Memorial "Little Earth" at dawn
Panorama of the future memorial "Small Earth" in the Soviet years
A legend named Caesar Lvovich Kunikov, after the death of the most famous commander, began her own life. This legend has gone through unduly hothouse Brezhnev times, when one aging honored veteran was not so angry with vanity because of tenderness and care that grove in which this legend grew was that he had almost untied it.
Stella on "Little Earth" - the modest grandeur of time
Memorial in the autumn storms, in the background the indispensable companion of the north-east - the "beard" (clouds overtaking mountain passes by the strongest wind)
At the time of the photographing, the wind didn’t only press me to the concrete, but also notably “refreshed” sea water as in the shower. But people not only landed in this weather in total darkness, but also went into battle under dagger fire
Inside the memorial (this photo is provided by Roman Skomorokhov)
But can we reproach the whole life of a veteran who served his people in this weakness? With an eye on history, I can confidently say no. Especially after our creative "intelligentsia" trampled down according to the old veteran. As if a specific reprimand of the Secretary General is a conscious choice. It’s possible that someone’s world will collapse now, but the sick liver of an alcoholic is a conscious choice, AIDS after unprotected sex with a stranger is a conscious choice, and the fragment that shattered the jaw is an unconscious choice, this is a battle wound. And all the more, the innocent joy of Leonid Ilyich now seems to be new orders and medals, so inspired by the political bureau, handed to him partly against the backdrop of self-styled prima donnas, drunken humorist-gerontophiles and “pop kings”, hung with orders and titles, as if they hadn't missed not a single battle since standing on the Ugra.
The memorial in Myskhako, in the middle of a plane tree planted in the distant 1974 year by Leonid Brezhnev (during the shooting the tree was watered abundantly, as it seemed to me this procedure daily, especially since in the south the beginning of autumn is an endless change of wild heat and cold rainy days)
Monument "Explosion" - created from the "gifts" of war
Mosaic map of the "Small Earth" bridgehead, which led me in childhood to a complete boyish delight
On the stella, the description of the most fiery days of the bridgehead
But the legend held out, became a little sentimental with a hint of nostalgia, but held out. And then the hurricane winds of the “saints 90's” came flying, as the widow of an old alcoholic put it. Former Komsomol leaders and yesterday's mediocre hacks from some “morning dawn”, acutely sensing the trend, desperately dreamed of jumping into that wave on which the popular camp gossip collector Mr. Solzhenitsyn had already successfully traveled. At the same time, none of them were inventive, except that, thanks to the quality of Soviet higher education, they could write a little more vividly and readable than the one Alexander Isaevich smeared on pages.
These "angels of saints 90-x" acted on the same training manuals. If it was not possible to cut down the legend at the root, then they diligently plowed the earth around its tree, so that there could not sprout for a hundred years. Sometimes they did both.
The legend named Kunikov turned out to be too strong. So strong that now those public figures who have broken their teeth about it can only remind of their vital activity if they retreat into oblivion under the most piquant circumstances or on a well-known bridge that they are one and the same. Therefore, I don’t see the point of citing the names of these Gerostrat-losers, but their methods are worth knowing.
A plaque at the beginning of the street, named after Major Caesar Kunikov
Opposite the memorial plaque is a modest monument. Unfortunately, after a wild capitalization, he stands amid second-rate eatery
At first, these borzopisty, of course, tried to file Kunikov himself. But the search for greasy details — something like sexual dysfunction or extramarital affair — only caused them to stop communicating with them. Therefore, they began to uproot the very ground in which the roots of the legendary personality of Kunikov sprouted themselves.
Soon, these citizens announced that the low-land landing itself was meaningless. Thus, the heroes became martyrs and victims, which means they would be less dangerous for pro-Western ideologists. The fact that the bridgehead pulled over a significant amount of enemy forces, became a convenient position for breaking through the Blue Line, blocked for fleet the enemy’s major port, had a tremendous psychological and political effect - they either rejected it. And more often than not, they simply did not know about it due to the very purpose of their work, which had nothing to do with historical truth.
But the most safe method was the national question. Everything is as old as the world. Find a couple of dozen idiots in the depths of two great nations, let them go to the media, and in a couple of years news about building a wall a la Ukraine will become more relevant in society than building a hospital or school.
New houses, in which the officers of the NBM should move. Well, if this new district is given the now somewhat forgotten name - Kunikovka (this is how the village was called Stanichka and the territory of the fish factory after the war)
For Kunikov, this turned out to be a nonsense that was striking at first glance - he was absented in absentia with his colleagues and command! In the foundation of this psychedelic situation, worthy of the pen of Franz Kafka, lay the omissions, gossip and the associated conspiratorial winks - they say, we know the truth with you. For example, the head of the Kunikovsky detachment, Fyodor Kotanov, is credited with walking the phrase “Kunikov is a Jew”. For citizens desperately seeking anti-Semitism, this phrase, even without context, is already flawless proof. Well, the reality of the great multinational power in the great war does not fit into their craniums. But I, no matter how hard I try, cannot imagine a “democratic” acquaintance in their opinion. “Hello, I am a Jew,” said Kunikov. “Hello, I am from the Pontic Greeks,” said Kotanov. “Guys, when will we fight?” Asked Starshinov modestly. In general, surrealism offered instead of a cohesive multinational country.
Heroes Square goes down to the sea surface in a business-like fussy Tsemessky bay (on the right on the photo, if you look closely you can see the cruiser "Mikhail Kutuzov")
And therefore, apart from a bit of surprise, Kotanov could not express anything else. In a country in which Edward can be Russian, Vladimir - Greek, Stepan - Armenian, such words can be cited as an argument only by a person who is focused on their search and the “correct” interpretation. But apologists for the “national question” of Caesar Kunikov consider Kholostyakov to be the culprit. Allegedly, he was the first to designate the nationality in the column as “Russian” in order to circumvent the “repressive apparatus of the Union” when introducing Caesar to the title of Hero.
The grave of Nikolai Sipyagin
And no one even wanted to look into the materials about the irretrievable losses of the ULBR, in which the “Russian” was written in a plain faded pencil. This is true because the signatures of lesser-known people under these documents, and imagining terry "state" flourishing in hospitals, anti-Semitism is already too deep paranoia. Yes, and to assume that the victim with the most severe wound of Kunikov’s spine was tortured for a long time about nationality is ridiculous. “And what nation are you? What does it mean write what you want? What does it mean to put the spine in place? We have a strict accounting of the Jews here, by the way. So, next in line, do not shout, wrap the stump with a belt and wait, we have an important question here, ”however, this is also possible in the minds of these researchers.
But the biggest meanness they tried to do with the orders of Kunikov. Hiding behind the noble position of defending Caesar’s personality, some historians put up the hero of Mala Zemlya not only a martyr, but also a fool, whose deeds the state did not appreciate. Indeed, until the death of Kunikov, he did not receive state awards for military operations. But this could have been influenced by a dozen factors — to a certain extent, the independent nature of Kunikov’s command, the bitterness of the battles and the retreats in 41-42, the absolute preoccupation of Caesar with military affairs, constant re-formations, etc. And not one of them, not one, was considered as a reason, when it was urgently needed and, as you already know in absentia, to trample Kunikov with the boots of a “bloody scoop”. Why not awarded? Because a Jew, that's all. And, of course, in this system there is no room for the fact that, despite the nationality, Kunikov had made a dizzying party and managerial career before the war. After all, he was invited to the People's Commissariat of Munitions for the position of one of the deputies.
Thus, they tried to convince us that the legendary major is just another stupid boltik of the system, respectively, not a hero. Since everything that he believed in, all of his Soviet powers, everything for which he, so incomprehensible to them, sacrificed his life, was simply a delusion. Therefore, an attempt to “tell the truth” about Kunikov, is no more than diligent uprooting of the tree of the legend and glory of Caesar. After all, surprisingly for some specific citizens, Kunikov, like many of his contemporaries, was more like his terrible, but great era, than his parents. And this they could not forgive, could not leave in memory alive.
The grave of the great marines Caesar Lvovich Kunikova
Unfortunately, judging by some comments on the Kunikov cycle, their attempts were not entirely fruitless. Someone was furiously proud of Kunikov's Jewry, losing the identity itself and the fact that he was going to die. Someone denied his Jewry, trying to privatize Caesar into his own pantheon. And those and others did not see Kunikov behind a veil of insults and prejudices. Both those and others continued the rat work started in the distant 90-s, I hope involuntarily.
However, the memory is complicated. Sometimes it helps to survive difficult times. And the fiercer they try to squeeze it out, the more it sparkles. And, of course, monuments play an important role in its brilliance, which in our age of box-like skyscrapers look majestic. Congenital curiosity no, no, yes and make the boy ask his father, and who was this man, whose name is carved on granite slabs. And now our concern is how to preserve memory. And in time to be able to sift out the bark beetles, who, for the sake of momentary gain, are ready to cut off any tree of the people themselves for the false guise of care.