Evdokia Zaharovna

Velikie Luki

It's the 12th October, 6.10, and we are at the home of Evdokia Zaharovna

What shall I start with?

Tell us about your family, your parents and grandparents

I was born in a village. My parents – father was in the army. He was a communist in 1917. ?here.

What was his name?

Zahar Dmitrievich. I was brought up with my grandmother and grandfather. There was my great grandmother too, she was over 100. A very large family. My father worked all the time.

Where did he work?

He was at the front, then he became a communist, there at the front. He was awarded a silver cross for the first Civil War. He got a medal. Then I lived in the village, till about the 4th class. I lived there all the time.

Which region?

Ryazan, Barsuka village. I went to school in the first class. Our village was very small and the school was 20 kilometres away. There were 30 houses and very few children. There was a landowner – he lived separately. We lived in a wooden house, and the teacher was cruel, very cruel. One little boy hadn't done his homework and she hit him on the head with a ruler. Hit him so that the blood flowed. That's what she was like. I studied there for 7 years, and then the revolution ended – there was a revolution, you know. I remember it well, we used to go around at school, as little girls: 'Down with the Tsar! Down with the Tsar!' Everyone did that.

Which year did you start school?

What? In the eighth class.

When you were eight?

Yes, 8 years old. I went to school... I passed my exams, and then I left school. We used to be very active as komsomol members, we did lots of sport. And we did dancing. They knocked the church down, smashed it... We did lots of sport... lots of sport... and of course, young people used to organise meetings. Then my father was transferred to ... to that town – it's called Spas now. So I went to school till the 8th class, finished school, and went straight off to college in Ryazan, to the teacher training college. I wanted to go to medical college, but father wouldn't let me. But at medical college I was also in the komsomol, I was one of the ones in charge. And then the theatre – I had a good voice, I sang well, I even did things there.

Performances?

Group performances. But then when I finished college, I was sent off – they sent me off – or rather, I didn't finish college. I was in the 4th year and then [the war?] started. There weren't enough teachers, and there was great demand. I didn't finish college, but there were 4 komsomol members from the college and on the 30th January they released us from studies and sent us off to different villages.

Which year was that?

I don't remember... they sent me off and others to other villages. But I got a good one. There were workers there and a sovhoz (state farm). In the day time I worked at school, and in the evenings I worked with illiterate people. I had a difficult group, and I should have had a second one as well. We all had to have 2 groups because we had to finish our studies – we hadn't finished.

Three teachers left before I got there, and I was the only one to arrive. To start with they would fight, fight with each other, and I would sit there, silently. Then I say to them – 'OK lads, that's it, that's enough fighting'. They were silent, they didn't say anything. 'Ah well... alright, I understand: you don't want to study, don't want to learn. That's fine, so I'm off now lads, good bye, I'm off'. They say – 'No, no, don't think that – we won't fight any more'. 'Well', I say, 'don't just give me your word for it, give me your word as pioneers'. So they gave me their word as pioneers, and then I started to work with them seriously. In the breaks they did a lot of sport, and they changed completely. Became quite different lads.

You taught grammar and sport?

We did sport at the weekends, and in breaks. I would let them out for break, they took a rest, and I did some sport with them – we really liked that. And you know what – they used to do pyramids. Lots of that. So I worked for a year there, then they called me up and asked me to work as an inspector.

Yes – that was good. They sent me to Moscow, and I studied for another month there. But when I worked in the villages, that was really awful. Collectivisation. I was a komsomol member and they sent me all over the place. Once they arrived and told me to go and get my things ready. It was evening already and I asked them 'Where to?'. They said 'You're coming with us', and I said 'I'm not going anywhere at all. I need to go to work tomorrow'. 'Yes you are – go and get your things'. So we drove and drove, and all along the road they were shooting at us.

Then afterwards I worked a lot in the organisation of the kolkhoz. That's what it was like. Then they always made sure I sat away from the window.

What – because of the shooting?

Yes – so that I stayed alive. Well – there were times when the women all met together. It was very difficult – they were shouting, fighting, the men were swearing. Lots of times we actually had to close the meeting. But once I managed to take control: I said 'Alright, let's all swear. I can swear too. I can swear, so let's swear together. But I'm not sure what good it will do: we won't build the kolkhoz on swear words'. Well, we talked a bit, and then we all split up. One of the other teachers says to me, 'Come and stay the night', so I say 'Alright, let's go'. The komsomol members were keeping watch all the time, so we went off to the school with her. And there were stones flying around my head, stones they were throwing at me, all over the place. So on the second day I sat down and I thought...

I thought: I need a plan. I need a plan for what I do tomorrow, because tomorrow we have to have another meeting. We hadn't made any decisions, hadn't decided anything. So I think: tomorrow I'm going to battle with them again. Again I'll have to swear with them.

So we voted for the chairmen and the secretaries of the party organisations. I say to them – 'Well come on then, let's do some swearing and get going'. But they all shouted and shouted and I say 'You're going to be shouting for a long time, shall we try to get something done? Come on, really, it'll be fun to work', I say to them. Well – at long last, an intelligent person came forward. And it wasn't a bad meeting.

The kolkhoz?

Yes – only gradually, of course, we had to make note of all the animals. So I went home, got in the door – and everything should have been alright only I didn't feel calm. You understand – I just didn't feel at ease.

And the school was built on a high level, very high, so that you couldn't have climbed up. And I can hear that someone is climbing up... they knock at the door, and I just turned, and there was a shot. If I'd been sitting down there, I wouldn't have been alive.

And there are children there, and I'm alive. And the children sent messages, rang around to say that I'd been killed, and a whole brigade was sent to find me – and saw me alive. That's how it all was.

And that was all in Ryazan oblast?

Ryazan. Then I left Ryazan and worked regularly not as a teacher but as – what's it called?

In the organisation?

As inspector. But I worked for schools all the time. I did everything, helped the young teachers, told them how to run lessons. And even the older ones too – I could give them a few tips. Some of them had been learning for 30 years. I was intimidated – I was only 30, I was even scared of teaching. I sat still and didn't go to work: I wasn't going to be an inspector, and that was that. Then they wanted to make me the Deputy Head of the regional education authority – but they didn't, of course. I didn't want to. And then there was wartime recruitment.

Of course, I'd just got married and my husband was serving in Leningrad in the army. Mama came to visit me and she said 'Come on, let's go', but they wouldn't let me go. 'You're not going! We've got no-one to work, there's lots to do'. And they wouldn't let anyone go. I decided to go: I bought a ticket and left without any of my documents.

her daughter asks: Where did you go, Mama?

To Suzdal.... So I arrived and they sent me off straight away. I worked in the school there – they made me Director (head teacher). Then the war started.

My husband – he was sent away.

The Great Fatherland War [2nd World War]?

Yes. My husband... he was sent away, he should have finished in the army, but they kept him – and he took me with him. So I worked in Leningrad, in a school, early years. Then I fell ill... No – then they took me into the regional section of the Party, and I worked there. I was in charge of documents: I wrote out tickets and checked everything over. But then I had a terrible misfortune. My little girl died, then a second one died, and I became very ill. The doctors – local neurologists – said they couldn't cure me. They sent me to the Behterev Institute, where there was a department of psychiatry, and I stayed there for 2 years. I was in such a state that my head was quite messed up. They wanted to open up my skull, but I wouldn't let them. I'd rather die... 'Keep away from me.. I won't let you'. Anyway, they cured me there – cured me with everything under the sun. I was a mass of injections, all sorts of different medical machines, tablets...

and? Did it help?

(inaudible) Then they sent me off for a rest cure, to Gelendzhik. I stayed there for a while.

Did that cure you?

And then, in Leningrad... I went back there. Later on they sent my husband to the border, to Karelia... I've forgotten where it was.

Sestroretsk

No – the place in Karelia.

aha. Well it doesn't matter.

No – it's not important.

I arrived there – I hadn't been there for 2 whole years. They got us all together, all the women, and they said 'Come on, let's do some teaching. There are lots of illiterate women, and we haven't got any teachers. There isn't one. Maybe there's someone among you who's a teacher'. And I stuck my neck out and said 'I'm a teacher. I've got a degree'. They said to me 'Alright. So you're going to teach everyone'. I said I could only teach the illiterates 'I can't teach that lot'. Well, anyway, they found two more and we worked together. Then they wanted to choose me to be head of the kolhoz. I said nothing... I mean I don't know any Korean [sic?]. I said 'I can't do it'. And they said to me: 'You just show us what to do and we'll do it'. So I had to work.

Did you work as head of the kolhoz then?

I did, but I worked just for a short while, and then the war started. We went off into the forest one day for mushrooms – and there were so many of them. So, so many. So anyway, we went into the forest, and we're just walking along as if nothing is happening, and we got right to the Finnish border. We got to the border, and we were captured. Of course it wasn't the Finns that captured us, but our border guards. They shouted at us of course, and then took us...

Can you tell us – when you compare life in those days with life today, which was better? Do they differ in significant ways, and was it better then or now?

I lived well then, and I live well now. I live like a duchess now! It's good to be with someone, isn't that right? It's true – I don't work now, and that bothers me. I want to work, but I can't. I just sat down on the floor here, I felt terrible. I felt as if I was dying, everything was being taken from me. 'Well what on earth is this then! I won't lie down, not for anything in the world'. I'm alone alone in the flat and I shout out: 'I'm not going to die, not for all the money in the world! I'll get up off the floor, and I'll be fine, and you know – what am I dying for anyway? I've got two lovely grandsons and I need to watch how they are going to grow up.' So I got up, and I was perfectly alright.

Which times in your life were the best for you?

Oh – you know: I've lived through so much. Of course I've been very spoiled.

Which were the happiest years Mama? (her daughter asking)

Ah – the happiest?

Which years?

I'm alright. I worked all my life. For as long as I could, I worked.

Can you tell us about events connected with Stalin? Who did people blame? Those people who were arrested... people you knew, people in your circle, who did they blame?

Those who deserved it – them, of course. They should definitely be blamed. They lived among us, some of them used to come and see me. Communists used to come to me with false documents. But some of the others – well of course.

They ended up there by mistake, you mean?

Yes. But those that did it, they should be blamed.

Was Stalin blamed for the repression?

I don't remember.

Was Stalin blamed at that time for the repression?

I don't remember that. Some people said that it was wrong to blame Stalin, I heard that from some people. Someone asked me once, one of our communists in Suzdal asked me what I think about Stalin, and I said that he had never done anything to hurt me. And what he did, it must have been necessary – because. It must have been necessary, because you don't just take a person away for no reason.

Well... it's not certain

Not certain!

Lots of innocent people were arrested

No – you know what.

Perhaps it wasn't so much Stalin that was responsible

No, you know – what was he called... Beria was the one who was responsible. Beria. Beria – that was a real animal. I didn't like him. He just chased after the ladies.

Is that right?

Of course.

And what was people's reaction when Stalin died?

We all cried.

daughter speaks: I remember – I was at school then. The school was very small and we had a special wall in the hall, and they got us all together and announced a minute's silence – and everyone cried. Then in the street – the people flooded into the streets. There was a loud speaker, and everyone gathered and we all cried. It was a national holiday.

grandmother again: You know what I think. One person can't be responsible for all that. There was a whole department. Really.

Well, yes. And can you tell us – are you a religious person? Did you go to church?

Yes, I am, I used to go to church on anniversaries, then I stopped going.

The church was taken down, is that right?

No – I didn't do anything.

But you saw it?

Yes, I saw it – it was in front of the school. The children tore it down. And in Suzdal there were 34 churches. I don't know how they did that.

daughter: 33 churches, Mama.

33?

daughter: 33, and only one of them was functioning.

Grandmother: Well... they loaded everything up, put it all into one place.

And what happened with those who worked in the churches, priests?

Oh I don't know about that. I didn't hear anything. I left Suzdal.

What did the (Communist) Party mean for you at that time? Did you believe in Communism?

I believed, and I did everything I was meant to do. I was 50 years in the Party. I've got a medal for it.

What did your parents do?

My mother was Praskovya Mihailovna – she worked at home. Looked after the land we had.

And your father?

daughter: He was a member of parliament, isn't that right, Mama?

I don't know. She was at home all the time. She had 6 children.

And your father?

He was in the army. They took him away, and we never saw him. He met Stalin, he fought with him.

Really!

And he knew Lenin, and he knew Krupskaya.

And you?

Well – she came to visit us. And she was very simple, ordinary. I went up to her and I said 'Could I talk to you please?' and she said 'Come and see me tomorrow, and we shall talk'. Well I went to see her on the following day, but she had already gone, she'd left. They had told her to go, and she left. And then in Suzdal they used to call me Krupskaya! (laughs)

And you met Yesenin as well?

No – I didn't actually meet him. He courted my friend for a while, that's what happened. But I never met him.

Very interesting

Yes – my story is long. Wherever I've been, I have been happy. I remember they sent me from one village to a different one, I was working for the MVD (home office), and I had to find something out. And the river was flooded, very flooded... and I set off, I was very tired. I thought – if I cross it, I'll drown. You had to jump from one piece of ice to another. Well I did it in the end, I jumped, and I was alright. Then they told me later on – we'll take you across next time. But who I worked with, I can't remember.

Well of course, with your age.

No – it's my head... I don't remember anything.

And all your documents are lost? Have you got nothing left?

I have my Party membership card.

Can we photograph it? Do you remember what you received it for?

Of course you can. I don't remember... I went somewhere... I don't remember, honestly.