oral history

Novosokolniki

January 2007

Today we're in the home of Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Afanaseva. We're from the school... we want to know about the history of our local region not from books, but from those who took part in in. We are interested in the periods before, during and immediately after the war...

I don't know – I've forgotten everything.

I mean, for example, how did people feel at that time? I mean – do you remember the 30s and 40s?

I got through the whole war, and what did God give me? Nothing. There were Germans, lots of them. They were holding Moscow, they were everywhere in Pskov as well.... And when they dropped bombs, we all lay down in trenches. There was a church next door to your house, just a bit further on, they were there for a long time. And we worked for the war, it was very hard.

And were you born in Novosokolniki? Who were your parents?

My parents lived not far from here, behind the forest, behind the school. When I got married, I used to go and visit them there. Father was a baker. His name was Aleksandr, my mother's was Tatiana. We had – mother had lots of children, 5 of us. Now two of my brothers are dead.

(They ask if she has any old photographs, then they asked about de-kulakisation, religion. Mostly she says she doesn't remember. Then they ask 'Can we photograph you?'

Oh children – no, don't do that!

Why not? We're going to write about you!

There were different people in power then, children. I talk badly, talk too much. Power was different then.

When the war started, did you used to go to church?

We went before the war, but when the war started, there was nowhere to go to.

You said the church was destroyed – do you know what happened to the priests?

No I don't know.

Were you baptised?

Of course I was! I'm baptised!

What did people do on festivals, holidays?

Walked, people walked at all the festivals. And then they ate well, better than now, and health was better. People went to church.

Did you have a passport during the war?

Of course I did! And there was one time when we had nowhere to live, and some people took us in – there were 7 of them in the family, just imagine that – 7 people, and we were 5. 5 of us, and Mama too, so 6 altogether. Then one old woman died, and there was typhus in the village – you know what that is. The Germans were in the village, they went right through our village. And whoever fell ill and died, they were taken off to the forest, they dug a huge pit, and everyone was thrown in there. From their family a small boy fell ill and then died. Everyone fell ill in the village, and then my mother and the woman we were living with, they started going round the village looking after people. I remember they put Mama in the corner, by the icon – I don't remember anything, didn't understand, but she lived. And then I started to get better slowly as well. Then we were put in the camp and we had to dig trenches. They sent us to the barracks – not barracks, tents. The beds were iron and we had to sleep on them. In the morning at 6 o'clock we were woken and we went off to work.

How long were you held in the camps?

I don't want to remember that. Some people sent me papers from Leningrad and I burnt them. I was there for about 3 months. Then our camp was destroyed. The camp was destroyed and we were caught and sent back again. And there was absolutely no work anywhere.

You spoke about your husband – tell us how you got married

We got married.. there were different sorts of men then, they were soldiers. Mama had 5 children, and then when our land was liberated, part of them went on further. They gave us 700 grammes of bread each, and soldiers got 900 grammes. That was alright for us, and alright for them. We ate while we moved. They bombed us. And Mama lived in a dug-out as well, with the lads – that's how they lived.

At work, were people punished for being late?

Not so much punished, but told off.

So for being late – that was very serious?

Very serious.

How long was a working day?

From 8 in the morning till 8 at night, and you take all your tools with you on the train. People used to carry everything, their spanners (kliuchi?) on their backs. I still have my labour book. (trudovaya knizhka)

Which were the most difficult years?

The war and after the war were difficult. There was famine. But it was fun: we used to get together and cook up anything.

If you compare those days with today, which is better and which is worse?

Well, children, it's good now. But it can be bad. Everyone's well fed now, overfed.

Was it hard with food products then?

Oh yes. Soldiers were given a small snack, and they had to work from 8 till 8. We marched on that. We marched on that and the military base – you know where that was? They've built a new one now, but there used to be another one. We marched, and we built that one, that was where we worked.

You built it yourselves?

Well – I mean we got everything ready and the soldiers did it, and we helped them get things ready. I was working there when I got married. Then the occupation ended. He was in the army, and we had nowhere to go after that.

But you married for love, didn't you?

I don't know.

Can you tell us what you think about Stalin himself?

Stalin... oh I don't remember. How many people died, grandfathers at the front, their children taken away. They sent everyone to the front, killed them.

Which events do you particularly remember?

Oh well – I was so glad when my father came home from the war. He was at the front. There were four of us – the fifth son died. And when my father came home, we could all celebrate. When he came home he could help us, and we all felt more cheerful.

Can you tell us what you think about today's young people?

Young people weren't like that in our day.

So they were very different?

Of course... I mean, they're not bad now, but not all of them. But then too – there were different sorts of people, everyone was different. Children today are very nice, good: some of them open the door for older people. They used to read more, but today people are different – rich, and they ought to read more. They have too much now. Only it's difficult: you have to pay so much for everything. I cry half the time.

Whose fault do you think it was – what happened?

When the war started – well who else, when Germany suddenly ...

You mean they started it

Of course. Germany struck us, invaded. There were so many wounded soldiers then. They were brought in wagons, and evacuees, and then back again.

Thank you so much for your time, for everything you have told us

Pskov Region

We're particularly interested in the 1930s and 1940s

Well – what did we have at that time... there was the Soviet government... we were OK ('zhili')

Did the political situation have any impact on your life?

On my personal life?

(Someone in the background says 'well go on – tell them about the 1930s. Tell them how you worked on the kolkhoz, then you left, why you left)

I was here till 1933, then I left, because there was no-one to do the work. There was grandfather, we didn't have a father, there were 3 of us and we lived here – grandfather, grandmother... up until 1930, even up till 1933. Then Sasha's son, his brother left, the land was no good, and they didn't have enough for a loaf of bread. We weren't too worried about loaves of bread, we lived a very modest life. So anyway, Vika's father left, then my brother left, then I left in 1933. I went off to the town, but you couldn't get registered anywhere, and I didn't really have any official documents from here.

Well I worked as a maid, I worked... I was already 18, had my passport by then and I worked as a housemaid. I had to feed the child, wash nappies – I was 18 years old.

So that's how I managed, then in the summer I arrived here, and the kolkhozes had already been set up. There were 2 kolkhozes and we used to go to the other one, because we'd given up our horse to the kolkhoz and they were making money on our horse, and we had nothing. Grandfather was old, so was grandmother, mama too, and I worked all summer and so did my friends. So we used to go off there. We earned enough over the summer, they still didn't really give us any documents, so we left for the town... Well I worked in the college, a friend fixed that up for me. So I worked from 1934 – 1939, then I got married to one of the students. It was a military college. Then the war... the war. And in 1939 we went to Poland, just when we got married, in 1939 in Poland, my husband was called up. He was an officer. We didn't live in occupied Russia – we were evacuated. My husband was sent from one place to another – he was a soldier, you see. Then I came back home – no, not home, I forgot. I came back to where we'd lived the first time, to the Kirov region. Then I had a son, and we were evacuated with my son, then he died. And my husband came back from the hospital, and we had to get ready to go again. Yes, I mean my son had died, we had to work. All young people worked then, all of them, and no-one – no, everyone worked, and I had to. And I had just... well I finished my course and worked. I worked for 3 years, it was all like that... and then life...

Did you know anything about the repression?

What?

Did you know about repression?

Me – no, nothing.

It didn't affect you?

Not us, no. We weren't aware of that, of repression. But we were, as people say, we were a hard working family, we were, like they say, a peasant family. I grew up in a peasant family... I lived here, on this plot of land, like they say, we had a house. The Germans were here, but we weren't aware of repression, not in any way.

What happened with religion at that time?

Religion was our life then, up intil 1930. And the school was very good, and the teachers... All young people went to evening service in the church, particularly on the big festivals. Then we sang in the choir, there were nuns there. They sang, and we did, the young people. We had robes and white shawls. Then they destroyed the monastery, I don't know who did it, how it was done. But some of the nuns stayed, those who were locals... there was even... my grandmother's sister, Tatiana, then there was Danilova – you know, the locals. And the nuns taught us, we used to get together. There weren't any clubs, we used to get together .. one day in our house, next day in the neighbour's, and we learnt from them. They didn't teach us anything bad – they taught us how to sow, needlework.

So the girls and I, we were taught how to iron, to sow ???????, to knit – that was all the nuns, they were good with their hands. And there was a little house, it's not there now, and we used to go over there. That's what they did, so it was fine, we didn't see anything we shouldn't. True – we didn't get a pension, because new people came into power... Mama didn't get one, although there were 3 of us. My brother was 4, second brother was 2, then I was born. Papa was at the front. So I grew up with grandmother, grandmother, and Mama, and we worked at home. We had our own bit of land, and we worked right from when we were tiny. Whatever we could do.

So you did what you could. That was what it was like, like that. Then later on a completely different life began.

And what do you think has changed for the better, or for the worse?

I don't know – it didn't really concern me. It doesn't concern me... we live, how we live, and I'm old enough now for nothing really to matter. But you know, we didn't used to drive around in cars, now people go everywhere in cars. I think that's bad – we went everywhere by foot, we walked everywhere. Someone came to see me and he starts saying ooh Aunt Katya! You walked to school! And I say, yes, I walked to school, we all used to walk, everything by foot. Babushka lived near the Serebryanka, Mama used to walk 20 kilometres to see her. Without any difficulty we used to walk, we didn't even feel it. Maybe we were stronger then, people now are much weaker, not so tough.

(laughing) Yes. And can you tell us about an important event in your life?

Well .. what was important for me. An important event happened during the war. My husband was an officer and I used to travel with him. But then I had a child and he was sent off to the front, to Poland. Then the war started, and I didn't hear anything from him at all, not for 3 years. He didn't know where I was and I didn't know where he was. Then in 1943, my little boy had already died, and I'd finished studying, because I had to work of course. I'd been evacuated, I had nothing for my feet, no shoes – well, boots I had, and a coat. I was an evacuee with my child and we had one suitcase, nothing at all apart from that. And then suddenly they called me from the hospital, I was the caretaker, I remember that day – it was Red Army Day. And they called me, and I left the house, where we lived in a flat. And I asked 'what's happened... what's happened to my husband?' I didn't know anything, you see. And she said 'It's not about your husband – it's your husband!' And I burst into tears. That was a big event.

And I ran, I said 'Aleksandr – Sasha!' because we hadn't know anything about each other, not for 3 years. It had been such a terrible war – and then this... this happened. I'm feeling all nervous from this ... everyone asked me what's happened? What happened? Has there been a death? No, no – not a death... my husband, they say. So what are you crying for! What am I crying for? It's all so unexpected. I hadn't even imagined it.

So there you are. There's an event. We met, and we lived together for 63 years.

What helped you to get through the difficult patches? How did you manage?

What helped me – that we need to live, need to live, need to work. That's how I managed. We didn't chase after new clothes. We wore what there was.

Thank you very much

Velikie Luki

4 January, 2007

Interviewed by: Maria Lazareva, Iulia Gorbunova, Varvara Sergeeva

We are interviewing Luisa Gorchakova, 4th January, 2007. Could you tell us who your parents and grandparents were, please?

My grandmother was a cook... My grandmother had 13 children.

A large family!

13 children, yes. And my mother was a teacher of Russian language and literature, and my father was a construction engineer.

And their names?

Anna Ivanovna and Vladimir Vladimirovich. They were born there, in Siberia. Mama studied Russian at the.... My brother was born in 1935, my second brother in 1937 and I was born in 1938. That's it, there were three of us.

...
My grandparents studied at the same institute. Mama said that Papa courted her for a long time... look, you have lots of questions, I tell you what – Mama had no time to talk to us because she had to earn enough and bring up the 3 of us, and there was a 4th as well, a niece Rimma Antonovna. She was also a teacher of Russian and her father died in the war, then her mother died, so she lived with us. So there were 4 of us, and Mama had to bring us all up. She only had time for work, that's all she ever did, but she lived for a long time.

Did your grandmother talk to you about her life?

You know what – she didn't because she had 13 children and every day she had to go 30 kilometres, there and back.

To work?

She worked as a cook for a local landlord... She had lots of work, the only thing I remember is that she got my mother a job. She went to see them and managed to fix herself up as a servant – they had lots of children. So she washed the floor, she's washing and they throw some coins at her. She picked one up, but the other disappeared somewhere. And she goes on washing, clearing up, and she finds the second coin, picks it up and puts it on the table. And then later on he comes up to my grandmother and says 'Ooh, how honest your Niura is! I deliberately threw down some coins to see if she would take them or not'. And it was very difficult...

What was particularly difficult?

Difficult because there were lots of children and they all had to be given food and drink. Then when my grandmother had 10 children, her husband died, and she married my grandfather. Then my mother... he married my grandmother and then Mama and Uncle Lesha arrived, and then one more from him, from my grandfather.

And what do you remember from your own childhood? What did you do?

We played lapta [?????? ? ?????, ? ????????]... we particularly loved playing Cossack-bandits. Then we did skipping, we had dolls, but Babushka made them. You know, she drew the eyes on, made them out of fabric.

Did you have any animals?

When I lived in Yakutsk, yes. My grandfather had a horse – but you know, winter was only 2 months long. It was very hot there but the good thing was that there were lots of fruits, berries – lots and lots. Sorrel, onion, cranberry, red bilberry. Mama used to go out and then she taught all of us. And my grandmother made butter and baked pies, we made our own pelmeni. There was lots of storage space and we all used to make pelmeni, the older ones and the little ones – and then they were put in there. I remember that from when I was young. Then we had a cow, horse – it looks like we weren't really poor, since I don't say much about that. That's what they say – it looks like we were rich. But I say no, we lived like that, through our own hard work, we never had any potatoes. Only dry potato. I could never get used to potatoes – you ask my husband. I say to him 'heat up some kasha, and something else' and he asks 'what no potatoes?' But we never had any. Then my grandfather looked, looked... then the war, and we went off to the Ukraine. And we had a cow and he used to make hay. My grandfather slept there, and he caught cold and died, and then we sold the house and went off to Yakutsk. We went by ship to start with, then we climbed onto a military train and travelled the rest of the way. And in the morning I wake up and Mama's not there, she's gone to work. When she gets back in the evening I'm already asleep. So what can Mama have told me?

What can you tell us about life in Siberia and Ukraine?

Well what can I say... when we arrived I was 8 or 9. I only know that when we travelled about after the war, everywhere was chaos, destroyed. My grandmother married my grandfather – he was... he was exiled. To start with he went to prison, had to serve his term.

Do you know why he was exiled?

Well someone... and then we didn't bother to try to find out why. I asked what it was for and they told me that a bad person did it. So that's how he was exiled to Siberia.

Tell me which holidays you used to celebrate

Lots... New Year... we used to wait for our presents, everyone gave presents, and my grandmother and grandfather were there, Mama was there too. And we'd get dressed up, we did all that. We had a big Christmas tree, right up to the ceiling, and we sang songs 'In the forest a pine tree grew', I still remember it today.

And when Mama was a teacher, you know, I had 2 brothers ... and I would write and have no mistakes at all and they – well they loved mathematics. I couldn't do maths at all, but for Russian I always got a 4 or 5. I remember we would do dictation and Mama always gave me 5 and she would give them 2. 'You should be ashamed... two older brothers and look at your dictation. Take an example from your sister!' And I didn't even know the text, hadn't done that at school, but see how well I knew Russian language. But then I have one engineer, he lives in Moscow now, and the second is an artistic director, he lives and works in Kiev. I got married at 21 to a metal worker () from Pskov.

Did you meet him in Ukraine?

Yes, he was in the army there. He's not a pilot but – how is it... he served in the airforce in Kiev and they sent him to Grebenka, and that's where I lived. That's how we met – my friend introduced him to me, she worked as a telephonist and she introduced me to Vladimir, and he took me off to Novosokolniki. In 1968 I got married, we had an expensive wedding. He was 24.

Did you used to celebrate religious holidays?

You know... I'm soon going to be 69, but Mama wouldn't allow me to.

Was your mother not baptised?

No, she wasn't, she didn't allow it because Mama didn't want it. Mama never went into a church. Babushka always celebrated religious festivals and she went to church. She was a very good cook, a really wonderful cook – she would make varenniki with honey, that sort of thing. But Mama didn't go, because that was not allowed. Grandmother went to church though. I've got 2 sons, the oldest one is baptised and the second one also.

Was there a church in your neighbourhood?

I don't remember that – I was only 8 or 9 years old. No – maybe I did go. But in Irkutsk, there there was a church and my grandmother used to go there. She had all 13 of her children baptised and my mother was baptised as well. You see I don't understand, ??look I'll put my glasses on... see there were holidays, people went to the cemetery.

What about collectivisation and de-kulakisation – did that affect you?

I don't think so.

//But you said your grandmother had worked as a cook for some landowner. All the landowners were de-kulakised, sent off to the kolkhozes.

That was before the war, and there was nothing there. I used to walk 30 kilometres there and 30 kilometres back. She died when she was 83, she had a heart made out of stone, my mother died at 69 – that's her daughter for you. And babushka died at 83, she lived even longer. She had a tumour. But she always said that she worked for a landowner, but she wanted to work closer to home – but he wouldn't let her. And then of course it worried ?????????? her that she had lots of children. The only thing he did, he checked out my mother to see if she was honest or not. He didn't even know that he'd dropped that coin, but she found it and put it on the table. And he didn't expect that. Because she was from a simple family, with lots of children, so she should have taken the money for herself – but she would never, never take touch it, never take it.

So – I finished at teacher training college and worked in a nursery school in Novosokolniki for 37 years. They did modelling, sculpture there, drawing, story time. You see I ended up in a very good nursery school – one of the best – and we used to do modelling out of snow. See, it's New Year soon... it's terrible what a winter this is...

But in those days – a snowy winter! Next to us there was a railway line, and just imagine – the children would take their skates, collect lots of snow, and we would make sculptures of Father Christmas and Snow White. Then the 3 bears and Snow White, 3 bears and a hare, an elephant, fox – we sculpted all of that out of snow. I did so much sculpting! I learned how to sculpt. And I taught my children everything – drawing, sculpting. I was a railway worker, but I worked 37 years in a nursery school, sculpting, and I loved to draw.

See – and I've got 3 grandaughters and a grandson. One of them, she's already 24, she's married, the second grand-daughter is studying at the railway institute, the third... and the fourth, my little grandson Sergunchik.

You know – it was very difficult then, very very difficult.

Did you enjoy your school, learning in school?

I did. I particularly like geography Russian language, but I didn't like maths. I liked physics, didn't like algebra.

Did you enjoy history?

Not particularly.

How did they teach it?

We had a very good teacher, Valentina Ivanovna. We learnt about all the party congresses – and that was important then.

Were you a Pioneer?

I was, yes, and I was in the Komsomol.

Were you a member of the Party?

No I wasn't.

Why not?

You know – I just wasn't. I think I wasn't really good enough, I don't know why... but I was asked to be in it. I wasn't good enough. Mama really wanted me to join – I went to see her in the holidays and she said that's wonderful – you're going to be in the Party! But I didn't really want to. There were all those Party meetings and so on.

What did you think when the Soviet Union fell apart?

Well how can I say this... of course, very sorry. You know, in Brezhnev's time we lived very well, whatever he was like. I couldn't believe it... I'd worked in a nursery school and I had a tiny pension – I earned just 2300, and I'd worked for 43 years. 37 of those I'd been in charge of children – and then I didn't have enough. You know what – I asked them why I had such a tiny pension and they said, you know what they said? They said you didn't work 40 years. I said ok, fine, and I went and worked as a cleaner in a shop nearby, and I worked for 7 years there as a cleaner. I can't just sit still. I think we lived much better in Brezhnev's time. We had some sort of hope, we had dreams. And even when we got our salary – oh girls, if I had 5 rubles left over, that was a lot then! I was rich: 5 rubles I had!

You say it was good in Brezhnev's time – do you remember anything about the Stalin years?

I don't particularly remember anything. I just remember when he died, I remember that they left us all and we sat in the classroom, and then they asked us to stand up and we all went off and we cried, we mourned, because Stalin had died.

What did your parents tell you about it? Did they talk about it?

You know, I can't really say anything about that. Of course, Mam? ?????? ... everyone wondered how we would manage now without him.

Did you know anything about the repression?

No – you know, only what I've seen in films.

Did your mother say nothing about that?

My mother-in-law was not very well educated, no-one said anything to me. Maybe they told me something, but I don't remember now. They even brought me a book 'Kremlin Wives' about Molotov... Mama was always bringing it to me and saying 'read that, girlie'. You start reading it and ...wow! Could it be true? I read it all in one go. Very interesting it was, very.

Do you think that it was true, what was in those books?

I think it was partly true. You know, when we watch a film part of it's true, and part of it is exaggerated, isn't it.

And when you watch films about those times, what do you think? Why did it all happen?

You know, what can I say... part of it's true and part of it's a load of rubbish. I think they exaggerate. Maybe they wanted to show us that this is how it was – there were very few films before, you know. We loved to read. We believed all of it, and maybe that was right. Oh how I loved Korchagin! But I don't like all this – I don't like it that they show films where there's one murder after another, blood all over the place, all of that. And even the repression... I've got lots of books now, lots and lots. If I watched a film, I would buy a book afterwards – but you know, we were very poor then. It was fun, believe me, Mama made dresses for me... I loved the colour lilac and she made me a lilac dress. Oh girls, I was so pleased with that dress ??????????? Everyone used to say – look how fashionable Luisa is! Mama took a piece out of her dress, a small piece that had been torn off and she made it up into a dress for me. And it was so stylish, with pockets.. pockets everywhere, and everyone was so happy. We were fashionable!

What can you say about whether things have got better or worse? Was it more interesting then, or more difficult for you?

Oh no – our time was still better, everyone enjoyed themselves, sang songs. No no-one sings. We danced, walzes, tango... Our time – for me, it was very good. For you, of course it's the past. But you know what my grandsons said 'Granny – we love you, you're our special Granny – but we like the way we live'. I loved my time, but my grandsons, they like theirs.

Novosokolniki

21 March, 2007

Interviewed by: Nina Vasilevna and Olga Kapralova

...

Can you tell us who your parents were?

...
My parents were teachers in a primary school in the village.

Do you have any old photos of the years before the war...?

We have no photos because in 1955, the school where they were all kept burnt down. Everything my parents had – and my mother and father both had medals which they had received in the Great Fatherland War, and photographs – and everything else, it was all destroyed. And my grandmother, who might have had some photographs, she also lived through the occupation. Then my other grandparents, my mother's parents, they lived in the Rostov region of Ugodichi village, in Yaroslav oblast.

...
I lived in the village... and there was no church in the village because Old Believers lived there, but they used to get together for the big religious festivals, I remember that, in two houses, and they would take the service. They weren't priests really... they just managed to read the holy books which they had managed to keep, so that was the sort of religious service we used to have. And they conducted funerals and baptised children – that was what they used to do.

We are particularly interested in the 1930s and 1940s – what do you know about what happened in those years?

The thing is that my father told me what had happened to his family just before his death, about 2 years, or rather 8 years ago. He told me what had happened to his family in the 1930s, and my mother had told me before that. But to me, for example, it wasn't really clear... and only now, I understand what happened then, when history is being rewritten, in a completely different way. And we know that history was very much altered, embellished, particularly in the 1930s. My father told me that his parents – his father worked on the railways – the family was large, but when the revolution happened and they started giving away land, then he and my grandmother immediately went off to that region, that was in ..., that's where the land was. The land was very good and their children had already grown up, so the family was strong, hard-working, and they had a house by the side of a lake – a hutor, they called it. And since they worked so hard, they didn't need extra hands, and my grandmother said that lots of different things grew in the first year, and then in the second year. In other words, they had very good harvests and my grandfather, as he was allowed to at that time, was able to sell it. They already had 3 horses, a reaper, their own seeder, and lots of other things. And the father, or rather my grandfather, was already starting to think about how they could open a small tea-house at the crossroads, on the road between Leningrad and Kiev, with the money they had managed to save.

But then the 1930s arrived and my grandfather was called up before the village soviet, and there they asked him – as my father told me later – why he hadn't joined the kolkhoz. My father told me that his father was called up and they put a revolver on the table and said: 'you'd better be in the kolkhoz tomorrow, with all your animals and your whole family'. My grandfather went home. He was a sensible man and he got home, told his wife, and my grandmother was – well, she was very hard-working and she really minded, she'd put a lot of energy into that land. So of course she said that she didn't want to join the kolkhoz, and she set up a scene. Then grandfather said – go and get your things, we're going to load them up, and tomorrow we're going with our things and with the children. Grandmother started crying and went off to collect her things, everything she was going to hand over to the kolkhoz. Next day they took everything off, everything they had, and their horses and other things to the kolkhoz. But my grandfather, as he was really very clever, he said that they would join the kolkhoz, but his children wouldn't. So he sent off all his children – and he had 5 of them – he sent them off to study further. He could do that.

Uncle Petya was an excellent tractor mechanic and worked at MTS He sent my father off to study at the teacher training college, Aunt Nastya he sent off to medical school and only little Vera was left, and she lived through the occupation together with my grandmother. She was still very small... So that's it, that's what it was like. After the war, of course there was no-one left in the kolkhoz. Babushka was delighted, because all her children came home alive after the war – and little Vera was alive too. Well, but Uncle Petya did die about 5 or 6 years after the war ended. He had so many wounds.

How old were you at that time?

When?

At that time... you weren't born by then?

No – I was born in 1948. But my father told us all that just before he died. I was surprised that he had said nothing for so long, particularly as I thought of him as a very brave person, not afraid of anything. But it so happened that he only told us all that just before he died, just a few years ago. Just 2 years before his death he told us all that. And I learnt all that, and he said it was because... I can even say this, really ... perestroika had just started and he was already on a pension, he was very old already. And what happened was that there were only pensioners and old people left in the village and he went off to the village soviet, to the boss, and he asked if asked if they could sell them a horse, for the village, so that the old people could plough their gardens, fetch the hay, logs, go to the shop... him and another guy... and he couldn't manage to raise the cash on his own... and he told me all that...

Can you tell me what you know about collectivisation and de-kulakisation?

Well, collectivisation went like that – that's what my father told me about his experience. And my mother, her father used to sell horses, but he was a clever man and he used to go to Moscow frequently... he managed somehow to sort things out, and as a result, he sold all his property and bought different valuables which, as far as I understand, he gave away to his children who were grown up by that time. When they came to take away his property, it turned out that he'd got nothing left – so he avoided it like that.

But my mother had to carry the can: she grew up and studied at the teacher training institute, and then she was sent off to the front in 1942. I said to Mama – 'But you wanted to go to the front, didn't you?', I was proud of that, but she said no, that she of course hadn't wanted to go, that it was very, very frightening... and she said that when the aeroplanes flew over, everyone rushed for the bomb shelter, everyone hid somewhere. And we had to shoot.

Were people able to change their place of residence at that time?

No... it was very difficult. I even remember in 1955, I knew everything by then.. well in the 1930s it was pretty much impossible, and even in 1955, in the villages, in the kolkhoz... we were teachers, so it didn't really concern me, but with the children I taught, when they finished school in the 8th class, they were 15, and their parents used to try to send them off somewhere, so that they could get a qualification from the town and somehow manage to stay there. But just in order to send them off to the town, even to study at the technical college, they couldn't leave because their parents had to get an official document a 'Departure' document which said they had permission to go and study in college.

And what about changing place of work, or was that forbidden?

Well for that you needed both time and the possibility to make the change... I don't remember how long the working day was but Mama told me how she was sent off for work experience while she was still at college and it was about 15 kilometres from the village. There was another girl there who worked with her, but she was a teacher, and they used to go home on days off... Mama came back, and so did that girl from another village... they were dropped back, or something. Anyway, she was late by 7 minutes for work, and after that she had to work 3 or 4 days for no pay. How she was supposed to live, no-one knows.

Do you know whether certain literature was forbidden at that time?

I do... I'll tell you. I've forgotten the writer but he wrote about Babi Yar [she says 'yad' – ie hell] and suddenly – off he went abroad, became a dissident. The book was excellent – patriotic, told about the Great Fatherland War – and suddenly they banned it. Then there was Solzhenitzyn's 'Last (sic) Day of Ivan Denisovich', I did manage to read that. A teacher of history had got hold of it and I wanted to read it, to find out why it had been banned. But I couldn't find it anywhere. Then she lent it to me.

Can you tell us about food products – were there things you couldn't get hold of?

Well first of all, people didn't have as much money as they do now. Maybe if you wanted to, even if there were deficits, you could get hold of things – but people didn't have the money or the possibility. But after the 1970s, things just got worse and worse.

Which period do you think was the most difficult?

I think that the period before the war was the most difficult for people, because they really didn't know what was coming, and I think that the repression – they could end up there at any moment, for whatever reason. Then by the end of the war, people had learnt to hold their tongues. In any case, they had been through such a terrible war that people felt completely different.

Did you know anything about the repression, and did it affect you or anyone you know?

Well, I told you – both my grandfathers were clever, and they didn't try to stand up to the authorities. I mean they couldn't go anywhere, but they realised that it was pointless to try to resist – so that's why it didn't affect us.

Do you think that the repression was justified?

I think that no-one has the right to take away a person's freedom, and what he earns for himself, he should be allowed to decide how to spend. And in general, people shouldn't have to be afraid, they should be free, be able to feel freedom.

And who do you think was guilty for what happened, in the war, for the destruction?

You know, I read a lot of literature and if I draw conclusions, it is that I think the war happened in order to get rid of a lot of people. When there was the famine, nothing was done to save them. Then collectivisation started... those people who were capable of working, they had large families – they went off quite calmly somewhere or other: right? And then they calmly disappeared. A huge number of good and healthy people were just destroyed. And my grandmother was terrified because she was in occupied territory, she was a prisoner near the town of Orlom. And she was delighted that all her children returned from the war alive.

What do you think about Stalin himself?

I can't think well of him: through his personal ambition, he destroyed a huge number of people.

What do you think if you compare life today, and life at that time?

It's always hard work, everywhere. Of course I don't like what's happening today – but even so.

Tell me, did you used to celebrate festivals, holidays?

First of all, the villages were very large – for example, there's a little book 'The Countryman's Calendar' which has all the different countryside festivals. Every village in turn would organise a fair, and young people would meet there to sing and dance. They would sell things, depending on the season. I even remember what it was like in our village – on the 21st September there would be a squeeze-box playing, of course no-one went to work on that day, even if it was Thursday or Wednesday, we still didn't work. We always celebrated the Trinity – everyone went to the cemetery, and that was always a day off.

Now tell us about love... how you got married, and everything

My grandmother married her husband and she always used to say that she didn't love him. And we were all amazed – how could grandmother say that! I didn't ask my grandfather – he died in 1941. But grandmother said she didn't love him. I asked – well why... of course, everyone asked her that question. And she said he stole me. She was 13 years old and very hard-working – everything she did with her hands was a triumph and the main thing was that you could count on one hand the number of things she couldn't do. And what she could do – well she really was an extraordinary woman. And they had a fine horse and I [sic] was walking along the road and there was some sort of celebration going on, and they caught her and off they went. But she tore herself free and ran away, but the snow was very deep and the horse was really fine, and they put her in the sledge and took her away. And in the village it was like this, that if you didn't spend the night at home, but spent it in some young man's company, then you had to marry him. Because it was a scandal, it was shaming for your parents and they would worry, and would anyway force you to get married. And they forced him to marry her, but he wanted to marry her – it was she that didn't want to. So that's how she came to live with him, for a long time, and they had lots of children – she gave birth to 8 children, of which 3 died in infancy and 5 were left.

Tell me – were you baptised?

Yes, I was baptised in Rostov, in Yaroslav oblast.

Can you tell us what you think about young people today?

I wouldn't say that young people are worse than they used to be. I worked in a school, I saw them, and I can't say they are any worse. The only thing that I don't like is that they seem to do everything very superficially. They don't try to go deeper. There is no self-education, no self-discipline – that doesn't seem to to be there in them.

When you went to school, was it far from home? What was it like?

The school I was in until the 4th class was a wonderful school. My parents worked there... Mama didn't work there because she was already on an invalid's allowance, but there was another teacher and my father worked in the school. The school was wonderful because my father was a really good teacher – he remembered everything, always asked about my health. Secondly, it was nice in school because it was a small one – about 30 in each class. When it was break time, we could play chase, hide-and-seek, and sometimes the break went on for a whole hour. It wasn't difficult, and he was a very inquisitive person himself – for example we could build a dam in the stream which was near the school. Everything was very peaceful, there didn't seem to be any aggressive children. There was no television, not everyone even had a radio at home. And then I went on to a 8-year school which was 4 kilometres away from the village and we had to walk there every day. By half past eight we had to be in school... we got up at half past seven, at eight we left the village and walked fairly quickly. And we walked through the forest, a group of us with the little ones behind and us in front. They didn't clean the roads so we had to do that ourselves – walking was hard work and there were wolves in the forest, so it was a bit scary as well.

Did your parents have passports?

My parents – grandmother was already quite old, she wasn't working any more and she lived in the village. But then she went to town and there they gave everyone passports.

Thank you so much for your time... there will be a book about the things you have told us, and an exhibition in the local museum. We will certainly invite you!

Novosokolniki

18 December, 2006

Interviewed by Nina Vasilevna and Anastasia Sushko.

This is Nina Vasilevna and Anastasia Sushko, we are at the home of Bazoleva, Maria Nikolaeva. Are you still sleeping?

I didn't sleep all night.

I see. We're here for the second time, you know... and we wondered if we could ask you some questions... Could you tell us whether you were born in Novosokolniki?

I was born in the village of Kruglikova, in this region... My parents worked the land. My father was Daryanov, Nikolaj Yakovlevich, my mother was Daryanova, Tatiana Dmitrievna. I have one brother, Ivan Nikolaevich, he lives in Otradnoe.

...
I was born in 1936, I was very young in the 1930s and 1940s. Well – I remember from my mother's stories that that was when there was de-kulakisation. But we weren't – there was nothing to be taken from us. We weren't completely starving, but we were quite poor. But my relatives were de-kulakised – I'm not sure which ones, but they were not distant relatives. They had their livestock taken, grain, everything they possessed.

Tell us which was the most difficult period

The war, and just after it. We were very young, and very hungry, we had nothing.

Can you tell us – did you go to church at all?

No, I never went. There was a church in the village, but it was burnt down in the war, vandalised, and I don't know what happened afterwards.

If you compare life then with what it is like now?

No – it wasn't really easier then – now perhaps it's a little easier: at least we do receive something, then it was nothing at all. My mother first received a pension of 8 rubles, but which year that was – it must have been after the war, maybe it was in the 1980s already, I don't know. I know she got 8 rubles to start with, then 12 rubles. Then when she died, they got 25 rubles each. She worked all the time in the kolkhoz, looked after the calves, grazed them and looked after them. She had to feed them, milk them, then we took it in turns. We got up at 4.00 am and either Mama or one of us went off to graze the cows.

Today people talk a lot about Stalin, in the newspapers and on television – what do you think, is it true what they say?

Well what do they say? They say bad things, do they?

Well... they praise him and they curse him

I wouldn't curse him, I started to work when he died. In March 1953, I went off to work at MTS. That's where they took us and sent us off to the kolkhoz.

So you have a positive view of Stalin?

No – not positive. He did nothing wrong to me. Everyone cried, was in mourning: 'what's going to happen now to the country? There's nothing left, no-one left'.

Did you know at the time about the Stalinist repression? Did you know that people suffered?

Well – I knew. They took people off to Siberia, sent them off, some people – only like that. I knew from my mother's stories. they used to talk about it, that's all, but in general, I didn't know anything about it.

And do you think that that was justified, was it right what they did?

Well, I don't know. If you're talking about the post-war period, maybe it was wrong to send them off. People didn't exactly say it themselves, that they wanted to go off and work for the Germans.

Tell us about those terrifying events, what did you feel at that time?

What did I feel – bad, of course. Felt that it wasn't right. Well, you know, and that treachery – why was that war necessary? Forcing us into that, and the Germans were all different: some of them arrived and they were kind, some marched from Novosokolniki to Nevel, marched past, then they bombed – but not the village. On the outskirts, on the marshes they dropped bombs. Then when they returned, that was when the war had already started. They marched from Belarus.

What do you think – could all of that have been avoided? Or was it as it should have been?

No – I don't know. We were left behind, old people and women. We had nothing to defend ourselves with, we were chased out of our houses and told to go off to the cows and live on bread. But there were frightening Germans too, there were frightening ones and there were humane ones, who showed us pity. Babushka slept on the stove, there wasn't anywhere else for her, we were afraid to go outside to the toilet, we went under the bed, my brother and I. He was 3, I was 5. We were afraid to go out in the street, specially when there was a commandant's office. They told us “schnell, schnell”, take your rags and get out of here, go to the hay loft. We lived in the hay loft with the cow. My mother fenced us off, she put the bed in there.

... then later on they sent us off all over the place, some went to Lithuania. We got there, we travelled the three of us – Mama, my brother and I. Our little house was bombed. We left the house and went off about 2 kilometres into the countryside, where my mother's grandmother and her sister lived. My mother's brother also went there – he came from Leningrad and stayed with us for the war, he was there for the whole war. Mama said 'if we're going to die, we might as well go together'. We cut up the cow, put the meat into barrels, and what things we had – the best things. You can't get everything on a sledge. I don't remember if we took the sledges to Lithuania or not, I don't remember, but I know that I walked behind the horse. Babushka was old, she and my brother rode, but I walked.

Then later on they put us into the goods wagon. We had a whole goods wagon for my family. On one side, the horse stood, and we were on the other side. But how we got back again, well I don't know. I didn't ask Mama who took us back again, I don't know. The Germans said to us – don't hide anything, take everything with you. They hid a lot of stuff in the forest, then later on dug up the piles, but didn't find anything.

Tell us what you think now about people's rights?

Well of course, all sorts of things happen. It's not really that people's rights are violated, of course it's difficult, hard to live and things are bad. I worked for over 50 years. I started work and didn't even have a passport. In 1953, in September, I think, there was an order for everyone to have a passport. And we were ordered as well, although we worked on the land – but we still counted as workers (kadres). We were so stupid then – anyway, what did we need a passport for? Where would we go with that!

But then we weren't able to leave. I worked for 4 years and then they transferred me – they didn't transfer everyone. But they took me from the kolkhoz at MTS to work on accounts at the factory shop, and I worked there for a long time. Then they transferred me to work as cashier. Then the bank ordered that no-one could enter the building without a passport. So I went home and I said to Mama 'I need a passport – where can I get that now?' We didn't need one before. Well, so I went off and got 2 bottles of samogon (vodka) – Mama bought them for a rouble each. There were no plastic bags of course – we put them in a string bag, wrapped them up in newspaper, and off I went to Chistyakov. He worked at the kolkhoz, so I went up to him. He asked me 'well what have you come to me for, you need a document from the kolkhoz. How can I let you go?'. And he just shrugs his shoulders. I said well I don't know – give me the documents, please. He's that sort of man: he says 'I can't, I'd have to get all the management together, no-one will let you go, you should have thought about it earlier'. So I started crying, and I left. I'd already worked enough to get one.

I used to go to the rural Soviet, I knew people there. So I went and found another chairman, a young man, and I went to him and he gave me the document. I went back to MTS with the documents, then I went to the police – and there they make a fuss about every sort of piece of paper. I submitted the documents and went back home, all happy. Then later on they said I could come and pick up my passport. I was shaking all over when I went to pick it up, but I got my passport, and I ran home, so delighted.

And at school I left after the 7th class.

Do you mind if we use what you have told us in our book?

I haven't told any lies. I just talked about myself, about my life.

So we can?

Of course you can.

Can we take a picture of you?

But my hair's all a mess!