departure, but on the postmark Novo-Minsk, Warsaw province, dated December 6, 1914, to A.G. Shell in Odessa.
"There is a terrible loss of officers in our army. Lieutenants command companies and even battalions, there is no more than one officer in companies. Most often a warrant officer, and people without an officer are terribly lost and look like a flock of sheep."
Extract from a letter signed "N.", Warsaw, November 23, 1914, to I.M. Balkashin, in Kerensk, Penza province.
"Warsaw train stations are littered with the wounded, lying on the straw for four days, waiting to be sent inside Russia."
Extract from a letter signed "your Vasya", Warsaw, November 26, 1914, to Countess E.V. Musina-Pushkina, in Petrograd.
“Thanks to some kind of train blockage, a huge number of wounded suddenly appeared in Warsaw. These unfortunate people occupied all the stations; there was absolutely nowhere to put them, since all the places in Warsaw were already occupied. I myself saw all the horrors that happened at the stations.
There was absolutely not a corner at the whole station where a wounded man would not roll in the mud or on the bare floor. In some halls it was impossible to squeeze through, as the wounded stood completely solid and could not even lie down, but even sit down somewhere. All of them had not been bandaged or fed for a long time."
Extract from a letter from D. Kuznetsov, the settlement of departure is not indicated (headquarters of the 9th Army), dated December 12, 1914, to Pavel Pavlovich Kuznetsov, in Moscow, B. Alekseevskaya st., Sukhova village.
"We work in the forward detachment near the positions. All the wounded from the positions are so dirty, ragged and hungry that you involuntarily shudder from the mass of suffering that they endure."
Extract from a letter signed "Grisha", from the army, December 17, 1914, to Nikolai Dmitrievich Nizhnikov, in Nosovichi, Mogilev province, Gomel district, Pribytkovskoye Zemstvo School. Sender's address: active army, 2nd company of the 12th Siberian Infantry Regiment of the Tsarevich.
"Whoever has not been here cannot imagine all the horrors that a real war brings with it. From the roar of guns and rifle fire, one cannot hear each other. Shells fly continuously day and night with a screech and howl, celebrating their victory over the civilization of the XX th century.
The life of a soldier in war is the life of a mole or a hedgehog. Only at night can he get out of his hole relatively safely, go for water, get a portion. You have little sleep: after the shots and the roar, the dream turns into some kind of half-drowsiness, when you sleep and hear everything.
Nerves are strained to the last opportunity, both from position and from deprivations of all kinds. You don’t have to undress and take off your shoes for a month or more. Lice grow to an amazing size, and they alone bring a lot of constant torment to a person.
About the fact that you have to not eat, not drink, not sleep, etc., and there is nothing to say - this is a common occurrence. Who was in the war, participated in it, he could understand what a great evil it is. People should strive to destroy it."
Extract from a letter signed: "Borya", active army, dated November 27, 1914, to Pavel Borisovich Mansurov, in Moscow, Vozdvizhenka, 8, Vagankovsky lane.
“For three weeks there were continuous frosts. The soldiers, apart from their usual overcoats, had nothing warm; the mass was completely healthy, but with frostbitten hands and feet.
Of course, it was always possible to foresee that there are colds in winter; therefore, no justification can be found for the commissariat that it did not supply the units with warm clothes in a timely manner.
Sleep, despite the greatest fatigue, is almost impossible under such conditions in the cold, therefore it is impossible to look at our infantry otherwise than at the martyrs of the first times of Christianity.
Worst of all, it is impossible to move at all in the trenches, since anyone who leans out even for a moment is threatened by an enemy bullet, and our trenches are not deep, since they dug in the frozen ground under enemy fire.
Extract from a letter from Luka Kondratovich, from the active army, dated December 14, 1914, to Natalya Lukinishna Kondratovich, in Krasnopole, Kharkov province.
"We must do justice to our enemy. He fights with incredible stubbornness, but our troops show so much heroism that it's hard to believe your own eyes. Ours cannot be defeated, but only exterminated."
Extract from a letter from Fortescue, Warsaw, December 11, 1914, to E. Wilkoks, in Petrograd, Nevsky, 28. Translation from English.
"The battle for the possession of Bzura is a desperate, endless struggle. 4 days of hesitant battle did not stop the further pressure of most of the German forces on the angle formed by Bzura, Rava with Pilica. Attacks and counterattacks did not stop day or night.
These first-line soldiers really appear to be superhuman, rushing back and forth when repulsed and attacked. As on the Yser, the Germans seem to have put everything at stake to cross the Bzura. Just as they directed their desperate attack on Calais, so now they are sacrificing division after division in the attack on Warsaw.
Under cover of night, they throw a pontoon bridge over the river, but when their troops appear on the steep banks of a yellowish stream, Russian gunfire sweeps them to the ground.
The boats of the floating bridges are dragged ashore by the daring Russians. Along the outline of the rivers, two rows of parallel trenches (German on one side and Russian on the other) stretch continuously to the north and south. From these trenches the soldiers maintain an almost ceaseless fire day and night.
South of Sokhachev, the Russians allowed the Germans to cross the river at night until 15,000 of them were on the east bank. Then one of our corps closed on three sides with the enemy.
The encircled division fought with the desperation of those condemned to death, but when the pale dawn appeared in the east, 8,000 German prisoners of war walked dejectedly along the Kalisz road towards Warsaw. The bank of the stream looked like a slaughterhouse. The miserable remnants made their way back to the German side of the river.
Russia has the finest material for building a soldier that I have ever seen in any part of the world. Nothing can cool their spirit. You need to spend one day at the front in this frosty weather to appreciate what people endure in the trenches. Add to the bitter cold and damp wind the fatigue of constant vigilance, not to mention exhaustion in battle, and your admiration will have no limits.
Extract from a letter without a signature. From the active army, without indicating the number, to Zinaida Mikhailovna Turoverova in Novocherkassk, Mariinskaya, 15. (Outgoing Warsaw. Incoming No. 6 739 December 20, 1914. Petrograd) (6th hundred of the 2nd Don Cossack His Imperial Highness the Heir to the Tsarevich Regiment ).
"On November 28, we sat in the trenches and repelled the attacks of the Germans, but they did not come closer than 400 steps, but turned back and left. 4 times they approached our trenches (you could clearly see the face), but could not withstand our fire and turned back.
Sazonov and I lay side by side in the trenches, firing at their officers and choosing the bigger soldiers. Well, then the damned ones were imposed! They walked in silence, without a shot, like a wall. We let them close, for the surest shot, and opened a terrible fire. The front ones fell like beveled ones, and the rear ones turned and left.
The frost tore at the skin and the hair on our heads stood on end. I think that Sazonov, the sergeant-major and I sent quite a few Germans to the other world at that time. They got pretty close. Their faces are pale when they come towards us. It was terrible. God bless you to be there another time!"
Extract from a letter signed: "your Vitya", active army, dated December 10, 1914, to Colonel I.I. Sokolsky in Gomel.
"In some places, our trenches approach the Germans at 150-200 paces, so you literally can’t stick your head out, because bullets start whistling right away. Our trenches are on one side of the Bzura, the Germans are on the other. We are defending the bridge. Yesterday the Germans wanted to cross on our side, but, having let them up to the middle of the bridge, we opened such hellish fire that the Germans had to run headlong.
Literally mountains of corpses were piled on the bridge. Today they again wanted to either cross or remove the corpses. Our artillery with its well-aimed fire at the moment cleared the bridge of red-faced sausages.
To the right of us, they, by all means, wanted to cross. They rushed into the ford up to their throats in the water, but our machine gunners and arrows did not let them reach the middle. After the battle, they say, the water in the river turned pink.
Yes, it should be so, since there were at least 5-6 thousand of them here, and all this remained in the river. What will happen in the spring and summer, when all this begins to rot, especially since, in order to hide their losses, they very often throw their dead into rivers and wells, contaminating the water.
A copy of the letter signed: "Nikolai", active army, dated December 9, 1914, to Nina Alexandrovna Reika, in Petrograd.
"I must tell you the sad news. The entire regiment was killed. Only we and those in the train were saved. This happened on December 6, the 2nd battalion died almost all in the fire, and from the rest of the battalions, those who survived fell into captivity.
The commander was with the 7th company, i.e., in the 2nd battalion, and also probably died, because there was probably no one left alive from the 2nd battalion, or maybe someone accidentally hit in captivity. The rest are all held captive.
We have been searching for the second day now, and none of the Dukhovshchinites can be found anywhere. There are not even any wounded from whom one could learn anything. All remained in the fire and the Germans. You understand not a soul. Like a whole regiment sunk into the water.
<...>Note E. The original letter is on hold.
Thin sheets of paper, covered with neat, small handwriting, were carefully kept wrapped in old newspapers for more than 70 years. her grandfather, who died in the war in 1942, an Orenburg woman Tatyana Goryacheva found recently. She knew about their existence, but she had never seen them - her grandmother and father kept them carefully and did not even show them to the soldier's grandchildren. Perhaps because of this, the words of love and anxiety, written in the trenches "on the knee", can be read today.
“My dear Nyukoshka, Lara and Tolyushka!” - all front-line letters from the Orenburger Blinov to his family (wife Evdokia, daughter and son) begin with undisguised tenderness. He sent dozens of envelopes and postcards to his native Chkalov in less than a year (namely, so much the commissar spent at the front). According to some of them, it is possible to restore the picture of war and peace seen by the Soviet soldier.
December 6, 1941
“... I participated directly in the battles with the Nazis three times - and I must say, I didn’t feel any fear and fear, but on the contrary, calmness seized me, and I had to influence other excited and nervous fighters.<…>He began to write, the bombing began. My only sadness is the lack of any information about how you live. I kiss you hard. I kiss my dear children, Lara and Tolyushka. Kiss them from me, and they kiss you.
December 27, 1941
“... The part is in constant motion. We went through the entire Moscow region, clearing it of fascist invaders. Nuka, say hello to my mother and relatives.”
January 15, 1941
“... Dear Nyukasha! I'm worried about the lack of letters from you. I left the house on October 8, and at least one word from the house was - nothing at all. Maybe you don't get letters from me?
I ask you, upon receipt of this letter, to write what and how in the family ... I am still alive, I am more than interested in this. My family is dear to me, and I want to know about it, and if they kill me, which is quite possible in the conditions of the front, then I will not need it.
Nyukashka, honey, I'm sure you will do it.
Yellowed envelopes are kept in many families of Russians. Photo: AiF / Polina Sedova
January 29, 1942
“...Today I turned 37 years old. How much time I have left is hard to say. In a combat situation, there is nothing surprising. The man was just alive, they talked to him, and five minutes later he is gone. I am writing from the border of the Moscow and Smolensk regions. Upon leaving the encirclement with my former unit, I serve in the artillery battalion of a rifle brigade, awarded in January for military merit and renamed the 14th Guards Rifle Brigade. Therefore, I am a guardsman-artilleryman.
February 8, 1942
“My dears, I have received your letters. Good match. Both letters were for me an expensive gift from you. I received the first letter before my birthday, and the second the next day. Kisses for the letters.
You write that you are doing well. If so, I am very satisfied and calm. I won't mind at all if you sell the gramophone with records or, in extreme cases, give it back and pay off your debts. Do you receive allowance for the guys and do you need a certificate that I am in the army? Write.
I wish you the very best. Kiss hard. Father, husband Eugene.
Yevgeny Blinov wrote to his family right from the battlefield. Photo: AiF / Polina Sedova
February 11, 1942
“My joy, daughter Larochka! Are you asking how I live? I live in the forest in a hut - as if I had lived all my life. I'm used to the cold. I live and sleep in the air, I eat in the air, I work in the air. I'll describe it to you another time in more detail, now I'm in a hurry. I kiss you, my dear daughter, and everyone else. Your dad".
February 12, 1942
“I receive letters from you in a combat situation - this is a great happiness. When our postmen say that you have letters, believe it, the heart is beating hard, and it looks like it will burst into pieces with joy. Front life brings a lot of hardships, and even more so when the enemy is active. And under these conditions, receiving letters from your friends brightens up and makes everyday life easier.
Thanks to careful storage, the ink on the paper has not yet faded. Photo: AiF / Polina Sedova
March 8, 1942
“Congratulations on International Women's Day, and dear sweet Nyukasha on your name day. I wish you a healthy, happy, calm, life-free and educate our dear children without need and grief.
March 25, 1942
“Today I am leaving the hospital and going to the convalescent battalion. I feel after the flu, caught already in the hospital, not yet fully recovered.
In your last letter, you write about the garden that you want to do in the spring. Where will this garden be? Having a garden is not a bad thing, but you will finally be tormented with it. You will have to work in the evenings, after work and on weekends, therefore, you will not have any rest at all.
One of the first letters from the front, on thick paper with imprinted congratulations. Photo: AiF / Polina Sedova
July 16, 1942
“I'm worried about the health of everyone - especially my dear daughter Larochka. Don't feel sorry for things, sell them (especially mine) and buy groceries for yourself and the guys. Health, in the end, is more expensive than any rags that you can buy, albeit at exorbitant prices, but you can’t buy health in the market.
Ask Uncle Polikasha to take Tolyushka somehow to the Urals to go fishing. Maintain your health for the sake of the guys. It may happen that I will not be, and you will also be bad. I kiss you, thin, my dear Nyukashka, all from head to toe. Kisses guys."
In less than a year of front-line life, Yevgeny sent dozens of letters home. Photo: AiF / Polina Sedova
August 31, 1942
“I am writing from a dugout to the whistle of artillery shells, being 250-300 meters away from the German bastard. Today we will move forward. I hope the fascist bastards get what they deserve.
I feel good, the food is excellent. Yesterday I received all the new uniforms - entirely, but now it's hard to find out. From climbing over and lying in the cracks and dugouts, he was smeared all over in clay and looked like a stove-maker. Well, the clay, they say, is not fat - I rubbed it and lagged behind, so after the fight I’ll put myself in order.
Everything that we had with you, my dear Nyukasha, troubles, forgive and forget forever. Your Eugene.
The front triangles of Yevgeny Blinov will soon pass to his grown-up great-grandchildren. Photo: AiF / Polina Sedova
This letter was the last. He made a postscript at the end, as if anticipating that he would not survive this battle and that he would never have to write again. A few days later, on September 3, 1942, Evgeny Blinov died near the village of Bekrino, Temkinsky district, Smolensk region, and was buried in a mass grave. He, like the millions of Soviet soldiers who fought for peace and happy life relatives who remained in the rear were not destined to hug grown-up children, babysit grandchildren and see great-grandchildren.
Old paper stubbornly rolls over folds that were pressed through more than sixty years ago. Faded ink, faded printing ink on postcards. Letters from the front are still carefully kept in many families. Each triangle has its own story: happy or sad. It also happened that sometimes news from the front that a loved one was alive and well came after a terrible official envelope. But mothers and wives believed: the funeral came by mistake. And they waited - for years, decades.
Letters from the fronts of the Great Patriotic War- documents of great power. In the lines smelling of gunpowder - the breath of war, the rudeness of harsh trench everyday life, the tenderness of a soldier's heart, faith in Victory ...
During the war years, great importance was attached to the decoration of postal correspondence connecting the front and rear - envelopes, postcards, paper.
This is a kind of artistic chronicle of the war hard times, an appeal to the heroic past of our ancestors, a call for a merciless struggle against the invaders.
16-year-old Sonya Stepina did not immediately dare to write a letter to the front to the former mathematics teacher Mikhail Yeskin and confess her love to him. And only after several letters that the school staff received from him, Sonya sent a message to Mikhail. In it, the girl wrote: “I often remember your lessons, Mikhail Petrovich. I remember how I trembled and trembled at every sound of your voice ... "
And soon the platoon commander Mikhail Yeskin answered Sonya: “I read your letter with great joy. You have no idea how happy people are here, reading letters from friends and relatives. Correspondence became constant. When Mikhail told Sonya that he was “slightly scratched and is now in bed in the medical battalion,” the girl answered with vehemence: “I would fly if I had wings ...” The young people fell in love with each other.
This correspondence lasted for almost three years. In 1944, Mikhail and Sonya got married.
With the outbreak of hostilities, millions of people ended up in the army. There was a mass evacuation from the front line. Many people have changed addresses, places of residence. The war separated thousands of families. All hope was in the mail, which helped to find loved ones - in the rear and at the front. Thousands of letters, postcards, newspapers and magazines went to the front every day. No less letters went from the front - to different cities, towns and villages, to where relatives were left.
Many of the fighters' letters are written in simple language, mostly about what worried them. Only now it is difficult to read these lines - a lump gets stuck in the throat, and tears come to the eyes. Vasily Ivanovich Volkov, a resident of Altai, where his family remained, addresses his wife in a letter: “Dear Manya! I send greetings to the children - Zoya, Kolya and Valya. I'm alive and well. Manechka, take care of the children. Pay attention to Zoe's health. She is weak. She needs to drink milk."
The war spared no one. She was cruel to this family, too. Vasily Volkov had two brothers killed during the war. His sister Maria lived in Leningrad, where she was in charge of a kindergarten. During the crossing along the "Road of Life", a car with children from shelling went under the ice in front of her eyes. Shaken by what she saw, Maria became seriously ill, and in 1947 she died. The brothers of Vasily Volkov's wife also died in battle. Senior Lieutenant Vasily Volkov himself died a heroic death in 1943. It was difficult for Mana Volkova. Zoya at that time had just turned 10 years old, her sister Valya was 7, her brother Kolya was 3 years old.
Today it is almost impossible to find a museum or an archive where the letters of the front-line soldiers are not kept, which sometimes the researchers “do not get their hands on”. But the history of the Second World War through the eyes of its participants is an important historical source. And experts believe that the work of collecting letters from the front should be continued, because the keepers of soldiers' letters are dying.
For more than 60 years, a Muscovite, a retired major, Julius Solomonovich Lurie, has been collecting letters from front-line soldiers. The first letter in this large collection was a letter from his father from the front, which Yulia's family received in 1941. Julius himself was a teenager at that time. In a large collection of Lurie's letters, there are front-line messages from soldiers - from a soldier to a marshal. So, private Vitaly Yaroshevsky, addressing his mother, wrote: "If I die, I will die for our homeland and for you." Pyotr Sorokin, who went missing in 1941, managed to write only a few letters to his relatives. Here are the lines of one of the latter.
“Hello mommy! Don't worry about me... I've already passed my baptism of fire. We will be in Kronstadt, I will definitely send you silk for a dress. But he didn't.
Aleksey Rogov, the squadron commander of the air regiment, who made more than 60 sorties, sent his news to his wife and little son to his native city. In each of his appeals to his wife, genuine love and concern for loved ones are felt. “My girl,” Alexei wrote to his wife from Novocherkassk, “prepare yourself for parting. Ahead of 1942. Live, like me, in the hope of meeting. He sent the following letter home from the Moscow region: “Hello, Verusinka, and sonny Edinka! Verushechka, don't be sad. Get ready for winter. Buy your son felt boots and sew him a fur coat. Love you. Alexei". The last letter is dated early October 1941. Alexey wrote it a few days before his death. He received the title of Hero of the Soviet Union posthumously.
Nikolai Dronov, who died near Kerch in 1942, dreamed of living to victory. “... There is little free time. A lot to learn on the go. But do not despair. We will win. Mom, dad and grandma, don't worry about me. Do not Cry. Everything is fine. Your son Kolya.
There was not a person at the front who would not miss his home. It is no coincidence that almost all letters begin with an appeal to relatives and friends: “dear mother”, “my relatives”, “my dear children”, “beloved Masha”, etc. As a rule, in the letters of the fighters there are short stories about the war. They sent poems, photographs, clippings from leaflets to relatives. Since the letters were written directly from the battlefield, "from the front line", as the war went on, the front-line soldiers increasingly indicated the places where the battle was going on. Usually with just one line: “I am writing from Prussia”, “they defended the Oder”, “greetings from Belarus”.
Until the very victory, the guards foreman Natalya Chernyak fought. In her letter to her mother, she wrote: “Dear mother! Yesterday we had a big holiday in the unit. Our corps was awarded the Guards banner. Mom, they gave me new boots. My 36th size. Imagine how pleased I am. It's 3 am now. I am on duty and I am writing to you. I read Mayakovsky in my free time. Yes, I almost forgot, mommy, send me the notes: Strauss waltzes "Voices of Spring", "On the Blue Danube", Ukrainian and Russian songs. This is necessary for our orchestra."
For a long time, letters from the front of Fadey Fadeevich Zenko were kept in the Zenko family of Muscovites, until his relatives transferred them to the museum. Fadey Zenko died shortly after the victory. His letters are addressed to his wife Anna and children. Together with the staff of the Institute of Engineers railway transport she was evacuated to the Urals. Anna Ivanovna with two children settled in the village, where she was elected deputy chairman of the collective farm.
It was hard, hard. But letters from her husband helped her survive. He was worried about how his wife and children would endure the Ural frosts: “It's great that you bought felt boots. We need to sew hats with earflaps so that our kids do not freeze. Anya, don't forget to think about yourself." There is a great desire of the husband to somehow protect his wife and children from adversity. The children of Fadey Zenko recalled that their mother, reading letters from the front, either cried or laughed. They charged her with their optimism.
There were not enough people on the collective farm, there was not enough equipment, there were difficulties with seeds. Anna Zenko, yesterday an engineer at one of the leading Moscow institutes, found it quite difficult to adapt to rural life. The fact that she worked tirelessly was said in her husband’s next news: “I found out, Anya, in your letter that the reviews of the district leaders about you are good. I am very happy and proud. Your success is our success."
Many military postcards were accompanied not only by pictures, but also by Stalin's official quote: "We can and must cleanse our land of Hitler's evil spirits." People wrote in letters and postcards, bringing victory closer: “I will beat the enemy to the last strength ...”, “... I will avenge the destroyed village”, “I believe that we will get even with the Fritz”, “Mom, the Germans are running away from us, we broke their teeth "...
Envelopes were missing. Letters-triangles came from the front. They sent them for free. A triangle is an ordinary sheet from a notebook, which was first folded to the right, then left to right. The remaining strip of paper was inserted inside the triangle.
For a long time, the correspondence of close people of that time has ceased to be a personal matter. This is already history. IN historical museum The city of Roslavl has a large collection of front-line letters. Nikolai Ievlev wrote his letter home 3 weeks before the start of the war: “Mom, don't worry about me. Everything is fine. It is a pity that there is no one to take care of our garden. We have wonderful apple trees. In the place where our military school is located, there are very beautiful forests. You can see moose in the morning."
Leonid Golovlev could not find his family for almost two years. Only in 1943 did his relatives receive a letter from him: “I didn’t know anything about your fate, I was worried. I can't imagine how you survived the occupation. Let's hope everything goes well now. What to say about yourself? I'm at war. Alive and well". Leonid went missing in 1944. Letters from Nikolai Feskin are full of fatherly love. In the rear, he left his wife Evdokia and three children. Here are a few phrases from a letter from a front-line soldier: “... I kiss you many times. I really want to see. Children - Valya, Vitya and little Mirochka - I dream about.
In 1995, Nikolai Feskin's daughter Mira Kolobneva donated her father's letters to the museum.
A person always remains a person, even in the most difficult conditions. During the war years, young people often corresponded in absentia. So, an officer of the active army sent a letter to Ekaterina Kataeva, who was unfamiliar to him, from the front. Ekaterina Karpovna said, recalling this time: “Our suitors were killed in the war. My boyfriend died near Stalingrad. And then a letter came from Semyon Alekimov. At first I didn't want to answer. And I thought about how our soldiers are fighting there and waiting for letters, I decided to answer.
Life was not easy for Kate. My mother had five. Father passed away in 1936. The more young people corresponded, the stronger their feelings became. Senior Lieutenant Alekimov was on the verge of death more than once. He remembers how he miraculously survived during the bombing, when their platoon was crossing the Berezina River, as they were under fire from German aircraft. After the war, Semyon Alekimov will say: “In one day in a war, you live ten lives and ten deaths. But I always dreamed of my Katyusha.” Katya and Semyon managed to survive all the hardships, fate brought them together.
In almost every soldier's letter, one can read lines about comrades who died in battle, the desire to avenge them. Briefly, but dramatically, the words about the death of true friends sound in a letter from private Alexei Petrov: "Our tank corps left the battle, and many people died." And here is what son Ivan wrote to his father in the village: “Dad, what heavy battles are going on ... if only you knew how my comrades fight.”
Soldier Vladimir Trofimenko told his relatives in the Sumy region: “We dealt a heavy blow to the Germans near Bobruisk. I would like 1944 to be the last year of the war. Now the Germans are raising their hands in front of us, young soldiers in dusty tunics. I already see the future of peacetime, I hear the singing of girls, the laughter of children ... ”This letter, like other news from Vladimir, ended up in a local museum. Over the years, the paper has become quite transparent. But the words of the author are clearly visible. There are crossed out lines in the letter. This censorship has tried. Everywhere notes: "checked by military censorship."
Back in August 1941, in the newspaper Pravda, in an editorial, it was written that it was very important that letters find their addressee at the front. And further: “Each letter, parcel .... pour strength into the fighters, inspire new feats. It is no secret that the Germans destroyed communication centers, destroyed telephone lines. A system of military field mail was created in the country under the command of Central Administration field communication.
Only in the first war year, the State Defense Committee made several decisions that concerned the promotion of correspondence between the front and the rear. In particular, it was forbidden to use postal transport for household work. Mail cars "cling" to all trains, even to military echelons.
The service of military postmen was not easy. IN staffing The position of the postman was referred to as the forwarder. The postman Alexander Glukhov reached Berlin. Every day he went around all the units of his regiment, collected letters written by the soldiers, delivered them to the field post office. I had to go to battle more than once. In his huge bag there was always room for postcards, paper and pencils for those who did not have time to stock up on these necessary supplies.
Alexander Glukhov later recalled that he knew the names of many fighters. However, after almost every battle there were losses of personnel. Already at the headquarters of the regiment, on letters that did not reach the addressees, he marked "dropped out of the unit." The front-line soldiers themselves called such letters “non-handed”.
It was not easier to work as a postman and in the rear. Valentina Merkulova was “identified” as a postman when she was in the 4th grade. Before lunch, she studied at school, and after classes she was engaged in posting letters. From the village of Bulgakovsky, in the Oryol region, where she lived with her sick mother, this girl went with letters to nearby villages every day, in any weather. Later Valentine, remembering war time, shared her impressions with readers of the local newspaper: “I didn’t have warm clothes, but my mother got a jersey and rubber galoshes from one of the neighbors. So I went."
Even then, young Valentina had to face both grief and joy. Some letters were read by people to the whole village or village. Everyone was interested in news from the front. But there were also many funerals. Their family was not spared either. Valentina's mother lost two brothers in the war. Valin's father died later, when he came back from the front.
Heroes of the Great Patriotic War,
fallen on the battlefields
dedicated...
The nerves have become thinner ...
She only walked two blocks...
Girl 14 years old
Carry tired
with a funeral envelope.
There is no worse, no worse news;
And this cry is unbearable to listen to:
“Why did the Lord give me children?! -
mother will cry. - Petenka! Petrusha!
No worse, no worse news
It seems to her an unbearable burden:
“Well, how can I raise three children?! -
wife will cry. - My Alyoshenka! Alyosha!!!"
When Raisa handed triangles,
The whole street sang and danced!
And, having received greetings from the front line,
Mother wipes away a tear:
“My son! Alive!"
…
From the sleeve luminous flux,
Where in kerosene is a twist of cotton wool.
Fiery smoky wick
Casts shadows on the ceiling
Headquarters dugout in three rolls.
While the calm and while
A drop of light shines in the darkness
Do not sleep, soldier, by the fire,
And lay it out from afar
Words of love, words of hello...
Let a notebook without margins
Confession slides obliquely
Into the depths of dear dear fields
Under the sails of poplars,
Not waiting for your bow.
You say hello with a pen
Screwed to the splinter with a thread,
With a native home over the hill,
With rows of apple trees outside the yard,
With a hospitable gate.
While the calm and while
The wick breathes slightly incense,
Be born behind the line line:
You are alive! About that for sure
Nobody else will write.
The world was created for goodness and light:
That's why it's about
As long as it's within our power to
living
save for the living!
White flocks of letters
They flew to Rus'.
Read them with excitement
They knew them by heart.
These letters are still
Do not lose, do not burn,
Like a great shrine
Sons are protected.
On the eve of Victory Day, people were expecting letters with a special feeling.
Armenian Eduard Simonyan fought in a tank brigade, which was part of the Stalingrad Corps. In 1944, only 7 people remained in their brigade. He was wounded more than once and was in hospitals. At the end of the war, his mother received a notice of the death of her son. And suddenly, unexpectedly for her, a letter arrived, a treasured triangle in which Eduard wrote: “Dear mother, I was wounded in Latvia. I'm in the hospital. The wound on my left leg is slowly healing. Soon we will defeat the Germans, then we will live happily and happily.
And these are lines from a letter from Mikhail Martov on May 9, 1945, addressed to his wife: “Dear Tamara! Didn't sleep all night. Fired from all types of weapons. Here it is, victory! What has been dreamed of all these years has come true... We are now in East Prussia. It's beautiful here, it's spring."
Artilleryman Nikolai Evseev told his relatives in the village of Novocherkasskoye: “On May 9, together with my colleagues, I was returning from Vienna, but the car broke down on the way. Everyone got out of it. We hear, somewhere up shoot. The track went across the sky, then the second one ... That's when it became clear to everyone - this is the end of the war!
Today, almost every family has a box containing front-line letters, photographs and military awards. Every family has its own story. But one thing unites everyone - a common involvement in the tragic events of the Second World War. Until now, letters from the front, burnt, torn, half-decayed, touch us to the core.
Over the years, the lessons of that war are not forgotten - bitter and victorious. And every time on May 9, the words “The feat of the people is immortal” somehow solemnly sound.
There are special exhibits in the Museum of the History of VolgGTU. They are stored under glass, and not everyone manages to hold them in their hands. Behind each of them is the fate of a person, a defender, a warrior. What did yesterday's students think about, what did they dream about, what did they feel?.. All experiences and hopes are in small front-line triangles addressed to relatives. Here are some of the letters of Sergei Smirnov, a student at the Stalingrad Mechanical Institute, as VolgGTU was then called.
The time is 6 pm. Hello dear parents, brother Sasha, sisters Tamara, Vera, Valya, Claudia and all the rest. We drove up to Oblivskaya station. There were no incidents along the way. All are alive and well. We feel good. There are very beautiful places along the way (spruce and pine forests, etc.). The weather is good and warm. Bye see you. I kiss you all hard. Goodbye.
November 1941
The village of Solodchi, Stalingrad region. Hello dear parents, Tom, Sasha, Vera, Valentina, Claudia, Nikolai, Kolya, Lyusenka, Lyuba, Yura. Greetings and all other friends and comrades.
I am in the village of Solodchi. Was in Ilovlya, or rather reached Ilovlya. I drove near Stalingrad, past it ... I didn’t take a warm hat from home in vain, because it became cold, snow fell everywhere. You have to freeze a little, well, nothing. We'll get warm clothes soon. I gave you a telegram from Ilovlya. If possible, I will talk to you by phone from some city.
Bye see you. Say hi to everyone. I'll tell you everything in detail when I get home. Kiss everyone hard... Don't worry about me. I'll be back as a hero...
3.12. 41 The village of Alexandrovka.
Hello mom, dad, Tom, Sasha, Vera and everyone else, hello to all my friends.
I must tell you that I am now in the village of Aleksandrovka. The village is located 7 km from Solodcha, where we first arrived, as I wrote to you in a previous letter. We live in a school. Very closely. They promise to build bunks.
The village is located 40 km from Ilovlya and 30 km from Lipki. It got cold (-22). It’s very bad that the boots are very small, but I’m thinking of replacing them somehow ...
Now I can receive letters from you too... So write letters to: p. Alexandrovka, Solodchinsky district, Stalingrad region. General post delivery. Smirnov Sergey Ivanovich. ... In the letter, tell me if you have seen Viktor Penkin's mother. In general, in the letter tell about everything. Say hi to everyone. Tell the address to Sasha and someone else so they can write letters to me. Bye see you. I kiss everyone hard. Please write an answer soon.
April 1942
Hello dear parents. Hello brother and sisters. I congratulate you (albeit late) on the approaching May 1st. I wish you the best success in your life. I am writing this letter to you from a dense forest. We now have a real spring here, with all its charms, instilling in the minds of everyone a quick defeat of the German hordes. I inform you that I am alive and well, exactly the same as you saw me off ... For almost a month now, I have not received a single letter from my home ... A year is approaching from the moment of the treacherous attack of Germany on our land, like the Nazi army bleeds on the Russian front ... and the day will come, like all they started ... (ed. hereinafter the text has not been preserved). Life will come again, millions of people will return to their relatives and loved ones ... I will return home, and definitely with Viktor, we will remember the old days: a harsh winter, a hot summer, a cool spring, difficult moments, difficult experiences and, finally, remember the final victory. ..
Victor sends his regards to all of you and congratulates you on May 1st. Yes, I almost forgot. From us to Stalingrad in the school where I used to study, 3 people left, one of whom Tamara probably knows: Mikhail Zolotarev, a former student of the pedagogical institute. If you are interested, you can learn something from him too... Goodbye for now. I kiss you all hard.
In response to your inquiry regarding my brother Sergei Ivanovich Smirnov, I inform you that he really was in our unit and since June 23, 1942, he has been listed as missing in combat operations in the Leningrad Region.
Yours faithfully, Deputy the commander of the unit 51853 "s" for the political part, Major Romanov.
Hello dear!
I am writing in haste.
You know, of course, about the ongoing military operations.
Our unit also set out on the very first day at the border.
And now we are beating nemchur, as much dust is coming. They knocked them out of the border and do not let them into our Earth. I am in command of a fire battery with one junior lieutenant.
In general, I get a baptism of fire and a rich practice.
Don't worry about me. War is war, and I am not alone.
The mood of the world. However, I have not yet seen a single gap.
I can’t even believe that I’m at the front, as if we were at live firing at the school.
Excellent provided. We are 13 km from the enemy. I only saw planes and heard the bombing of Chernivtsi. While all. More peace. Be sure that we will drive the German in the right way. Hi all.
I don't know my address yet. I know, I'll write.
Regards, Boris. 25.6.1941
Write to address:
Chernivtsi PO Box 20/9
Lt Kobets
Hello dear!
I try to write to you whenever possible.
But it doesn’t matter with the mail, I don’t answer for this anymore.
I'm alive and well, I don't want the best for myself. I feel great.
How do you live? I know how you worry about me, but I can’t improve the situation in any way, you understand that too.
We are now approaching the destination, where we will stand in reserve.
I am writing on the road, now we will go to the city of Tulchin, maybe I will leave this letter there.
I don't have my address yet. As soon as they give it, I will write to you.
I could write a lot, tell even more, but you yourself understand that you can’t write much on the go, and you can see it in handwriting.
Well, for now, all the best. I have already written four letters to you. I don't know if you get them.
I think at least one will do.
Hello everyone! Kiss!
Boris 20.7.1941
Hello Nura!
I hasten to inform you that I have received your letter, and while answering it, I think what word to find in order to express my deep gratitude to you from the bottom of my heart for it.
My life goes on as usual with the desire to take revenge on the Germans for my beloved brother and for the people.
Just the other day, I accidentally met Zaripov, who lived and worked all the time with us in Bondyug, knows well all my brothers and also people in Bondyug. Oh, what a joy it was for me, because I have long been looking for where to see at least one countryman. He told me that Samosvatova was also serving with him, I forgot her name - a girl whom I don’t know anything about as a person, but her surname is very familiar to me. And when I saw him, I felt that I had been at home, talking with my countryman.
It will soon be three years since I've been away from Bondyug, and during these three years a lot of water has flown under the bridge in our beloved Kama River. And what changes have taken place - very, very big changes, and there are a lot of them. Yes, and we have changed a lot in connection with changes in the country. Now we can say that we have learned to live in any environment, you cannot imagine the environment and conditions in which you sometimes find yourself, and nothing - as if it were necessary. You never feel tired at the moment.
Nyura, please write more often, for me it will be a great happiness.
Everything, Nura. Best regards, Misha.
August 5, 1943.
January 2, 1946.
Letter from the city of Kyshtym.
Hello dear parents, mother, sister Zina and daughter-in-law Nina and my godchild Gena. Mom, I wish you a Happy New Year. Mom, I inform you that I have already received three letters, I received two letters at once, when they were written on December 15 and December 25. Mom, I was very happy because I did not receive 7 months.
Mom, I found out what is done at home and what Nina Vasishna does. Mom, you ask. what to call no Genes. Mom, I advise you, if Nina thinks about you and does not take Gena, then do not leave him, somehow feed with Zina. Here I come home for good. I will feed myself. Yes, we are so unhappy: the brother died and the father died. Since we are so unhappy, we will have to take this Gena. Mom, I tell you about my life, well, mom is still alive and well, and I wish you the same. Mom, I'm in the commandant's platoon. Mom, while I live nothing, but what will happen next ...
Mom, I asked ... (further illegible) and you were reluctant to write and so forgot. And so mom that's okay, somehow send money, the money is very needed.
Mom, congratulations to sister Zina for Good work on the farm. Mom say hello to Ivan G., Nikolai Korekov, Uncle Sanya ... (further illegible). Mom ... (further illegible) write where Zina goes. Mom, somehow get the address of Misha Konev ... (further illegible).
For now, goodbye. Your son Vitya. Mom, I wish you all the best in your life. I'm waiting for an answer.
Red Army Victor.
3.I.1946
To the children of Kindergarten N 1,
st.Kazan, Kazan railway
24.8.41 years
From the commander of the mortar company, who is being treated in the forest hospital in Kazan, Kurnosov V.I.
Hello guys and your teachers of kindergarten N 1! I convey to you all my militant commander's greetings and wish you the very best. best wishes in blooming life, like a bright sun.
I am writing my text of the letter with a break, the answer to your letter.
The sun rises bright
And the trumpet is blowing,
Our army is coming out
With a red banner forward.
Guys, I received your letter on August 24, 1941 through your teachers, for which I thank you. I wish you the happiest success. Grow up, frolic, do physical education, listen to what your elders tell you, and when you grow up big, then we will sing together:
Friendly comrades in step,
sharpen bayonets,
We all go to help
Let's move the red shelves.
Guys, I took part in the battles against the brutalized fascist many times. We fought for our Motherland, for the working people, for mothers, children and for all our brothers, for our beloved father Comrade Stalin.
Beat the fascist crocodiles -"
"God and mercy" gentlemen!
With us Stalin, Voroshilov,
All honest people are with us.
The days of struggle were not sweet,
You don't have to hide.
And my story, guys.
I will continue to continue.
Now to live is one consolation,
Everything is left behind...
And for that, here's the reward
Red order on the chest.
I honestly deserve it
I'm proud of them without boasting
What's next is unknown
Maybe I'll be nice again.
What can we run without looking back,
This cannot be said.
That's it, my boys
What I wanted to tell you.
Guys, if you write everything in your letter, of course, you can’t describe it, since there are a lot of things. And when I recover, I will take all measures, come to you and tell you everything I know about how we beat the Nazis.
Now my health is good, I feel good. Soon I will go to my commander's service and will again beat the Nazis with renewed vigor.
Well, guys, I wish you happy success in your children's cheerful life. Be calm, grow big, the enemy will be defeated, and victory will be ours.
Commander of the Red Army Lt Kurnosoe V.I.
Hello my dear Mom, Sveta and Oksana.
Thank you very much for your letters and postcards. My health is good. The service is running fine. Now I'm in this moment I am at a military post, there is nothing to do and I decided to write you a letter. But our platoon is currently renovating the houses. Today I covered up all the holes and cracks in the house, one of these days we will whitewash the walls, but as soon as the company commander gets lime, we will immediately whitewash. Here you will not only become a builder, and a plasterer, and a repairman, almost all professions have been reworked. Today we had the dispatch of sergeants home. A TU-154 plane just flew by - they must have flown home. Now the IL bomber has flown by. I send you our money, with which we buy everything and receive a salary - 9 rubles. 20k. And they are called here not money, as we have, but checks. I ask you to save these 5 checks, I will come home and I will remember Afghanistan.
This concludes my letter, write what's new and how the guys are doing. Say hello to everyone, kiss Sasha.
05/16/84
Loading...