They were shot at dawn
When the darkness was still white.
There were women and children
And there was this girl.
First they were told to undress
And then stand with your back to the ditch,
But suddenly a child's voice sounded
Naive, pure and lively:
Should I take off my stockings too, uncle?
Without judging, without scolding,
Looked straight into your soul
Three-year-old girl's eyes.
“Stockings too” - and the SS man was momentarily overcome with confusion
The hand suddenly lowers the machine gun with excitement.
He seems to be shackled with a blue gaze, and he seems to have grown into the ground,
Eyes like my daughter's? - He said in great confusion.
He was involuntarily seized with trembling,
My soul woke up in horror.
No, he can't kill her
But he gave his turn in a hurry.
A girl in stockings fell...
I didn’t have time to take it off, I couldn’t.
Soldier, soldier, what if my daughter
Here, like this, yours lay down...
After all, this is a small heart
Pierced by your bullet...
You are a Man, not just a German
Or are you a beast among people...
The SS man walked sullenly,
Without raising your eyes from the ground,
for the first time maybe this thought
It lit up in the poisoned brain.
And everywhere the look flows blue,
And everywhere it is heard again,
And will not be forgotten to this day:
“Uncle, should you take off your stockings too?”
Musa Jalil
The events that will be discussed took place in the winter of 1943–44, when the Nazis made a brutal decision: to use the pupils of Polotsk orphanage No. 1 as donors. The wounded German soldiers needed blood. Where can I get it? In children. The first to defend the boys and girls was the director of the orphanage, Mikhail Stepanovich Forinko. Of course, for the occupiers, pity, compassion and, in general, the very fact of such atrocity had no meaning, so it was immediately clear: these are not arguments. But the reasoning became significant: how can sick and hungry children give good blood? No way. They do not have enough vitamins or at least iron in their blood. In addition, there is no firewood in the orphanage, the windows are broken, and it is very cold. Children catch colds all the time, and sick people - what kind of donors are they?
Children should be treated and fed first, and only then used. The German command agreed with this “logical” decision. Mikhail Stepanovich proposed to transfer the children and staff of the orphanage to the village of Belchitsy, where there was a strong German garrison. And again, the iron, heartless logic worked. The first, disguised step towards saving the children was taken... And then large, thorough preparations began. The children had to be transferred to the partisan zone and then transported by plane. And so, on the night of February 18-19, 1944, 154 pupils of the orphanage, 38 of their teachers, as well as members of the underground group “Fearless” with their families and partisans of the Shchors detachment of the Chapaev brigade left the village. 
The children ranged from three to fourteen years old. And that’s it – that’s it! – they were silent, afraid to even breathe. The older ones carried the younger ones. Those who did not have warm clothes were wrapped in scarves and blankets. Even three-year-old children understood the mortal danger - and remained silent...
In case the Nazis understood everything and went in pursuit, partisans were on duty near the village, ready to fight. And in the forest, a sleigh train - thirty carts - was waiting for the children. The pilots helped a lot. On the fateful night, knowing about the operation, they circled over Belchitsy, diverting the attention of the enemies. The kids were warned: if flares suddenly appear in the sky, they must immediately sit down and not move. During the journey, the column landed several times. Everyone reached the deep partisan rear. Now the children had to be evacuated behind the front line. This had to be done as quickly as possible, because the Germans immediately discovered the “loss.” Being with the partisans became more and more dangerous every day. 
But the 3rd Air Army came to the rescue, the pilots began to take out children and the wounded, while simultaneously delivering ammunition to the partisans. Two planes were allocated, and special cradled capsules were attached under their wings, which could accommodate several additional people. Plus, the pilots took off without navigators - this place was also saved for passengers. In general, more than five hundred people were taken out during the operation. But now we will talk about only one flight, the very last one. 
At first everything went well, but when approaching the front line, Mamkin’s plane was shot down. The front line was left behind, and the P-5 was burning... If Mamkin had been alone on board, he would have gained altitude and jumped out with a parachute. But he was not flying alone. And he was not going to let the boys and girls die. It was not for this reason that they, who had just begun to live, escaped the Nazis on foot at night in order to break up. And Mamkin was flying the plane... The flames reached the cockpit. The temperature melted the flight goggles, sticking to the skin. Clothes and a headset were burning; it was hard to see in the smoke and fire. Little by little, only bones remained of the legs. And there, behind the pilot, there was crying. The children were afraid of fire, they did not want to die. And Alexander Petrovich flew the plane almost blindly. Overcoming hellish pain, already, one might say, legless, he still stood firmly between the children and death. Mamkin found a site on the shore of a lake, not far from Soviet units. The partition that separated him from the passengers had already burned through, and the clothes on some of them had begun to smolder. 
But death, swinging its scythe over the children, could not bring it down. Mamkin didn’t give it. All passengers survived. Alexander Petrovich, in a completely incomprehensible way, was able to get out of the cabin himself. He managed to ask: “Are the children alive?” And I heard the voice of the boy Volodya Shishkov: “Comrade pilot, don’t worry! I opened the door, everyone is alive, let’s go out...” And Mamkin lost consciousness. The doctors were still unable to explain how a man could drive a car and even land it safely, with glasses melted into his face and only bones left from his legs? How was he able to overcome the pain and shock, with what efforts did he maintain his consciousness? The hero was buried in the village of Maklok in the Smolensk region. From that day on, all the fighting friends of Alexander Petrovich, meeting under a peaceful sky, drank the first toast “To Sasha!”... To Sasha, who grew up without a father from the age of two and remembered his childhood grief very well. For Sasha, who loved boys and girls with all his heart. For Sasha, who bore the last name Mamkin and himself, like a mother, gave life to the children. 
The events that will be discussed took place in the winter of 1943–44, when the Nazis made a brutal decision: to use the pupils of Polotsk orphanage No. 1 as donors. German wounded soldiers needed...
The events that will be discussed took place in the winter of 1943–44, when the Nazis made a brutal decision: to use the pupils of Polotsk orphanage No. 1 as donors. German wounded soldiers needed blood. Where can I get it? In children...
They were shot at dawn
When the darkness was still white.
There were women and children
And there was this girl.
First they were told to undress
And then stand with your back to the ditch,
Naive, pure and lively:
Should I take off my stockings too, uncle?
Without judging, without scolding,
Looked straight into your soul
Three-year-old girl's eyes.
“Stockings too” - and the SS man was momentarily overcome with confusion
The hand suddenly lowers the machine gun with excitement.
He seems to be shackled by a blue gaze,
and it seems he has grown into the ground,
Eyes like my daughter's? - He said in great confusion.
He was involuntarily seized with trembling,
My soul woke up in horror.
No, he can't kill her
But he gave his turn in a hurry.
A girl in stockings fell...
I didn’t have time to take it off, I couldn’t.
Soldier, soldier, what if my daughter
Here, like this, yours lay down...
After all, this is a small heart
Pierced by your bullet...
You are a Man, not just a German
Or are you a beast among people...
The SS man walked sullenly,
Without raising your eyes from the ground,
for the first time maybe this thought
It lit up in the poisoned brain.
And everywhere the look flows blue,
And everywhere it is heard again,
And will not be forgotten to this day:
Uncle, should you take off your stockings too?
Musa Jalil
The first to defend the boys and girls was the director of the orphanage, Mikhail Stepanovich Forinko. Of course, for the occupiers, pity, compassion and, in general, the very fact of such atrocity had no meaning, so it was immediately clear: these are not arguments. But the reasoning became significant: how can sick and hungry children give good blood? No way.
They do not have enough vitamins or at least iron in their blood. In addition, there is no firewood in the orphanage, the windows are broken, and it is very cold. Children catch colds all the time, and sick people - what kind of donors are they? Children should be treated and fed first, and only then used. The German command agreed with this “logical” decision. Mikhail Stepanovich proposed to transfer the children and staff of the orphanage to the village of Belchitsy, where there was a strong German garrison. And again, the iron, heartless logic worked. The first, disguised step towards saving the children was taken... And then large, thorough preparations began. The children had to be transferred to the partisan zone and then transported by plane. And so, on the night of February 18-19, 1944, 154 pupils of the orphanage, 38 of their teachers, as well as members of the underground group “Fearless” with their families and partisans of the Shchors detachment of the Chapaev brigade left the village. The children ranged from three to fourteen years old.
And that’s it – that’s it! – they were silent, afraid to even breathe. The older ones carried the younger ones. Those who did not have warm clothes were wrapped in scarves and blankets. Even three-year-old children understood the mortal danger - and remained silent... In case the Nazis understood everything and went in pursuit, partisans were on duty near the village, ready to join the battle. And in the forest, a sleigh train - thirty carts - was waiting for the children. The pilots helped a lot. On the fateful night, knowing about the operation, they circled over Belchitsy, diverting the attention of the enemies. The kids were warned: if flares suddenly appear in the sky, they must immediately sit down and not move. During the journey, the column landed several times. Everyone reached the deep partisan rear.
sssr_cccr They were shot at dawnOriginal taken from matveychev_oleg They were shot at dawn
The events that will be discussed took place in the winter of 1943-44, when the Nazis made a brutal decision: to use the pupils of Polotsk orphanage No. 1 as donors. German wounded soldiers needed blood.
Where can I get it? In children. The first to defend the boys and girls was the director of the orphanage, Mikhail Stepanovich Forinko. Of course, for the occupiers, pity, compassion and, in general, the very fact of such atrocity had no meaning, so it was immediately clear: these are not arguments.
But the reasoning became significant: how can sick and hungry children give good blood? No way. They do not have enough vitamins or at least iron in their blood. In addition, there is no firewood in the orphanage, the windows are broken, and it is very cold. Children catch colds all the time, and sick people - what kind of donors are they?
Children should be treated and fed first, and only then used. The German command agreed with this “logical” decision. Mikhail Stepanovich proposed to transfer the children and staff of the orphanage to the village of Belchitsy, where there was a strong German garrison. And again, the iron, heartless logic worked.
The first, disguised step towards saving the children was taken... And then large, thorough preparations began. The children had to be transferred to the partisan zone and then transported by plane.
And so, on the night of February 18-19, 1944, 154 pupils of the orphanage, 38 of their teachers, as well as members of the underground group “Fearless” with their families and partisans of the Shchors detachment of the Chapaev brigade left the village.
The children ranged from three to fourteen years old. And that's all! - they were silent, afraid to even breathe. The older ones carried the younger ones. Those who did not have warm clothes were wrapped in scarves and blankets. Even three-year-old children understood the mortal danger - and remained silent...
In case the Nazis understood everything and went in pursuit, partisans were on duty near the village, ready to fight. And in the forest, a sleigh train - thirty carts - was waiting for the children. The pilots helped a lot. On the fateful night, knowing about the operation, they circled over Belchitsy, diverting the attention of the enemies.
The kids were warned: if flares suddenly appear in the sky, they must immediately sit down and not move. During the journey, the column landed several times. Everyone reached the deep partisan rear.
Now the children had to be evacuated behind the front line. This had to be done as quickly as possible, because the Germans immediately discovered the “loss.” Being with the partisans became more and more dangerous every day. But the 3rd Air Army came to the rescue, the pilots began to take out children and the wounded, while simultaneously delivering ammunition to the partisans.
Two planes were allocated, and special cradled capsules were attached under their wings, which could accommodate several additional people. Plus, the pilots took off without navigators - this place was also saved for passengers. In general, more than five hundred people were taken out during the operation. But now we will talk about only one flight, the very last one.
It took place on the night of April 10-11, 1944. Guard Lieutenant Alexander Mamkin was taking the children. He was 28 years old. A native of the village of Krestyanskoye, Voronezh region, a graduate of the Oryol Financial and Economic College and the Balashov School.
By the time of the events in question, Mamkin was already an experienced pilot. He has at least seventy night flights behind German lines. That flight was not his first in this operation (it was called “Zvezdochka”), but his ninth. Lake Vecelye was used as an airfield. We also had to hurry because the ice became more and more unreliable every day. The R-5 plane carried ten children, their teacher Valentina Latko and two wounded partisans.
At first everything went well, but when approaching the front line, Mamkin’s plane was shot down. The front line was left behind, and the P-5 was burning... If Mamkin had been alone on board, he would have gained altitude and jumped out with a parachute. But he was not flying alone. And he was not going to let the boys and girls die. It was not for this reason that they, who had just begun to live, escaped from the Nazis on foot at night in order to crash.
And Mamkin was flying the plane... The flames reached the cockpit. The temperature melted the flight goggles, sticking to the skin. Clothes and a headset were burning; it was hard to see in the smoke and fire. Little by little, only bones remained of the legs. And there, behind the pilot, there was crying. The children were afraid of fire, they did not want to die.
And Alexander Petrovich flew the plane almost blindly. Overcoming hellish pain, already, one might say, legless, he still stood firmly between the children and death. Mamkin found a site on the shore of a lake, not far from Soviet units. The partition that separated him from the passengers had already burned through, and the clothes on some of them had begun to smolder.
But death, swinging its scythe over the children, could not bring it down. Mamkin didn’t give it. All passengers survived. Alexander Petrovich, in a completely incomprehensible way, was able to get out of the cabin himself. He managed to ask: “Are the children alive?”
And I heard the voice of the boy Volodya Shishkov: “Comrade pilot, don’t worry! I opened the door, everyone is alive, let’s go out...” And Mamkin lost consciousness. The doctors were still unable to explain how a man could drive a car and even land it safely, with glasses melted into his face and only bones left from his legs?
How was he able to overcome the pain and shock, with what efforts did he maintain his consciousness? The hero was buried in the village of Maklok in the Smolensk region. From that day on, all the fighting friends of Alexander Petrovich, meeting under a peaceful sky, drank the first toast “To Sasha!”... To Sasha, who grew up without a father from the age of two and remembered his childhood grief very well. For Sasha, who loved boys and girls with all his heart. For Sasha, who bore the last name Mamkin and himself, like a mother, gave life to the children.
They were shot at dawn
When the darkness was still white.
There were women and children
And there was this girl.
First they were told to undress
And then stand with your back to the ditch,
But suddenly a child's voice sounded
Naive, pure and lively:
Should I take off my stockings too, uncle?
Without judging, without scolding,
Looked straight into your soul
Three-year-old girl's eyes.
“Stockings too,” and the SS man was momentarily overcome with confusion
The hand suddenly lowers the machine gun with excitement.
He seems to be shackled with a blue gaze, and he seems to have grown into the ground,
Eyes like my daughter's? - he said in great confusion.
He was involuntarily seized with trembling,
My soul woke up in horror.
No, he can't kill her
But he gave his turn in a hurry.
A girl in stockings fell...
I didn’t have time to take it off, I couldn’t.
Soldier, soldier, what if before chka
Here, like this, yours lay down...
After all, this is a small heart
Pierced by your bullet...
You are a Man, not just a German
Or are you a beast among people...
The SS man walked sullenly,
Without raising your eyes from the ground,
for the first time maybe this thought
It lit up in the poisoned brain.
And everywhere the look flows blue,
And everywhere it is heard again,
And will not be forgotten to this day:
Uncle, should you take off your stockings too?”
Musa Jalil
The events that will be discussed took place in the winter of 1943–44, when the Nazis made a brutal decision: to use the pupils of Polotsk orphanage No. 1 as donors.
The wounded German soldiers needed blood.
Where can I get it? In children.
They were shot at dawn
When the darkness was still white.
There were women and children
And there was this girl.
First they were told to undress
And then stand with your back to the ditch,
But suddenly a child's voice sounded
Naive, pure and lively:
“Should I take off my stockings too, uncle?”
Without judging, without scolding,
Looked straight into your soul
Three-year-old girl's eyes.
“Stockings too,” and the SS man was momentarily overcome with confusion
The hand suddenly lowers the machine gun with excitement.
He seems to be shackled with a blue gaze, and he seems to have grown into the ground,
"Eyes like my daughter's?" - He said in great confusion.
He was involuntarily seized with trembling,
My soul woke up in horror.
No, he can't kill her
But he gave his turn in a hurry.
A girl in stockings fell...
I didn’t have time to take it off, I couldn’t.
Soldier, soldier, what if my daughter
Here, like this, yours lay down...
After all, this is a small heart
Pierced by your bullet...
You are a Man, not just a German
Or are you a beast among people...
The SS man walked sullenly,
Without raising your eyes from the ground,
for the first time maybe this thought
It lit up in the poisoned brain.
And everywhere the look flows blue,
And everywhere it is heard again,
And will not be forgotten to this day:
“Uncle, should you take off your stockings too?”
Musa Jalil
The first to defend the boys and girls was the director of the orphanage, Mikhail Stepanovich Forinko.
Of course, for the occupiers, pity, compassion and, in general, the very fact of such atrocities had no meaning, so it was immediately clear: these are not arguments.
But the reasoning became significant: how can sick and hungry children give good blood? No way.
They do not have enough vitamins or at least iron in their blood.
In addition, there is no firewood in the orphanage, the windows are broken, and it is very cold.
Children catch colds all the time, and sick people - what kind of donors are they?
Children should be treated and fed first, and only then used.
The German command agreed with this “logical” decision. Mikhail Stepanovich proposed to transfer the children and staff of the orphanage to the village of Belchitsy, where there was a strong German garrison.
And again, the iron, heartless logic worked.
The first, disguised step towards saving the children was taken...
And then a lot of careful preparation began. The children had to be transferred to the partisan zone and then transported by plane.
And so, on the night of February 18-19, 1944, 154 pupils of the orphanage, 38 of their teachers, as well as members of the underground group “Fearless” with their families and partisans of the Shchors detachment of the Chapaev brigade left the village.
The children ranged from three to fourteen years old.
And that’s it – that’s it! – they were silent, afraid to even breathe.
The older ones carried the younger ones.
Those who did not have warm clothes were wrapped in scarves and blankets.
Even three-year-old children understood the mortal danger - and remained silent...
In case the Nazis understood everything and went in pursuit, partisans were on duty near the village, ready to fight.
And in the forest, a sleigh train - thirty carts - was waiting for the children. The pilots helped a lot.
On the fateful night, knowing about the operation, they circled over Belchitsy, diverting the attention of the enemies. The kids were warned: if flares suddenly appear in the sky, they must immediately sit down and not move.
During the journey, the column landed several times.
Everyone reached the deep partisan rear.
Now the children had to be evacuated behind the front line.
This had to be done as quickly as possible, because the Germans immediately discovered the “loss”. Being with the partisans became more and more dangerous every day.
But the 3rd Air Army came to the rescue, the pilots began to take out children and the wounded, while simultaneously delivering ammunition to the partisans.
Two planes were allocated, and special cradled capsules were attached under their wings, which could accommodate several additional people. Plus, the pilots took off without navigators - this place was also saved for passengers.
In general, more than five hundred people were taken out during the operation. But now we will talk about only one flight, the very last one.
It took place on the night of April 10-11, 1944. Guard Lieutenant Alexander Mamkin was taking the children. He was 28 years old.
A native of the village of Krestyanskoye, Voronezh region, a graduate of the Oryol Financial and Economic College and the Balashov School.
By the time of the events in question, Mamkin was already an experienced pilot. He has at least seventy night flights behind German lines.
That flight was not his first in this operation (it was called “Zvezdochka”), but his ninth. Lake Večelje was used as an airfield. We also had to hurry because the ice became more and more unreliable every day.
The R-5 plane carried ten children, their teacher Valentina Latko and two wounded partisans.
At first everything went well, but when approaching the front line, Mamkin’s plane was shot down. The front line was left behind, and the R-5 was burning...
If Mamkin had been alone on board, he would have gained altitude and jumped out with a parachute. But he was not flying alone. And he was not going to let the boys and girls die.
It was not for this reason that they, who had just begun to live, escaped the Nazis on foot at night in order to break up.
And Mamkin was flying the plane... The flame reached the cockpit.
The temperature melted the flight goggles, sticking to the skin.
Clothes and a headset were on fire; it was hard to see in the smoke and fire. Little by little, only bones remained of the legs.
And there, behind the pilot, there was crying.
The children were afraid of fire, they did not want to die. And Alexander Petrovich flew the plane almost blindly.
Overcoming hellish pain, already, one might say, legless, he still stood firmly between the children and death.
Mamkin found a site on the shore of a lake, not far from Soviet units.
The partition that separated him from the passengers had already burned through, and the clothes on some of them had begun to smolder. But death, swinging its scythe over the children, could not bring it down. Mamkin didn’t give it.
All passengers survived.
Alexander Petrovich, in a completely incomprehensible way, was able to get out of the cabin himself. He managed to ask: “Are the children alive?” And I heard the voice of the boy Volodya Shishkov: “Comrade pilot, don’t worry! I opened the door, everyone is alive, let’s go out...” And Mamkin lost consciousness.
The doctors were still unable to explain how a man could drive a car and even land it safely, with glasses melted into his face and only bones left from his legs?
The Tatar poet’s brilliant poem “Stockings” by Musa Jalil not only moves you to tears, but wrenches your soul...
Stockings - Musa Jalil
They were shot at dawn
When the darkness was still white,
There were women and children
And there was this girl.
First they told them to undress,
Then turn your back to the cliff,
And suddenly a child's voice was heard
Naive, pure and lively:
Should I take off my stockings too, uncle?
Without reproaching, without scolding,
Looked straight into your soul
Three-year-old girl's eyes.
"Stockings too..?"
And the SS man is overcome with confusion.
The hand itself is excited
Suddenly the machine gun lowers.
And again shackled by a child’s gaze,
And it seems that it has grown into the ground.
"Eyes like my Duck's" -
In a confused confusion he said,
Covered with involuntary trembling.
No! He can't kill her
But he gave his turn in a hurry...
A girl in stockings fell.
I didn’t have time to take it off, I couldn’t.
Soldier, soldier, what if I had a daughter?
Yours would lie here like this,
And this little heart
Pierced by your bullet.
You are not just a German person,
You are a terrible beast among people.
The SS man walked stubbornly,
He walked without raising his eyes.
For the first time maybe this thought
It lit up in the poisoned mind,
And again the child’s gaze shone,
And again it is heard again,
And will not be forgotten forever
“Uncle, should you take off your stockings too?”
