Girls in the Flames of War 1941–1945
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About this ebook
The Red Army was defeated in the first 3.5 months of the war. Since the fall of 1941, the militias actually fought, including young women and girls.
Gennady Kuznetsov
I am a historian who made a speciality of France, but write about Russia. I am engaged in the things which seem to me curious and, perhaps, can become interesting to somebody else.The book “Russian stories” deals with the peculiarities of Russian set of mind. This is a collection of letters and diaries of ordinary citizens. The work covers the period from 1917 to 2000 and, to some extent, represents a research. So, here is clearly revealed a trait common to the Russians (no other nation): Russian people are unharmonious.Strictly speaking, this is the only new thing that I have managed to do in science called "history".Other books: “Russians in the past war 1941 - 1945”, “Girls in the flames of war 1941 – 1945”, “Black iceberg” (The Jewish factor in the Russian revolution), “Photos from the USSR” (50 amateur photos).
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Girls in the Flames of War 1941–1945 - Gennady Kuznetsov
Girls in the Flames of War
1941–1945
By Gennady Kuznetsov
Published by:
Gennady Kuznetsov at Smashwords
© 2021 by Gennady Kuznetsov
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Table of contents
Introduction
Main part
Natasha Malysheva, a reconnaissance woman. Her war began in the divisional reconnaissance in Volokolamsk direction (near Moscow).
Lida Tochilkina, a doctor of the 738th rifle regiment.
Masha Kleymenova, a sniper, naval infantry.
Nadya Popova, an airwoman. Regiment of light night bombers.
Nina Vishnevskaya, a medical instructor in the tank battalion.
Olya Bovina, a medical instructor in the rifle battalion.
Valya Chudakova, a medical instructor, later a machine-gun platoon commander, a machine-gun company commander.
Albina Gantimurova, a commander of the reconnaissance platoon, naval infantry.
Anya Zelyanina, a medical instructor of a sabotage unit.
Nina Bondar, a Т-34 tank commander. An airwoman who has become a tank woman.
Tamara Chumakova, a mine woman.
Bella Zukerman, a machine-gun platoon commander, later the head of the medical sanitary battalion headquarters, the interpreter of the division headquarters.
Taisiya Nikolaevna. The story told by Nastya Pirogova, her granddaughter.
Sources
Introduction
Russian girls at war are a unique phenomenon. During the years of the Great Patriotic War (1941–1945) the Red Army and the fleet were joined by almost 800,000 female service members either voluntarily or under mobilization. This is an official figure, but there is another data: more than 1 million.
Girls were sent not only to auxiliary forces. Many of them served in battle units as snipers, machine-gunners, signal operators, reconnaissance women and medical instructors. Almost all air defense units of the Red Army were complete with girls and young unmarried women in the age from 18 to 24. There were 3 women’s aviation regiments.
It was even planned to open women’s rifle divisions, where men were only to load heavy artillery guns. There was formed the first separate women’s voluntary rifle brigade of 7 thousand people, consisting of 7 battalions with a thousand of combat soldiers in each. Mostly these were girls in the age of 19-20. The brigade did not take part in battle actions, in the summer of 1944 it was disbanded, and the complement was transferred to other units and subdivisions.
Training for military service was implemented at a quickened pace. Sometimes very quickly. As remembered by Maria Pimenovna Vasilyeva, a mine woman: For three days we have been learnt how to sweep mines, and then–a mine field. We thought we were grownups, but lost courage and stood at its edge crying.
How many girls were there, who crossed the fighting line? It is impossible to say. The data are fragmentary and can not be compared.
How many have died? There are no data about this, as they were not taken as a separate group when counting the gross loss.
Photo on the cover: field hospital, not later than 1942.
Main part
Natasha Malysheva, a reconnaissance woman, Lieutenant. Reconnaissance of the 3rd communist division, since the autumn of 1942–reconnaissance of the 16th army.
When in 1921 my mother has been pregnant with her second child, the time was difficult, military, not for children. As a spiritual she could not think of an abortion, and she started to pray for the God to have a boy. Perhaps, due to the fact that I was very small and thin–my elder sister Olga was born in wealthy time and looked strong and pudgy, my mother adored her, calling her a beauty, her beloved, while telling me the stories of an unwanted, useless and ugly girl.
When I understood that there is no place for me in my mother’s heart I decided: it does not matter that Olga is beautiful and beloved and is talented in art! I am also gifted! And I was learning poems by heart after my sister; I have learnt to read in the early age and was so involved that in the first forms at school I had nothing to do.
I was indifferent to toys and sweets, I was simple in food and it was not difficult for me to keep orthodox fasts: bread with egg-plant paste was normal for me. I began to think what to do. As it was easy for me at school, I enrolled to every possible section and was a success everywhere–gymnastics, horse riding, skiing, swimming…
I was shooting very well and deserved a rank of a Voroshilov Sharpshooter
. I also jumped with parachute… And I did it so smartly, so I became desperately fearless.
That was the time of my first, and as it turned out later, the only love. Misha Babushkin, the son of a famous pilot, the Hero of the Soviet Union, was a real dream of every girl: handsome, unbelievably charming, he quickly got acquainted with all first-year students.
A lot of girls were soft about him, but who knows why he started to appear next to me. First I was rude to him. I said, Find someone more stupid.
But Misha answered, But why?
And I broke down, Because I am ugly.
My mother always told me, Your sister is beautiful, but you are smart.
He brought me to the mirror and said, Don’t you have eyes? Don’t you see your beauty?
I burst out crying. He was the first to let me feel my beauty. It was the first time I believed. On the next day my friends started to say, You have changed somehow, Natasha, you have become so pretty.
As if in a moment I put off a frog’s skin after his words.
We had very high and beautiful relations. It is an unspeakable feeling, when you wait for the morning to see each other again.
I have started the third year at Moscow aviation institute when the war began. Misha, who has already been known as a good pilot, went to the front in the very first days.
I was very afraid that the war will end soon and I will not have time to fight. I had experience: at the beginning of the Finnish campaign I tried to enter the army showing nurse certificates at the Military Commissariat (military recruiting center). But I was said: we will do without you, go and study. With the beginning of the Great Patriotic War I was trying to transfer to military academies with my friends. But only one of us succeeded, and only because his father was the commander of the Red Army. I was not taken because I was a girl.
In October Germans were very close to Moscow. There was confusion in the city. Trams were moving by inertia without conductors, only with tram drivers, all passengers unwillingly have become hares
(passengers without tickets). In the shops food cards were taken per month: products were given to the citizens, so that the enemies, if they enter the city, did not have anything.
From the loud-speaker I heard that the Moscow party committee asks all patriots, who can defend their native city, come to the points of the people’s volunteer army. I have met my school friend who has already become a military man and he advised me to enter the 3rd communist division. At the Komsomol district committee I took the assignment and went to the military recruiting center. It was evening, and to my mother’s question Are you on duty?
I have assured her of going to the hospital.
The commander, having looked at my medical nurse certificate, said that they had enough nurses and asked if I wanted to enter the secret service. At me even the heart leaped: I could not even dream of this! This is romanticism, here are real difficulties! The military recruiting center was in the building of a school and the commander immediately led me along a corridor to one of the classrooms. On the floor there were mattresses with several girls in soldier’s blouses on them.
Meet your new friend,
said the commander, and I introduced myself, Natasha.
Since now they are your family,
continued the commander, and remember the law of reconnaissance: at any circumstances, never leave your friend, even a dead one, for not to be abused by the enemy. You die, but save your friend!
If he only knew that it was fertile ground for his words!
I have found under whose patronage I was. Nikolay Mikhaylovich Berendeev even during the Finnish war accomplished a feat and was awarded the Title of Hero of the Soviet Union.
Risking his life, having neither plans nor transcripts, he cleared a big mine field for our tanks to pass. At a rough guess he hid behind a big tree and shot one of the mines sticking out of the ground, and detonating they started to explode one by one, and only God knew if there was a fatal treasure under the brave-heart’s feet.
He survived by accident, but got severe wounds and left the army at the rank of a lieutenant. However, when Hitler’s forces approached Moscow he came to the military recruiting center demanding his right to defend the capital.
Having met this hero I started my military life.
In the morning I put off my civil clothes and put on a huge soldier’s blouse and peg leg trousers, which were right to my armpits. I was given a hat and something like a pea-jacket of khaki color, which was also too big for me.
Our army was not ready to accept so many volunteers. And what volunteers! These were people in the age from 16 to 60, pupils and professors, white-haired academicians–non-recruiting people, volunteers answering the call of the heart.
There were no clothes for them. Due to the fact that the headquarters of our division was on the territory of the Moscow film studio, they were given the clothes, intended for the actors in military scenes. I got a costume of a red army soldier in the times of the Civil War. Only in winter we were given normal uniform, warm quilted trousers. Until then I was proud of what I had, and being dressed in the theatricals I was sent home to sew a haversack, and be given a mug and a spoon.
My mother went mad when she saw me wearing red army uniform, but she immediately understood everything and began to cry. Till the last moment she did not believe than my speeches about front are serious. I wanted her so much to cry about me, even once, but not about my sister!
But I got confused… and understood that I did not want this; that my mother should not cry. I thought frightenedly and tenderly–but said it differently: shortly, if not rudely: purporting that I have warned about going to the front, and it will be easier for them during the starving time without another mouth…and that was not the time to cry, but to sew me a sack.
Thus started my new life. I got up at six in the morning. Hurried outside, exercised in a light soldier’s blouse in the autumn cold, washed, had breakfast and studied my new profession of a reconnaissance woman: how to creep noiselessly and invisibly, how to hide, watch and keep the weapon. I trained from early morning till ten in the evening with short breaks for dinner and cleanup.
This was the first time to test friendship. There were not enough pots and we were given one for four. At home we never ate from one plate, all the more, eat up one after another. But I had to eat with unknown girls from one pot… They know each other, but I am a stranger. If I show them that I strain, they will reject me, and will never be of the same kind! I had to master my will and overcome, but the first spoons stuck in my throat literally.
With time I have managed to cope with this difficulty, but there was another one: public convenience. Soon I had to ski for long distances accompanied only by men. For them this was not a problem, but I had to go into a forest, slow down, but the boys immediately noticed that and also slowed down, Do not hurry, Natasha is tired.
They were so slow-witted, but I was shy