This is an apolitical forum for discussions on the Axis nations, as well as the First and Second World Wars in general hosted by Marcus Wendel's Axis History Factbook in cooperation with Michael Miller's Axis Biographical Research and Christoph Awender's WW2 day by day.





Larrister wrote:Hello Linkar,
I have a huge collection of photos depicting the peoples, their lives and living conditions in the occupied territories especially Russia.
Will share some of them here if that is OK.
Larry











Larrister wrote:People leave their village, walking past column. By the amount of people leaving were they possibly evicted?
We lived in my mother’s home village, Chazheshno, not far from Volkhov-1. Germans advanced to our village. Our house was the best one. My mother’s brothers, who were serving at the front, had built it. Germans evicted all village residents and billeted officers and soldiers in their houses. Our house was used as communications HQs. The villagers, mostly old people and women with children, moved into a large bunker which had been dug out by Soviet soldiers. We lived in the bunker until December 1941.
Germans ordered the able-bodied women to work for them. The women washed laundry, cleaned houses where Germans lived and the kitchens. The food for soldiers and officers was prepared by Germans themselves. They gave leftovers, including potato peelings, to the women, who had to feed the sick, children and old relatives. In the dugout dwellings people divided everything equally, helping each other out.
There was no light, and no candles in the dugout bunker. At dark, we lit up kindling, sticking it in jars or bottles – whatever we had at hand. We boiled tea on small kerosene or primus stoves (I don’t remember exactly). We boiled whole buckets of water because we needed to wash the old people and children to prevent lice. We had no soap. Women tried to steal soap from Germans, but had no luck.
My mother, who was 27 years old, washed laundry for Germans. They threw away bloodied bandages, which she picked up, secretly carried out together with the laundry and washed in the river Volkhov.
One day my mother stumbled across a wounded young Russian sailor in the shrubbery on the river bank. He moaned in pain and asked for help. My mother waited for the dark and dragged the sailor up the river shore to the bunker. Everyone took care of the young man, using the bandages washed by the women. The children were told not to tell anyone. There were no medicines, and the wounded man was getting worse. The bloody bandages were thrown into the river to make sure the Germans wouldn’t find them.
The sailor told my mother, “Dusya, if I survive, I will definitely find you after the war.” Somehow, the Germans found out about the wounded man (apparently someone reported about him). They hauled him out, tied to a tree and shot him in front of everyone.


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