THE ICON OF ST. NICOLAS

Regularly small troops of army units of the 1st Ukrainian Front “were combing” nearby from Kiev settlements, where the enemy yet was remained. The morning was cold, but sunny. Troop, commander of which I was, came from the field to the village located at the Zhitomir direction. Around stood stacks of straw. The soldiers with bayonets stabbed into stacks, checking if there is hiding enemy. Suddenly the door of one of the barns, located on the edge of the village, widely opened and from therefell out three dozen Germans. Broke out unequal battle. We were in the minority. Seeing the need for reinforcements, I fired a flare and at that moment felt something wet and warm trickling down along my leg. I leaned to one of the haystacks, which stood close to me and slid down to the ground. The top of the stack collapsed, covering my head. I lost consciousness ...

I woke up in the hut. The first thing that caught my eye - these were an icons of saints in the corner of the hut, framed by snow-white curtain embroidered with intricate pattern. All the small family fussed over to me. “The soldier alive” - was glad the woman and told her daughter to bring a pitcher of milk and freshly baked bread. Every day, Pauline, was the name of the girl, was bandaging my feet and with such dexterity made all necessary procedures, as if she was a nurse in sanitary unit. Pauline spoke only on Ukrainian, but we understood each other perfectly. And she cured me... Has passed a little over a month. The next day I had to leave this village, which has already been cleared completely from the Nazis. I had to come to the headquarters of our military part in Kiev to get a new appointment. I went accompanied by the beautiful Pauline and her mother up to the country road. I embraced the women in gratitude. Pauline clung to me with her cheek and poke in my arm a small wooden image.“Let guard you St. Nicholas,” - she said. I jumped into the stopped truck, waved goodbye and the car raced forward. In Kiev, I was looking the guys from my troop, but to no avail. Among them were also my compatriots. Many soldiers were killed at that time in Zhitomir-Berdichev operation. It was dark ... The train slowly was moving by the South-Western Railway to its destination. Suddenly, out of nowhere came the roar of engines. I kept my ears open, and only had time to realize what kind of buzz, as the bombing were begun. Yes, it was the German Messerschmitts, which broke the defensive line. The soldiers began to leave wagons in a hurry, have been scattered across the field in all directions. Some of them took a shovels and tried to dig a ditch, in order to burrow, but before they could do it, were frozen in a characteristic pose. Here and there were heard explosions and black lumps of earth were flung up into the air. I stayed alone in the wagon, mindlessly crawled under the bottom of shelf, holding the pocket of greatcoat as the last hope, in which was the image of St. Nicholas. Lips whispered rows of prayer, which were written with Pauline’s hand on the reverse side of the holy icon: Oh God, the Lord of Light, have mercy, And the Blessed Mother of God, intercede,And save, Nicholas, merciful. ” Roar of the engines calmed down as suddenly, as it appeared. I got out of the wagon and looked around. Almost the entire train was turned into chips. Around were the smoldering remains of wagons. The field was covered with dead and wounded. To the scene came from the Stavka of Front Commander. The alarm was begun: the wounded were taken to the city hospital, the dead were buried in hastily dug mass grave. Moon, rising over the Earth was helped us ... Soon in this direction were thrown shock forces and the offensive was launched across the front line, displacing the enemy to the foothills of the Carpathians. The holy icon with the image of Nicholas the Wonderworker, which presented me Ukrainian girl Poline, I carried through the war and guarded him as the apple of my eye. I believed that it has kept me alive then.