I don’t know exactly where they met, I conjecture it was in Saratov. It was before The World War 2. My grandfather was 20 years old and my grandmother was a little bit younger. He was strong, clever, young man; she was as beautiful as an angel. They fell in love with each other from the first sight. It was the love for the whole life. In 1940 they got married.
But at 4 a.m. 22nd of July 1941 the World War 2 began. In 1942 my grandfather as a true patriot of former USSR went to the front to fight against the German occupiers. He served as lieutenant in field artillery. My grandmother with her mother and sister moved from Saratov to Karaganda. They served on the home front.
My grandfather fought about half of a year but then he was wounded by shell splinter. He sent the letter to his family and friends that he was wounded but they shouldn’t worry about his life and health because it was non-penetrating wound and it wasn’t dangerous. But as a matter of fact it was a severe penetrating wound to his stomach. For a long time he was going through a different courses of medical treatment in many hospitals in our country and abroad.
In 1944 he came back to Karaganda to the family and served on the home front. After the end of the war in 1945 my grandparents moved to Almaty. They bought a piece of land and built their own house. They graduated from teachers’ training institute and became excellent teachers. My grandfather was a teacher of algebra and geometry and my grandmother became a teacher of Russian language and literature.
In 1946 my mother was born. My grandparents gave birth to three children. But the youngest son died when he was about 20 years old (he was very ill); it was real tragedy for the family. Because of that reason I have only one uncle. My grandmother died in 1998 and my grandfather died in 2007. Although they are on the Heaven I love them very much.
My parents work hard for all the time so that’s why I lived and grew up with my grandparents. My grandfather told me about the war, the fights and his wound only once, five or six years ago. And when he was telling his story he was crying, it was very painful for him to remember that terrifying time.
Indeed I’m very obliged to my grandparents. My grandmother fostered my love for music and classic literature and my grandfather taught me to be honest. They are always set me an example of real love, relations and life style. I’m very proud of my grandparents and they are always in my heart, soul and dreams!