The Story of the Flaming Years (1961) - full transcript
In early Summer 1941, German troops penetrate into Russia, wreaking human and material destruction. Ivan Orlyukov, a young Russian, takes up arms and rises up against the invader. He is not alone : a whole people struggles with him and manages, through their own self-sacrifice, to expel the Nazis from the motherland. Altogether, they fight fiercely till the full annihilation of the enemy.
''Mosfilm''
The World War has finished!
I stand with a submachine gun
at the threshold of a new era and think:
What a powerful dark force
we've managed to beat, damn it!
Troops pass in front of me
They are my comrades.
Standing like a commander
I give them way, though I am
neither a general, nor a marshal.
I am a common sergeant, Ivan Orliuk,
collective farmer, Trans-Dnipro Region,
in other words,
an ordinary victor in the World War.
But, the number of our comrades fallen
in battle for the liberation from fascism
is greater than any other nation's
soldiers, throughout the world.
And I myself have shed enemy's blood
and suffered hardships too.
Being a person born for good, so I must
introduce myself to my contemporaries,
friends and enemies of the whole world,
together with my wife, mother and father,
with the whole home, as they say, with
the well, I drank water from once,
with the garden, were I experienced
the first callouses on my hands.
With all my family and my fortune.
Oleksandr Dovzhenko
CHRONICLE OF THE FLAMING YEARS
Nightfall in the year 1941,
farewell spirits stretched over the Dnipro.
Parents said good-bye to their children,
husbands to wives, brothers to sisters.
Two loves departed,
as did their hopes.
The might-have-been marriage,
unrealized maternity.
It was windy that night.
Disturbing clouds floated
in from the West, from Germany.
The smell of fire and the dead.
They rushed good-byes, despite
the restraining tugs, leaving hastily
as if in pursuit of
their uncommon destinies.
That night nobody knew
the size of the coming events.
Not the main character
of our chronicle, Ivan Orliuk.
He only felt, going out
towards the West with his regiment,
that great times had come.
And he kept silent under the influence
of the strangeness of his feeling.
Oh God, forbid that my son, a warrior,
fall into death's hands.
His name is Ivan, my fortune,
Ivan Orliuk,
and I am his mother!
I stand at dawn and nightfall,
spelling the roads.
I stand at midnight
over the abyss of grief,
that he not be defeated
by any sword, any fire, any waters,
my son, my defender!
The accused Ivan Orliuk,
during arrest
this item has been found.
What is this?
Answer, what is this?
Soil. - Which soil?
- Ukrainian.
So. Were you a member of the Komsomol?
- But I am a member of the Komsomol.
Let it be. And what is this for?
I took this to keep in mind Ukraine,
as we left.
Early dawn, a woman cried and said
this was the Ukraine border, the frontier.
So?
- Then I stepped back,
went down on my knees and said:
"Farewell to you, Ukraine!''
What else did you say?
- Nothing more.
Let me recall...
It seems that was all.
Yes.
Continue. You may continue to
tell us your biography, but be brief.
So I tell you that when
we were gathering in a hayfield,
we were walking around
stacks of grain.
All my childhood I walked on grain.
It was everywhere, wherever you might turn.
In pots, in bundles, on poles in the porch,
in a shed under the roof,
in barrels, sacks, bags.
I often slept on grain. In the rye,
the millet and peas on the stove.
I love the smell of grain.
I grew up on grain. My mother gave me life in
grain too, harvest time under the haystack.
Enough. - But this is very important!
I'll explain it to you!
You'd better tell us about your crime.
How you killed two of your comrades?
Who, evidently, grew up amid the grain too.
But I told them: you mustn't think in
such a mean way. That is, I thought so.
What exactly? - About what they spoke of.
- But you had no right to shoot them.
No, I didn't. - So, you admit your guilt?
- No, as I explained to you....
Answer the questions exactly.
Did you kill them?
I shot them! Before shooting I asked
permission. - Whose did you ask?
Captain's Kravchyna.
- Captain Kravchyna had no right.
But a mine exploded first, he fell down
injured. Then I shot them myself.
Nobody gave you the right. Why not
own up to killing your two comrades?
My heart has gone mad!..
- Answer: yes or no?
- I... I can't say. - You stand
in front of the Military Tribunal.
You will be shot!
I will tell you.
-Then tell.
At that moment I also noticed
a little of their feeling in myself.
As if it flew through the air to me...
And this hurt me somehow,
and I became angry.
And there was no time
to think any more. And then...
how little of this soil is left.
So... And what did you say?
I said: Good-bye Ukraine, death to
Nazi occupants, and some more words.
And after that?
- Then we took this.
Then I saw that they threw it
in such a way...
I then said them, all in all, we began
to speak, and I understood
I will shoot these skunks or my oath will not
be worth a pin and I'll not return home.
So on the second night,
when the fascists broke through,
I saw them on their way to the village,
they hid in a haystack, so I rushed to my gun.
Stop where you stay, I say:
Betrayers and cowards of the Fatherland!
As defender of the Fatherland,
a Communist, and a judge,
I ask you to realize properly
what I will say to you:
even if you were my only son,
you would go...
To a penal company! At least
three days I will fight, please!
Three days. And then death?
Please! - How stupid you are! With the
surname of an eagle, and the brains of an ass.
You're not so far from
those fools you shot. No, my dear...
Comrade...
- Wait. - Comrade judge!
Air raid!
As for the grain, you spoke well.
I believe that sooner or later you, Orliuk,
will sow these seeds along the Dnipro...
- So, I didn't offend you with the grain?
With grain? No.
- I like sowing so much!
I like to plough, to mow, to thresh, but most of all I like to sow,
to plant, to grow, make things sprout.
It's as if I have a hundred hands.
Comrade judges,
I have such a magic touch.
Nowhere did it yield any better than
where I sowed. I was given a medal for it.
You know, I studied to be an agronomist...
They're coming! Ours are coming!
I am so envious of pilots
I didn't manage to become a pilot.
Fire at me.
Fire at me!
The enemy is close! Swallow here.
Do it! Do it!
Fire at me! Fire at me!
Fire at me!
Do it! Do it!
Fire at me! The fascists are near.
Do it!
Fire! Fire!
Listen to my order!
Do it! Swallow here!
The fascists are near! Do it!
Do it! Damn it!
We'll do it!
Get away, while it's safe!
Fire!
Battery, in position!
Fire against the enemy! Fire!
Tanks! Dubrovin, our tanks!..
Ivanochku, has returned!
Ivanochku, tell us something!
Why you're dressed in such a white shirt?
Because I'm starting second grade today.
But over there is war.
There's war, mother.
The whole world over, you can see it!
Is it on fire? - It's on fire, mother,
and for the next hundred years.
Ivan! Ivanochku!
Ivanochku has returned!
Ivan! Is it you, our Ivan?
I'm losing consciousness...
Uliana!
Is it you, Ivan?
- I'm alive!
We are alive! A simple wound...
Two. Now, hold it! Stop the blood!
Don't leave me, Stepan!
- I can't hear! I'm deaf!
Don't let me lie down!
Keep me upright!
And you fight it, stay up.
- I am . Oh, Styopa, I'm standing!
Stay up, don't give up.
Stay up! And we'll show who
we are again. Believe my Russian word!
Achtung!
School headmaster Vasyl Makarovych
Riasnyi was not an ordinary teacher.
The enlightenment of people was
the hereditary activity of his family.
Portraits of Chernyshevskiy, Pisarev,
Dobrolyubov, Ushinskiy, Shevchenko,
on which whole generations
of teachers were brought up,
these portraits were honoured in his house
together with portraits of Marx and Lenin.
Being exiled from Ukraine in 1918,
Yevhen Hrybovskyi became known to counter
intelligence services of many countries.
"Commercial traveller of terror",
as he was called in appropriate circles,
he sowed hate to his own nation#s government,
dreaming madly, about a campaign against Ukraine.
He was a "minus person" already, German
fascists did not believe any of his words
and disregarded him
as human dregs.
Prince Sviatoslav walked lightly,
like a panther.
He never took with him any carts
in campaigns, he never cooked meat...
Achtung!
But with horse-flesh, or beef,
he baked it on the coals.
He had no tent, nor bed.
This is my daughter,
Mr. Commissar,
please, enter next classroom.
Continue, the Commissar
would like to listen to your lecture.
Continue!
Prince Sviatoslav never attacked
his enemies without declaring war.
Being noble and a real Slavonian,
he always warned of his campaign:
I want to take the field against you...
He grew up right here,
were we did.
There by the mountain, in Vyshhorod,
his mother Olga lived.
Here, where Troian's house stands,
his horses pastured,
as horses of his father and
grandfather a thousand years ago.
When in 972 the Pechenizki hordes surrounded
the hero-Prince along Dnipro thresholds,
and he saw that there was no way out,
he still found a way out
for himself and his retinue.
With all wounded, and their swords blunt,
grief calling them to flee the battlefield,
he said:
Warriors, let us not shame Rus land,
let us fall in battle here.
The dead will feel no shame...
And then his warriors answered:
Prince, wherever
you will give up your life
we will also give up our lives there!
Death to fascist occupants?
What?
Very good.
Stand!
- Achtung!
Stand!
Mr. Commissar, it is just a lesson!
A lesson on our ancient history!
You will have a lesson
from a new history.
I respect femininity,
Though you deserve a bullet or a rope
according to laws of empire.
I do not need your pardon.
Mr. Commissar...
We're all member of the Komsomol!
- It's not true! You've no right to say so!
Uliana Vasylivna!
Tell them I'm not a member!
You? Certainly not.
How you can be a Komsomol member!
It doesn't matter if you are members
or not. You will all go to Germany today.
But we are studying.
You will not study. You will work.
It is stupid to study in a village.
Wait! It's impossible,
there's a mistake!
I don't believe it!
The Germany of Goethe, Schiller!
Leave it! It's tactless. The 3 youngest groups
will be left with teacher Mandryka.
Mandryka?
No, no, this is beyond belief.
I beg you, translate to him.
Commissar, you were wrongly informed.
Our village is not such as you think.
In the years of Soviet power
a lot of intellectual were brought up here,
engineers, teachers, doctors...
Scientists, chemists, agronomists...
You have to understand,
you see, in our...
We are not your visitors,
you are ours.
No, you don't understand.
What are you saying. You're a fool!
Don't say those words.
- What did he say?
I said that they will not go to Germany.
No, no, it was me, who said this!
It's not true! Vasyl Markuvych
didn't say that! He slanders himself.
You must realize you've been beaten.
The Commissar says you must be careful.
You may be punished...
You're lying! I said he may
consider himself hanged,
And you may regard yourself demoted.
Kurbatskyi! Beat him.
Don't touch! Don't touch!
What?
Comrades! Let's run!
- Do you hear? But where to?!
They've surrounded the building!
- We'll have to break through!
Stop the beating, Cain!
Let me thank the hangman for a rope.
Don't be afraid, I won't hit you.
- Don't come near me! Listen!
No, you listen! Listen and
keep in mind the place you've come to.
I have won... - No! It only
seems so to you. - Don't be absurd.
I am free. Do you hear me?
Translate to him,
you scoundrel, correctly!
I am free!
I and my nation!
I will annihilate half your nation!
- And the other half will eliminate you.
I will kill you! - I know that.
But you will also die here.
And before dying you will curse the one
who put you on the way of death.
Oh, don't trouble yourself,
you can't offend me.
I despise you too much for that,
and to show you this, I spit upon your face in front of children.
I will hang you! Impale him!
Let it be so,
give me fame by horror,
This is an old Ukrainian death!
Are you shaking?
Uliana has disappeared somewhere.
They said afterwards,
when she was brought for questioning
to the Commandant's office,
she, obeying inspiration, which
comes to each person once in their life,
killed two Gestapo officers
and two soldiers.
They also she she hid herself
at Doctor's Vyrskyi's,
and the doctor disfigured her face
with horrible lichen,
and covered her arms with a rash,
so that nobody could either recognize her,
nor take her by hand.
I've taken part in so many attacks, always
feeling no more than irritation and evil.
Hairs stand up on my head, my tongue won't obey,
stone images press one to the ground,
and the ground shakes and moves,
and pulls you, pulls, pulls!
And how you could stand up in it
if you are of sound mind!
Then such a moment comes, when one
of the company, that man or me
jumps up with swearwords
for the whole world... - Right!
And not Hurrah is heard already,
but something mixed.
And the whole of Russia is behind you.
Stern words you hear: Stand up! Go ahead!
Why are you rooted to the ground?
Go ahead! Don't loose a second!
One, two! Come on!
Kill! Kill! Kill!
Berlin here! Berlin broadcasts...
Heil, Heil, Heil! Partisans and
their aids are not to be taken prisoner.
Do not shoot them, but only hang them.
Well done! This is a real warrior!
He's alive!
Under chloroform and the knife
he still gives signals!
New York speaking.
We love your sacrifices.
We appreciate your heroism...
Each of our children admires you!
But still remember,
the Nazi are as cruel, as treacherous.
They are trying already to arouse
a dislike towards us, saying
that we spare our blood
and do not spare yours...
Stand up for war, god damn it!..
May you live one hundred years!
A bandage!
Moscow speaking! Brothers and sisters!
In this tremendous struggle of two worlds,
the destiny of humanity is decided.
It is being decided whether our culture will
continue to develop or will perish with us,
whether Ukraine will remain
a free Soviet Republic,
or will vanish from the face of the earth
becoming a Hitler colony forever...
I'll take command!
- No, I'm sorry, but I'm in charge here!
Then take it! So... Next one!
- I'll take command!
Follow me! Go forward! Hurray!..
THE SECOND FLAMING SUMMER HAS PASSED.
I'm sleeping, where are you pulling me!
I'm alive! Put me back!
They were lying against the oven,
Demyd and Tetiana Orliuk.
An oven without heat.
The whole village up to the river was burnt down,
and Zarichia was full of occupants.
He-e-e-elp!"
We are Germans now, so we are,
and our children are lost.
They will wander foreign lands.
What are you saying Demyd?!
There will be no Germany here.
Indeed? Well, thank you.
Everything will pass.
It will pass like the snowstorm.
Is it you, Tetiana?
Me, Demyd, it's Tetiana.
Do you feel unwell?
Sing to me, Tetiana, a Christmas carol.
- Christmas carol?
Indeed, maybe I am dying.
I want to sleep so much.
And here is Christmas already,
the guests will come, Ivan with the girls.
Ivan!.. Sing to me about our Ivan!
About Ivan? Good, Demyd...
Brave fellow Ivanochku...
smashed through the gates,
The Holy Evening!
Oh, smashed through the gates
into other lands,
The Holy Evening!
Orliuk!
- Orliuk!
Senior Sergeant Orliuk at your command!
Did you receive your mission?
- Yes, General.
This mission, Orliuk, is of
exceptional importance.
Its success will mean not only our victory,
it will allow us to save thousands of people.
Tomorrow we will lose about...
All right, I won't foretell.
All in all, much will depend on
the success of your reconnaissance.
Do you understand?
- Yes, General!
I entrusted it to you.
- The order will be... fulf... - Wait.
Firstly, you must carry out
this order with your section right now.
Operate with knife, bayonet, whatever,
but without any shot, any cry. Understood?
Agreed, then.
Complete silence.
Capture a prisoner for interrogation.
- Yes, Sir!
And one more thing.
I give you an order to return alive.
Yes, Sir: carry it out silently and
capture a prisoner for interrogation!
That is all.
- Allow me to begin? - Go!
Sergeant Orliuk!
- Orliuk!
Yes, Sergeant Orliuk!
Do you remember me? - Yes. - And you
recognized me at once? - Yes, Sir.
Why didn't you tell me? - Sorry,
General. - It's wrong, but still?
I criticised you greatly at that time.
- Foul language? - I used everything.
Well done!
He carries a wounded division commander,
and swears at him all five kilometres!
It's my fault, General. I didn't see who
he was. Only that he was one of our personnel.
And started to scold?
- No, you started to cry and scold.
And then I realized that you could
drown me in your nervous condition. - So?
I hit you to put you to sleep.
- With what - My fist, what else.
- And I fell asleep? - Right! - Well done! Swam
across with me? - Yes, Sir. Then carried on myself.
And after crossing the river we both carried you.
That fellow, who helped me later, lieutenant,
he said he was your son.
Vitaliy?
-Yes, Sir.
Vitaliy is no longer alive, Orliuk...
Very well, thank you for ever, brother.
As they say, mountains never come together...
...but people come together, General.
Allow me to fulfil the task?
Go soldier, carry out your duty!
...Am I finished now or not?
Finished or not?
No! I am very young and for me it is more
natural to think about the enemy's death.
And on the whole, I may think only
about the good, I had a good dream...
A little bit to the right,
aha, to the right...
So, only about the good!..
I kill them, I may think about this.
I imagine this exactly...
I look at my watch:
twelve o'clock...
Happy New Year, citizens of the whole world!
New happiness to you!..
...They write. One can write anything:
the privilege of dying in combat. What privilege?
It's not for me! Rather give me as much
makhorka as my heart desires.
Without it I'm no soldier, damn Hitler,
Goering, Goebbels, Ribbentrop, all fascism...
Or give me vodka, 100 ml. Whatever!
Give it me once every three days,
so I can feel and understand myself!
And there's a snowstorm here,
forgive me, God!..
So, where are you, fascist scum, where?
Oh, the wind, the wind, a soldier's luck,
shield me from the enemy with a snowstorm!
Resolute and awful
I creep towards the hated goal.
Yes or no... yes or no?
Yes or no?
Yes! surely I move.
And all in all, good luck...
Get ready!
For the Fatherland!
Bless me, mother...
Quiet.
...and Ivan didn't listen to his mother.
And he was right,
to fight means to shed blood.
He waves his sword before the army,
Christmas night... Christmas night...
May I report, General!
The order is fulfilled!
Good, good... and where is Orliuk?
Ah, it's you, Orliuk?
Give him wine.
Complete silence, comrade General.
- How are you? Wounded?
No.
It was disgusting.
And a King doesn't know,
he asks of his army,
Christmas night!
Oh, if only I knew
whose son he was fighting
Christmas night!
I would give my daughter
in marriage to him
Christmas night
Tetiana, call for the frost, and let us have dinner.
Sit down Ivan, sit down daughters.
Hey, frost, frost, come eat the kutya!
Frost, frost, come...
THE THIRD FLAMING SUMMER HAD PASSED.
Ukraine was in flame
from the Don to the Dnipro.
Huge flames lit the Dnipro
from from upper reaches of Polissia
to the lower reaches of Zapurizhia.
Beaten in cruel battles, Hitler's troops
retreated over the Dnipro.
Hitler's Germans
retreated with all their satellites
under the destructive strike
of the Soviet Union.
Fully armed with military experience,
achieved in the battles for Moscow,
Stalingrad, Voronezh, Kursk,
Belgorod, Kharkiv on the Don
and many other battles,
the Soviet forces came to the Dnipro.
The Dnipro! I swam in these waters!
This is my river, brothers!
This is my shore. Look, on the opposite side
can you see pear and cherry trees?
On the mountain.
They are mine!
And my house is behind the cherry-trees...
To the right! Keep to the right!
Hurry up!
?Baikal",
I am "Rama", I am ?Kama?...
Ready... we begin!
Only one hour is left.
Forget for this hour all orders,
difficulties, the whole war mechanism.
Go to the soldiers and
tell them what's most important.
And the most important right now
is a good word.
They've no need for persuasion,
nor force. Kyiv is in front of them.
But the Dnipro doesn't become less deep
because of this, and the enemy no weaker...
This is a great night.
And do not avoid great words.
Measure life and death with great measure.
Tell a simple Soviet man,
a soldier...
Tell him, whose fathers
and forefathers prayed to God
for a crumb of immortality
from a one-kopeck candle...
Tell him, that immortality itself
knocks on his breast this very night.
Go.
Soldiers of the great Soviet Union,
we cross the Dnipro!..
Our forefathers brought Christianity
right here one thousand years ago.
And today we plunge into this sacred river!
It is a great river, and despite
all the bridges being blown-up,
we will be able to reach the opposite bank.
This is our duty before the Motherland!
Death to the fascist occupants!!
What shall we wish this night and
what wills shall we make to our descendants?
We will to them, brothers... I mean,
I want to say that if our time has come,
then we will to them immortality.
Death to the fascist occupants!
So, let me explain: in front of us is
not only the opposite bank of the river.
In front of us is another,
the bank of our fate.
Ready! The first boat is coming
under Orliuk's guidance.
Don't look back... one!
Complete silence... two!
Be all eyes... three!
Go!
Follow me!
Next!
Too late.
We need to cut off his arm.
Cut!
No, it would be better
to sent him to the rear.
Cut it quickly!
Next!
How do you feel?
- Not bad... quite good...
Tell me, Doctor, will I live?
- Live?
Certainly, why, of course!
Wait... doctor!
A bandage, don't I need one?
So, here I am...
Bandage...
I want to live!
Bandage me
and do everything necessary.
You assume that I am dead?
Bandage, bandage me...
I want to live!
Do you think we can save him?
- He's saved him himself already.
Hold it like this...
Come on, hold, damn it... Do it!
Only look how handsome he is.
What a chest!
And what a shoulder!
What legs! And a neck!
And what a stride!
Did you see how he entered?
As lithe as a God...
Camphor!
Well... good. Oh, what a fellow!
Just look at his muscles!
The way he entered!
- But how did he enter?
He was a bed-patient!
- What you know about this! A hen!
How you dare offend me!
- Sorry...
Where all this strength?
He had no pulse!
He had a will... Hold it!
Do you think he'll live?
- He'll outlive the both of us! Hold it!
Believe me, he's already done more to rescue
his life than we're doing now... Bandage!
You have won the decisive battle
with almost no means for success.
Thank you,
you have taught me how to live!
I worship the generosity of your will.
Alive, Orliuk!
- Well done, Orliuk!
Wounded comrades!
Kyiv has been liberated!
Long live victory!
Long live a little to me as well,
Sergeant Orliuk, here it is, my station.
Good luck, my comrades!
- Good-bye, Orliuk!
Greet your house and family from us!
Don't stay too long!
Is he home or not?
He is home. Here it is, his hut:
White with a warm, thatched roof,
the architectural mother of human shelter.
Never closed, always open
to everyone, no need to knock.
No "May I come in" and no "Come in".
A dwelling as simple as a good word.
And rational, as if it were built
by nature and not by human hands.
I don't belaud you, my old hut...
I wish you farewell.
I told you before the great war: vanish from
the face of my land, become a mansion,
cover yourself with iron, grow, rise above
the gardens, resound up and outwards.
Even if it won't be you,
let grief and troubles
disappear from your dark corners
and cold inner porch.
Good-bye! How I suffer.
It's a shame.
There was such a good smell
of old times and peace in you,
a smell of mint and dried pinks,
and your durable, lavish furnace
smelled of borsch and fresh bread.
You are no more,
and there is nowhere to rest my head.
Is that you?- Ivan!
- Uliana? Ulia!
Ivan!
And the snow reappears
Oh, how many times I've dreamed
I'm taking you away from the battlefield.
Hundreds of times it felt like
I'm carrying you away.
You, Ivanochku.
But how did you survive?
I don't know.
And you?
Me... I don't know also.
What? That's the limit for the Commander!
We're developing the attack plan here
and he's carrying out a ceremony.
Who let you in here? Your surname?
- Orliuk.
General! Let me hand you a package!
So, how are you?
- I'm in my homeland, comrade Commander.
And I beg you, General, do us the honour,
that we remember this day
as a holiday our whole life long!
I see. The only thing is
I don't know how to carry this out.
I never had the chance to do this.
And how would you like it to be carried out?
I don't know, General, but something
different from what we had before war.
We would like something fine
and somewhat solemn.
Exactly, somewhat solemn,
in conformity with the location.
Petrov!
Prepare my civilian suit!
Well... I will try,
but let me think a little bit.
Is it me? Is it really me?
How good!
How nice it is that I am like this!
How fortunate that
I am not decaying in a pit,
not languishing in slavery,
that I'm alive and as I am!
They seized some town,
but I didn't hear which. - Which one?
I was in the market.
- Which town ? Who said so?
I was selling seedlings
and buying pinks and poppies.
Are you deaf, aunt? Deaf?
I was thinking, let it bloom.
I love when the garden's in flower.
I remember my mother saying:
?This world is like a poppy, blooming in
the morning, falling in the evening." That's it.
So, with Germany.
What did they do? Become partisans,
and started shooting fascists,
your Orliuks.
And I carried them in the boat to fight,
those partisans.
But, obviously, they weren't
destined to reach the shore.
Every single one of them was shot.
I was the only one who survived.
And I didn't notice right away that
they were dead and continued speaking:
?Oh, don't shake the boat,
my sons, don't shake it!"
And they captured me and took me for
questioning just as I was, wet and beaten.
But I told them: ?Don't ask me,
I'll tell you nothing, you disgust me.
You may kill me, as you killed my children,
may you've be defeated on the road
and let the very soil spurn you..."
That's it, my dear, for sure:
since then I've become deaf...
I talk too much. I must go dig the vegetable
garden, let me take the greatcoat out... - I won't!
I'll lock it in the chest, aunty, so my
children and grandchildren can see it...
Look at it! What'll they see?
Only holes perhaps...
So much they'll see.
You must forget it all
and not stir up old feelings.
Put it out of your mind and think
about the beautiful and good.
Here, they're coming! Oh, help!
...all the girls sat on the benches,
sat on the benches...
Uliana?! Comrades, just look! No, just look!
The real Renaissance picture!...
Let's go!
Let me bless the children. Who've neither father,
nor mother. Alone, like blades of grass...
No, we are not alone, aunty, we wish
everyone such a feeling of fellowship.
...Let noble rage break as a wave
There is a people's war, a holy war
Let noble rage break as a wave
There is a people's war, a holy war
Please, repeat after me:
''According to the Law of the
Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
we, Ivan Demydovych Orliuk
and Uliana Vasylivna Riasna,
express our will to live together..."
''...as a husband and a wife...''
"the founders of a family and continuors
of it in the name of life's fulfilment..."
"in the name of
the welfare of our State,
immortality of our people
and personal welfare.''
Witnesses!
Give wine to the married couple!
Kiss each other.
Hurrah for the newly-weds!
I didn't know your parents, Ivan and Uliana.
-They were martyrs!
They were heroes!
- They were Soviet people,
and I, being born by the Volga river,
worship their handsomeness,
as only handsome people could bring up on
the Dnipro river such children.
In great times you have
united your hands, Ivan and Uliana.
We are defeating the immense
and most wicked power, Fascism.
I know that our people will be testing
our weapons for a long time,
and counting our wounds.
They will brighten with gratitude
or stiffen from hate,
they will be proud of us, will be afraid of us,
we will frighten one another,
they will capitalise on our weak points,
underestimate our victory
and our shed blood.
Act, children, youngsters.
You have grasped the terrible art of war.
Grasp the art of living!
Be lavish with love,
with cries of giving birth!
But keep in mind, Uliana, that the she-wolf
also gives birth to her young.
But they grow,
becoming wolves on the earth.
It is a great thing
for a mother to give birth,
but far greater is to give birth
and raise a friend, not a wolf,
a brother, not a plunderer.
Who else, if not us, have grasped,
while performing this historical campaign,
have witnessed how the war has
cruelly offended the Soviet mother.
And dear ladies, our young men have
seen you in their dreams,
but not in soldiers' boots
nor grey greatcoats. - Right!
You were in your best dresses,
your best attire in front of their young eyes.
But history has made its own choice.
It has put on your feminine shoulders
the rough cloth of a warrior,
and sent you not music but a gun's roar,
and searing flames instead of flowers.
A putrid smell
and no Parisian perfumes!
Let us praise our Russian greatcoat,
and never forget how we wore it
along the roads of battle,
how we carried our banners!
Soon, all the Soviet forces, from
the Polissia marshes up to the Black Sea,
rushed westwards.
Cities were liberated,
thousands of villages too.
Many people would never return home:
would never see their families,
their skies, their beautiful lands.
They would carry the glory of their Fatherland
through many cities, falling there forever.
Some would fall near Lviv,
some near Sandomierz, Warsaw, or Budapest,
and some, near Berlin itself.
But no one thought of that.
There was no time.
Never perhaps, has history tightened itself
in such a monstrous clod.
Never did those millions of hearts
beat so forcefully.
Never did a man appear more generous
in strength, with such greatness of spirit,
than in the immense Soviet heart
during the World War.
Fill your glasses!
Gentlemen, please be seated.
This night, gentleman,
a wonderful thought came into my mind.
I noticed that all those Russian marshals
totally ignore military science.
As a result, you see, the entire tank armies
were left unused in dirt!
We, my wife and I, noticed it at once...
I'm married, gentlemen, you know,
married to Hitler.
I suppose, you are aware that our Fuhrer
is a woman. Not taking into account
moustaches
and eastern living space.
One... two... three... good.
By the way, who thought
of that eastern living space?
And why it is living and not fatal?
Answer! General Guimmelshtok!
- I'm not General Guimmelshtok!
And where is he? - He's been killed. - And
what did I say? - "General Guimmelshtok"!
It's not true, I didn't say it.
Colonel Gauss is also killed? Isn't he?
Gauss, Schmidt, von Goediger,
aren't they? Ratzenau...
Field-Marshal Manstein.
- I'm sorry,
Aren't you Field-Marshal von Manstein?
- No, I'm Captain Schultz.
Of course! - I'm not a Field-Marshal...
- But you've been killed, Field-Marshal!
No! - I saw you with my own eyes
before your death, Field-Marshal!
I'm not a Field-Marshal, you're wrong!
You took flight with a marshal's baton
across this living space.
And then... you fell as well.
I have a headache.
Oh, children of Germany!
Oh, orphans and widows of a great country!
General von Brenner stands knee-deep in mud.
His watery eyes, lacking any sign of thought.
are directed backwards, towards
the bloody path up to the Volga.
How many minds were lost, how many hard-
working hands in the prime of their lives!
What masters, skilled craftsmen,
what great talents covered the ground
with their corpses for thousands of miles!
Grievous fame...
In the middle of the 20th century, when all
were ready to create a paradise on earth,
the whole constellation of nations,
large and small,
what did your fallen fathers do to Europe,
poisoned with the lifeless idea of fascism?
As previous wars gave
no lesson to your fathers,
then at least see clearly now
by the light of burning buildings:
that threats and military venture
can achieve nothing in this world
but grief and ruination.
I am disabled, father!
I can see.
You're disabled indeed.
Does it hurt?
- I wake at night and touch... Nothing!
What misfortune!
Disabled people are also different, son,
as everybody in the world.
One can be disabled
through cowardice or even vodka!
Don't make me angry, father.
I attacked!
It doesn't matter: if you attacked or not.
The war is finishing.
It's the Belgorod bulge! You see?
Let it be a bulge,
only don't show it so much,
so that people aren't so embarrassed
to look at you. - Meaning what?
Nothing in particular. Don't bother folk.
It's hard enough for them without your bulge.
So, you'd better thank your lucky stars
and keep to yourself:
Don't booze, don't cry
and keep yourself from lying.
Why? Because from a wound to a lie is only
a short step. I know from my own experience.
This is grief.
What else to say?
Why grief? It's luck.
He's returned alive!
Keep quiet with your luck: luck, luck!
The Fatherland nearly perished,
one had to shed blood!
Mother!
Daughter! Mariia!
Are you alive?
Or am I dreaming, Mariia?!
It's me, mother!
- She's returned... people!
Mum, how are you.
And Pavlo?
Did you hear from Pavlo?
Did he return?
He's home.
- Pavlo! Home?
Where is he? Pavlo!..
He stands in the square.
- In the square? Why?
Waiting for you.
Didn't you meet him?
I didn't see him,
I walked by the lower road.
Oh God! How is he?
Is he wounded? - He's fine.
Was he at war?
- He fought a long time.
What was he?
- A captain.
A captain? Really, mother?
Or a hero...
I don't remember now. People said...
I must dash!
- Go quietly.
Don't scare me, mother!
Walk slowly, my dear,
gather your strength.
Alright mother, I'll go.
How my heart beats.
I'm so afraid, mother!
...Oh, I shall walk, a young girl,
not by the water meadow.
Maybe return with a friend,
who is not a promised husband.
Oh, I shall walk, a young girl, by the water
meadow. No. through the valley...
Oh, I walk, a young girl!
Wait, this is a song. It's a song!..
Why? I'll tell it in my own words.
Such words that I have.
Not in any song.
It's impossible to say everything, I know.
But I will gather all my strength
to tell all my sorrows, sufferings.
Where is he? Why can't I see him?
Pavlo, answer me!
This is your unlucky Mariia,
returned from captivity, your wife.
I've brought you my shame and suffering,
a child of an unknown father.
Kill us both, or spare our lives,
if you are a hero.
Where am I? Pavlo!..
Where are you death?
Where are you, my beauty, my swallow?
Spare my feelings. Where do you wander,
with other men, my dark sister?
Come back, smile at me bitterly...
I don't want to live!
Pavlo! Pavlo!
Seek consolation, woman,
while you are young, fulfil your destiny.
Let my mother's old age cry for me.
What is my destiny?
How can I console myself?
Through labour, love, children.
Where may I find this?
- In a favourable flow of good times.
And if there are no good times for me?
There are so many of us in this world!
Then exalt yourself in your suffering.
No, I can't. I don't want to,
I'm too small and weak for suffering.
I'm unable to think about the great.
I know of no other ways out.
Probably, there are none.
Do you tell me the truth, my great hero?
- I'm neither great nor hero,
but I did my best for my Fatherland
in great times and with great people.
And here I am, the bronze one,
guarding the generations.
Not thinking much of the great myself.
Not always talking well
and sometimes my jokes fell flat.
You always laughed at others.
I worked hard, was always busy,
and I loved you too little,
in spite of being born for peace and love.
- I forgive you.
I didn't cherish you enough
and sometimes even forgot you.
The war drove me to drink
and I was driven by pity.
I was severe, often even rough, to not
weaken among curses, shouts for mercy
and so many other hardships.
My time was the time of oaths,
and I fulfilled my oath until the moment
when I was smashed into bloody pieces.
A martyr!
No, I suffered only a moment.
I was attacking then,
an enemy that ran before me.
Tell your children exactly this:
my enemies ran before me.
They ran.
What a sky, Ivan!
Look, our war is over...
Not yet.
How immense and incredible this life is!
What a war! - Yes!
All this seems as a dream.
- Oh yes...
It's as if we've lived a century.
- Yes!
Do you, remember how, before the war,
I told you of my thirst for life. - Yes.
I always wanted to become double,
to split into a hundred parts,
and my each part would then
live and create, and learn a different good,
and all these parts were me. - I remember.
Do you regret anything from those times?
- No. - Do you love me? - I love you.
I love everything in you.
I love so much the ground you trod.
I love the very air you breathe.
- My darling!
My dear, I love you, as I love
bread and honey and water.
I close my eyes, speak...
I killed a lot.
- Stop it. - I will.
And I have many wounds too...
- No, no.
Tell me what you're thinking.
I think that we are
standing again at the beginning of life.
We have the most important work,
all the beauty, which artists look for.
All sunrises and sunsets,
all the grass, all flowers,
all that is dear and sweet to man.
All this is ours now,
The evening and morning dew...
The dew... Ivanochku,
I like the morning dew so much!
Many never enjoyed the dew.
- Worthless.
They don't need the dew. They've another
happiness. Neither do they need the sunrise.
They never stepped barefooted on the dew.
-They have thin, evil feet.
I would make them walk on the dew.
- It's impossible right now. - Why?
It's costly, but this moment will come.
Man will return to the morning dew.
And gardens will blossom around him.
And it will be impossible to kill,
or even quarrel in this garden.
You're right, I remember.
- But now man needs a roof, not the dew.
I don't need a roof.
I want to sleep with you under open skies...
and see the stars.
Who's there? - Kyivers. Duke Sviatoslav
and his warriors. We are your dream.
No... no... could one person come in dream
to another after one thousand years?
In this place, yes... this is an old shore,
and my boats stood right there.
But so many years have passed!
Centuries have passed!..
They have gathered now around your bed,
links of old times and coming years.
I don't understand... I can't understand,
Ivan, are you sleeping? Ivan...
What old grass, and it smells the same,
and the same stars.
And the Dnipro was already old when
my thoughts took me away to the Danube.
Is that you, Ivanochku? - What happened?
- Were you sleeping? - No. - No?
I thought of the Danube.
- When? Tell me when it was?
I don't know. I'm sleeping.
And what did you say?
Ivanochku, what was it?
It was a feeling.
But it was just a dream.
But could we both have had the same dream?
Hold me, Hold me.
Oh, God, how fine...
What stars! How happy we are!
Can one really be so happy?
Raise it up higher,
So all our descendants can see!..
Uliana Vasylivna!
Uliana Vasylivna!
Uliana Vasylivna, let me thank you for
the liberation from the German fascist yoke.
Was it you who painted
over the portraits in the handbooks?
Me? I had to.
Horrible things were happening here.
First, I thought... - What?
- No, nothing, I swear by my honour.
That I, that is, would you believe,
I nearly ran away to the guerrillas.
And what prevented you?
- Well, I didn't manage to.
You don't know, you can't
run away from fascists.
They are terrible enemies of humanity.
I cried... I hated them! -
Did you sabotage?
Any armed resistance?
Did you train pupils and their parents
to be firm? - What is this, a court?
Today the whole world is judged,
all nations,
philosophy, history, politics.
The present and the past, human and heroic
are at law with the worthless and the criminal.
Yeah... well... let... me...
- Who are you? What use are you?
What have you learned from this terrible
sense of war? What were you doing here?
You don't know what went on here!
The whole world is...
Whatever happened here
will never happen again.
This was the time for heroes and martyrs.
I wish you'd become one of them.
You've spent
your whole life on tiptoe.
Ulyana Vasylivno, did you kill fascists?
- No, children, I didn't.
I only saved the lives of our soldiers.
- Taras killed two.
Three.
- Taras who? - Bovkun!
Taras, did you really shoot?
- They were fascists...
Last winter they killed our father
and his father, grandfather and Halka too.
Four officers came, ate supper,
sat to play cards, got drunk.
He threw the incendiary bomb
under the icons!
And now, when I grow up, I'll be Tarasova.
- I've seen enough!..
Listen to me children. Today is a great day.
Our forces have freed our Fatherland
and are fighting the enemy on their
own territory. We shall have no lessons.
Today we shall talk about
what you will do when you grow up.
I want to rescue the wounded,
I'll be a nurse.
Good. What do you want?
- I want some bread.
I want some bread too.
- I want a sub-machine gun.
I want to cry, and I want to eat.
And Vasia Stupak will marry.
I'll speak for myself.
- Do you want to marry, Stupak?
I think so. I've never thought
about it before, but now I have.
But you're still little.
How old are you?
Thirteen. The policemen killed my father
and then hanged my mother.
And I've two small children to look after,
and the cow ready to calf,
and I must work in the vegetable garden.
That's why I think...
I'll marry a orphan and start living.
I realise that I haven't grown-up yet,
but I can't let the children be lost.
Do I wait? I don't know.
Will the kolkhoz leave me to die
with my children, what do you think? - Never!
The kolkhoz helped the State to survive,
Stupak, and it will help you, undoubtedly.
Today we'll come to your house to help you.
- So, I don't need to marry?
Don't marry. You will study.
Do you want to study?
- No. Not much.
- Why not? - Because...
But you may study and then become a great man.
- My father didn't, but he was a great man.
I know, your father was a great man,
he was an organizer, a kolkhoz head,
as well as a great partisan and communist,
but if he was also learned...
Germans!
Hordiiu Ivanovychu! Open the door.
I'll die! - I don't know you!
For God's sake! - I... I don't know you!
- It's me! - I don't know you! - Hrybovskyi!
I don't know you! This is provocation!
I'm busy! Do you hear me!
Just open the door! Do you hear me?!
Open the door or I'll kill you!
Comrade, stop it!
The accused Hrybovskyi!
The accused Hrybovskyi, answer!
I don't understand...
The accused Shchruder,
do you recognize this man?
No.
You don't recognize him as an agent
of fascist intelligence Hrybovskyi?
- No.
The accused Kurbatskyi!
I don't know. I've never seen him.
The witness Mandryka?
- Here I am.
What is your name?
- Hordii Pavlovych.
Date of birth?
- Wait... 1910.
Occupation?
- Teacher.
Where were you during the fascist occupation?
- Nowhere, I swear. Here. Do you think I could...?
Do you recognize the accused, who rushed into
your flat, the Ukrainian nationalist Hrybovskyi?
Who destroyed a third of our village,
our school, who killed the headmaster
with the others executioners?
Do you recognize him?
That one, what's his name? This man seems
to be him and not him at the same time.
It's difficult to say
whether it's him or not.
Ask the people,
they may know more, and then I'll...
I need to look closer...
He's weaving a web.
The witness Virskyi, Pavlo Danylovych!
- Here.
How old are you? - Fifty.
- Your occupation? - Doctor.
Did you work for the fascists?
- No.
Did you escape from
the concentration camp? - Yes.
Did you infect people in our village with a rash?
- Yes. With a rash, herpes, trachoma...
He saved us from slavery!
Don't ask too much.
One can die from such memories.
Calm down.
You're a witness here.
I'm not a witness.
The world you're asking about,
is the witness...
Comrade prosecutor, be specific.
Do you recognize this man?
Who is this man?
He is not a man.
- Hrybovskyi?
Bring the executed in!
Olena Stupakova!
- Here.
Age? - 24. We're the same age.
- Are you a widow?
They killed Andrii, he was a partisan.
And they also killed my two children,
and my father Andrii.
I'm a widow and orphan,
completely bereaved.
Were you shot?
- I was. Me? I was.
Why do you smiling so?
- Pay no attention to it.
I can't control my smile. - Nothing makes
you laugh now, citizen Stupakova?
Do you want to cry?
- I want to do something. To work.
Don't worry. We will
work with you together soon.
To the surprise of the whole world,
but don't laugh.
I ask you not to laugh.
I'm not laughing, Vaniu,
I'm crying,
just as you are.
Question me!
I'll tell everything!
- One moment!
The accused Shchruder, stand here.
The accused Shchruder,
tell us, did your government plan
to eliminate all the Ukrainians,
who had separatist intentions?
Yes. I'm Hrybovskyi.
There he is! Oh, what a sly one!
I see him and recognize him.
He's a real villain!.. Terrible...
I'll tell, everything. - What foreign
intelligence services are you a member of?
German, and French...
- The accused,
write down which intelligence services.
- What was your last task?
To create a sabotage group in the rear.
- Who gave you that task?
Shchruder.
-Shchruder, do you confirm this?
No.
Rather, yes.
- Why though?
When I see this person
I want to reject everything.
Ivan, tell him that I curse him!
You're a murderer,
a stony-hearted monster,
how you can live on this earth!
You've humiliated the status of a man.
- I personally did nothing.
You're lying.
You behaved yourself on our land
not as an officer of occupation forces,
but as a murderer.
It is a political question.
And politics is free from morality.
This is war,
and we all act in its orbit.
As Nietzshe said:
War is everlasting and moral.
No!
It's not everlasting
nor is it moral.
It disappears together with your dark force.
How dare you reject all your evil deeds here?
No. I just wanted to say that I acted
not only in compliance with military oath,
but in compliance with what
I've been taught. - Hrybovskyi
In compliance with
what knowledge did you act?
In what name did you lie,
provoking treason, on selling our Ukraine,
our nation into slavery. Causing
our nation's death?- Wait. I'll explain.
When I came to the Ukraine with them,
I understood I was an outsider.
I acted under fear of death,
rage and vengeance...
Wait! I'll tell you everything!
They're handing out leaflets.
- Which?
About uncle Roman! He hit six tanks!
Who?
- Uncle Roman!
Listen... I'm fed up
with listening to these scum.
Enough. Work is waiting!
The people aren't interested in
your declarations, they're busy.
They're handing out leaflets!
'Your son crushed six fascist tanks in the
unequal battle on the border. Six tanks.
Quiet!
Only our nation's best sons, for whom nothing is
more important than their Fatherland's defence,
only such people are able
to work wonders of valour!
The moment, when the enemy
will finally be beaten, is not far away!
Thank you, father of a hero!
The Military Council of the battle-front.
Here you have Roman!
What will you say, Semen Vlasovych?
I don't know!
It seems to be
some sort of propaganda or a lie.
How could that be, six tanks at once?!
Is this duck hunting in the swamp?
Why the hell do we need to make these tanks,
why spoil good iron, if this can happen?
This is none of our business.
This is how it is.
Alright then.
If that's how it is... that's how it is
Let it be...
I agree.
Hello!
- How is Loboda?
How is Bukhalo? - Fine, they're fighting.
Loboda, Bukhalo, and Harkavenky.
A father and his sons.
Have you seen my Opanas?
I'm sorry, your Opanas is no longer alive.
Opanas and Levko Chepurnyi too.
And is it true that you blew up
something by yourself? - Six tanks!
With what? - With bottles! I thought I could
use these bottles. So I throw one and it burns.
When they broke through to the trenches,
I threw another! It burns!
I rushed to the trench.
The third tank I'd already hit.
Then I again threw! And it again burns!
So, I rushed to my comrades, and
they started kissing me. "Wait!! Fools,
stop kissing me. Give me bottles quickly".
I took the bottles and rushed back, damn it!
Are you telling the truth?
- Why would I lie? Everyone saw it.
How did you throw them? - As my
commander taught me. On the tank's rear.
Is the tank's rear weak?
Who knows.
Yeah! I forgot! I lost my jacket there,
what a shame.
Your jacket?! Where? - There. I took off
my jacket while throwing the bottles.
It might be lost in the fire or ruined
under tank tracks. What a pity!
I told you not to take a jacket. Now
you'll do without a jacket, you a warrior!
Well, father, that's war for you.
Here, each to his own fate.
What times we live in!
To spoil such a jacket!
Well, we must be happy. Never mind!
Please, come in for lunch.
Stop, man!
Here is your world,
eternal and beautiful.
And you live in it
for such a short moment.
Be happy and good.
Rest from the routine,
the ordinary, the shabby.
Look!
No!
The best of the planets, our motherland,
Mother Earth, will never cease to exist.
We will disappear from your surface,
one generation succeeding another,
like waves in the ocean.
But while vanishing,
we will always say:
Thank you! Thank you for
your bread, grapes and wine!
Thank you for arrival and departure,
for Spring and Autumn, days and nights!
For the evening dew and morning dew!
For love and labour.
For the precious blood, shed in the name of
liberty and the brotherhood of all nations.
For understanding
the principal secret of your life.
The secret of our human universality.
We are your children
and we are your measure:
You are wonderful!
What beauty!
- What are you thinking of, tell me?
Would you like to
live here in other times?
In the times of Duchess Olga,
Dukes Yaroslav and Khmelnytskyi?
Or in 100 years?
Right now.
- Me too.
We have indeed, stood up for
all the past centuries, all our history,
the past and the future.
Are you happy? Yes?
- Yes.
I'm happy I've not become wicked, and will
continue to live without hatred or fear.
That I have found my own place on earth.
In this handful of collective farm seeds,
there is much more sense in this, indeed,
than in the whole of fascist history.
Did you notice what they are sowing?
- I did. - Here they come.
Our people above the war.
These are your father's immortal words.
Which battle can
compare with this scene!
Oh, my God! Don't throw it,
- Put it on the ground!
Hold it! Son of a bitch!
Get out of here,
Antonina, damn you!
Go away, don't come any closer.
Throw it.
- Hold it! Don't throw it, don't throw!
Ivan, come back!
Don't come close!.. Ivan!
Don't throw it, you'll kill yourself!
Take that!
Ulia, what's wrong with you?
You're a hardened fighter. - Ivanochko,
that was something else.
That was war, and this...
is life.
Director-Yuliya Solntseva
Directors of photography: F. Provorov, A. Temerin
Production designer-A. Borisov
Original music by Gavriil Popov
Sound editors: I. Urvantsev, Ya. Kharon
Assistantdirector- L. Basov
Oinematography by V. Minayev
Film editors - K. Moskvina, A. Abramova
Makeup - I. Ohechenin
Oostumedesigners: Sh. Bykhovskaya, G. Yepishin
Set decorator-A. Samulekin
Visual effects:
Camera operator-B. Travkin;
Designer M. Semenov
Supervising editor- I. Rostovtsev
Assistant director-A. Chemodurov
Military consultant-general of the army M. Popov
Oonductor- G. Gamburg
Production managers: L. Kanareykina, I. Soluyanov
Narrator- Sergey Bondarchuk
Ivan Orliuk - M. Vinhranovskyi
Uliana - S. Zhgun
Major Velychko - M. Mayorov
Mariia -Z. Kiriyenko
Fon Brenner-B. Bibikov
Shchruder-V. Akuraters
Hrybovskyi -V. Zeldin
Mandryka -B. Noviykov
Roman Klunnyi ye. Bondarenko
Semen Klunnyi -A. Romanenko
Antonina A. Bogdanova
Demyd S. Petrov
Tetiana -V. Kapustina
Olena Stupakova M. Bulgakova
Also: V. Vitrishchak, P. Vinnik, V. Gulyaev, Ye. Maksimova,
L. Parkhomenko, A. Pokrovskiy, N. Sazonova, V. Seleznev,
A. Khovanskiy, E. Shutov, G. Yukhtin, L. Lobov
Subs revision: corvusalbus
The World War has finished!
I stand with a submachine gun
at the threshold of a new era and think:
What a powerful dark force
we've managed to beat, damn it!
Troops pass in front of me
They are my comrades.
Standing like a commander
I give them way, though I am
neither a general, nor a marshal.
I am a common sergeant, Ivan Orliuk,
collective farmer, Trans-Dnipro Region,
in other words,
an ordinary victor in the World War.
But, the number of our comrades fallen
in battle for the liberation from fascism
is greater than any other nation's
soldiers, throughout the world.
And I myself have shed enemy's blood
and suffered hardships too.
Being a person born for good, so I must
introduce myself to my contemporaries,
friends and enemies of the whole world,
together with my wife, mother and father,
with the whole home, as they say, with
the well, I drank water from once,
with the garden, were I experienced
the first callouses on my hands.
With all my family and my fortune.
Oleksandr Dovzhenko
CHRONICLE OF THE FLAMING YEARS
Nightfall in the year 1941,
farewell spirits stretched over the Dnipro.
Parents said good-bye to their children,
husbands to wives, brothers to sisters.
Two loves departed,
as did their hopes.
The might-have-been marriage,
unrealized maternity.
It was windy that night.
Disturbing clouds floated
in from the West, from Germany.
The smell of fire and the dead.
They rushed good-byes, despite
the restraining tugs, leaving hastily
as if in pursuit of
their uncommon destinies.
That night nobody knew
the size of the coming events.
Not the main character
of our chronicle, Ivan Orliuk.
He only felt, going out
towards the West with his regiment,
that great times had come.
And he kept silent under the influence
of the strangeness of his feeling.
Oh God, forbid that my son, a warrior,
fall into death's hands.
His name is Ivan, my fortune,
Ivan Orliuk,
and I am his mother!
I stand at dawn and nightfall,
spelling the roads.
I stand at midnight
over the abyss of grief,
that he not be defeated
by any sword, any fire, any waters,
my son, my defender!
The accused Ivan Orliuk,
during arrest
this item has been found.
What is this?
Answer, what is this?
Soil. - Which soil?
- Ukrainian.
So. Were you a member of the Komsomol?
- But I am a member of the Komsomol.
Let it be. And what is this for?
I took this to keep in mind Ukraine,
as we left.
Early dawn, a woman cried and said
this was the Ukraine border, the frontier.
So?
- Then I stepped back,
went down on my knees and said:
"Farewell to you, Ukraine!''
What else did you say?
- Nothing more.
Let me recall...
It seems that was all.
Yes.
Continue. You may continue to
tell us your biography, but be brief.
So I tell you that when
we were gathering in a hayfield,
we were walking around
stacks of grain.
All my childhood I walked on grain.
It was everywhere, wherever you might turn.
In pots, in bundles, on poles in the porch,
in a shed under the roof,
in barrels, sacks, bags.
I often slept on grain. In the rye,
the millet and peas on the stove.
I love the smell of grain.
I grew up on grain. My mother gave me life in
grain too, harvest time under the haystack.
Enough. - But this is very important!
I'll explain it to you!
You'd better tell us about your crime.
How you killed two of your comrades?
Who, evidently, grew up amid the grain too.
But I told them: you mustn't think in
such a mean way. That is, I thought so.
What exactly? - About what they spoke of.
- But you had no right to shoot them.
No, I didn't. - So, you admit your guilt?
- No, as I explained to you....
Answer the questions exactly.
Did you kill them?
I shot them! Before shooting I asked
permission. - Whose did you ask?
Captain's Kravchyna.
- Captain Kravchyna had no right.
But a mine exploded first, he fell down
injured. Then I shot them myself.
Nobody gave you the right. Why not
own up to killing your two comrades?
My heart has gone mad!..
- Answer: yes or no?
- I... I can't say. - You stand
in front of the Military Tribunal.
You will be shot!
I will tell you.
-Then tell.
At that moment I also noticed
a little of their feeling in myself.
As if it flew through the air to me...
And this hurt me somehow,
and I became angry.
And there was no time
to think any more. And then...
how little of this soil is left.
So... And what did you say?
I said: Good-bye Ukraine, death to
Nazi occupants, and some more words.
And after that?
- Then we took this.
Then I saw that they threw it
in such a way...
I then said them, all in all, we began
to speak, and I understood
I will shoot these skunks or my oath will not
be worth a pin and I'll not return home.
So on the second night,
when the fascists broke through,
I saw them on their way to the village,
they hid in a haystack, so I rushed to my gun.
Stop where you stay, I say:
Betrayers and cowards of the Fatherland!
As defender of the Fatherland,
a Communist, and a judge,
I ask you to realize properly
what I will say to you:
even if you were my only son,
you would go...
To a penal company! At least
three days I will fight, please!
Three days. And then death?
Please! - How stupid you are! With the
surname of an eagle, and the brains of an ass.
You're not so far from
those fools you shot. No, my dear...
Comrade...
- Wait. - Comrade judge!
Air raid!
As for the grain, you spoke well.
I believe that sooner or later you, Orliuk,
will sow these seeds along the Dnipro...
- So, I didn't offend you with the grain?
With grain? No.
- I like sowing so much!
I like to plough, to mow, to thresh, but most of all I like to sow,
to plant, to grow, make things sprout.
It's as if I have a hundred hands.
Comrade judges,
I have such a magic touch.
Nowhere did it yield any better than
where I sowed. I was given a medal for it.
You know, I studied to be an agronomist...
They're coming! Ours are coming!
I am so envious of pilots
I didn't manage to become a pilot.
Fire at me.
Fire at me!
The enemy is close! Swallow here.
Do it! Do it!
Fire at me! Fire at me!
Fire at me!
Do it! Do it!
Fire at me! The fascists are near.
Do it!
Fire! Fire!
Listen to my order!
Do it! Swallow here!
The fascists are near! Do it!
Do it! Damn it!
We'll do it!
Get away, while it's safe!
Fire!
Battery, in position!
Fire against the enemy! Fire!
Tanks! Dubrovin, our tanks!..
Ivanochku, has returned!
Ivanochku, tell us something!
Why you're dressed in such a white shirt?
Because I'm starting second grade today.
But over there is war.
There's war, mother.
The whole world over, you can see it!
Is it on fire? - It's on fire, mother,
and for the next hundred years.
Ivan! Ivanochku!
Ivanochku has returned!
Ivan! Is it you, our Ivan?
I'm losing consciousness...
Uliana!
Is it you, Ivan?
- I'm alive!
We are alive! A simple wound...
Two. Now, hold it! Stop the blood!
Don't leave me, Stepan!
- I can't hear! I'm deaf!
Don't let me lie down!
Keep me upright!
And you fight it, stay up.
- I am . Oh, Styopa, I'm standing!
Stay up, don't give up.
Stay up! And we'll show who
we are again. Believe my Russian word!
Achtung!
School headmaster Vasyl Makarovych
Riasnyi was not an ordinary teacher.
The enlightenment of people was
the hereditary activity of his family.
Portraits of Chernyshevskiy, Pisarev,
Dobrolyubov, Ushinskiy, Shevchenko,
on which whole generations
of teachers were brought up,
these portraits were honoured in his house
together with portraits of Marx and Lenin.
Being exiled from Ukraine in 1918,
Yevhen Hrybovskyi became known to counter
intelligence services of many countries.
"Commercial traveller of terror",
as he was called in appropriate circles,
he sowed hate to his own nation#s government,
dreaming madly, about a campaign against Ukraine.
He was a "minus person" already, German
fascists did not believe any of his words
and disregarded him
as human dregs.
Prince Sviatoslav walked lightly,
like a panther.
He never took with him any carts
in campaigns, he never cooked meat...
Achtung!
But with horse-flesh, or beef,
he baked it on the coals.
He had no tent, nor bed.
This is my daughter,
Mr. Commissar,
please, enter next classroom.
Continue, the Commissar
would like to listen to your lecture.
Continue!
Prince Sviatoslav never attacked
his enemies without declaring war.
Being noble and a real Slavonian,
he always warned of his campaign:
I want to take the field against you...
He grew up right here,
were we did.
There by the mountain, in Vyshhorod,
his mother Olga lived.
Here, where Troian's house stands,
his horses pastured,
as horses of his father and
grandfather a thousand years ago.
When in 972 the Pechenizki hordes surrounded
the hero-Prince along Dnipro thresholds,
and he saw that there was no way out,
he still found a way out
for himself and his retinue.
With all wounded, and their swords blunt,
grief calling them to flee the battlefield,
he said:
Warriors, let us not shame Rus land,
let us fall in battle here.
The dead will feel no shame...
And then his warriors answered:
Prince, wherever
you will give up your life
we will also give up our lives there!
Death to fascist occupants?
What?
Very good.
Stand!
- Achtung!
Stand!
Mr. Commissar, it is just a lesson!
A lesson on our ancient history!
You will have a lesson
from a new history.
I respect femininity,
Though you deserve a bullet or a rope
according to laws of empire.
I do not need your pardon.
Mr. Commissar...
We're all member of the Komsomol!
- It's not true! You've no right to say so!
Uliana Vasylivna!
Tell them I'm not a member!
You? Certainly not.
How you can be a Komsomol member!
It doesn't matter if you are members
or not. You will all go to Germany today.
But we are studying.
You will not study. You will work.
It is stupid to study in a village.
Wait! It's impossible,
there's a mistake!
I don't believe it!
The Germany of Goethe, Schiller!
Leave it! It's tactless. The 3 youngest groups
will be left with teacher Mandryka.
Mandryka?
No, no, this is beyond belief.
I beg you, translate to him.
Commissar, you were wrongly informed.
Our village is not such as you think.
In the years of Soviet power
a lot of intellectual were brought up here,
engineers, teachers, doctors...
Scientists, chemists, agronomists...
You have to understand,
you see, in our...
We are not your visitors,
you are ours.
No, you don't understand.
What are you saying. You're a fool!
Don't say those words.
- What did he say?
I said that they will not go to Germany.
No, no, it was me, who said this!
It's not true! Vasyl Markuvych
didn't say that! He slanders himself.
You must realize you've been beaten.
The Commissar says you must be careful.
You may be punished...
You're lying! I said he may
consider himself hanged,
And you may regard yourself demoted.
Kurbatskyi! Beat him.
Don't touch! Don't touch!
What?
Comrades! Let's run!
- Do you hear? But where to?!
They've surrounded the building!
- We'll have to break through!
Stop the beating, Cain!
Let me thank the hangman for a rope.
Don't be afraid, I won't hit you.
- Don't come near me! Listen!
No, you listen! Listen and
keep in mind the place you've come to.
I have won... - No! It only
seems so to you. - Don't be absurd.
I am free. Do you hear me?
Translate to him,
you scoundrel, correctly!
I am free!
I and my nation!
I will annihilate half your nation!
- And the other half will eliminate you.
I will kill you! - I know that.
But you will also die here.
And before dying you will curse the one
who put you on the way of death.
Oh, don't trouble yourself,
you can't offend me.
I despise you too much for that,
and to show you this, I spit upon your face in front of children.
I will hang you! Impale him!
Let it be so,
give me fame by horror,
This is an old Ukrainian death!
Are you shaking?
Uliana has disappeared somewhere.
They said afterwards,
when she was brought for questioning
to the Commandant's office,
she, obeying inspiration, which
comes to each person once in their life,
killed two Gestapo officers
and two soldiers.
They also she she hid herself
at Doctor's Vyrskyi's,
and the doctor disfigured her face
with horrible lichen,
and covered her arms with a rash,
so that nobody could either recognize her,
nor take her by hand.
I've taken part in so many attacks, always
feeling no more than irritation and evil.
Hairs stand up on my head, my tongue won't obey,
stone images press one to the ground,
and the ground shakes and moves,
and pulls you, pulls, pulls!
And how you could stand up in it
if you are of sound mind!
Then such a moment comes, when one
of the company, that man or me
jumps up with swearwords
for the whole world... - Right!
And not Hurrah is heard already,
but something mixed.
And the whole of Russia is behind you.
Stern words you hear: Stand up! Go ahead!
Why are you rooted to the ground?
Go ahead! Don't loose a second!
One, two! Come on!
Kill! Kill! Kill!
Berlin here! Berlin broadcasts...
Heil, Heil, Heil! Partisans and
their aids are not to be taken prisoner.
Do not shoot them, but only hang them.
Well done! This is a real warrior!
He's alive!
Under chloroform and the knife
he still gives signals!
New York speaking.
We love your sacrifices.
We appreciate your heroism...
Each of our children admires you!
But still remember,
the Nazi are as cruel, as treacherous.
They are trying already to arouse
a dislike towards us, saying
that we spare our blood
and do not spare yours...
Stand up for war, god damn it!..
May you live one hundred years!
A bandage!
Moscow speaking! Brothers and sisters!
In this tremendous struggle of two worlds,
the destiny of humanity is decided.
It is being decided whether our culture will
continue to develop or will perish with us,
whether Ukraine will remain
a free Soviet Republic,
or will vanish from the face of the earth
becoming a Hitler colony forever...
I'll take command!
- No, I'm sorry, but I'm in charge here!
Then take it! So... Next one!
- I'll take command!
Follow me! Go forward! Hurray!..
THE SECOND FLAMING SUMMER HAS PASSED.
I'm sleeping, where are you pulling me!
I'm alive! Put me back!
They were lying against the oven,
Demyd and Tetiana Orliuk.
An oven without heat.
The whole village up to the river was burnt down,
and Zarichia was full of occupants.
He-e-e-elp!"
We are Germans now, so we are,
and our children are lost.
They will wander foreign lands.
What are you saying Demyd?!
There will be no Germany here.
Indeed? Well, thank you.
Everything will pass.
It will pass like the snowstorm.
Is it you, Tetiana?
Me, Demyd, it's Tetiana.
Do you feel unwell?
Sing to me, Tetiana, a Christmas carol.
- Christmas carol?
Indeed, maybe I am dying.
I want to sleep so much.
And here is Christmas already,
the guests will come, Ivan with the girls.
Ivan!.. Sing to me about our Ivan!
About Ivan? Good, Demyd...
Brave fellow Ivanochku...
smashed through the gates,
The Holy Evening!
Oh, smashed through the gates
into other lands,
The Holy Evening!
Orliuk!
- Orliuk!
Senior Sergeant Orliuk at your command!
Did you receive your mission?
- Yes, General.
This mission, Orliuk, is of
exceptional importance.
Its success will mean not only our victory,
it will allow us to save thousands of people.
Tomorrow we will lose about...
All right, I won't foretell.
All in all, much will depend on
the success of your reconnaissance.
Do you understand?
- Yes, General!
I entrusted it to you.
- The order will be... fulf... - Wait.
Firstly, you must carry out
this order with your section right now.
Operate with knife, bayonet, whatever,
but without any shot, any cry. Understood?
Agreed, then.
Complete silence.
Capture a prisoner for interrogation.
- Yes, Sir!
And one more thing.
I give you an order to return alive.
Yes, Sir: carry it out silently and
capture a prisoner for interrogation!
That is all.
- Allow me to begin? - Go!
Sergeant Orliuk!
- Orliuk!
Yes, Sergeant Orliuk!
Do you remember me? - Yes. - And you
recognized me at once? - Yes, Sir.
Why didn't you tell me? - Sorry,
General. - It's wrong, but still?
I criticised you greatly at that time.
- Foul language? - I used everything.
Well done!
He carries a wounded division commander,
and swears at him all five kilometres!
It's my fault, General. I didn't see who
he was. Only that he was one of our personnel.
And started to scold?
- No, you started to cry and scold.
And then I realized that you could
drown me in your nervous condition. - So?
I hit you to put you to sleep.
- With what - My fist, what else.
- And I fell asleep? - Right! - Well done! Swam
across with me? - Yes, Sir. Then carried on myself.
And after crossing the river we both carried you.
That fellow, who helped me later, lieutenant,
he said he was your son.
Vitaliy?
-Yes, Sir.
Vitaliy is no longer alive, Orliuk...
Very well, thank you for ever, brother.
As they say, mountains never come together...
...but people come together, General.
Allow me to fulfil the task?
Go soldier, carry out your duty!
...Am I finished now or not?
Finished or not?
No! I am very young and for me it is more
natural to think about the enemy's death.
And on the whole, I may think only
about the good, I had a good dream...
A little bit to the right,
aha, to the right...
So, only about the good!..
I kill them, I may think about this.
I imagine this exactly...
I look at my watch:
twelve o'clock...
Happy New Year, citizens of the whole world!
New happiness to you!..
...They write. One can write anything:
the privilege of dying in combat. What privilege?
It's not for me! Rather give me as much
makhorka as my heart desires.
Without it I'm no soldier, damn Hitler,
Goering, Goebbels, Ribbentrop, all fascism...
Or give me vodka, 100 ml. Whatever!
Give it me once every three days,
so I can feel and understand myself!
And there's a snowstorm here,
forgive me, God!..
So, where are you, fascist scum, where?
Oh, the wind, the wind, a soldier's luck,
shield me from the enemy with a snowstorm!
Resolute and awful
I creep towards the hated goal.
Yes or no... yes or no?
Yes or no?
Yes! surely I move.
And all in all, good luck...
Get ready!
For the Fatherland!
Bless me, mother...
Quiet.
...and Ivan didn't listen to his mother.
And he was right,
to fight means to shed blood.
He waves his sword before the army,
Christmas night... Christmas night...
May I report, General!
The order is fulfilled!
Good, good... and where is Orliuk?
Ah, it's you, Orliuk?
Give him wine.
Complete silence, comrade General.
- How are you? Wounded?
No.
It was disgusting.
And a King doesn't know,
he asks of his army,
Christmas night!
Oh, if only I knew
whose son he was fighting
Christmas night!
I would give my daughter
in marriage to him
Christmas night
Tetiana, call for the frost, and let us have dinner.
Sit down Ivan, sit down daughters.
Hey, frost, frost, come eat the kutya!
Frost, frost, come...
THE THIRD FLAMING SUMMER HAD PASSED.
Ukraine was in flame
from the Don to the Dnipro.
Huge flames lit the Dnipro
from from upper reaches of Polissia
to the lower reaches of Zapurizhia.
Beaten in cruel battles, Hitler's troops
retreated over the Dnipro.
Hitler's Germans
retreated with all their satellites
under the destructive strike
of the Soviet Union.
Fully armed with military experience,
achieved in the battles for Moscow,
Stalingrad, Voronezh, Kursk,
Belgorod, Kharkiv on the Don
and many other battles,
the Soviet forces came to the Dnipro.
The Dnipro! I swam in these waters!
This is my river, brothers!
This is my shore. Look, on the opposite side
can you see pear and cherry trees?
On the mountain.
They are mine!
And my house is behind the cherry-trees...
To the right! Keep to the right!
Hurry up!
?Baikal",
I am "Rama", I am ?Kama?...
Ready... we begin!
Only one hour is left.
Forget for this hour all orders,
difficulties, the whole war mechanism.
Go to the soldiers and
tell them what's most important.
And the most important right now
is a good word.
They've no need for persuasion,
nor force. Kyiv is in front of them.
But the Dnipro doesn't become less deep
because of this, and the enemy no weaker...
This is a great night.
And do not avoid great words.
Measure life and death with great measure.
Tell a simple Soviet man,
a soldier...
Tell him, whose fathers
and forefathers prayed to God
for a crumb of immortality
from a one-kopeck candle...
Tell him, that immortality itself
knocks on his breast this very night.
Go.
Soldiers of the great Soviet Union,
we cross the Dnipro!..
Our forefathers brought Christianity
right here one thousand years ago.
And today we plunge into this sacred river!
It is a great river, and despite
all the bridges being blown-up,
we will be able to reach the opposite bank.
This is our duty before the Motherland!
Death to the fascist occupants!!
What shall we wish this night and
what wills shall we make to our descendants?
We will to them, brothers... I mean,
I want to say that if our time has come,
then we will to them immortality.
Death to the fascist occupants!
So, let me explain: in front of us is
not only the opposite bank of the river.
In front of us is another,
the bank of our fate.
Ready! The first boat is coming
under Orliuk's guidance.
Don't look back... one!
Complete silence... two!
Be all eyes... three!
Go!
Follow me!
Next!
Too late.
We need to cut off his arm.
Cut!
No, it would be better
to sent him to the rear.
Cut it quickly!
Next!
How do you feel?
- Not bad... quite good...
Tell me, Doctor, will I live?
- Live?
Certainly, why, of course!
Wait... doctor!
A bandage, don't I need one?
So, here I am...
Bandage...
I want to live!
Bandage me
and do everything necessary.
You assume that I am dead?
Bandage, bandage me...
I want to live!
Do you think we can save him?
- He's saved him himself already.
Hold it like this...
Come on, hold, damn it... Do it!
Only look how handsome he is.
What a chest!
And what a shoulder!
What legs! And a neck!
And what a stride!
Did you see how he entered?
As lithe as a God...
Camphor!
Well... good. Oh, what a fellow!
Just look at his muscles!
The way he entered!
- But how did he enter?
He was a bed-patient!
- What you know about this! A hen!
How you dare offend me!
- Sorry...
Where all this strength?
He had no pulse!
He had a will... Hold it!
Do you think he'll live?
- He'll outlive the both of us! Hold it!
Believe me, he's already done more to rescue
his life than we're doing now... Bandage!
You have won the decisive battle
with almost no means for success.
Thank you,
you have taught me how to live!
I worship the generosity of your will.
Alive, Orliuk!
- Well done, Orliuk!
Wounded comrades!
Kyiv has been liberated!
Long live victory!
Long live a little to me as well,
Sergeant Orliuk, here it is, my station.
Good luck, my comrades!
- Good-bye, Orliuk!
Greet your house and family from us!
Don't stay too long!
Is he home or not?
He is home. Here it is, his hut:
White with a warm, thatched roof,
the architectural mother of human shelter.
Never closed, always open
to everyone, no need to knock.
No "May I come in" and no "Come in".
A dwelling as simple as a good word.
And rational, as if it were built
by nature and not by human hands.
I don't belaud you, my old hut...
I wish you farewell.
I told you before the great war: vanish from
the face of my land, become a mansion,
cover yourself with iron, grow, rise above
the gardens, resound up and outwards.
Even if it won't be you,
let grief and troubles
disappear from your dark corners
and cold inner porch.
Good-bye! How I suffer.
It's a shame.
There was such a good smell
of old times and peace in you,
a smell of mint and dried pinks,
and your durable, lavish furnace
smelled of borsch and fresh bread.
You are no more,
and there is nowhere to rest my head.
Is that you?- Ivan!
- Uliana? Ulia!
Ivan!
And the snow reappears
Oh, how many times I've dreamed
I'm taking you away from the battlefield.
Hundreds of times it felt like
I'm carrying you away.
You, Ivanochku.
But how did you survive?
I don't know.
And you?
Me... I don't know also.
What? That's the limit for the Commander!
We're developing the attack plan here
and he's carrying out a ceremony.
Who let you in here? Your surname?
- Orliuk.
General! Let me hand you a package!
So, how are you?
- I'm in my homeland, comrade Commander.
And I beg you, General, do us the honour,
that we remember this day
as a holiday our whole life long!
I see. The only thing is
I don't know how to carry this out.
I never had the chance to do this.
And how would you like it to be carried out?
I don't know, General, but something
different from what we had before war.
We would like something fine
and somewhat solemn.
Exactly, somewhat solemn,
in conformity with the location.
Petrov!
Prepare my civilian suit!
Well... I will try,
but let me think a little bit.
Is it me? Is it really me?
How good!
How nice it is that I am like this!
How fortunate that
I am not decaying in a pit,
not languishing in slavery,
that I'm alive and as I am!
They seized some town,
but I didn't hear which. - Which one?
I was in the market.
- Which town ? Who said so?
I was selling seedlings
and buying pinks and poppies.
Are you deaf, aunt? Deaf?
I was thinking, let it bloom.
I love when the garden's in flower.
I remember my mother saying:
?This world is like a poppy, blooming in
the morning, falling in the evening." That's it.
So, with Germany.
What did they do? Become partisans,
and started shooting fascists,
your Orliuks.
And I carried them in the boat to fight,
those partisans.
But, obviously, they weren't
destined to reach the shore.
Every single one of them was shot.
I was the only one who survived.
And I didn't notice right away that
they were dead and continued speaking:
?Oh, don't shake the boat,
my sons, don't shake it!"
And they captured me and took me for
questioning just as I was, wet and beaten.
But I told them: ?Don't ask me,
I'll tell you nothing, you disgust me.
You may kill me, as you killed my children,
may you've be defeated on the road
and let the very soil spurn you..."
That's it, my dear, for sure:
since then I've become deaf...
I talk too much. I must go dig the vegetable
garden, let me take the greatcoat out... - I won't!
I'll lock it in the chest, aunty, so my
children and grandchildren can see it...
Look at it! What'll they see?
Only holes perhaps...
So much they'll see.
You must forget it all
and not stir up old feelings.
Put it out of your mind and think
about the beautiful and good.
Here, they're coming! Oh, help!
...all the girls sat on the benches,
sat on the benches...
Uliana?! Comrades, just look! No, just look!
The real Renaissance picture!...
Let's go!
Let me bless the children. Who've neither father,
nor mother. Alone, like blades of grass...
No, we are not alone, aunty, we wish
everyone such a feeling of fellowship.
...Let noble rage break as a wave
There is a people's war, a holy war
Let noble rage break as a wave
There is a people's war, a holy war
Please, repeat after me:
''According to the Law of the
Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
we, Ivan Demydovych Orliuk
and Uliana Vasylivna Riasna,
express our will to live together..."
''...as a husband and a wife...''
"the founders of a family and continuors
of it in the name of life's fulfilment..."
"in the name of
the welfare of our State,
immortality of our people
and personal welfare.''
Witnesses!
Give wine to the married couple!
Kiss each other.
Hurrah for the newly-weds!
I didn't know your parents, Ivan and Uliana.
-They were martyrs!
They were heroes!
- They were Soviet people,
and I, being born by the Volga river,
worship their handsomeness,
as only handsome people could bring up on
the Dnipro river such children.
In great times you have
united your hands, Ivan and Uliana.
We are defeating the immense
and most wicked power, Fascism.
I know that our people will be testing
our weapons for a long time,
and counting our wounds.
They will brighten with gratitude
or stiffen from hate,
they will be proud of us, will be afraid of us,
we will frighten one another,
they will capitalise on our weak points,
underestimate our victory
and our shed blood.
Act, children, youngsters.
You have grasped the terrible art of war.
Grasp the art of living!
Be lavish with love,
with cries of giving birth!
But keep in mind, Uliana, that the she-wolf
also gives birth to her young.
But they grow,
becoming wolves on the earth.
It is a great thing
for a mother to give birth,
but far greater is to give birth
and raise a friend, not a wolf,
a brother, not a plunderer.
Who else, if not us, have grasped,
while performing this historical campaign,
have witnessed how the war has
cruelly offended the Soviet mother.
And dear ladies, our young men have
seen you in their dreams,
but not in soldiers' boots
nor grey greatcoats. - Right!
You were in your best dresses,
your best attire in front of their young eyes.
But history has made its own choice.
It has put on your feminine shoulders
the rough cloth of a warrior,
and sent you not music but a gun's roar,
and searing flames instead of flowers.
A putrid smell
and no Parisian perfumes!
Let us praise our Russian greatcoat,
and never forget how we wore it
along the roads of battle,
how we carried our banners!
Soon, all the Soviet forces, from
the Polissia marshes up to the Black Sea,
rushed westwards.
Cities were liberated,
thousands of villages too.
Many people would never return home:
would never see their families,
their skies, their beautiful lands.
They would carry the glory of their Fatherland
through many cities, falling there forever.
Some would fall near Lviv,
some near Sandomierz, Warsaw, or Budapest,
and some, near Berlin itself.
But no one thought of that.
There was no time.
Never perhaps, has history tightened itself
in such a monstrous clod.
Never did those millions of hearts
beat so forcefully.
Never did a man appear more generous
in strength, with such greatness of spirit,
than in the immense Soviet heart
during the World War.
Fill your glasses!
Gentlemen, please be seated.
This night, gentleman,
a wonderful thought came into my mind.
I noticed that all those Russian marshals
totally ignore military science.
As a result, you see, the entire tank armies
were left unused in dirt!
We, my wife and I, noticed it at once...
I'm married, gentlemen, you know,
married to Hitler.
I suppose, you are aware that our Fuhrer
is a woman. Not taking into account
moustaches
and eastern living space.
One... two... three... good.
By the way, who thought
of that eastern living space?
And why it is living and not fatal?
Answer! General Guimmelshtok!
- I'm not General Guimmelshtok!
And where is he? - He's been killed. - And
what did I say? - "General Guimmelshtok"!
It's not true, I didn't say it.
Colonel Gauss is also killed? Isn't he?
Gauss, Schmidt, von Goediger,
aren't they? Ratzenau...
Field-Marshal Manstein.
- I'm sorry,
Aren't you Field-Marshal von Manstein?
- No, I'm Captain Schultz.
Of course! - I'm not a Field-Marshal...
- But you've been killed, Field-Marshal!
No! - I saw you with my own eyes
before your death, Field-Marshal!
I'm not a Field-Marshal, you're wrong!
You took flight with a marshal's baton
across this living space.
And then... you fell as well.
I have a headache.
Oh, children of Germany!
Oh, orphans and widows of a great country!
General von Brenner stands knee-deep in mud.
His watery eyes, lacking any sign of thought.
are directed backwards, towards
the bloody path up to the Volga.
How many minds were lost, how many hard-
working hands in the prime of their lives!
What masters, skilled craftsmen,
what great talents covered the ground
with their corpses for thousands of miles!
Grievous fame...
In the middle of the 20th century, when all
were ready to create a paradise on earth,
the whole constellation of nations,
large and small,
what did your fallen fathers do to Europe,
poisoned with the lifeless idea of fascism?
As previous wars gave
no lesson to your fathers,
then at least see clearly now
by the light of burning buildings:
that threats and military venture
can achieve nothing in this world
but grief and ruination.
I am disabled, father!
I can see.
You're disabled indeed.
Does it hurt?
- I wake at night and touch... Nothing!
What misfortune!
Disabled people are also different, son,
as everybody in the world.
One can be disabled
through cowardice or even vodka!
Don't make me angry, father.
I attacked!
It doesn't matter: if you attacked or not.
The war is finishing.
It's the Belgorod bulge! You see?
Let it be a bulge,
only don't show it so much,
so that people aren't so embarrassed
to look at you. - Meaning what?
Nothing in particular. Don't bother folk.
It's hard enough for them without your bulge.
So, you'd better thank your lucky stars
and keep to yourself:
Don't booze, don't cry
and keep yourself from lying.
Why? Because from a wound to a lie is only
a short step. I know from my own experience.
This is grief.
What else to say?
Why grief? It's luck.
He's returned alive!
Keep quiet with your luck: luck, luck!
The Fatherland nearly perished,
one had to shed blood!
Mother!
Daughter! Mariia!
Are you alive?
Or am I dreaming, Mariia?!
It's me, mother!
- She's returned... people!
Mum, how are you.
And Pavlo?
Did you hear from Pavlo?
Did he return?
He's home.
- Pavlo! Home?
Where is he? Pavlo!..
He stands in the square.
- In the square? Why?
Waiting for you.
Didn't you meet him?
I didn't see him,
I walked by the lower road.
Oh God! How is he?
Is he wounded? - He's fine.
Was he at war?
- He fought a long time.
What was he?
- A captain.
A captain? Really, mother?
Or a hero...
I don't remember now. People said...
I must dash!
- Go quietly.
Don't scare me, mother!
Walk slowly, my dear,
gather your strength.
Alright mother, I'll go.
How my heart beats.
I'm so afraid, mother!
...Oh, I shall walk, a young girl,
not by the water meadow.
Maybe return with a friend,
who is not a promised husband.
Oh, I shall walk, a young girl, by the water
meadow. No. through the valley...
Oh, I walk, a young girl!
Wait, this is a song. It's a song!..
Why? I'll tell it in my own words.
Such words that I have.
Not in any song.
It's impossible to say everything, I know.
But I will gather all my strength
to tell all my sorrows, sufferings.
Where is he? Why can't I see him?
Pavlo, answer me!
This is your unlucky Mariia,
returned from captivity, your wife.
I've brought you my shame and suffering,
a child of an unknown father.
Kill us both, or spare our lives,
if you are a hero.
Where am I? Pavlo!..
Where are you death?
Where are you, my beauty, my swallow?
Spare my feelings. Where do you wander,
with other men, my dark sister?
Come back, smile at me bitterly...
I don't want to live!
Pavlo! Pavlo!
Seek consolation, woman,
while you are young, fulfil your destiny.
Let my mother's old age cry for me.
What is my destiny?
How can I console myself?
Through labour, love, children.
Where may I find this?
- In a favourable flow of good times.
And if there are no good times for me?
There are so many of us in this world!
Then exalt yourself in your suffering.
No, I can't. I don't want to,
I'm too small and weak for suffering.
I'm unable to think about the great.
I know of no other ways out.
Probably, there are none.
Do you tell me the truth, my great hero?
- I'm neither great nor hero,
but I did my best for my Fatherland
in great times and with great people.
And here I am, the bronze one,
guarding the generations.
Not thinking much of the great myself.
Not always talking well
and sometimes my jokes fell flat.
You always laughed at others.
I worked hard, was always busy,
and I loved you too little,
in spite of being born for peace and love.
- I forgive you.
I didn't cherish you enough
and sometimes even forgot you.
The war drove me to drink
and I was driven by pity.
I was severe, often even rough, to not
weaken among curses, shouts for mercy
and so many other hardships.
My time was the time of oaths,
and I fulfilled my oath until the moment
when I was smashed into bloody pieces.
A martyr!
No, I suffered only a moment.
I was attacking then,
an enemy that ran before me.
Tell your children exactly this:
my enemies ran before me.
They ran.
What a sky, Ivan!
Look, our war is over...
Not yet.
How immense and incredible this life is!
What a war! - Yes!
All this seems as a dream.
- Oh yes...
It's as if we've lived a century.
- Yes!
Do you, remember how, before the war,
I told you of my thirst for life. - Yes.
I always wanted to become double,
to split into a hundred parts,
and my each part would then
live and create, and learn a different good,
and all these parts were me. - I remember.
Do you regret anything from those times?
- No. - Do you love me? - I love you.
I love everything in you.
I love so much the ground you trod.
I love the very air you breathe.
- My darling!
My dear, I love you, as I love
bread and honey and water.
I close my eyes, speak...
I killed a lot.
- Stop it. - I will.
And I have many wounds too...
- No, no.
Tell me what you're thinking.
I think that we are
standing again at the beginning of life.
We have the most important work,
all the beauty, which artists look for.
All sunrises and sunsets,
all the grass, all flowers,
all that is dear and sweet to man.
All this is ours now,
The evening and morning dew...
The dew... Ivanochku,
I like the morning dew so much!
Many never enjoyed the dew.
- Worthless.
They don't need the dew. They've another
happiness. Neither do they need the sunrise.
They never stepped barefooted on the dew.
-They have thin, evil feet.
I would make them walk on the dew.
- It's impossible right now. - Why?
It's costly, but this moment will come.
Man will return to the morning dew.
And gardens will blossom around him.
And it will be impossible to kill,
or even quarrel in this garden.
You're right, I remember.
- But now man needs a roof, not the dew.
I don't need a roof.
I want to sleep with you under open skies...
and see the stars.
Who's there? - Kyivers. Duke Sviatoslav
and his warriors. We are your dream.
No... no... could one person come in dream
to another after one thousand years?
In this place, yes... this is an old shore,
and my boats stood right there.
But so many years have passed!
Centuries have passed!..
They have gathered now around your bed,
links of old times and coming years.
I don't understand... I can't understand,
Ivan, are you sleeping? Ivan...
What old grass, and it smells the same,
and the same stars.
And the Dnipro was already old when
my thoughts took me away to the Danube.
Is that you, Ivanochku? - What happened?
- Were you sleeping? - No. - No?
I thought of the Danube.
- When? Tell me when it was?
I don't know. I'm sleeping.
And what did you say?
Ivanochku, what was it?
It was a feeling.
But it was just a dream.
But could we both have had the same dream?
Hold me, Hold me.
Oh, God, how fine...
What stars! How happy we are!
Can one really be so happy?
Raise it up higher,
So all our descendants can see!..
Uliana Vasylivna!
Uliana Vasylivna!
Uliana Vasylivna, let me thank you for
the liberation from the German fascist yoke.
Was it you who painted
over the portraits in the handbooks?
Me? I had to.
Horrible things were happening here.
First, I thought... - What?
- No, nothing, I swear by my honour.
That I, that is, would you believe,
I nearly ran away to the guerrillas.
And what prevented you?
- Well, I didn't manage to.
You don't know, you can't
run away from fascists.
They are terrible enemies of humanity.
I cried... I hated them! -
Did you sabotage?
Any armed resistance?
Did you train pupils and their parents
to be firm? - What is this, a court?
Today the whole world is judged,
all nations,
philosophy, history, politics.
The present and the past, human and heroic
are at law with the worthless and the criminal.
Yeah... well... let... me...
- Who are you? What use are you?
What have you learned from this terrible
sense of war? What were you doing here?
You don't know what went on here!
The whole world is...
Whatever happened here
will never happen again.
This was the time for heroes and martyrs.
I wish you'd become one of them.
You've spent
your whole life on tiptoe.
Ulyana Vasylivno, did you kill fascists?
- No, children, I didn't.
I only saved the lives of our soldiers.
- Taras killed two.
Three.
- Taras who? - Bovkun!
Taras, did you really shoot?
- They were fascists...
Last winter they killed our father
and his father, grandfather and Halka too.
Four officers came, ate supper,
sat to play cards, got drunk.
He threw the incendiary bomb
under the icons!
And now, when I grow up, I'll be Tarasova.
- I've seen enough!..
Listen to me children. Today is a great day.
Our forces have freed our Fatherland
and are fighting the enemy on their
own territory. We shall have no lessons.
Today we shall talk about
what you will do when you grow up.
I want to rescue the wounded,
I'll be a nurse.
Good. What do you want?
- I want some bread.
I want some bread too.
- I want a sub-machine gun.
I want to cry, and I want to eat.
And Vasia Stupak will marry.
I'll speak for myself.
- Do you want to marry, Stupak?
I think so. I've never thought
about it before, but now I have.
But you're still little.
How old are you?
Thirteen. The policemen killed my father
and then hanged my mother.
And I've two small children to look after,
and the cow ready to calf,
and I must work in the vegetable garden.
That's why I think...
I'll marry a orphan and start living.
I realise that I haven't grown-up yet,
but I can't let the children be lost.
Do I wait? I don't know.
Will the kolkhoz leave me to die
with my children, what do you think? - Never!
The kolkhoz helped the State to survive,
Stupak, and it will help you, undoubtedly.
Today we'll come to your house to help you.
- So, I don't need to marry?
Don't marry. You will study.
Do you want to study?
- No. Not much.
- Why not? - Because...
But you may study and then become a great man.
- My father didn't, but he was a great man.
I know, your father was a great man,
he was an organizer, a kolkhoz head,
as well as a great partisan and communist,
but if he was also learned...
Germans!
Hordiiu Ivanovychu! Open the door.
I'll die! - I don't know you!
For God's sake! - I... I don't know you!
- It's me! - I don't know you! - Hrybovskyi!
I don't know you! This is provocation!
I'm busy! Do you hear me!
Just open the door! Do you hear me?!
Open the door or I'll kill you!
Comrade, stop it!
The accused Hrybovskyi!
The accused Hrybovskyi, answer!
I don't understand...
The accused Shchruder,
do you recognize this man?
No.
You don't recognize him as an agent
of fascist intelligence Hrybovskyi?
- No.
The accused Kurbatskyi!
I don't know. I've never seen him.
The witness Mandryka?
- Here I am.
What is your name?
- Hordii Pavlovych.
Date of birth?
- Wait... 1910.
Occupation?
- Teacher.
Where were you during the fascist occupation?
- Nowhere, I swear. Here. Do you think I could...?
Do you recognize the accused, who rushed into
your flat, the Ukrainian nationalist Hrybovskyi?
Who destroyed a third of our village,
our school, who killed the headmaster
with the others executioners?
Do you recognize him?
That one, what's his name? This man seems
to be him and not him at the same time.
It's difficult to say
whether it's him or not.
Ask the people,
they may know more, and then I'll...
I need to look closer...
He's weaving a web.
The witness Virskyi, Pavlo Danylovych!
- Here.
How old are you? - Fifty.
- Your occupation? - Doctor.
Did you work for the fascists?
- No.
Did you escape from
the concentration camp? - Yes.
Did you infect people in our village with a rash?
- Yes. With a rash, herpes, trachoma...
He saved us from slavery!
Don't ask too much.
One can die from such memories.
Calm down.
You're a witness here.
I'm not a witness.
The world you're asking about,
is the witness...
Comrade prosecutor, be specific.
Do you recognize this man?
Who is this man?
He is not a man.
- Hrybovskyi?
Bring the executed in!
Olena Stupakova!
- Here.
Age? - 24. We're the same age.
- Are you a widow?
They killed Andrii, he was a partisan.
And they also killed my two children,
and my father Andrii.
I'm a widow and orphan,
completely bereaved.
Were you shot?
- I was. Me? I was.
Why do you smiling so?
- Pay no attention to it.
I can't control my smile. - Nothing makes
you laugh now, citizen Stupakova?
Do you want to cry?
- I want to do something. To work.
Don't worry. We will
work with you together soon.
To the surprise of the whole world,
but don't laugh.
I ask you not to laugh.
I'm not laughing, Vaniu,
I'm crying,
just as you are.
Question me!
I'll tell everything!
- One moment!
The accused Shchruder, stand here.
The accused Shchruder,
tell us, did your government plan
to eliminate all the Ukrainians,
who had separatist intentions?
Yes. I'm Hrybovskyi.
There he is! Oh, what a sly one!
I see him and recognize him.
He's a real villain!.. Terrible...
I'll tell, everything. - What foreign
intelligence services are you a member of?
German, and French...
- The accused,
write down which intelligence services.
- What was your last task?
To create a sabotage group in the rear.
- Who gave you that task?
Shchruder.
-Shchruder, do you confirm this?
No.
Rather, yes.
- Why though?
When I see this person
I want to reject everything.
Ivan, tell him that I curse him!
You're a murderer,
a stony-hearted monster,
how you can live on this earth!
You've humiliated the status of a man.
- I personally did nothing.
You're lying.
You behaved yourself on our land
not as an officer of occupation forces,
but as a murderer.
It is a political question.
And politics is free from morality.
This is war,
and we all act in its orbit.
As Nietzshe said:
War is everlasting and moral.
No!
It's not everlasting
nor is it moral.
It disappears together with your dark force.
How dare you reject all your evil deeds here?
No. I just wanted to say that I acted
not only in compliance with military oath,
but in compliance with what
I've been taught. - Hrybovskyi
In compliance with
what knowledge did you act?
In what name did you lie,
provoking treason, on selling our Ukraine,
our nation into slavery. Causing
our nation's death?- Wait. I'll explain.
When I came to the Ukraine with them,
I understood I was an outsider.
I acted under fear of death,
rage and vengeance...
Wait! I'll tell you everything!
They're handing out leaflets.
- Which?
About uncle Roman! He hit six tanks!
Who?
- Uncle Roman!
Listen... I'm fed up
with listening to these scum.
Enough. Work is waiting!
The people aren't interested in
your declarations, they're busy.
They're handing out leaflets!
'Your son crushed six fascist tanks in the
unequal battle on the border. Six tanks.
Quiet!
Only our nation's best sons, for whom nothing is
more important than their Fatherland's defence,
only such people are able
to work wonders of valour!
The moment, when the enemy
will finally be beaten, is not far away!
Thank you, father of a hero!
The Military Council of the battle-front.
Here you have Roman!
What will you say, Semen Vlasovych?
I don't know!
It seems to be
some sort of propaganda or a lie.
How could that be, six tanks at once?!
Is this duck hunting in the swamp?
Why the hell do we need to make these tanks,
why spoil good iron, if this can happen?
This is none of our business.
This is how it is.
Alright then.
If that's how it is... that's how it is
Let it be...
I agree.
Hello!
- How is Loboda?
How is Bukhalo? - Fine, they're fighting.
Loboda, Bukhalo, and Harkavenky.
A father and his sons.
Have you seen my Opanas?
I'm sorry, your Opanas is no longer alive.
Opanas and Levko Chepurnyi too.
And is it true that you blew up
something by yourself? - Six tanks!
With what? - With bottles! I thought I could
use these bottles. So I throw one and it burns.
When they broke through to the trenches,
I threw another! It burns!
I rushed to the trench.
The third tank I'd already hit.
Then I again threw! And it again burns!
So, I rushed to my comrades, and
they started kissing me. "Wait!! Fools,
stop kissing me. Give me bottles quickly".
I took the bottles and rushed back, damn it!
Are you telling the truth?
- Why would I lie? Everyone saw it.
How did you throw them? - As my
commander taught me. On the tank's rear.
Is the tank's rear weak?
Who knows.
Yeah! I forgot! I lost my jacket there,
what a shame.
Your jacket?! Where? - There. I took off
my jacket while throwing the bottles.
It might be lost in the fire or ruined
under tank tracks. What a pity!
I told you not to take a jacket. Now
you'll do without a jacket, you a warrior!
Well, father, that's war for you.
Here, each to his own fate.
What times we live in!
To spoil such a jacket!
Well, we must be happy. Never mind!
Please, come in for lunch.
Stop, man!
Here is your world,
eternal and beautiful.
And you live in it
for such a short moment.
Be happy and good.
Rest from the routine,
the ordinary, the shabby.
Look!
No!
The best of the planets, our motherland,
Mother Earth, will never cease to exist.
We will disappear from your surface,
one generation succeeding another,
like waves in the ocean.
But while vanishing,
we will always say:
Thank you! Thank you for
your bread, grapes and wine!
Thank you for arrival and departure,
for Spring and Autumn, days and nights!
For the evening dew and morning dew!
For love and labour.
For the precious blood, shed in the name of
liberty and the brotherhood of all nations.
For understanding
the principal secret of your life.
The secret of our human universality.
We are your children
and we are your measure:
You are wonderful!
What beauty!
- What are you thinking of, tell me?
Would you like to
live here in other times?
In the times of Duchess Olga,
Dukes Yaroslav and Khmelnytskyi?
Or in 100 years?
Right now.
- Me too.
We have indeed, stood up for
all the past centuries, all our history,
the past and the future.
Are you happy? Yes?
- Yes.
I'm happy I've not become wicked, and will
continue to live without hatred or fear.
That I have found my own place on earth.
In this handful of collective farm seeds,
there is much more sense in this, indeed,
than in the whole of fascist history.
Did you notice what they are sowing?
- I did. - Here they come.
Our people above the war.
These are your father's immortal words.
Which battle can
compare with this scene!
Oh, my God! Don't throw it,
- Put it on the ground!
Hold it! Son of a bitch!
Get out of here,
Antonina, damn you!
Go away, don't come any closer.
Throw it.
- Hold it! Don't throw it, don't throw!
Ivan, come back!
Don't come close!.. Ivan!
Don't throw it, you'll kill yourself!
Take that!
Ulia, what's wrong with you?
You're a hardened fighter. - Ivanochko,
that was something else.
That was war, and this...
is life.
Director-Yuliya Solntseva
Directors of photography: F. Provorov, A. Temerin
Production designer-A. Borisov
Original music by Gavriil Popov
Sound editors: I. Urvantsev, Ya. Kharon
Assistantdirector- L. Basov
Oinematography by V. Minayev
Film editors - K. Moskvina, A. Abramova
Makeup - I. Ohechenin
Oostumedesigners: Sh. Bykhovskaya, G. Yepishin
Set decorator-A. Samulekin
Visual effects:
Camera operator-B. Travkin;
Designer M. Semenov
Supervising editor- I. Rostovtsev
Assistant director-A. Chemodurov
Military consultant-general of the army M. Popov
Oonductor- G. Gamburg
Production managers: L. Kanareykina, I. Soluyanov
Narrator- Sergey Bondarchuk
Ivan Orliuk - M. Vinhranovskyi
Uliana - S. Zhgun
Major Velychko - M. Mayorov
Mariia -Z. Kiriyenko
Fon Brenner-B. Bibikov
Shchruder-V. Akuraters
Hrybovskyi -V. Zeldin
Mandryka -B. Noviykov
Roman Klunnyi ye. Bondarenko
Semen Klunnyi -A. Romanenko
Antonina A. Bogdanova
Demyd S. Petrov
Tetiana -V. Kapustina
Olena Stupakova M. Bulgakova
Also: V. Vitrishchak, P. Vinnik, V. Gulyaev, Ye. Maksimova,
L. Parkhomenko, A. Pokrovskiy, N. Sazonova, V. Seleznev,
A. Khovanskiy, E. Shutov, G. Yukhtin, L. Lobov
Subs revision: corvusalbus