Literary and library hour "pioneers - heroes" methodical development on the topic. Pioneers - Heroes of the Great Patriotic War (20 photos) A short story about the pioneer hero

Seventeen-year-old Nika knows for sure that the acclaimed anime film about the war and the pioneer heroes "First Squad" is a ciphered message. Will she be able to unravel the secrets of the occult departments of the Nazi and Soviet secret services? In the course of a dizzying investigation, Nike is forced to take on a dangerous mission: to save the Earth from the Third World War and prevent a catastrophe in the World of the Dead. The events of the film and manga "First Squad" take on terrible and subtle meanings ...

Lenya Golikov Korolkov Mikhailovich

Marat Kazei Vyacheslav Morozov

Pioneers-heroes - Soviet pioneers who accomplished feats in the years of the formation of Soviet power, collectivization, the Great Patriotic War. The official list of "pioneer-heroes" was issued in 1954 with the compilation of the Book of Honor of the All-Union Pioneer Organization. V. I. Lenin. Artistic documentary story. Artist V. Yudin. http://ruslit.traumlibrary.net

Valya Kotik Huseyn Najafov

Borya Tsarikov Albert Likhanov

Tolya Shumov Sofia Urlanis

Vitya Korobkov Ekaterina Suvorina

Cards of fate Natalya Kolesova

To begin with, it is worth warning about the main thing: the debut book of the Novokuznetsk writer can be called a novel only conditionally. Many authors have a "favorite size"; it seems that this is a story for Natalia Kolesova. "Maps of Destiny" is actually a collection of stories, united by a common world and linked into a single whole by the method of "while away the night with stories." Obviously, at least some of them were written at different times and in different levels skill. Therefore, those who love long stories and does not like collections, it is better not to take this book in your hands. "Cards of Destiny"...

Traveling Without a Map Graham Green

Graham Greene is the author of a rich memoir heritage, which includes his autobiographical books "Part of Life" and "Ways of Salvation", travel notes "Journey Without a Map", literary diaries "Roads of Lawlessness", "In Search of a Hero", a huge number of articles and essays "How seldom does a novelist turn to material at his fingertips!" - Grin lamented, but he himself traveled the entire planet in search of this material. Vietnam and Cuba, Mexico and the USA, Africa and Europe have found a place in his "Greenland". “I have always been drawn to those countries where the political…

Paradise cards Dmitry Veprik

If you are offered to go in search of a world more incredible than Atlantis, Utopia or the Great Ring, do not rush to refuse. Who knows, maybe you will find yourself along the way. Do not rush to agree - perhaps, having found yourself, you will realize that you have nowhere to return. This is exactly what happens to the heroes of Dmitry Veprik's novel "Maps of Paradise", who went on a risky space expedition...

Fools and Heroes Yan Valetov

Ukraine, torn apart after the disaster of the Dnieper cascade of dams, turned into a No Man's Land, a Zone where there are no laws and mercy... Arms dealers with deputy badges on their chests... Deadly fights in the mangrove swamps of Cuba... Living robots, into which the mysterious Temple turns children... Spy games on the streets of London's Covent Garden ... Heroes involuntarily, scoundrels by conviction, victims by chance - in the new book of the No Man's Land tetralogy: Fools and Heroes.

Hello land of heroes! Vlad Silin

Of the five races that inhabit the universe, only people have a special honor - to be the dominion of heroes. Asuras and pretas, divas and kinkars live according to different laws. Having got involved in a dangerous spy story, cadet Shepetov is ready to defend the honor of his race. Amazing adventures await him, deadly intrigues of asuras and secrets of alien dominions.

Hero's Detour Sergei Ivanov

The adventures of the hero Svetlana, who got from our world into the fairy-tale world, continue! This time he has to save Raul, little son King Elding Louis and his mistress, Countess Giselle de Compre, who rightfully occupies a high place in the Guild of Mages. After all, Raul was kidnapped by the terrible master of the Order of the Sword, Duke Ludwig, an old enemy of both King Louis and Svetlana. Svetlana's eternal enemy, the sorcerer Zodiar, a young witch, a vampire-aristocrat and monstrous monsters that feed on magic intervene in an already complicated game ... To perform feats here ...

100 great heroes Alexey Shishov

The book of the military historian and writer A.V. Shishova is dedicated to great heroes different countries and epochs. The chronological framework of this popular encyclopedia is from states ancient east and antiquity until the beginning of the 20th century. (The heroes of the bygone century can be devoted to a separate volume, and even more than one.) The word "hero" came into our worldview from Ancient Greece. Initially, the Hellenes called the heroes of the legendary leaders who lived on the top of Mount Olympus. Later, this word began to be called military leaders and ordinary soldiers famous in battles, campaigns and wars. Undoubtedly,…

Who took the Reichstag. Heroes by default... Nikolay Yamskoy

How did the events that led to the beginning of the Great Patriotic War actually develop? Who real heroes hoisting the banner of the Soviet Union over the Reichstag? Why and who needed to rewrite the history of the capture of the citadel of the Third Reich? Based on recently declassified archival documents and author's research, the book gives a real picture of the course of the Great Patriotic War. Special attention paid Berlin operation 1945 and the restoration of historical justice for real heroes who accomplished a great feat in ...

“For some reason, everyone thinks that the Soviet pioneers lived boringly and according to instructions, and Tatyana Kalugina, chairman of the council of the pioneer squad of Chelyabinsk sincerely laughs - no matter how it is! Everything was great and fun for us. Now there is no pioneers and Komsomol, but what in return? Nothing! Everything that is being created anew comes from the Soviet Union.”

Pavlik Morozov lives in everyone

Once, recalls Kalugina, Chelyabinsk pioneer organizations joined the all-Union campaign "The fate of the family in the fate of the country." In the 109th school, the teacher offered to write an essay on how children see the closeness of themselves and their homeland. They had to tell what enterprises their mothers and fathers work at, how plants and factories are fulfilling the plan, how they are preparing for party congresses. Ten percent of the essays described the products and goods that parents bring home from production.

“The teacher and I read and laughed,” says Kalugina. - The eighties, the OBKhSS was working in the country, an active struggle was being waged against the "non-bearers", and children, like the "Pavliki Morozovs", handed over their parents. Whatever they wrote: one’s mother drags sweets, the other’s dad sells nails from the factory for a penny, the third has both parents working at the same giant factory, because they have a house full of all the good things from there. And I sincerely admire the decision of the class teacher: she managed to turn even such essays into an educational action.

By organizing Parent meeting without children, who sincerely rejoiced that they were involved in the fate of their native country, because at home they didn’t have any “bins” of the Motherland, she read aloud excerpts from her compositions. Adult aunts and uncles turned pale and blushed, as if they were caught by the hand of the OBHSS. And the naive children later told the teacher that after the composition, there was a shortage of nails in the house, which were “heaped”, and there were no sweets, which were so many that no one ate them.

Tatyana was an activist, head of the Komsomol and pioneer organizations, and for this she was awarded part of being photographed in the Kremlin. Photo: AiF / Nadezhda Uvarova

Children disappeared on Zarnitsa

The military educational game Zarnitsa, according to Kalugina, was dearly loved by the Soviet pioneers, no evidence to the contrary will ever convince her otherwise. Pioneers ran on the run, asked for time off from their parents, dreamed of campaigns. Once, high school students, tomorrow's Komsomol members, were taken to Zarnitsa, two hundred kilometers from Chelyabinsk. From the bus to the forest it was necessary to walk two or three kilometers. Not just walk, but carry all the equipment - duffel bags, food, clothes. When the detachment almost reached the place, they transmitted on the radio: five pioneers lagged behind the column and, having crossed the country road, wandered to the airfield.

“But we didn’t even miss them,” Tatyana admits. “Before, there was no such horror as it is now, no one has ever stolen children. A child got lost - he just went to a friend after school and started playing. But to lose children on Zarnitsa was an emergency.”

Two girls and three boys, who did not even have time to get scared, were returned to the detachment. "Zarnitsa" went off with a bang, and the embarrassment was hushed up.

Tatyana among her pupils in the pioneer camp. Photo: AiF / Nadezhda Uvarova

Political information on the lawn

“On the eve of the May holidays, political information in the country was speeded up and lengthened,” Tatiana looks at a photograph where she, a young dark-haired beauty, is surrounded by pioneers listening to her with their mouths open. - Somehow, as part of such an action, I had to talk about the political situation in the world in the local Gorzelenstroy. I have my own task, and they have a self-supporting organization. May, landing, sea work. I go there, and they say to me: dear girl, we have no time to listen to you, we have every flower in the price, if we don’t grow, we won’t sow. If we don't sell, we don't get anything. Oil painting: women in working clothes, bent over in three deaths, work in the flower beds, sort out something with gloves, sort seedlings, and I walk between them and talk about China and the USA.

Suddenly, Tatyana herself was tired of telling her peers about problems that they were not at all interested in. The conversation went in a “female” direction: who has how many children, what camps they go to in the summer, where to get uniforms for the next academic year. The workers threw down their gloves and choppers, surrounded Kalugina and began to consult with her, as with a "boss".

“And then their Komsomol secretary comes out,” Tatyana Grigoryevna laughs. - He sees that no one is working, when he screams: who are you, what is going on here? Well, everyone is marching to their places, the flowers are not waiting, the buyers will soon reach for the seedlings. And I say, we have political information, cool it down. He never believed that politics can be interesting to talk about.”

Tatyana Kalugina has been keeping her pioneer book since 1960. Photo: AiF / Nadezhda Uvarova

Free ice cream and difficult teens

Not without pride, Tatyana Kalugina shows her pioneer ticket. He says that upon admission to the organization, each applicant was given one of these - of course, after a series of tests. For example, it was necessary to know the pioneer's oath by heart, reach a certain age and be in time in all subjects.

“There were no templates and instructions,” recalls the doctor of pedagogical sciences. And those that were, they are beautiful. For example, according to tradition, on Pioneer Day, all schoolchildren in Chelyabinsk were given free ice cream. The fact is wonderful - few people remember him, but it was. Of course, not a hundred pieces in hand. And one at a time, but nothing prevented the pioneer, straightening his tie and pinning a badge on his lapel, bypassing two or three kiosks. Nobody abused, ate two or three ice creams - and home. There was no "grabbing", the children did not gain for the future. Because there was some kind of upbringing and understanding of good and bad.

There have always been difficult teenagers, Tatyana is sure that they are no more difficult than the rest. These are the most active children who were bored. And these pioneers, according to the chairman of the council of the squad, on the contrary, they tried to "bring to mind." Almost all difficult teenagers later ended up in Afghanistan. And all who returned, returned as a hero.

“Yes, they are from campaigns and summer camps already easy to return, - Tatyana Grigorievna fondly remembers those who caused problems with their behavior and excessive activity. “They had nowhere to put their energy, and we directed it in the right direction. So many useful things were shoveled in the forests. They were obeyed and respected, the children saw their need - and simply could not let us or themselves down.

Hornist, 1979. Photo: www.russianlook.com

AiF.ru correspondents also decided to recall stories from their pioneer childhood:

Inna Kireeva, Moscow: “I was expelled from the Pioneers for not wearing a tie”

Twice a year, in spring and autumn, we had a scrap metal collection day. At school, whole competitions were organized between classes: who will bring more iron trash to the school yard. We prepared for these days in advance: we gathered as a pioneer star (a group of 10 people each) and laid our own routes, mainly in the private sector of the city. Particular attention was paid to the development of their uniform: for the pioneer tie, which was mandatory, it was necessary to come up with the emblem of their pioneer star. For us it was either a car, or some kind of magnet, in general, everything related to iron.

On one of the days of collecting scrap metal, I walked down the street and saw a huge piece of iron. It was building rebar, half buried in the ground. Without thinking twice, I began to dig it out with my hands. I worked for about 10 minutes. When I finally managed to dig it out of the ground, I carried a long and rather heavy rod to the school yard. My piece of iron weighed about one and a half kilograms. I was proud. Then we drove a wheelbarrow along the private streets of the city, where they threw some kind of rusty pieces of iron to us. By the way, on this day our star won. And the old rusty Cossack, who somehow miraculously brought the father of a classmate, helped us.

Pioneers, 1962 Photo: RIA Novosti / V. Malyshev

After collecting scrap metal, we all waited for our pieces of iron to be taken to the city metal depot and thus we would help the country's industry. And it was a shame to watch how a pile of scrap metal we collected lay for several months and rust in the back of the school yard.

I was accepted into the pioneers twice. The first time in January - ahead of schedule, for good academic performance, active participation in the life of the class and behavior. It was January 21, the anniversary of Lenin's grandfather's death. The day they tied my red tie I remember very well. It was at the solemn line. Three of my classmates and I took an oath to observe all the laws of the pioneers. And then they tied it around my neck - cherished. I returned home in an unbuttoned coat. The joy of joining the pioneer organization lasted two days. Then the worst thing happened for me then. The tie had to be washed and ironed every day. And I thought about him just before leaving the house. Quickly soaked, turned on the iron and forgot about the desired temperature. Very often, after ironing, a large burnt hole gaped on my pioneer tie. And of course I went to school without a tie. For which I was disgraced not only in the asterisk, but also in the entire school pioneer squad named after Tereshkova.

In the pioneers, I then did not go long. Until March. She was expelled in disgrace for scaring her classmate. He took it into his head to climb a chestnut growing next to the school. And for some reason I decided to lie to him, ran up to the tree and shouted: "Look, Dirik is coming." A classmate began to climb down from the tree and collapsed. Miraculously, he didn't die. He was taken by ambulance to the hospital with a concussion. And I was expelled from the pioneers in disgrace.

Then, however, they were pardoned, and on April 22 a brand new pioneer tie flaunted around my neck again.

Pioneers, 1965 Photo: RIA Novosti / David Sholomovich

Elfiya Garipova, Nizhny Novgorod: “We felt the world in a new way, acutely”

I was admitted to the Pioneers in 1971, the year of the centenary of the birth of Lenin, it was a terribly honorable thing. Every morning I proudly stroked my scarlet silk tie so that I could walk down the street like a beautiful pioneer.

I remember how they collected waste paper: it was fun and interesting when they found files of educational magazines “Science and Religion”, “Technology for Youth” in waste paper ruins. Once we found old postcards with touching love letters on English language. And we learned German!

They translated with the help of friends from a parallel class where they studied English. A Russian girl and an Indian guy were texting. Their love was like in a Bollywood movie! We girls were jealous.

Elfiya Garipova (in the center, between the teacher and the counselor). Photo: from personal archive

I still remember the Timurov movement: we went to the addresses where lonely old women and grandfathers lived, went to the pharmacy for them, to the grocery store, helped to clean up the apartment. It's called "take charge". My friends Sveta and Ira and I were still the bosses of the former front-line soldiers. I remember their stories about the war. They were then still relatively vigorous and not old - they were 55-65 years old. I remember the first veteran we came to, his last name was Salganik. After his story about the difficulties of wartime, how he fought at the front and lost his colleagues, I remember we went out into the street, it was May, the bright sun was shining - and the girls and I somehow felt the world in a new way, very keenly.

In general, the military-patriotic theme has always been strongly present in the pioneer movement. At our school there was a museum of the pilot Maresyev (and the school bore his name), in the office on the wall there were portraits of the pioneer heroes Marat Kazei, Zina Portnova, Valya Kotik and others. We really wanted to be like them.

Nadezhda Uvarova, Chelyabinsk: "Kicked out of the line on the occasion of Andropov's death"

I was accepted into the pioneers last in the class. I was a smart student and an excellent student, but I went to school at the age of 6, which means that when everyone was already 9 years old, and they could be accepted into the organization, I was waiting for my growing up. Finally, in 1983, on Lenin's birthday, they tied me a tie. I ran home in an unbuttoned jacket, it was a cold April day, but I wanted everyone to see: I am also a pioneer, I am worthy!

Nadezhda Uvarova (second row, far right). Photo: from personal archive

A year later, at the beginning of 1984, Secretary General Yuri Andropov died. The teacher called the whole class and ordered to come to school not at eight, but at 7:30 - there will be a solemn line. I decided to iron my tie for the first time in my life and burned it with an iron. There is nothing to do, I went in the morning without him to buy a new one in the store in the afternoon. My friend Svetka and I were not allowed to the line: I came without a tie, that is, dressed out of uniform, and she, out of habit that you have to wear full dress for celebrations, came in a sparkling white lace apron. So we sat with her for half an hour in the dressing room of the school, while the classes listened to another loss that had befallen the ranks of our CPSU party.

AT Asya Karas was two years older than us second graders. But the reason for the envy of the kids was not his “rich life experience". For three years in a row he spent his holidays not in the village with his grandmother, like we did, but in a pioneer camp. Even in the last days before school, Vasya did not take off his red pioneer tie, even playing football or cycling.

For us, he was like a man from another planet. This is necessary - in the summer he lived a life different from our childish carelessness! An interesting life full of events and adventures. We listened to his exciting stories with pleasure and seething envy. And when I learned from my father that they bought me a ticket to a pioneer camp for July, I jumped for a whole week with joy.

Finally this day has come!

The buses rolled into a picturesque forest, in the middle of which there were painted wooden houses with detachment flagpoles. In the very center of the pioneer camp there was a parade ground and a playground with free rides! Plaster sculptures, dazzlingly white in the sun, depicting scenes from the life of Soviet pioneers, protruded everywhere from the bushes.

I have never liked it anywhere else, except perhaps in Moscow, at VDNKh. Parents remained far away in a dusty city. And I immediately felt like an independent person for the first time in my life.

The most important thing is that from the stories of Vasya Karas I knew how to behave from the very first minutes. I didn’t lose my head, like other boys and girls, when they took our suitcases to the storage room, having previously pasted huge sheets of paper with the owner’s name on them, when they underwent a medical examination, when they were divided into detachments and settled in detachment tents.

Having received linen from the wardrobe lady (a terrible word!), I easily chose a sleeping place for myself. The wise and prudent Vasya Karas advised choosing one that would be both a little isolated and at the same time protected from drafts. And that meant - not near the window. I busily examined the floor and ceiling, looked under the bed, plugged the rat hole with newspaper. And the boys took me for a seasoned man.

That evening, an event occurred that, in principle, won our entire detachment to my side in general. I did not leave a few things in the storage room (of course, on the advice of the same Vasya Karas). These were: toothpaste, a flashlight and a piece of thick stearin candle. I hid the matches in advance, and the stock

their was pretty impressive. Imagine the amazement of the boys when I took out my plain little things in the evening, after lights out. Everyone huddled beside my bed at the bedside table, on which they were neatly laid out.

Guys, let's tell horror stories, - I suggested. Telling horror stories was generally my favorite pastime in our yard.

And about what? asked Zhenechka, the smallest of us. He looked like a kindergartner from the preparatory group (how did they take him to the camp?).

About terrible, terrible ... - I thought. What is the most scary tale from what I remember? Maybe about a white sheet, or about a yellow spot, or about a black car, about a yellow hand and white fangs, about a wolf's mouth or blue dead? And then he remembered the newest one, which even Vasya Karas did not know. About Podkukuevka. The guys chuckled sarcastically when they heard a somewhat unpretentious name. And I was not laughing when I remembered my nightmares from this fairy tale. And this terrible senile insinuating voice in the middle of the night: “Son, how to get to Podkukuevka?”

The plot was surprisingly simple: fishermen came to a forest lake for night fishing. They caught and caught, and then long, long arms emerged from the pool and strangled these honest and innocent people. All this nightmare was accompanied by a chilling old woman's voice - the question of the road to Podkukuevka. Like her son was killed, and she avenges him? In general, it is incomprehensible, but scary. The boys, holding their breath, listened so that the beating of their hearts was different. At the same time, the candle wriggled with a devilish flame, the tongues of which were reflected in dozens of moist, inflamed eyes. Vasya Karas recommended in similar cases to complement the effect with such a joke: smear your face with toothpaste, lie down on the table, cover yourself with a sheet, insert a candle into your arms crossed on your chest. to anyone

you need to get to the girls' room, illuminate the face from below with a flashlight and knock on their window. Insinuatingly.

So everyone settled down. With a sinking heart, they laid me on the table with a lit candle in my hands. To be honest, this moment did not give me much pleasure. Our scout Seryoga from Monastyrka (they still have this glorious tradition) sneaked up to the girls with a flashlight. A minute later there was a wild screech.

As it turned out later, they also told horror stories, shaking with horror under the covers at the very moment when they saw Gray's grandiose grin in the black window. When everything calmed down with the help of the detachment pioneer leader Vanechka, the girls entered our room with him, notified that the male team had suffered certain losses in my untimely “deceased” face.

In short, after the first day and night spent in the camp, I became a leader. As they say now, informal. Plus, I was taller than everyone else, curly-haired (this quality was considered undeniably positive for the then girls), I knew a thousand different stories and many funny games, I tried to write poetry, played football and the button accordion, could make faces, sing loudly, lead KVN team and quickly come up with answers to a million questions. So at least it seemed to me. And when they chose the commander of our pioneer detachment, they could not add a single one to my candidacy.

Everyone put on red ties before the general line of the squad, dedicated to the opening of the shift. Everything went as it should. Except for one incident.

When my native detachment lined up on the first line, everyone noticed that I was the only one without a pioneer tie. The senior counselor - a plump lady of about fifty - Klava yelled angrily in our direction through a megaphone. And, sweating from such unexpected awkwardness, Vanechka quickly tied his faded tie to me. I didn't get to say anything to him. When the flag was hoisted, I did not raise my hand in salute. Nobody really noticed. But when he comprehended everything, he burst into tears as hard as he had never cried before. ...I, a second grader, was not yet a pioneer, and this was taken for granted. How was I to know that the leader of the pioneer detachment should be a pioneer?! It turned out that I was the youngest. Younger than Zhenechka.

After the line, Ivan made a stern remark about my “strange trick”. I wanted to explain, but he was already in a hurry to the directorate to “pump” on me.

How not a pioneer?! Why not a pioneer?! - for a long time he could not understand my inconsistent story. Then they laughed out loud, and the white-toothed woman said:

Fool, it's okay, Vanechka accepted you. On the line, with the flag, even the Soviet anthem played! Don't tell anyone about this nonsense.

At first I believed. For three days he did not remember what had happened. But somehow this tie burned me and squeezed my throat.

On my parade - a boiled white, starched shirt, two scarlet sleepers appeared, carefully sewn on by Vanechka's white-toothed girlfriend. Squad leader!

Everyone set to work rehearsing skits, concert numbers for the detachment fire and for the staged song contest. But the consciousness of something wrong, hidden in me, gnawed at me at night. Or maybe everything is right? Maybe now I'm a real pioneer? Not until the end of the camp shift, but really? Is it really so easy to become a pioneer, as adults say Vanechka and white-toothed?

And rushed, and stretched for another three days. Father arrived with a full bag of cherries, strawberries, nuts, cakes and other grubs and personal belongings necessary in camp life. How happy he made me!

What an adult you are! Is my son a pioneer and a squad leader?! - he admired, lifting me above his head. - It's great that you were accepted before the deadline!

Since my father had doubts, then I had to frankly state my own. We retired with him away from human eyes in birch grove. We sat down on the emerald grass, and he, with great participation, listened to me attentively. Papa kept looking at his watch all his life, and here his face was calm and very serious. Then he affectionately stroked my head, although he had never done this before (the son should be brought up as a Spartan).

Then he advised me to act according to my conscience, as my heart tells me. Although he left me the opportunity to immediately pack my things and go south with him and my mother, away from these problems. But I considered myself an adult. You can't get away from yourself. And he made a choice for the first time in his life on his own.

In the evening of the same day, I asked the girls to come to our room for horror stories. And starting, like a real scarecrow, he suddenly suddenly turned to the topic of his torment.

Oh, and we talked a lot that evening! And about me, and about Vanechka, and about the white-toothed, and about the pioneer laws. It seemed to me that all at once retreated from me, forgot. Without waiting for the end of heated discussions, I quietly went out, slipped through a gap in the fence, broken and slippery, and ran towards the unknown darkness. The sharp thorns of the wild rose scratched painfully at my skin on my face and bare knees. I don't know myself

how he got to the old count's pond (so, anyway, it was called), sat down on the walkways overgrown with mud ... How to live on ?!

The moon rose, and I remembered my signature little thing about Podkukuevka. And then it seemed to me such a stupid invention that I still don’t tell horror stories to anyone. But I wanted to drown! Make-believe.

By midnight, Vanechka and White-toothed found me here. They came to swim by the moon. They had fun, fooled around just like little ones, for some reason they began to hug, kiss, cuddle up to each other and ... noticed me. And by the scruff, like a kitten.

Having found out about everything, the senior counselor Klava found, in her opinion, an excellent way out. On the next line, she told everyone my sad story. And hundreds of childish hands went up, voting to accept me as a pioneer at the solemn gathering of the squad.

A huge bonfire threw flames up to the very sky. They sang a song about potatoes - the ideal of the pioneers ... Then “Fly up the bonfires, blue nights!”.

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School in the partisan region.

T. Cat. , From the book "Children-Heroes",
Getting bogged down in a swampy swamp, falling and rising again, we went to our own - to the partisans. The Germans were raging in their native village.
And for a whole month the Germans bombed our camp. “The partisans have been destroyed,” they finally sent a report to their high command. But invisible hands again derailed trains, blew up weapons depots, destroyed German garrisons.
Summer was over, autumn was already trying on its motley, crimson outfit. It was hard for us to imagine September without school.
- Here are the letters I know! - eight-year-old Natasha Drozd once said and drew a round "O" on the sand with a stick and next to it - an uneven gate "P". Her friend drew some numbers. The girls played school, and neither one nor the other noticed how sadly and warmly the commander of the partisan detachment Kovalevsky was watching them. In the evening, at the council of commanders, he said:
- The children need a school ... - and added quietly: - You can’t deprive them of their childhood.
On the same night, Komsomol members Fedya Trutko and Sasha Vasilevsky went on a combat mission, with Pyotr Ilyich Ivanovsky with them. They returned a few days later. Pencils, pens, primers, problem books were taken out of pockets, from the bosom. Peace and home, great human concern wafted from these books here, among the swamps, where there was a mortal battle for life.
- It's easier to blow up the bridge than to get your books, - Pyotr Ilyich gleefully flashed his teeth and took out ... a pioneer bugle.
None of the partisans said a word about the risk they were exposed to. There could be an ambush in every house, but it never occurred to any of them to refuse the task, to return empty-handed. ,
Three classes were organized: first, second and third. School ... Stakes driven into the ground, intertwined with willows, a cleared area, instead of a board and chalk - sand and a stick, instead of desks - stumps, instead of a roof over your head - a disguise from German aircraft. In cloudy weather, mosquitoes overwhelmed us, sometimes snakes crawled in, but we paid no attention to anything.
How the children valued their school-glade, how they caught every word of the teacher! Textbooks accounted for one, two per class. In some subjects there were no books at all. Much was remembered from the words of the teacher, who sometimes came to the lesson directly from a combat mission, with a rifle in his hands, belted with cartridges.
The soldiers brought everything they could get for us from the enemy, but there was not enough paper. We carefully removed the birch bark from fallen trees and wrote on it with coals. There was no case that someone did not comply homework. Only those guys who were urgently sent to reconnaissance missed classes.
It turned out that we had only nine pioneers, the remaining twenty-eight guys had to be accepted as pioneers. From the parachute donated to the partisans, we sewed a banner, made a pioneer uniform. The partisans accepted the pioneers, the commander of the detachment himself tied the ties to the newly arrived. The headquarters of the pioneer squad was immediately elected.
Without stopping classes, we were building a new dugout school for the winter. A lot of moss was needed to insulate it. They pulled him out so that his fingers hurt, sometimes they tore off his nails, painfully cut his hands with grass, but no one complained. No one demanded excellent studies from us, but each of us made this demand on ourselves. And when the heavy news came that our beloved comrade Sasha Vasilevsky had been killed, all the pioneers of the squad took a solemn oath: to study even better.
At our request, the squad was given the name of a deceased friend. On the same night, in revenge for Sasha, the partisans blew up 14 German vehicles and derailed the train. The Germans threw 75 thousand punishers against the partisans. The blockade began again. Everyone who knew how to handle weapons went into battle. Families retreated into the depths of the marshes, and our pioneer team also retreated. Our clothes were frozen, we ate once a day brewed in hot water flour. But as we retreated, we seized all our textbooks. Classes continued at the new location. And we kept the oath given to Sasha Vasilevsky. During the spring examinations, all the pioneers answered without hesitation. Strict examiners - the commander of the detachment, the commissar, the teachers - were pleased with us.
As a reward, the best students were given the right to participate in shooting competitions. They fired from the squad leader's pistol. It was the highest honor for the guys.

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