May 9 in Odessa: “And I want to go home to Russia...”
First, I’ll tell you about my first impression of Victory Day in Odessa. The first, they say, is correct. So it was like how prisoners from different concentration camps were transported in barracks cars, stopped at the station and forced out to breathe air so that they would not die before reaching their destination, otherwise there would not be enough labor. And the prisoners, seeing their old comrades, began to hug each other, began to congratulate each other on a breath of fresh air; crying. From momentary happiness. Maybe already the last one.
In Odessa, on the Walk of Fame - the traditional gathering place on Victory Day - a similar thing was observed. Everyone was here. And so it has been for seven years. Seven years of occupation, when ours are either in the cemetery or on the Walk of Fame.
Every year on May 9th I think, what if it happens without provocations? Every time I try to use logic - but the mayor and other owners of the city only pretend to be “thick” Ukrainians, but in reality they are normal Soviet people, so they should not allow dancing on bones and spitting at least at veterans. And every time I'm wrong. Logic doesn't work.
Today was “Groundhog Day”: when a friend from Germany congratulated me on the holiday and sent me photos from the Memorial to fallen Soviet soldiers in Tiergarten, the center of Berlin - cars with Soviet symbols, memorial wreaths, red banners of Victory.
On the way to the Hall of Glory, an elderly woman, a member of the Immortal Regiment, was beaten. She carried a portrait of Marshal Zhukov. The portrait was torn out and smashed by the police, and those who stood up for the woman, like herself, were simply scattered and kicked. The Nazis helped, of course. The journalist who was filming the chaos was ordered by people in uniform to turn off the camera; when she refused, they rudely pushed her out too. Such a meat grinder on a great holiday...
In Odessa, a portrait of the Marshal of Victory was torn out of his hands.
Our people were detained all over the city - a man was immediately charged with a criminal offense for a cap with a red star (a couple of years ago the mayor sported a similar one), a pensioner with a St. George ribbon was harassed, people were escorted out of the Walk of Fame for chanting “Novorossiya”, “Donbass, we are with you” " and "Fascists". They pushed out a woman with a child in her arms.
And “oh, how many wonderful discoveries we will have” tomorrow, when the police will finally report on all the people isolated from Nazi society! For example, cars drove through memorable places, from which they said, “But I want to go home to Russia, I haven’t seen my mother for so long.” So soon we will probably learn about several more “traitors to the motherland.”
When I walked to the filtration point where the police search people, a group of men walked next to me - they were dragging a concert speaker with them and talking in fluent Russian: “Well, where is Sanya? All our people have already gathered.” “Where did I see them?” I kept thinking in my head.
When we approached the checkpoint, the police unexpectedly politely congratulated me on the holiday, and stopped the men - where are you taking your speaker, why?” And then they started singing in language! “You are violating our rights! Why are you bothering us? What do we have, fascism?!” Bam, unexpectedly - I remembered where I saw these faces suddenly becoming Ukrainian-speaking - at Svoboda rallies! And these “anti-fascists” probably dragged the speaker in order to turn on fascist marches in the old fashioned way. Such are the double standards.
The barking of the policeman rang in my ears: “Women to the left, men to the right!” Yeah, associations - Auschwitz, suicide bombers... That's how we live.
I approached the monument to the unknown Sailor at nine in the morning, and it was already covered with flowers. At the Eternal Flame are veterans and people bowing low to them. But the police asked us to make way - the official delegation was moving: the mayor, the governor, officials. They even included a requiem especially for them: “People! While hearts are knocking, remember! At what price was happiness won! Ordinary people are not allowed to listen to it, apparently because in case of mass listening, it is already propaganda of Soviet symbols, for which everyone who is not the mayor is kicked.
By the way, ordinary people were already following the official delegation - with portraits of their heroic ancestors. But many of them, most likely, served under the command of Zhukov. Thank you for not taking away the portraits and beating me...
Minute of silence, laying of wreaths, Ukrainian anthem. There is a dissatisfied whisper in the crowd: “Our people are being killed under this anthem.” The anthem ends and the military band cuts short the march. A couple of minutes, no more. “Yes, they should play for three hours as before! Or were they just playing for bureaucrats?” people are indignant.
The bureaucrats left and a holiday began for the people, for their own people, for us! This is that part of Odessa Victory Day when goosebumps begin to run down your spine - the Immortal Regiment is moving! A wave of people, the ninth wave of ours, ours! What the occupier is so afraid of! What I have written about more than once is a real indicator of the political mood in the country.
People go and sing “Holy War”... Because as long as their hearts are beating, they remember, they remember everything...
The Nazis also crawled onto the Walk of Fame and stretched out a banner: “For the power of Ukraine.” Well, people openly spat at them, and since many people now walk around with pocket dogs, they literally showed them the dogs’ butts. The police did not like this, and they broadcast through the loudspeaker “Whoever put the flowers, go to the left” - also along a special “filtration” route. Those who did not agree were forced out en masse.
A large number of children and teenagers caught my eye. Moreover, not those who stand and whine about “tired legs”, not understanding what is happening, but conscious ones.
And, leaving the Walk of Fame, we, mothers, calmed ourselves down and remembered and remembered everything: “And they brought my grandson from the maternity hospital when I had a search. Now he is seven years old and loves “Darkie.” “And mine at school, during a lesson on “guidance,” somehow took it and told about the people who were burned alive on May 2.” “And mine ran away from class, I’ll sing the “Holy War” with you, he says, and not Bandera’s songs.”
This means that we still won. And it’s not just that our children will carry truth and memory through their lives - and we should live for them! And very soon - I hope - I will also send a photo to a friend in Berlin with the red banner of Victory from Odessa, in which there will no longer be fascism. And to Berlin, and to the entire civilized world, where people are not burned and women are not kicked to death.
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