I am writing this story for my grandmother Iraida Pavlovna Mouravleva.
This is her memories about the Second World War and everything is written from her name.
We love you, Mama Ira!
This is her memories about the Second World War and everything is written from her name.
We love you, Mama Ira!
(written from my grandmother's name)
"...I was 13 years old in 1941. My brother Sasha (Aleksandr) was almost 17.
In June 18, 1941 it was my birthday and I still had all the wonderful memories about my family Sunday dinner together with my parents, brother, uncles, aunts and my cousins.
My father asked me:"What are you going to do Irka?"
Then mu uncle laughed and slightly hit my brother's shoulder:"Ask him, Shashka is a grown man!"
We all were laughing and at that time no one of as knew that it will be our last dinner together. And in three days our life in a quite Soviet village "Kovrovi" will change forever.
My father asked me:"What are you going to do Irka?"
Then mu uncle laughed and slightly hit my brother's shoulder:"Ask him, Shashka is a grown man!"
We all were laughing and at that time no one of as knew that it will be our last dinner together. And in three days our life in a quite Soviet village "Kovrovi" will change forever.
June 22, 1941 came to our country, Russia...
To be continue...
