The Russian Century: A Hundred Years of Russian Lives

16 June 1941. Dima [Dimitrii] is on leave. He spends all day with our daughter: bathing, dressing, and feeding her. His well-groomed, sensitive hands of a designer tenderly manage these things. His fair hair blazes red in the sun, lighting up his happy face. “You gave birth to a daughter, but can’t understand what a joy this is!” says Dima with reproach. I laugh to myself. Let him amuse himself. Lena and I know each other well. We have our own world, where we allow no one, not even Dima.

22 June 1941. Morning. Together with her multi-colored rattles I brought Lena out into the garden. The sun was busy at its work. Suddenly: cries, the sound of broken dishes. The landlady ran past the dacha. “Elena Iosifovna, it’s war with the Germans! They just broadcast it over the radio!” she exclaimed, crying. War! I am 34 years old. This is the fourth war in my lifetime.

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Elena I. Kochina, Blockade Diary

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June 1941, Midnight. How quickly everything changes! Just this morning I was admiring the sunrise, and the Germans were already bombing our airports. Belorussian airfields have been hit especially hard.

June 1941. The tornado of war storms over our land with frightening speed, scattering people along the way, like eggshells in all directions. In this commotion it isn’t possible to understand anything. The trains, stuffed with human flesh, head for Leningrad and leave equally stuffed.

June 1941. Infected with a general panic, we rushed to the city. Everything seemed ominous and alarming in the countryside. It seemed that a comforting tranquility awaited us in Leningrad.

June 1941. The Germans have penetrated the region of Dubno and Rovno. There are desperate battles. All of this isn’t sinking in.

June 1941. Hitler threw the “immorality” philosophy, reeking of human degeneration, at the Germans as if they were starved dogs. In addition they received weapons, handsome full-dress uniforms and boastful slogans. This was all the German “boys” needed: every cretin and mongrel thinks he’s a crusader, bringing renewal to a “decayed humanity.”

June 1941. Many employees of our institute have joined the people’s militia and are leaving for the front. All day today we sewed knapsacks and got them ready for the trip leading to “nowhere.”

June 1941. We come earlier than usual to the institute, but work isn’t going too well. We can’t work at our daily tasks, braiding the thin strand of rational thought which no one needs now. We all have one wish—to work for the front.

June 1941. The whole earth, from the Baltic Sea to the Carpathians, is gripped by this monstrous war!

29 June 1941. Each day the Germans swallow 30–40 kilometer chunks of our territory. Let them get indigestion from such portions.

—June 1941. Spy mania, like an infectious disease, has struck everyone without exception. Yesterday near the market, an old woman resembling a flounder wearing a rain slicker seized hold of me: “Did you see? Certainly a spy!” she cried, waving her short arm toward some man.

“What?”

“He has pants and a jacket of a different color.”

I began to laugh, despite myself.

“And a mustache, as if pasted on.” She angrily drove her eyes into mine, sitting nearby.

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Chapter Twenty-Four

“Excuse me . . .” I jerked away. Before slipping off, she trailed me along the pavement for a few steps. But even to me, many people seem suspicious, who should be under surveillance.

—June 1941. An order was issued calling all Leningraders from the ages of 16 to 50 (and women up to 45) to defend the city.

—June 1941. Today our whole laboratory dug anti-tank trenches around Leningrad. I dug with pleasure (it was something so practical) and straightened up only when I felt a sharp pain in the small of my back. Only women worked on the trenches. Their scarves blazed in the sun like so many little flames. It was as if a giant colorful flowerbed surrounded the city.

And suddenly the wings of a plane, gleaming, crossed the sky. A burst of machine-gun fire rattled past and the bullets, like small lizards, crackled and darted into the grass not far from me. Startled, I stood still, having forgotten all of the civil defense rules that I learned not so long ago.

“Run!” cried someone, grabbing me by the sleeve. I looked around. All of us diggers ran somewhere. I also ran, even though I didn’t know where to run or what to do. No one else knew either. Unexpectedly, I saw a small bridge. I ran for it. There was a deep puddle of water under the bridge. For a whole hour, we squatted in it. That day we didn’t work anymore.

June 1941. The evacuation of all institutions and of the population has begun.

June 1941. We continue to dig trenches. The airplanes no longer appear.

2July 1941. They’re evacuating the children now! Like frightened animals

they filled all the streets, moving toward the train station. This was the de

marcation line of their childhood: beyond it their life without parents began.