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On June 22, 1941, my parents' wedding anniversary, I went to the Bessarabia market early in the morning to buy flowers. On the way, I was caught by the air raid alarm, which, at first, everybody thought was just another training alarm. Everyone was forced to run to the air raid shelter. Afterwards, I returned home. Nobody knew that the war had begun. Mama's brother, Nikolay, was in Kiev on a business trip, and was visiting us. When Molotov made an announcement about the war at 12 o'clock, Papa slid down to the floor very strangely, and Uncle Kolia put down his cigarette on the tablecloth. I understood then that something disastrous had happened. On this day, June 22, the opening of a new stadium with a football match was scheduled. People were walking past our house on their way to the stadium. They couldn't believe what had happened. But, of course, the game was cancelled.
This heralded a period of fear and confusion about the future. Papa wasn't as naive as others to think that the war would be over in two, three, or four weeks. When he got an opportunity to take us into evacuation, he phoned us at home and told us to take some underwear and pick up that small, packed suitcase, and get ready to leave. There were ten managers' families in our building, and I believe eight of them were Jewish. We all boarded the evacuation truck and headed to Kharkov via Poltava. This was on July 4, 1941. Papa stayed in Kiev. He refused to evacuate while headquarters was still there.
We drove to Kharkov, where we stayed with Lazar Isaakovich Korduner, my mother's cousin. He was Chief Engineer at the Kharkov tractor plant. He had worked on the plant's construction from the first day, and had bitter feelings when the plant was to be blasted. Katia, his mother, always waited up for him to return from the plant, and never went to bed until he got home. When the Germans were very close to Kharkov, Lazar received an order to blast the plant. He came home and literally fell onto Katia, crying. "Why are you crying?" she asked him. He replied, "Mama, I did something three hours ago that was almost like killing my own daughter." Later, Lazar became the Director of the Tagil tank plant and was awarded the Stalin Prize. He died in January, 1945, in Moscow, after his appointment to the position of Deputy Minister of heavy machine building.
Papa soon joined us. We went to Stalingrad, along with the family of Lazar Korduner. Papa got a job at the Stalingrad tractor plant. While we were on the train, we heard that the Germans had occupied Kiev on September 19, 1941. It seems to me that at that very moment I fully realized what a calamity this was for all of us. In Stalingrad we met Mama's relatives. They had miraculously escaped by boarding the last boat from Odessa. There were twenty-two of them, and our huge clan departed for Kirghizia. Lazar Korduner and his family went to Nizhniy Tagil. Prior to their departure, he provided us with winter clothes, coats and hats. He also arranged for our family to get on the barge sailing up the Volga. We learned there what hunger, dirt and fleas were like. People were boarding in crowds. I was squeezed by the crowd, and fainted. As I regained consciousness, I heard Polina Iosifovna shouting, "Careful! There is a child here!" Somebody felt sorry for me and took me to a cabin where sailors were staying. They gave me some hot water to drink. We reached Saratov, where we boarded a train: Uncle Kolia and his family, Uncle Arnold, Aunt Polina and us. I believe there were thirty-five of us there.
This heralded a period of fear and confusion about the future. Papa wasn't as naive as others to think that the war would be over in two, three, or four weeks. When he got an opportunity to take us into evacuation, he phoned us at home and told us to take some underwear and pick up that small, packed suitcase, and get ready to leave. There were ten managers' families in our building, and I believe eight of them were Jewish. We all boarded the evacuation truck and headed to Kharkov via Poltava. This was on July 4, 1941. Papa stayed in Kiev. He refused to evacuate while headquarters was still there.
We drove to Kharkov, where we stayed with Lazar Isaakovich Korduner, my mother's cousin. He was Chief Engineer at the Kharkov tractor plant. He had worked on the plant's construction from the first day, and had bitter feelings when the plant was to be blasted. Katia, his mother, always waited up for him to return from the plant, and never went to bed until he got home. When the Germans were very close to Kharkov, Lazar received an order to blast the plant. He came home and literally fell onto Katia, crying. "Why are you crying?" she asked him. He replied, "Mama, I did something three hours ago that was almost like killing my own daughter." Later, Lazar became the Director of the Tagil tank plant and was awarded the Stalin Prize. He died in January, 1945, in Moscow, after his appointment to the position of Deputy Minister of heavy machine building.
Papa soon joined us. We went to Stalingrad, along with the family of Lazar Korduner. Papa got a job at the Stalingrad tractor plant. While we were on the train, we heard that the Germans had occupied Kiev on September 19, 1941. It seems to me that at that very moment I fully realized what a calamity this was for all of us. In Stalingrad we met Mama's relatives. They had miraculously escaped by boarding the last boat from Odessa. There were twenty-two of them, and our huge clan departed for Kirghizia. Lazar Korduner and his family went to Nizhniy Tagil. Prior to their departure, he provided us with winter clothes, coats and hats. He also arranged for our family to get on the barge sailing up the Volga. We learned there what hunger, dirt and fleas were like. People were boarding in crowds. I was squeezed by the crowd, and fainted. As I regained consciousness, I heard Polina Iosifovna shouting, "Careful! There is a child here!" Somebody felt sorry for me and took me to a cabin where sailors were staying. They gave me some hot water to drink. We reached Saratov, where we boarded a train: Uncle Kolia and his family, Uncle Arnold, Aunt Polina and us. I believe there were thirty-five of us there.
Location
Ukraine
Interview
Larissa Khusid