More Than Just Soldiers: Wisdom From the Front Lines

This is the second installment in my four week series honoring the Ukrainian men and women who fought for their freedom in World War II, or “The Great Patriotic War,” as it is referred to in Ukraine.

Today’s story comes from a man named Oleg Dimitrievich. I met him at a local school one afternoon in Kiev after I finished speaking with a group of students. He heard what I was doing, and asked if he could tell me his story.

Stories From World War II

I will never forget this man. His hands were weathered and rough, nervously ringing his hat as he recalled the memories that haunted him. He told me his story with tears coursing down his cheeks, and he wanted to make sure that I understood that the men and women who fought in this war were more than just soldiers.

You must know that I and my comrades, we were all just ordinary people.  We were not special.  We were just young men and women doing our job.  The battalion I took part in was a fine battalion.  We fought hard for our country.  We were good men – learned men.  Many of the men loved to write poetry.  We were deep thinkers and philosophers and singers.  We were more than just soldiers.”

Oleg Dmitrievich remembered those days of war with raw emotion. He described the heat of the bombs, and the sounds of the bullets as they buzzed by his head. Out of 600 men in his battalion, less than 50 survived.

This is his story:

I was a simple officer in the Great Patriotic War.  When the war began I was still studying in college, so I did not join the front until March of 1942.  I was 23-years-old at the time.

I would like to tell you my impressions of the war.  You see, my memories of that time are not just stories, they are realities.  The deaths, the battles, the bombings – they are all real to me.  You are just listening to these stories, but I was living them.

You must understand that many people in my country have covered up facts about this period of history.  For many years, people have tried to cover up their shame by burying the truth beneath a mountain of propaganda.  We have hidden ourselves from the truth. 

And what is the truth?  Many people do not know that when the Germans first appeared, people in our country, especially those in small villages, accepted them.  They thought that perhaps Germany had come to liberate them from the Soviet Rule.  They thought it was the establishment of a new Revolutionary period.  So, as the Germans marched into the villages, people threw them candy and sweets.  They listened to the German songs and tried to sing along.  This was hard for those of us fighting the war to see and understand.  We felt betrayed by their acceptance of the very people we were trying to overcome.  This is the truth.

There is one particular episode that stands out vividly in my mind.  It was late in the afternoon, and I had somehow gotten separated from the men in my battalion.  I was walking down the road, unsure of where I was when I saw two Soviet soldiers sitting on the side of the road with their backs to me.  I thought that perhaps they were sleeping, but I needed help so I decided to disturb them.  I approached and asked for directions but received no response, so I gently nudged one of them.  It was then that I noticed that they had no heads.  This was a terrible shock.  This was life on the front.  You never knew what horror each day could bring.

In 1944, I took part in the liberation of [the town of] Kam’yanets Podilsky.  It was difficult there.  Kam’yanets Podilsky was a small town surrounded by rolling hills.  There was a large bridge that crossed a deep gully.  This bridge was old and beautiful.  It led to the old fortress.  This fortress is one of the most remarkable sights in our country.  Through determined fighting, the Soviet soldiers had managed to save that fortress from complete destruction.  But they could not keep the Germans out completely.

The Germans had taken control of this town and were monitoring the main bridge.  We worried that we would not be able to usurp them.  So we decided to trick them.  We waited until night to begin our attack.  We shined our tank lights down upon them as bright as we could, so they were unsure of whether we were enemy tanks or their own tanks.  Then, our division rushed forward, and somehow, through that simple trick, we were able to retake the bridge.

After this time, I participated in the liberation of Lviv.  In Lviv, we faced an battalion of Ukrainian rebels called the Banderovtsy.  They were an ugly, terrorous people.  We did not know about them before we got to Lviv.

(Sidebar: The Banderovtsy were a group of men and women who fought zealously under their leader, Stepan Bandera.  Their sole aim was to see Ukraine become an independent nation; therefore, they often fought not only against the Germans, but against the Soviets as well.  There is a great divide between Ukrainians as to whether the Banderovtsy were patriotic soldiers or ruthless killers.  In Western Ukraine, the Bandersovtsy are often hailed and remembered with pride.  But elsewhere, they are often shamefully scorned.)

At one point, we found ourselves in a small village outside of Lviv where wounded soldiers were being treated.  I do not remember the name of this town.  There were thirty-one people in this village when I arrived, and we wanted to evacuate them to a hospital.  I left one morning to get a car to send for the wounded, but by the time I returned, all of them had been slaughtered.  The Banderovtsy had been there.  This was terrible.

We were always on edge during this time of war.  We never knew when an attack would begin.  Fear mounted only in the still moments of the night, when we had nothing but our thoughts to keep us company.  During the day, we did not have time to fear.  You see, fear appears only when you are idle – when you have nothing to do.  But, if you have a goal and know what you are working toward, you are busy and you can neglect your fear. 

This was my experience in the Great Patriotic War.  I feel it is a pity that we had to fight this war.  It seems it should not have happened.  But I am grateful that I took part and helped lead this country to victory over the fascists.  We fought to the victory!

A Prayer for a Day when the Words Won’t Come

Character quote

 

I’ve been sitting at my computer for an hour, willing the words to come. I feel dry today, a bit discouraged, and frustrated that I cannot find the right words to convey the thoughts in my head.

Then I decided to quit trying to force something that simply wasn’t there. Sometimes it’s better to just be quiet anyway, isn’t it?

I’m praying for those of you who, like me, have walked through the fire of trials recently, and who simply need to take some time to be quiet. In your quiet, may your soul be strengthened, your vision cleared, and your ambition for the next step inspired.

This is my Wednesday prayer for you.

Passion, Purpose, and Icing on the Cake

Last October, I wrote a 31 Day series on becoming an author. Writing those posts unlocked something inside me – something that I’d rolled up and tucked away in the corner of my heart a long time ago.

I remembered that I wanted to be a writer.

I was a freshman in college in 1996. Yes, I’m publicly admitting my age right now. I’m feeling brave.

I got my first email address that year, and it took me the entire first semester of college to figure out how to use the blasted thing. I would walk to The Sub in the middle of Baylor Campus and click on that little ‘e’ button, and then wonder what the heck I was supposed to do next on this odd little contraption called the internet.

By 1998, my junior year, I’d learned relatively little about using the internet. Nice, huh? Outside of finally figuring out my Baylor issued email address, I could not for my life manage to search the web without going in circles and ending up frustrated. As I headed to Kiev, Ukraine for a fall study abroad, I finally had someone help me set up my very first email address that wasn’t linked to the school.

I got my little hotmail address up and running, then jetted off to the other side of the world with big promises of staying in touch with everyone. I quickly found an internet cafe located not too far from my school in the heart of Kiev, and once a week I paid for an hour of time on the computer. 45 minutes of that time was spent trying to find Hotmail, just so I could sign into my account.

I had no idea that I could just type in the web address on the top of the page. Instead, I would go to Google (or Yahoo – I can’t remember which one was popular then) and I would type in the word “hotmail.” Then I would follow link after link until I somehow, mercifully, found my way to the hotmail home page.

For two months, I used this roundabout method to check my email before I finally figured out the easy way to search the web and my life was revolutionized completely.

I tell you this to help you understand that I never, ever dreamed that I would one day write on the internet. This was not on my radar. I left college with dreams of writing books.

PassionAustria

I spent the first five years after college ghostwriting, editing, and co-authoring books, and in my heart I longed to write my own book – a novel.

Then I had a baby, and another one, and another one, and I came to the realization that writing books is hard to do when you only have ten minutes of alone time each day (and those ten minutes were usually spent locked in my closet with my eyes closed tight, praying that God would make me a bird so I could fly far. Far, far away…).

So I took to writing on the internet, and I found that I loved it. I got to enjoy utilizing my craft, release a little pent up frustration (in the form of humorous stories), and make so many friends along the way.

But deep down inside I knew that I was meant to do more with this thing called writing.

It can be wildly discouraging and frustrating to be online these days when it seems every third person is releasing their book while I wait and wonder if mine will ever be picked up. It’s a timing thing, a finding the right person thing, a patience thing – I know all these “things,” and yet I find myself so impatient for that next step.

Passion is a funny beast. Passionate living points you in a direction and requires much more than a simple obsession. It takes more than hard work, more than bravery, more than talent. Passion requires belief. 

Passion requires you to direct your energy with purpose toward the thing you want to pursue.

Living a life of purpose means living a life in pursuit of those things that make you feel alive, and we are all jolted alive by different things. Have you found your passion? Have you found the one thing (or several things!) that gets your heart pumping, your pulse racing, and pushes you purposefully forward each day?

Don’t be afraid to chase after your passions, and for those of you who, like me, are pursuing them but feel like you’re slogging through the mire of discouragement, keep pressing forward. Pursue because you love what you do, not because you love the rewards. Yes, the rewards are icing on the cake, but here’s the thing:

Some cakes are just as good without the icing.

Happy Wednesday, all!

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