On May 9th, for the last seven years, I know exactly where I've been - Gorky Park, Moscow. I go to honor the last of a generation of Russian veterans who served in the Great Patriotic War. The weathering of time has softened once youthful faces, creating an aura of kindness, gentleness, and a deep wisdom born of painful memories they endured and I can scarcely imagine.
Who were these people 70 years ago, when the war was brewing, but had not yet transformed their lives, snatched up their dreams, dictated their futures? How did they, how does anyone faced with years of violence, starvation, fear and death cope? Beyond handing them a bar of chocolate or a red carnation, how could I ever appreciate the medals on their chests and learn lessons from their stories? I needed a personal connection.
Sitting at a small wooden table, removed from more boisterous gatherings of veterans lifting glasses and proposing toasts, a man sat quietly with a bouquet of flowers lying before him and a young man standing behind.
The medals pinned to the lapels and chest of his black suit gleamed in the sun. I took a chance that the young man might speak English. I introduced myself; the veteran rose from his chair to shake my hand. "His name is Pytor (Peter) Mikhailovich Striganov, and I am his grandson," the younger one explained with a broad smile. I gave Peter a carnation and asked if I could take their picture. Andrei, a Russian friend, joined us and added to the grandson's limited English, to translate pieces of Peter's war story.
"He was 17 when he enlisted. He was forced to go. He did not want to. He told the soldiers who came to their farm, 'No, I cannot leave my mother and 5 sisters. They need me to work, to make money, to help take care of them.' Five hundred other men enlisted from his town; my grandfather is the only one who survived the war. He is 86 now, will be 87 in August. He was an officer in the tank division on the front lines. He was shot one time. He was, also, a spy. He would go in the enemy rear and capture German officers and bring them back for interrogation. One time a German officer tried to escape capture from my grandfather. He pulled the pin on a hand grenade and my grandfather got the grenade from him and stopped it from going off." (Exactly how this happened was unclear in the translation.) "He gagged the officer, tied him up and took him back for interrogation."
In animated Russian, Peter added, "I am still healthy. No smoking, no drinking. I walk one kilometer a day."
Andrei asked Peter to sign a book, Victory Day by James Hill, filled with photos taken of many of the veterans who return to Gorky Park on May 9. In the two years since the book was published, several of the veterans in the photos have died. After signing it, Peter announced, "I will be back until I am 100!"
As long as he and other veterans return, so will their families, friends and strangers like me, grateful for the connection to these inspiring people . . . who remind us of the devastations of war and the fragility of peace.
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| Refer to earlier story written about "The Lady in Red." |
Who were these people 70 years ago, when the war was brewing, but had not yet transformed their lives, snatched up their dreams, dictated their futures? How did they, how does anyone faced with years of violence, starvation, fear and death cope? Beyond handing them a bar of chocolate or a red carnation, how could I ever appreciate the medals on their chests and learn lessons from their stories? I needed a personal connection.
Sitting at a small wooden table, removed from more boisterous gatherings of veterans lifting glasses and proposing toasts, a man sat quietly with a bouquet of flowers lying before him and a young man standing behind.
"He was 17 when he enlisted. He was forced to go. He did not want to. He told the soldiers who came to their farm, 'No, I cannot leave my mother and 5 sisters. They need me to work, to make money, to help take care of them.' Five hundred other men enlisted from his town; my grandfather is the only one who survived the war. He is 86 now, will be 87 in August. He was an officer in the tank division on the front lines. He was shot one time. He was, also, a spy. He would go in the enemy rear and capture German officers and bring them back for interrogation. One time a German officer tried to escape capture from my grandfather. He pulled the pin on a hand grenade and my grandfather got the grenade from him and stopped it from going off." (Exactly how this happened was unclear in the translation.) "He gagged the officer, tied him up and took him back for interrogation."
In animated Russian, Peter added, "I am still healthy. No smoking, no drinking. I walk one kilometer a day."
Andrei asked Peter to sign a book, Victory Day by James Hill, filled with photos taken of many of the veterans who return to Gorky Park on May 9. In the two years since the book was published, several of the veterans in the photos have died. After signing it, Peter announced, "I will be back until I am 100!"
As long as he and other veterans return, so will their families, friends and strangers like me, grateful for the connection to these inspiring people . . . who remind us of the devastations of war and the fragility of peace.
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