But the burial is in demyakh. Three wars later. A military historian from Siberia wrote a book about the Berezin division. Assessments and opinions
I continue to read Shumilin’s notes “Vanka the Company”. The author died in Soviet times, and, of course, no one would have risked publishing his memoirs then. Although they were still read by the publishing house and even wrote a review - that was how it was supposed to be. But that's not what we're talking about.
Shumilin fought under the command of General Berezin. And the red thread running through his entire narrative is contempt and outright hatred for this general. It is clear that the trenchmen never favored the staff. But "Vanka-company" witnessed too many of Berezin's mistakes, which, as he claims, cost the soldiers their lives. And not even mistakes, but outright mockery and tyranny.
It is believed that Berezin died in 1942. Ordinary soldiers died in the millions, but generals rarely died, so the name of Berezin was especially honored. In Vladimir, Krasnoyarsk and the city of Bely, streets are named in his honor. An obelisk was erected for him. But I never found reliable information about the circumstances under which he died. And did he die? However, can there be anything reliable when such confusion has happened - the environment?
Shumilin claimed that Berezin “in May of forty-two abandoned his guards army and disappeared, leaving eight thousand soldiers captured by the Germans.”
Soviet propaganda had a different version: “In battles with the German hordes, Major General Berezin proved himself to be a Bolshevik commander of the Red Army who had mastered modern methods of war. On January 12, 1942, the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR awarded Major General A.D. Berezin the Order of the Red Banner And on March 17 of the same year, the 119th Rifle Division was transformed into the 17th Guards Division, as Pravda wrote about on the second day.
In June 1942, Major General A.D. Berezin was appointed deputy commander of the 22nd Army... And on July 2, the Nazis went on the offensive. They unleashed a huge blow on our defense. Some units were surrounded. General Berezin was also with them. He showed them escape routes, organized a perimeter defense, outlined breakout sites, and organized those who had lost control. General Berezin died. One of the documents contains an official entry made on September 22, 1942: “Did not escape encirclement.” In the same document there is another entry dated April 28, 1944: “Excluded from the Red Army lists as missing in action in battles against Nazi troops in 1942.”
This was believed until 1966, until a group of veterans of the 17th Guards Rifle Division went to the city of Bely and began to establish the fate of Berezin. As a result of a thorough search, stories from living participants and witnesses of those battles, the presumed burial place of Berezin was established. He was probably buried by partisans."
Everything is conjecture. Presumably a man in a general's uniform was buried there. Presumably it was Berezin. But the burial place is in Demyakhi south of the city of Bely, and this is very far from the Myata farm, where the general was supposedly last seen. Groups under the command of both the commander of the 381st Infantry Division and Major Gorobets broke through towards Demyakh. The name of General Berezin was not mentioned there. Nevertheless, there is a grave and an obelisk for Berezina, everything is as it should be. And this contradicts the memories of some “Vanka-company”.
Perhaps Shumilin committed a cruel slander. Or I was wrong. Or maybe the company commander simply couldn’t stand the general and decided before his death to write some kind of false memoirs, in which every now and then he almost shouted: “People, you don’t know the truth! There’s no one to tell it to you, because there are almost no witnesses left!” "You read the memoirs of staff rats, but they didn't see the war! They're lying!" In the heat of the moment, the veteran could have slandered the general, it is possible. Perhaps, in fact, Berezin felt sorry for his soldiers, making sure that they did not starve or die in vain. Maybe he lived and died like a hero. Actually, a lot has been written about this - about the hero general. But Lieutenant Shumilin’s notes are now also known to readers, and by searching for “Berezin” you can find a lot in his text.
A few years ago I came across book by M.I. Shchedrin "The Frontier of the Great Battle". He was at that time the Chief of Staff of the 31st Army, which included our division in December 41. There was nothing similar to what Shchedrin writes about near Maryino. The Germans did not launch any counterattack and did not push back our regiments. War is 800 soldiers shot point-blank from anti-aircraft guns on December 11 near Maryino and two accidentally surviving witnesses to this bloody massacre in the snow. Shchedrin M.I. based his book on reports that came from the division. But neither Karamushko, nor Shershin and Berezin knew what happened there. The companies were left alone, face to face, under the aimed barrels of German anti-aircraft guns. Everyone who started to run was shot by them. Human bodies were torn to pieces. Here's one episode out of thousands.
War is not only a bloody mess, it is a constant hunger, when instead of food the soldier in his company received salted water mixed with a handful of flour in the form of a pale gruel. This is the cold in the frost and snow, in the stone cellars of Bely, when the ice and frost freeze the vital substance in the vertebrae.
War is exactly what they don’t talk about because they don’t know. Individuals have returned from rifle companies, from the front line, they are silent, and no one knows them! Does the War Veterans Committee know those people who passed through the companies and disappeared during the war? Are they alive or dead? Who are they and where are they lying?
This begs the question. Who of the survivors can tell about the people who fought in the companies? It’s one thing to sit under pressure away from the front line, it’s another to launch attacks and look the Germans point-blank in the eyes. War must be known from the inside, felt with every fiber of the soul. War is not at all what was written by people who did not fight in companies. They were at the front, and I was at war. For example, during the winter of 1941, I once spent the night in an unheated hut with broken windows and a door. The war passed by for Karamushka. In his memory there were heated huts, bathhouses with a steam room, pliable housewives, lard, canned food and vodka in abundance, and a carpet sleigh with a stallion at the porch, which was gnawing at the bit and spraying saliva.
In general, no matter how much we walked away from the land conquered from the Germans, it was all on the account of Karamushka and Berezin. Their arrows on the cards were worth it, and our lives and blood did not count. I walked with the soldiers in front, the regiment commander rode with the convoy behind in a carpet sleigh, and I didn’t even see Berezina on the road. On these hills were our trenches and our front trenches. Our soldiers were killed here. We left many here on Belskaya land. Now houses and new streets have appeared in these places. The streets were given new names. One of them bears the name of Berezin, an unworthy man, guilty of many things (in the defeat of our division, as a result of which the 39th Army and 11th Cavalry Corps were surrounded) and who went over to the side of the Germans.
The Germans were not fools; they did not occupy the empty and cold basement. It didn’t occur to them that they could put living people in an icy stone basement and force them to sit there for the whole winter. Our general reasoned differently and ordered half a company of soldiers to be stationed there. Do not think that I was dissatisfied with my general then. Quite the opposite. I believed him and everyone who revolved around him. Back then I took everything at face value. It is necessary, it means necessary! For our homeland, for Soviet power, we are ready to do anything!
The general stuck half a company of living soldiers into an icy stone grave, and his hand did not tremble when he signed such an order. The Germans never expected that the Russians would crawl into the icy walls of the warehouse and remain there for the entire winter. Did Berezin consider his soldiers to be living people! It was empty inside, bare floor and icy walls. No stoves, no pipes. A freezer, a crypt, a grave for a living soldier. I applied several times to the battalion and directly to the regiment with a request to issue an iron stove to the company. But it was never sent until spring. The soldiers did not understand this. Lying on the floor, they writhed from the cold. There were sentries in the basement. The one who was relieved from duty |immediately| settled down to sleep. Sleep for some time relieved people from thoughts, from cold, from hunger and torment. The stone not only radiated a terrible cold, it penetrated a person to the very bones. It made my joints ache and the sockets of my eyes hurt. The cold reached [its] edge to the spine. Living bone fluid congealed in the vertebrae.
If they tried to wake up a soldier, then the wake-up began with pushing and shoving. The soldier was shaken for a long time, lifted from the floor, only after that he opened his eyes and looked in surprise at the soldiers standing above him. From the cold, everything flew out of the soldier’s memory.
When you lie on your side on |icy| stone floor, then half of the face and the entire lower part of the body freezes. She not only freezes, she goes numb. And when you need to get up, you can only move one half. The mouth and face are distorted, the neck is unnaturally bent |to one side|. The face expresses a grimace of suffering and laughter.
The mouth and face are twisted, as if the person is imitating you. Although everyone who sees this understands that this is all human torment, and not at all the grimaces and anger that can be seen on the well-fed and satisfied faces | faces of our rear guards, battalion and regimental |
Like a cold steel hoop, the icy cold presses on the head, |appears in the temples| terrible aching pain. The eyeballs don't move. If I want to look to the side, I turn my whole body there. Then, finally getting back on your feet, you begin to walk around the basement. So you gradually thaw out and give your voice.
All twenty soldiers in the basement strained their last strength, but no one complained. Great Russian people! Great Russian soldier! |And there, in the rear, our bosses were chewing pieces of lard, sipping the rich broth|.
Some soldiers had to be changed completely. The sick and wounded appeared. They were sent one by one to the flax mill. As a firing point, our basement was of no particular value. He was in every way unsuitable for our defense. He was pushed far from the main line of defense. |I was in a detached position from her|. Each shot from a narrow basement window towards the Germans resulted in new losses for our soldiers each time.
One day at dawn, machine gunner Sergeant Kozlov stood behind his machine gun. He decided to inspect the German defense line. Today he studied her especially. The night before, a machine gunner died on the trail. At night he went to the basement with a box of cartridges and carried a spare barrel for the Maxim. The sergeant was attracted to one place, on what is now Kirov Street, where the Germans were putting up a new fence along the street. Deciding to avenge his dead friend, he carefully set the sight on the machine gun and fired a long burst towards the Germans. Three Germans fell at once. Sergeant Kozlov paused in the shooting and began to observe what would happen next. After some time, three more ran up to the dead. And when he was ready to press the trigger again, two German machine guns hit the embrasure at once. A sheaf of sparks and fiery bullets burst into the basement. The sergeant did not have time to jump away from the machine gun shield; another blow of lead ricocheted and the machine gun shield rang. No one saw how his throat was cut. From the very jaw to the collarbone, his throat was torn out, as if it had been cut off from the cervical vertebra. The sergeant fell away from the machine gun, and blood gushed from his throat in all directions. His chest and face were covered in blood. When exhaling with a scream and wheezing, blood poured out, red foam bubbled over the hole. Blood flowed down his chest and dripped onto the floor. The soldiers rushed towards him, trying to bandage him. But he shook his head and tore off the bandage. He walked around the basement, wheezing and bleeding. His wild, pleading eyes sought support among us and begged for help. He rushed around the basement, shaking his head and with a crazy, soul-tearing look, looking dumbfounded into everyone's eyes. No one in the basement knew what to do.
- Go to the flax mill! - Pointing to the side window, the soldiers told him.
- You will bleed here and die! Go! Perhaps you will pass! - I told him.
He heard our voices and understood what we were talking about. He turned around every time and with one glance silenced those who were speaking. The soldiers were frozen with horror. The sergeant was dying before our eyes. He died a terrible, painful death. After a while, he came up to me and pointed to the pistol that was hanging on my belt. He asked me to shoot him with a pistol and stop his terrible torment.
- What are you talking about, dear! - I exclaimed, - I can’t do this! Here, take it yourself and go somewhere to the far corner, just don’t do it in front of your eyes. I can't! You understand, I can’t! I won’t forgive myself for this for the rest of my life!
The sergeant heard everything and understood everything, but did not take the pistol from me.
- Get out there and go to the flax mill! The Germans are sleeping now and are not watching the trail. You will pass peacefully! Listen, Sergeant! This is your only chance! Walk at full speed and don't be afraid of anything.
But he shook his head again. He did not dare to go upstairs from the basement. He did not want. He was afraid of something. He was not afraid of death. She was already standing before his eyes. He was afraid of shots. I was afraid of being shot. He snored and sprayed blood, he rushed back and forth in the basement. After a while he weakened, went to the far corner, sat down there and became quiet. No one dared to approach him. Everyone understood that he was dying, that life was leaving him, leaving slowly and forever.
He was bleeding and no one could help him. He was alone in his torment and suffering. In the evening, Sergeant Major Panin (commander of the rifle platoon) got up from the floor and went to the far corner to look at him. The sergeant sat in the corner, his head thrown back against the wall. His eyes, open and full of melancholy, were already motionless. He died from loss of blood. How could he be saved? How could you help this person? Sergeant Kozlov died in front of people, a terrible, painful death.
No one knows where his grave is now. It’s just a pity that the street where this brave soldier died was hypocritically named after the traitor Berezin, who in the summer of forty-two managed to drive the entire division into captivity to the Germans. He drove and disappeared in an unknown direction. Berezin then exposed not only the 17th Guards Division, which was completely captured, to attack, he helped the Germans deal with the 39th Army and the 11th Cavalry Corps with one blow. For these outstanding services to the Germans, our idiots in the city erected an obelisk to Berezin.
And Shershin is to blame for all this. To whitewash himself, after the war he began to glorify Berezin. They believed Shershin and erected an obelisk.
I feel sorry for the young machine gunner who died in open battle face to face with the enemy who was then fighting in the white city. Many people died there, who actually fought to the death in cold and hunger with weapons in their hands. The only thing I can’t understand is why the memory of this traitor is valued here higher than the lives and sufferings of ordinary soldiers and company officers who really fought here for our Russian land.
To the left of us, from our edge of the coast to the village itself, a wooded ridge rose. The snow-covered forest rose to the very hill and reached almost right up to the outermost houses. This is where you can enter the village completely unnoticed! And when I went out with a representative of the regiment to reconnoiter the area, they pointed out to me, when I hinted at the account of this ridge, that Berezin ordered the village to be taken in an extended chain along the open lowland!
- You will lead the company through open areas so that you can be seen from the battalion’s OP! - We prohibit the company from entering the forest!
- Strange! - I said.
- What's strange here? The division ordered - you must obey!
- Why should I let people in like living targets under German bullets? Why do soldiers need to be exposed to obvious execution? When, according to any regulations, I must use hidden approaches to the enemy! - I didn’t calm down.
- If you don’t follow the order, you’ll go to trial before the tribunal!
The regiment representative was getting ready to leave, but I couldn’t calm down. Why did they order me and my company not to enter the forest? After all, a fool understands that through the forest you can approach the village literally five steps away, and then attack with the whole company. Something is wrong here! The forest is not mined! Why are they dark? “You are ordered to conduct reconnaissance in force!” I remembered the words of the regiment representative. “We will report to the division on the progress of your advance by telephone! Berezin wants to personally know your every step!” They don’t care how many soldiers die in the open field! That's what war is for, to kill soldiers! The main thing is that the regimental command sees how the chain of soldiers will stand up and go under the bullets.
The first test strike of the Germans - and Berezin lost an entire regiment in one day. What's next? How will things go next? Berezin persistently, mercilessly and persistently instilled fear of retribution and fear in the division, and for unauthorized abandonment of positions - inevitable retribution and punishment with trials and executions. He thought that he would be able to intimidate company officers and soldiers and use fear to keep them in place. He thought that they would die under beans and tanks, and that he, Berezina, would not violate his order. He thought that the Germans would go on the offensive, like we did across the Volga, in a continuous liquid chain, and he built the defense of the regiments in one line along the straightness of the village. Now he received in full for his self-confidence and thoughtlessness.
I felt in my bones that there was no need to rush, that there was no need to give in to his persuasion. The Germans won't come here without tanks. But tanks will not go to the fire, to the fire. If we appeared on the other side now, if we caught the eye of our superiors, if all the others managed to escape and ran away, we would be blamed for the collapse of the regiment’s defense, we would be credited with starting the defeat. In such a situation, you need to find a fool or a redhead. “Runned from the mill? Yes! Abandoned his position? Abandoned! The regiment, fighting back, suffered huge losses because of you! People died because of you, alarmists!” They will blame me for my cowardice! The regiment commander will not take responsibility. He didn’t sit in the trenches, didn’t hold the defense, didn’t fight off the Germans. Now, right now, the staff and Berezin needed to find the victim and end this matter. The general himself will scour the bushes to catch the simpleton and put him under execution in order to justify himself. Today I became convinced again and again who was given the lives of hundreds and thousands of our Russian soldiers. I again saw how, led by the regiment commander, the entire pack of staff fled in fear. They saved their skins and were only capable of eating their soldiers, exposing them to tanks and bullets. And so that mortals would not grumble, they were frightened and frightened in every way. Now all this regimental riffraff abandoned their soldiers and fled into the forests. I, of course, did not know that this was general training before an even larger escape. Today I saw how, over a large area, without firing a single shot, the Germans captured an entire guards regiment of soldiers. The division's front was open throughout the entire sector. The Germans could easily move on, even without tanks. |The front line was captured, the rear of the regiment fled in panic|. The Germans encountered no resistance anywhere.
“We will always be able to leave the mill,” I said loudly so that everyone could hear. “And you, Petya, don’t rush me.” You don't have orders to leave. |On the other side they are already waiting for us to catch us and send us to the village. “Here,” they will say, “Lieutenant, smoke a cigarette.” They will treat you to Belomor. “Smoke, smoke calmly! Then you’ll take the grenades! Once you’ve smoked them, then go to the village! Tear up tanks with grenades! If you go, you’ll justify your guilt with blood!” These people have been fighting with other people's blood throughout the war. They're probably sitting in the bushes on the other side. They want to catch fools. They don't care how many. Two, five or ten. They can send two to the village. They really need this now.
I calmly looked at General Berezin. He stood three steps away from me. I looked at his face. I used to see him in passing, from a distance. Now he stood in front of me. For some reason, the order to take Demidki did not frighten me, but on the contrary, it gave me confidence and calm. Who is this man who sends us to death. In his face I must find something huge and incomprehensible. But I didn’t see or find anything special in this thin and gray face. And even, frankly speaking, I was disappointed. At first glance he looked like a village peasant. There is some kind of incomprehensible dull expression on his face. He ordered, and we unquestioningly went to our death!
The captain stood and waited for the general's instructions, and two machine gunners-bodyguards, thrusting their chests forward, satisfied with their position, looked at us, at the people from the front line, with superiority. Two groups of people stood opposite each other, waiting for something and warily searching each other with their eyes. And the dividing line between them ran invisibly along the ground.
The general looked at us and, apparently, wanted to determine whether we were capable of taking Demidki and driving the Germans out of the village. There were very few of us. And no artillery. How did it happen that he himself is running through the bushes around Demidok? The German made him circle and weave through the bushes. He has come to such a point of life that he himself has to gather soldiers and send them to the village empty-handed. “Where is the regiment commander? Where is our battalion commander Kovalev?” - flashed through my head. Now the general was convinced that the regiment commander and the battalion commander, and their deputies and poms, abandoned their soldiers and fled in panic, all over the place. The general stood and rummaged through the bushes in the hope of catching a dozen more soldiers and sending them to Demidki.
The soldiers lying in the bushes were collected from different units. There were messengers and signalmen there. In general, there were no real shooting soldiers here. Two political instructors were sitting next to each other on a hillock. They apparently managed to escape from their companies before the bombing began. The companies and company commanders were captured. Company commanders could not run away from their soldiers; they were threatened with execution for leaving their positions. The general warned everyone that he would watch the progress of the attack.
- If you sit under a hillock, you will not return to this shore alive! And don't mind! - he shouted.
It became clear to everyone that they were sent to certain death. Coming out from under the steep cliff on the other side and walking across an open field means coming under machine-gun fire. At that time there were no ditches or hummocks on the green field all the way to Demidki. Everyone hunched over and shrank from the general’s words. My Petya’s face turned white and his lips began to move. There was no turning back for anyone.
We crossed on a raft and came out under the cliff of a steep bank. The general with the machine gunners and the captain remained on the other side. None of those sitting under the cliff or those who were watching us from the other bank knew that the German tanks had left the village. Everyone thought they were there, standing behind the houses. Everyone had one thing in their heads: that the time had come to settle accounts and say goodbye to life. Nobody felt guilty.
The captain, the one who came out to meet me with Shershin, was also sitting in the forest. Shershin disappeared on the third day after my report to the general. He was taken somewhere.
-Where is Shershin? - asked the captain.
- They took me by car to the front headquarters.
- What have you heard about Berezina?
- The Germans say Berezin. - Everyone is worried about one question: when will the commander make his decision? When will the formation of our division begin? If Berezin had appeared, they would not have delayed this issue.
- Don't flatter yourself, captain! Berezin will never appear here.
- Why?
- They will give him no less than execution.
Berezin did not feel fear when eight thousand soldiers were captured by the Germans near Bely. He was afraid that he would be shot. And so he covered himself with a soldier’s overcoat and went towards the city and no one saw him again. And at the command post of the army headquarters, a car with people from counterintelligence was waiting for him. They were instructed to take him and take him where needed. I was in Bely, I know many who died there, but besides the name Berezin, as if he fought there alone, there are no other names of the guardsmen who gave their lives. But facts are stubborn things, they speak for themselves.
— 29.03.2012 I continue to read Shumilin’s notes “Vanka-company”. The author died in Soviet times, and, of course, no one would have risked publishing his memoirs then. Although they were still read by the publishing house and even wrote a review - that was how it was supposed to be. But that's not what we're talking about. Shumilin fought under the command of General Berezin. And the red thread running through his entire narrative is contempt and outright hatred for this general. It is clear that the trenchmen never favored the staff. But "Vanka-company" witnessed too many of Berezin's mistakes, which, as he claims, cost the soldiers their lives. And not even mistakes, but outright mockery and tyranny.
(On the left is a photo of Lieutenant Shumilin. In the photo on the right is General Berezin (in the center)
It is believed that Berezin died in 1942. Ordinary soldiers died in the millions, but generals rarely died, so the name of Berezin was especially honored. In Vladimir, Krasnoyarsk and the city of Bely, streets are named in his honor. An obelisk was erected for him. But I never found reliable information about the circumstances under which he died. And did he die? However, can there be anything reliable when such confusion has happened - the environment? Shumilin claimed that Berezin “in May of forty-two abandoned his guards army and disappeared, leaving eight thousand soldiers captured by the Germans.”
Soviet propaganda had a different version: “In battles with the German hordes, Major General Berezin proved himself to be a Bolshevik commander of the Red Army who had mastered modern methods of war. On January 12, 1942, the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR awarded Major General A.D. Berezin the Order of the Red Banner And on March 17 of the same year, the 119th Rifle Division was transformed into the 17th Guards Division, as Pravda wrote about on the second day.In June 1942, Major General A.D. Berezin was appointed deputy commander of the 22nd Army ... And on July 2, the Nazis went on the offensive. They unleashed a huge blow on our defenses. Some units were surrounded. General Berezin was with them. He showed them the escape route, organized a perimeter defense, outlined the breakout points, organized those who lost control. General Berezin died. In one of the documents there is an official entry made on September 22, 1942: “Did not leave the encirclement.” In the same document there is another entry dated April 28, 1944: “Excluded from the Red Army lists Army as a missing person in battles against Nazi troops in 1942." This was believed until 1966, until a group of veterans of the 17th Guards Rifle Division went to the city of Bely and began to establish the fate of Berezin. As a result of a thorough search, stories from living participants and witnesses of those battles, the presumed burial place of Berezin was established. He was probably buried by partisans."
Everything is conjecture. Presumably a man in a general's uniform was buried there. Presumably it was Berezin. But the burial place is located in Demyakhy, south of the city of Bely, and this is very far from the Myata farm, where the general was supposedly last seen. Groups under the command of both the commander of the 381st Infantry Division and Major Gorobets broke through towards Demyakh. The name of General Berezin was not mentioned there. Nevertheless, there is a grave and an obelisk for Berezina, everything is as it should be. And this contradicts the memories of some “Vanka-company”.
Perhaps Shumilin committed a cruel slander. Or I was wrong. Or maybe the company commander simply couldn’t stand the general and decided before his death to write some kind of false memoirs, in which every now and then he almost shouted: “People, you don’t know the truth! There’s no one to tell it to you, because there are almost no witnesses left!” "You read the memoirs of staff rats, but they didn't see the war! They're lying!" In the heat of the moment, the veteran could have slandered the general, it is possible. Perhaps, in fact, Berezin felt sorry for his soldiers, making sure that they did not starve or die in vain. Maybe he lived and died like a hero. Actually, a lot has been written about this - about the hero general. But Lieutenant Shumilin’s notes are now also known to readers, and by searching for “Berezin” you can find a lot in his text.
...Several years ago I came across a book by M.I. Shchedrin "The Frontier of the Great Battle". He was at that time the Chief of Staff of the 31st Army, which included our division in December 41. There was nothing similar to what Shchedrin writes about near Maryino. The Germans did not launch any counterattack and did not push back our regiments. War is 800 soldiers shot point-blank from anti-aircraft guns on December 11 near Maryino and two accidentally surviving witnesses to this bloody massacre in the snow. Shchedrin M.I. based his book on reports that came from the division. But neither Karamushko, nor Shershin and Berezin knew what happened there. The companies were left alone, face to face, under the aimed barrels of German anti-aircraft guns. Everyone who started to run was shot by them. Human bodies were torn to pieces. Here's one episode out of thousands.
War is not only a bloody mess, it is a constant hunger, when instead of food the soldier in his company received salted water mixed with a handful of flour in the form of a pale gruel. This is the cold in the frost and snow, in the stone cellars of Bely, when the ice and frost freeze the vital substance in the vertebrae.
War is exactly what they don’t talk about because they don’t know. Individuals have returned from rifle companies, from the front line, they are silent, and no one knows them! Does the War Veterans Committee know those people who passed through the companies and disappeared during the war? Are they alive or dead? Who are they and where are they lying?
This begs the question. Who of the survivors can tell about the people who fought in the companies? It’s one thing to sit under pressure away from the front line, it’s another to launch attacks and look the Germans point-blank in the eyes. War must be known from the inside, felt with every fiber of the soul. War is not at all what was written by people who did not fight in companies. They were at the front, and I was at war. For example, during the winter of 1941, I once spent the night in an unheated hut with broken windows and a door. The war passed by for Karamushka. In his memory there were heated huts, bathhouses with a steam room, pliable housewives, lard, canned food and vodka in abundance, and a carpet sleigh with a stallion at the porch, which was gnawing at the bit and spraying saliva.
In general, no matter how much we walked away from the land conquered from the Germans, it was all on the account of Karamushka and Berezin. Their arrows on the cards were worth it, and our lives and blood did not count. I walked with the soldiers in front, the regiment commander rode with the convoy behind in a carpet sleigh, and I didn’t even see Berezina on the road. On these hills were our trenches and our front trenches. Our soldiers were killed here. We left many here on Belskaya land. Now houses and new streets have appeared in these places. The streets were given new names. One of them bears the name of Berezin, an unworthy man, guilty of many things (in the defeat of our division, as a result of which the 39th Army and 11th Cavalry Corps were surrounded) and who went over to the side of the Germans.
The Germans were not fools; they did not occupy the empty and cold basement. It didn’t occur to them that they could put living people in an icy stone basement and force them to sit there for the whole winter. Our general reasoned differently and ordered half a company of soldiers to be stationed there. Do not think that I was dissatisfied with my general then. Quite the opposite. I believed him and everyone who revolved around him. Back then I took everything at face value. It is necessary, it means necessary! For our homeland, for Soviet power, we are ready to do anything! The general stuck half a company of living soldiers into an icy stone grave, and his hand did not tremble when he signed such an order. The Germans never expected that the Russians would crawl into the icy walls of the warehouse and remain there for the entire winter. Did Berezin consider his soldiers to be living people! It was empty inside, bare floor and icy walls. No stoves, no pipes. A freezer, a crypt, a grave for a living soldier. I applied several times to the battalion and directly to the regiment with a request to issue an iron stove to the company. But it was never sent until spring. The soldiers did not understand this. Lying on the floor, they writhed from the cold. There were sentries in the basement. The one who was relieved from duty |immediately| settled down to sleep. Sleep for some time relieved people from thoughts, from cold, from hunger and torment. The stone not only radiated a terrible cold, it penetrated a person to the very bones. It made my joints ache and the sockets of my eyes hurt. The cold reached [its] edge to the spine. Living bone fluid congealed in the vertebrae.
If they tried to wake up a soldier, then the wake-up began with pushing and shoving. The soldier was shaken for a long time, lifted from the floor, only after that he opened his eyes and looked in surprise at the soldiers standing above him. From the cold, everything flew out of the soldier’s memory.
When you lie on your side on |icy| stone floor, then half of the face and the entire lower part of the body freezes. She not only freezes, she goes numb. And when you need to get up, you can only move one half. The mouth and face are distorted, the neck is unnaturally bent |to one side|. The face expresses a grimace of suffering and laughter.
The mouth and face are twisted, as if the person is imitating you. Although everyone who sees this understands that this is all human torment, and not at all the grimaces and anger that can be seen on the well-fed and satisfied faces | faces of our rear guards, battalion and regimental |
Like a cold steel hoop, the icy cold presses on the head, |appears in the temples| terrible aching pain. The eyeballs don't move. If I want to look to the side, I turn my whole body there. Then, finally getting back on your feet, you begin to walk around the basement. So you gradually thaw out and give your voice.
All twenty soldiers in the basement strained their last strength, but no one complained. Great Russian people! Great Russian soldier! |And there, in the rear, our bosses were chewing pieces of lard, sipping the rich broth|.
Some soldiers had to be changed completely. The sick and wounded appeared. They were sent one by one to the flax mill. As a firing point, our basement was of no particular value. He was in every way unsuitable for our defense. He was pushed far from the main line of defense. |I was in a detached position from her|. Each shot from a narrow basement window towards the Germans resulted in new losses for our soldiers each time.
One day at dawn, machine gunner Sergeant Kozlov stood behind his machine gun. He decided to inspect the German defense line. Today he studied her especially. The night before, a machine gunner died on the trail. At night he went to the basement with a box of cartridges and carried a spare barrel for the Maxim. The sergeant was attracted to one place, on what is now Kirov Street, where the Germans were putting up a new fence along the street. Deciding to avenge his dead friend, he carefully set the sight on the machine gun and fired a long burst towards the Germans. Three Germans fell at once. Sergeant Kozlov paused in the shooting and began to observe what would happen next. After some time, three more ran up to the dead. And when he was ready to press the trigger again, two German machine guns hit the embrasure at once. A sheaf of sparks and fiery bullets burst into the basement. The sergeant did not have time to jump away from the machine gun shield; another blow of lead ricocheted and the machine gun shield rang. No one saw how his throat was cut. From the very jaw to the collarbone, his throat was torn out, as if it had been cut off from the cervical vertebra. The sergeant fell away from the machine gun, and blood gushed from his throat in all directions. His chest and face were covered in blood. When exhaling with a scream and wheezing, blood poured out, red foam bubbled over the hole. Blood flowed down his chest and dripped onto the floor. The soldiers rushed towards him, trying to bandage him. But he shook his head and tore off the bandage. He walked around the basement, wheezing and bleeding. His wild, pleading eyes sought support among us and begged for help. He rushed around the basement, shaking his head and with a crazy, soul-tearing look, looking dumbfounded into everyone's eyes. No one in the basement knew what to do.
- Go to the flax mill! - Pointing to the side window, the soldiers told him.
- You will bleed here and die! Go! Perhaps you will pass! - I told him.
He heard our voices and understood what we were talking about. He turned around every time and with one glance silenced those who were speaking. The soldiers were frozen with horror. The sergeant was dying before our eyes. He died a terrible, painful death. After a while, he came up to me and pointed to the pistol that was hanging on my belt. He asked me to shoot him with a pistol and stop his terrible torment.
- What are you talking about, dear! - I exclaimed, - I can’t do this! Here, take it yourself and go somewhere to the far corner, just don’t do it in front of your eyes. I can't! You understand, I can’t! I won’t forgive myself for this for the rest of my life!
The sergeant heard everything and understood everything, but did not take the pistol from me.
- Get out there and go to the flax mill! The Germans are sleeping now and are not watching the trail. You will pass peacefully! Listen, Sergeant! This is your only chance! Walk at full speed and don't be afraid of anything.
But he shook his head again. He did not dare to go upstairs from the basement. He did not want. He was afraid of something. He was not afraid of death. She was already standing before his eyes. He was afraid of shots. I was afraid of being shot. He snored and sprayed blood, he rushed back and forth in the basement. After a while he weakened, went to the far corner, sat down there and became quiet. No one dared to approach him. Everyone understood that he was dying, that life was leaving him, leaving slowly and forever.
He was bleeding and no one could help him. He was alone in his torment and suffering. In the evening, Sergeant Major Panin (commander of the rifle platoon) got up from the floor and went to the far corner to look at him. The sergeant sat in the corner, his head thrown back against the wall. His eyes, open and full of melancholy, were already motionless. He died from loss of blood. How could he be saved? How could you help this person? Sergeant Kozlov died in front of people, a terrible, painful death.
No one knows where his grave is now. It’s just a pity that the street where this brave soldier died was hypocritically named after the traitor Berezin, who in the summer of forty-two managed to drive the entire division into captivity to the Germans. He drove and disappeared in an unknown direction. Berezin then exposed not only the 17th Guards Division, which was completely captured, to attack, he helped the Germans deal with the 39th Army and the 11th Cavalry Corps with one blow. For these outstanding services to the Germans, our idiots in the city erected an obelisk to Berezin.
And Shershin is to blame for all this. To whitewash himself, after the war he began to glorify Berezin. They believed Shershin and erected an obelisk.
I feel sorry for the young machine gunner who died in open battle face to face with the enemy who was then fighting in the white city. Many people died there, who actually fought to the death in cold and hunger with weapons in their hands. The only thing I can’t understand is why the memory of this traitor is valued here higher than the lives and sufferings of ordinary soldiers and company officers who really fought here for our Russian land.
To the left of us, from our edge of the coast to the village itself, a wooded ridge rose. The snow-covered forest rose to the very hill and reached almost right up to the outermost houses. This is where you can enter the village completely unnoticed! And when I went out with a representative of the regiment to reconnoiter the area, they pointed out to me, when I hinted at the account of this ridge, that Berezin ordered the village to be taken in an extended chain along the open lowland!
- You will lead the company through open areas so that you can be seen from the battalion’s OP! - We prohibit the company from entering the forest!
- Strange! - I said.
- What's strange here? The division ordered - you must obey!
- Why should I let people in like living targets under German bullets? Why do soldiers need to be exposed to obvious execution? When, according to any regulations, I must use hidden approaches to the enemy! - I didn’t calm down.
- If you don’t follow the order, you’ll go to trial before the tribunal!
The regiment representative was getting ready to leave, but I couldn’t calm down. Why did they order me and my company not to enter the forest? After all, a fool understands that through the forest you can approach the village literally five steps away, and then attack with the whole company. Something is wrong here! The forest is not mined! Why are they dark? “You are ordered to conduct reconnaissance in force!” I remembered the words of the regiment representative. “We will report to the division on the progress of your advance by telephone! Berezin wants to personally know your every step!” They don’t care how many soldiers die in the open field! That's what war is for, to kill soldiers! The main thing is that the regimental command sees how the chain of soldiers will stand up and go under the bullets.
The first test strike of the Germans - and Berezin lost an entire regiment in one day. What's next? How will things go next? Berezin persistently, mercilessly and persistently instilled fear of retribution and fear in the division, and for unauthorized abandonment of positions - inevitable retribution and punishment with trials and executions. He thought that he would be able to intimidate company officers and soldiers and use fear to keep them in place. He thought that they would die under beans and tanks, and that he, Berezina, would not violate his order. He thought that the Germans would go on the offensive, like we did across the Volga, in a continuous liquid chain, and he built the defense of the regiments in one line along the straightness of the village. Now he received in full for his self-confidence and thoughtlessness.
I felt in my bones that there was no need to rush, that there was no need to give in to his persuasion. The Germans won't come here without tanks. But tanks will not go to the fire, to the fire. If we appeared on the other side now, if we caught the eye of our superiors, if all the others managed to escape and ran away, we would be blamed for the collapse of the regiment’s defense, we would be credited with starting the defeat. In such a situation, you need to find a fool or a redhead. “Runned from the mill? Yes! Abandoned his position? Abandoned! The regiment, fighting back, suffered huge losses because of you! People died because of you, alarmists!” They will blame me for my cowardice! The regiment commander will not take responsibility. He didn’t sit in the trenches, didn’t hold the defense, didn’t fight off the Germans. Now, right now, the staff and Berezin needed to find the victim and end this matter. The general himself will scour the bushes to catch the simpleton and put him under execution in order to justify himself. Today I became convinced again and again who was given the lives of hundreds and thousands of our Russian soldiers. I again saw how, led by the regiment commander, the entire pack of staff fled in fear. They saved their skins and were only capable of eating their soldiers, exposing them to tanks and bullets. And so that mortals would not grumble, they were frightened and frightened in every way. Now all this regimental riffraff abandoned their soldiers and fled into the forests. I, of course, did not know that this was general training before an even larger escape. Today I saw how, over a large area, without firing a single shot, the Germans captured an entire guards regiment of soldiers. The division's front was open throughout the entire sector. The Germans could easily move on, even without tanks. |The front line was captured, the rear of the regiment fled in panic|. The Germans encountered no resistance anywhere.
“We will always be able to leave the mill,” I said loudly so that everyone could hear. “And you, Petya, don’t rush me.” You don't have orders to leave. |On the other side they are already waiting for us to catch us and send us to the village. “Here,” they will say, “Lieutenant, smoke a cigarette.” They will treat you to Belomor. “Smoke, smoke calmly! Then you’ll take the grenades! Once you’ve smoked them, then go to the village! Tear up tanks with grenades! If you go, you’ll justify your guilt with blood!” These people have been fighting with other people's blood throughout the war. They're probably sitting in the bushes on the other side. They want to catch fools. They don't care how many. Two, five or ten. They can send two to the village. They really need this now.
I calmly looked at General Berezin. He stood three steps away from me. I looked at his face. I used to see him in passing, from a distance. Now he stood in front of me. For some reason, the order to take Demidki did not frighten me, but on the contrary, it gave me confidence and calm. Who is this man who sends us to death. In his face I must find something huge and incomprehensible. But I didn’t see or find anything special in this thin and gray face. And even, frankly speaking, I was disappointed. At first glance he looked like a village peasant. There is some kind of incomprehensible dull expression on his face. He ordered, and we unquestioningly went to our death!
The captain stood and waited for the general's instructions, and two machine gunners-bodyguards, thrusting their chests forward, satisfied with their position, looked at us, at the people from the front line, with superiority. Two groups of people stood opposite each other, waiting for something and warily searching each other with their eyes. And the dividing line between them ran invisibly along the ground.
The general looked at us and, apparently, wanted to determine whether we were capable of taking Demidki and driving the Germans out of the village. There were very few of us. And no artillery. How did it happen that he himself is running through the bushes around Demidok? The German made him circle and weave through the bushes. He has come to such a point of life that he himself has to gather soldiers and send them to the village empty-handed. “Where is the regiment commander? Where is our battalion commander Kovalev?” - flashed through my head. Now the general was convinced that the regiment commander and the battalion commander, and their deputies and poms, abandoned their soldiers and fled in panic, all over the place. The general stood and rummaged through the bushes in the hope of catching a dozen more soldiers and sending them to Demidki.
The soldiers lying in the bushes were collected from different units. There were messengers and signalmen there. In general, there were no real shooting soldiers here. Two political instructors were sitting next to each other on a hillock. They apparently managed to escape from their companies before the bombing began. The companies and company commanders were captured. Company commanders could not run away from their soldiers; they were threatened with execution for leaving their positions. The general warned everyone that he would watch the progress of the attack.
- If you sit under a hillock, you will not return to this shore alive! And don't mind! - he shouted.
It became clear to everyone that they were sent to certain death. Coming out from under the steep cliff on the other side and walking across an open field means coming under machine-gun fire. At that time there were no ditches or hummocks on the green field all the way to Demidki. Everyone hunched over and shrank from the general’s words. My Petya’s face turned white and his lips began to move. There was no turning back for anyone.
We crossed on a raft and came out under the cliff of a steep bank. The general with the machine gunners and the captain remained on the other side. None of those sitting under the cliff or those who were watching us from the other bank knew that the German tanks had left the village. Everyone thought they were there, standing behind the houses. Everyone had one thing in their heads: that the time had come to settle accounts and say goodbye to life. Nobody felt guilty.
The captain, the one who came out to meet me with Shershin, was also sitting in the forest. Shershin disappeared on the third day after my report to the general. He was taken somewhere.
-Where is Shershin? - asked the captain.
- They took me by car to the front headquarters.
- What have you heard about Berezina?
- The Germans say Berezin. - Everyone is worried about one question: when will the commander make his decision? When will the formation of our division begin? If Berezin had appeared, they would not have delayed this issue.
- Don't flatter yourself, captain! Berezin will never appear here.
- Why?
- They will give him no less than execution.
Berezin did not feel fear when eight thousand soldiers were captured by the Germans near Bely. He was afraid that he would be shot. And so he covered himself with a soldier’s overcoat and went towards the city and no one saw him again. And at the command post of the army headquarters, a car with people from counterintelligence was waiting for him. They were instructed to take him and take him where needed. I was in Bely, I know many who died there, but besides the name Berezin, as if he fought there alone, there are no other names of the guardsmen who gave their lives. But facts are stubborn things, they speak for themselves.
, Major General (1958)
Biography
Born in the city of Yelets. Russian.
Before serving in the army, Berezin worked as an electrician at a power plant in the city of Yelets from March 1927 to April 1931, then was secretary of the Komsomol organization of the Yelets Lime Plant, and from August 1931 - head. mass economic department of the Yelets district committee of the Komsomol, since November - instructor and chairman of the district committee of the Komsomol in the Yelets Kuspromsoyuz.
Military service
On June 1, 1932, following a special recruitment of the Central Committee of the All-Union Communist Party of Bolsheviks, he entered the Leningrad School of Communications as a cadet. Lensovet. Upon graduation in November 1934, he was assigned to the 20th Mountain Rifle Division of the ZakVO in the city of Leninakan, where he served as commander of the headquarters company of a separate communications battalion.
Since October 1936 - commander of a communications company and chief of communications of the 60th Mountain Rifle Regiment.
In May 1939, he passed the test and was enrolled as a student at the Military Academy of the Red Army named after. M. V. Frunze. In September 1940, he was transferred to the special faculty of the academy, on the basis of which the Higher Special School of the General Staff of the Red Army was then formed, and Berezin was enrolled in it as a 2nd year student of the 1st faculty.
The Great Patriotic War
With the outbreak of war, Captain Berezin in August 1941, from the 3rd year, was sent to the headquarters of the 54th Army, newly formed in the Moscow District, to the position of senior assistant to the chief of the operations department. After the formation was completed, the army departed to the northwestern direction and took up defense along the right bank of the Volkhov River. On September 26, it became part of the Leningrad Front and fought in the Kolpino area, participating in the operation to break the blockade of Leningrad. In the second half of October - December, its troops took part in the Tikhvin defensive and offensive operations.
In December 1941, Captain Berezin was appointed chief of staff of the 80th Infantry Division. As part of the 54th Army, he participated with it in the Lyuban offensive operation. Its units fought against the enemy’s Voybokal group, which was trying to cut the railway. in the Shum, Voybokalo area, then advanced in the direction of Pogostye. From April 26 to September 26, 1942, the division as part of the army was on the defensive at the Makaryevskaya Pustyn - Smerdynya line. From September 29, it was subordinated to the 8th Army of the Volkhov Front and participated in the Sinyavinsk defensive operation, fighting on the Gaitolovo-Tortolovo line. From January 23, 1943, its units as part of the 2nd Shock Army took part in the operation to break the blockade of Leningrad, but in the very first battles they suffered significant losses and were unable to complete the task. After stubborn battles in Sinyavinsk in March - April 1943, the division was in the reserve of the Volkhov Front, then became part of the 54th Army and defended the line in the area of Larionov Ostrov, Posadnikov Ostrov, Nov. Kirishi. From October 5 to October 25, she fought offensive battles to break through the German defenses in the Didvino area, then defended the Makaryevskaya Pustyn - Yegoryevka line.
On November 7, 1943, Lieutenant Colonel Berezin was appointed chief of staff of the 111th Rifle Corps and participated with him in the Leningrad-Novgorod offensive operation.
On June 19, 1944, Colonel Berezin was allowed to command the 288th Infantry Division. From July 7 to July 11, it was redeployed to the Khverschi area (northeast of the Pushkin Mountains), where, together with the 122nd Tank Brigade from the line of the Velikaya River, it was introduced into the breakthrough, forming a mobile group of the 54th Army of the 3rd Baltic Front. Swiftly pursuing the retreating enemy, its units captured the city of Krasnogorodskoye on July 18, crossed the Lzha River and launched an offensive on Gulbene. On July 24, near the city of Balvy in Latvia, Colonel Berezin was wounded and was in the hospital until September 19, then again commanded the 288th Infantry Division. After 2 days, its units from the Valga region began pursuing the enemy in the general direction of Daksty - Valmiera, crossed the Seda River on the move and captured the city of Daksty, destroying up to two enemy regiments. On September 24, they burst into the city of Valmiera at night and took it by storm, after which they pursued the enemy in the direction of Riga. On October 8, the 288th Infantry Division became part of the 42nd Army and was transferred to the area southeast of Dobele, and from there launched an attack on Saldus. By November 1, it reached the line of lakes Svetes - Aatses and went on the defensive. In March - April 1945, the division as part of the 22nd Army of the 2nd Baltic Front, and from April 1 - Leningrad Front, fought in the Saldus direction, until the surrender of the enemy Courland group.
Post-war career
After the war in October 1945, the division was disbanded, and Colonel Berezin was placed at the disposal of the GUK NKO.
From February 1946 to May 1948 he studied at the Higher Military Academy named after. K.E. Voroshilov, then served in the operational directorate of the Main Directorate of the General Staff of the USSR Armed Forces as a senior officer operator of the southwestern direction, from February 1950 - deputy. head of the internal districts department. Since May 1953, he served as deputy. Head of the Directorate of Staffing and Troop Service of the Main Directorate of the General Staff of the Soviet Army. From March 1955 he served in the General Staff of the Ground Forces as deputy head of the Troop Recruitment and Service Directorate, and from September 1960 - head of the Mobilization Directorate. Since April 1964, Major General Berezin was deputy chief, and since January 1968, head of the Mobilization Directorate of the State Medical Directorate of the General Staff of the USSR Armed Forces.
By decree of the President of the Russian Federation of May 4, 1995, retired Major General Berezin was awarded the Order of Zhukov.
Died in 1997. He was buried in the city of Moscow.
Awards
USSR
- Order of Zhukov (05/04/1995)
- four Orders of the Red Banner (03/19/1943, 02/11/1944, 10/15/1944, 1952)
USSR USSR
Alexander Dmitrievich Berezin(1895, Vladimir - July 5, 1942, village of Demyakhi, Smolensk region) - Soviet military leader, major general.
Initial biography
Alexander Dmitrievich Berezin was born in 1895 in Vladimir into a working-class family.
I passed my high school exams as an external student.
Military service
World War I and Civil War
The Great Patriotic War
In December, the division distinguished itself by participating in the Kalinin offensive operation, during which it crossed the Volga and, having organized a bridgehead, along with other formations, liberated the city of Kalinin. For the successful participation of the division, it was awarded the title of Guards.
The former commander of the 31st Army, Vasily Dalmatov, wrote in his book “The Frontier of the Great Battle”:
“I can’t help but remember the 119th Krasnoyarsk Rifle Division, which wrote more than one bright page in the chronicle of the heroic struggle of the Red Army against superior enemy forces in 1941. Siberians showed an example of selfless devotion to the Motherland, examples of courage and bravery. The division was commanded by General A.D. Berezin. The Siberian division was one of the first to be awarded the title of 17th Guards in March.”
In January 1942, Alexander Berezin was awarded the Order of the Red Banner.
On June 6, 1942 he was transferred to the headquarters of the 41st Army.
He died on July 5, 1942 and was buried in a military grave near the village of Demyakhi, Belsky District, now Tver Region. Identified from surviving documents and the Order of the Red Banner.
Ratings and opinions
In the front-line memoirs of Shumilin A.I. “” there is an alternative description of Berezin’s actions during the Second World War. They more than once mention the role of Berezin and his methods of command and control. Shumilin A.I. was a company commander in the Berezin division. Shumilin has repeatedly pointed out that Berezin bears personal responsibility for the fact that “ eight thousand soldiers were captured by the Germans near Bely. He was afraid that he would be shot. And therefore, he covered himself with a soldier’s overcoat and went towards the city and no one saw him again.”
Memory
In 1985, in honor of the 40th anniversary of the Victory, in Vladimir the former Svyazi passage was renamed into A.D. Berezin Street.
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An excerpt characterizing Berezin, Alexander Dmitrievich
The Countess looked at her daughter, saw her face ashamed of her mother, saw her excitement, understood why her husband was now not looking back at her, and looked around her with a confused look.- Oh, do as you want! Am I disturbing anyone? – she said, not yet suddenly giving up.
- Mama, my dear, forgive me!
But the countess pushed her daughter away and approached the count.
“Mon cher, you do the right thing... I don’t know that,” she said, lowering her eyes guiltily.
“Eggs... eggs teach a hen...” the count said through happy tears and hugged his wife, who was glad to hide her ashamed face on his chest.
- Daddy, mummy! Can I make arrangements? Is it possible?.. – Natasha asked. “We’ll still take everything we need…” Natasha said.
The Count nodded his head affirmatively at her, and Natasha, with the same quick run as she used to run into the burners, ran across the hall to the hallway and up the stairs to the courtyard.
People gathered around Natasha and until then could not believe the strange order that she conveyed, until the count himself, in the name of his wife, confirmed the order that all carts should be given to the wounded, and chests should be taken to storerooms. Having understood the order, people happily and busily set about the new task. Now not only did it not seem strange to the servants, but, on the contrary, it seemed that it could not be otherwise, just as a quarter of an hour before it not only did not seem strange to anyone that they were leaving the wounded and taking things, but it seemed that it couldn't be otherwise.
All the household, as if paying for the fact that they had not taken up this task earlier, busily began the new task of housing the wounded. The wounded crawled out of their rooms and surrounded the carts with joyful, pale faces. Rumors also spread in the neighboring houses that there were carts, and the wounded from other houses began to come to the Rostovs’ yard. Many of the wounded asked not to take off their things and only put them on top. But once the business of dumping things had begun, it could not stop. It didn't matter whether to leave everything or half. In the yard lay untidy chests with dishes, bronze, paintings, mirrors, which they had so carefully packed last night, and they kept looking for and finding an opportunity to put this and that and give away more and more carts.
“You can still take four,” said the manager, “I’m giving away my cart, otherwise where will they go?”
“Give me my dressing room,” said the countess. - Dunyasha will get into the carriage with me.
They also gave away a dressing cart and sent it to pick up the wounded two houses away. All the household and servants were cheerfully animated. Natasha was in an enthusiastically happy revival, which she had not experienced for a long time.
-Where should I tie him? - people said, adjusting the chest to the narrow back of the carriage, - we must leave at least one cart.
- What is he with? – Natasha asked.
- With the count's books.
- Leave it. Vasilich will clean it up. It is not necessary.
The chaise was full of people; doubted about where Pyotr Ilyich would sit.
- He's on the goat. Are you a jerk, Petya? – Natasha shouted.
Sonya kept busy too; but the goal of her efforts was the opposite of Natasha’s goal. She put away those things that were supposed to remain; I wrote them down, at the countess’s request, and tried to take with me as many as possible.
In the second hour, the four Rostov carriages, loaded and stowed, stood at the entrance. The carts with the wounded rolled out of the yard one after another.
The carriage in which Prince Andrei was carried, passing by the porch, attracted the attention of Sonya, who, together with the girl, was arranging seats for the countess in her huge tall carriage, which stood at the entrance.
– Whose stroller is this? – Sonya asked, leaning out of the carriage window.
“Didn’t you know, young lady?” - answered the maid. - The prince is wounded: he spent the night with us and is also coming with us.
- Who is this? What's the last name?
– Our very former groom, Prince Bolkonsky! – sighing, answered the maid. - They say he is dying.
Sonya jumped out of the carriage and ran to the Countess. The countess, already dressed for the trip, in a shawl and hat, tired, walked around the living room, waiting for her family in order to sit with the doors closed and pray before leaving. Natasha was not in the room.
“Maman,” said Sonya, “Prince Andrei is here, wounded, near death.” He's coming with us.
The Countess opened her eyes in fear and, grabbing Sonya’s hand, looked around.
- Natasha? - she said.
For both Sonya and the Countess, this news had only one meaning at first. They knew their Natasha, and the horror of what would happen to her at this news drowned out for them all sympathy for the person they both loved.
– Natasha doesn’t know yet; but he’s coming with us,” said Sonya.
- Are you talking about death?
Sonya nodded her head.
The Countess hugged Sonya and began to cry.
"God works in mysterious ways!" - she thought, feeling that in everything that was done now, an omnipotent hand, previously hidden from people’s view, began to appear.
- Well, mom, everything is ready. What are you talking about?.. – Natasha asked with a lively face, running into the room.
“Nothing,” said the Countess. - It's ready, let's go. – And the countess bent down to her reticule to hide her upset face. Sonya hugged Natasha and kissed her.
Natasha looked at her questioningly.
- What you? What happened?
- There is nothing…
- Very bad for me?.. What is it? – asked the sensitive Natasha.
Sonya sighed and did not answer. The Count, Petya, m me Schoss, Mavra Kuzminishna, Vasilich entered the living room, and, having closed the doors, they all sat down and sat silently, without looking at each other, for several seconds.