So war began

The thin sunbeam which got through the opening found it in a straw roof, fragrant aroma of fresh hay, diverse voices of marsh birds woke me. I recognize by the coming roar of the motor the "agriculturial aeroplane" which was quite often flying from Kobrin airfield. Morning of Sunday. The father expelled cattle on a pasture, having allowed to sleep the son who just ended six classes in Kobrin. I go down on a short flight of stairs, I leave to the yard. Promising hot day, in the blue sky the sun rose. The father for some reason fixedly peers towards Dams, Pruzhan.

- Look, the sonny, I cannot understand: around a clear sky, and there like a black cloud, as at the fire. And pogromykhivat something. On a thunder-storm not probably - from where it to be. Really war? Run to the village, find out. To Kustovich two and a half kilometers, as well as to Dams. I give to legs vent. Raznotsvetye of country strips - rye and potatoes, lyon and an odorous buckwheat. Larks sing in blue, the strange nature smells sweet...

In the center Kustovich the crowd of people blocked the street. With the stiffened attention listened to Molotov's performance from the radio receiver installed in a window of the house of the smith: today at dawn, on June 22, 1941, Germany attacked the Soviet Union on all border.

The father apprehended a message about war with pain. In World War I he was at war with Germans on the Romanian front which was ordered by the general Mannerheim.

- Run to Dams. What there on Varshavskoye Highway? - again the father sends me to investigation. I resort. In both directions the road is filled with transport. Military with fresh blood-stained by bandage get. On a roadside - the coupled antiaircraft machine guns, sound-rangers. Low "agriculturial aeroplane" flew by.

The fatherly farm - natural observation post: a sandy hill in a semicircle of a fenny bog, Kustovichi, Osovtsa, Dams, the Colony, Shemetovka, Smedyn, Podzemenye, and in serene day - trains at Gorodts are visible from here. From a pasture I see how several bombers are built in a chain, fall-dive over Dams, and black columns of the earth and dust rise to the sky. Under bare feet as if live, the earth began to tremble.

Between the farm and Dams - air fight, deadly fight. All left a hut. And here still, at a bog, directly to the farm the cavalry moves, pull guns. "How to get over through a bog?" - the senior lieutenant who dropped into the yard on a foamy kaury horse asks.

- The bog is impassable, it is necessary to be developed, - the father answers.

- You expect arrival of Germans? - asked, having taken a view.

- Russian to us the people, - the father answered, - in refugees rescued my family from hunger.

Asked waters, mother brought a milk mug. Thanked and at parting told: "We will return, wait! Let's surely return!". I ran half-versts to rowing on which the column turned. Kicking up dust, rushed a whirlwind - the open district and air fight.

- The fellow, waters, - shouted the cavalryman, having thrown me a garrison cap. One, another took from a ditch and gave to the rider in the soldier's blouse which got wet then, the rest of water poured out on the person. "Thanks, fellow!" - told and dashed away.

In sand at the major started slipping the motorcycle. I am enough behind, I raise and I push with all force - the motorcycle went and again I hear "thanks!". I look in column "tail", will not enter in Liski at turn on the Colony yet. On Varshavskoye Highway - artillery duel, firing, short and lingering machine gun fire, explosions of shells. Fight gradually ceases. Unless you will keep? On the place of an event, in armored cars only the heads of Germans in deep helmets are visible. Occasionally over columns red panels with a swastika - identification marks for aircraft. Powerful stream. I consider. Our tank burns down on a roadside, the died tankmen. The same tanks in September the 39th were met by us here in the flowers and triumph. There is a wish to cry.

Before Pruzhansky turn directly on the road one more our padded tank. In black overalls the tankman hung on the hatch of the smoking tower. On a roadside the died lieutenant in a full form, the gun handle in a holster is visible. On the place of the head - a bloody spot: on it the car passed. There was a wish to take the gun, but something constrained. A heap chervonets roll.

On Pruzhanskaya Road it is deserted. At the left there is a sandy hill. From air bombs several fresh deep funnels, at the bottom already even water gathered. I enter in cool high alder Liski and, about horror! - Red Army men, as if sheaves on the fruitful field, ten or two. Rifles with primknuty bayonets, behind shoulders holdalls, one was untied, and crackers were scattered. Any wounds, trees - instant death from a blast wave are not damaged.

None of the population. I was small growth, barefoot, nobody stopped. Then learned: on a forest edge of the left coast of Mukhavts (5 km from Dams) our defense was fixed. It was broken through for morning of the next day. On a bog - a bird's alarm. Two Germans jump from a hummock on a hummock. Up to sleeve zakasana elbows, rozhkovy automatic machines - atilt. Enter on the farm. "Stalin kaput! Moskau kaput!" - shining faces, repeat several times. And then - "a uterus! hens, yaya!, salted pork fat salted pork fat". In Dams there was a military garrison, security and retaliatory.

Towards Kobrin on the horizon some spot. Extends, rises and already the armada of planes differs. Hundred, and, perhaps, and more, fly a system as if under a ruler, one to another. Darkens from a shadow, from a terrible roar gnash, apparently, the sky will break up and will fall. Terribly!

I leave Kustovich - Germans towards. From the vehicle in the field-glass consider the vicinity. To run away late, will shoot down. I go, come what may. Overtook... Even did not touch, did not stop.

I go to the village. On the way to it, on the right, in rye two Red Army men. Boots with windings, soldier's blouses, belts pockets, facedown are removed, emptied. Still blood with gray brains - a disposable aim shot exudes. In the afternoon they saw in the village.

... Regular retaliatory raids in Kustovichi. On the Cover day, Indian summer, - at the village teachers of school shot five, including. Then one family, then - 13 more people families. Five minors will entice a posterunok on Gorodetsky, in handcuffs will bring to Kobrin prison and at dawn will shoot in the country. Nobody was given, in a chamber sang the Soviet songs. From a small village of Smedyn through a bog will spend four and will shoot at dawn on Kustovichsky farms − time did not keep a grave, it under lust.

From the first occupational day on the village posters are hanged densely out: "Ахтунг" - "attention!". For any violation of a ban one punishment − execution. Overcoming fear of death, people collected and stored the military weapon, ammunition, nursed wounded Red Army men, gave food and a shelter running from camps, leaving an environment.

The asking repeating knock in a window. Mother awakes the father. I see, takes the axe from under the head, leaves in a shade. Recognizes the. Four enter. Leather jackets. Display the card, a compass on a table, specify something with the father. In total at the weapon. Mother puts a milk krynka, still warm potato, the father - a piece of fat. To spend the night go on a mow, to a shed, guests wished to clean a ladder providently.

- To Mikhalk, - mother whispers, - already cold and damp. In a kamor to them will be warmer.

- I brought two blankets, two casings, young - will not freeze, - the father justifies himself.

- Do not take a sin on soul - remember how on Tambov region in refugees the Russian peasants saved our children from starvation. Parents lived in peace and friendship, were compliant. The lodging for the night from a cold shed was moved to a warm kamora. Mother washed them clothes, dried up on the furnace. At dawn fed guests hot, gave on the road. Saying goodbye, the senior told:

- We are staff, we have a military press, will give the certificate of the given help - at you children grow up, it is useful.

- Thanks, expensive, but in such time help without self-interest. And will find the reference - will burn the farm and us alive, - the father judged.

- We will return with a victory. We promise it to you firmly.

Having seen off, mother crossed them on the road. The father saw off to a bog and specified a footpath for transition. Dogs did not bark - closed them for the night. The western Belarusians after release from the Polish occupation in the thirty ninth less than two years lived in structure of the USSR, but remained faithful to it in the years of fascist occupation, without having kneeled before the vicious enemy.

A. Sushchuk, veteran of the Great Patriotic War

Sushchuk A. So war / A. Sushchuk//Kobrynsk_ vesn_k began. – 2001. – May 5. The beginning of the Great Patriotic War in Kobrin district. 

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