My grandmother, Eugene V. was the most discreet person in the world. I never heard she raised her voice. Even Nude, she seemed to be woven from fragile translucent substance. One day I, eight-year-old kid accidentally peeped on her almost undressed and was struck by how would a lack of skin that was thin and worn. If harder to accelerate the bike, not without reason, thought I, the grandmother exactly how a Ghost can pass through.

When the grandmother did not think to become a grandmother, she had one all your life dream is to become a doctor. But then the war intervened.

Grandmother, then still just a girl marrying, in the 41st, left to serve as a nurse in the infirmary, which marched to Prague. Aunt and mom told me that one time grandma assisted in the surgical field hospital at the “same” academician Vishnevsky, who playfully called her “my redhead”. The value of this biographical details, I realized by the age of twenty. The fact that after the war, nurse with huge military experience and with a medal “For courage” (which, incidentally, she never wore as other less significant for her) five times he was accepted to medical school. But I never did. But it was enough for one call to the General Vishnevsky.

this Wife was telling me excitedly all front friend. “No, I am,” and that’s it!

My future grandmother got a job easy as a nurse in the local hospital, where he worked the rest of my life.

Her husband Boris in 1941, was a guerrilla commander.

When the Museum-panorama “Borodino battle” was preparing an exhibition of wartime pictures, I spotted a senior researcher of the Museum-panorama “Borodino battle” Cyril Rivchak. And invited to look at the portrait of my grandfather who neither I nor my family have never seen. A pencil drawing. Probably the author – Petr Krivonogov, the Soviet painter of battle scenes, laureate of the Stalin prize, honored art worker of the RSFSR, prochieve in the active army from Moscow to Berlin.

Where and how they met, God knows.

many years later, my parents Vladimir and Natalia Galkin Tagunova decided to remind the native Volokolamsk, about the commander of the local partisans and about his wife, has come down with the others to Prague. Parents did it for the 75th anniversary of the Victory, setting their money on a memorial plaque on our family house.

So my grandmother and grandfather met again.

As a grandmother buried her beloved husband, I can hardly remember. But very well remembered her first death. We slept in the same room. I was instructed to sound the alarm when Eugene V. stop breathing. Across the street from us lived a woman Tabitha, also from the clinic, she had prepared a special “alarming suitcase”.

When grandma stopped breathing, I did everything as taught. Ran the woman Tanya, I was expelled into the next room. But then I heard. Resuscitation was successful. And then…

Eugene V. suddenly, for the first time in my life I cried. Her friend just pulled her from the dead. I still hear grandma’s angry voice: “Tanya! Tanya! What you’ve done! I was there as well! There was Boris!”