My name is Tatiana Stepanovna Kouznetsova, I was born in Moscow in December of 1924. My mother was a doctor, father was an accountant. Childhood wasn't easy at that time, but I studied well and almost finished my school in 1939 when the war intervened. Just a few days before the war broke out my brother and I were sent to Samara.
We left Moscow approximately on June 20 and came to Samara literally a half day before the beginning of the war. Our grandmother met us there and everything was fine. And next day the war was suddenly declared. Of course it was terrible. We didn't know what to do. We tried to call to Moscow, but we didn't manage get ahold of anyone.
And then the war started and I stayed in Samara. I continued my studies and worked in a hospital. II wasn't employed officially because I was underage, but I went there every day to help: applied bandages, ran some errand for doctors, later on I was making injections and taking care of the patients. It was a hospital for wounded soldiers and there were some very serious cases. Soldiers were always very happy to see me. We read to them, told them stories, we recited poems and I danced for them occasionally. So we were doing our best. And of course they fed us at the hospital. It was another thing that stimulated me, because people everywhere really starved at the time. My stepfather worked in the Department of Agriculture and was evacuated to Middle Asia, where he got sick with tuberculosis. So he couldn't help us. And my mom was sent somewhere toward the front lines to work in a field hospital.
It was a tough time for my family - my grandma was very ill, my mom worked long hours and I felt responsible for my little brother so I took care of him. Besides, I had to study and work in the hospital. I don't remember exactly how I started there - I think someone I know mentioned they could use a hand in the hospital. First I was just helping to make beds and do laundry, then later they started giving me some jobs like tending after injured soldiers, bandage them, bring medicine. Later they would even trust me with working in the operation room during surgeries; nothing serious of course, just general assistance and cleaning.
Some of the patients got really stuck in my memory. I remember one day a young soldier was rushed in. He was covered in blood, his guts were hanging out of his stomach, burned legs and arms. But the face... His expression was of absolute calmness. He looked at me and said: "It's ok, everything will be fine, sister." I remember this very well. He survived.
One of patients was very old, and we all nicknamed him Grandpa. He was in a bad way, but he had such a positive attitude and funny way of talking that he made everyone laugh. He'd always tell me "daughter, first we eat and then we talk". I would read to him and he often helped me with my algebra. Because I didn't have any free time, between the school and the hospital I would have to do my homework when I had downtime in the hospital. And often the patients helped to do my it.
Of course I recall doctors and nurses as well. It was something else... The war can really bring out maximum out of a human being. They worked non-stop and lived in that hospital. Doctors would wake up early in the morning and operate all day and throughout the night, catch a nap here and there and have a bite to eat. Same with nurses. I don't know how these people were living like that but it was a miracle how much they were able to do.
Even to think about those days is frightening. We had no idea where our parents are and everyday there were the rumors that Germans are getting closer and closer. Finally in the my mom came to visit us on her leave. She was exhausted and sick, she caught typhus somewhere along the way. Thankfully soon she got better. The front was moving westwards so we decided to go back to Moscow.
In the summer, after we got back to Moscow I was sent with other young kids to a so-called "Labor Front". The country was in ruins towards the end of the war and the State was trying to utilize people to do all sorts of work - general labor, construction, cleaning up the debris etc. Our camp was about 100km south of Moscow and our mission was actually quite funny. Apparently a lot of people in that area had lice and we had to go door to door and inspect each head, literally, for lice. If the family did have lice we would help them get rid of it with pretty old-fashion methods - by sitting them on a very hot furnace, washing and burning their clothing and bedding.
The war was over soon. It's impossible to explain and describe my feeling when I found out it was over. I was overjoyed, I felt ecstatic. It was like a new beginning, start of a new life. It was pretty funny that day - my little brother who was maybe 12 came back home totally drunk. My mom and I were absolutely shocked. "How?! Why?!" And he looked at us and said very seriously "I was celebrating the Victory Day".
It sounds strange now but back then everyone was drinking and toasting "To Stalin"! We all believed that he got us through this mess and he will lead us to better life after the war.
I graduated from my school with very good grades and enrolled in a medical institute after the war. I studied for 5 years and worked in a clinical laboratory. Then, maybe on the third year of my studies I started working as a nurse. I didn't have my diploma yet, I did have my experience in the hospital so they hired me.
I wanted to go to a graduate school, but due to the fact that my father was repressed because of his political views in the 30's I wasn't accepted. It wasn't clear for me why with such good grades and recommendations I couldn't enroll in 2 separate colleges. And afterwards my mother told me one day, that my real father and academician Nikolai Vavilov were arrested for their scientific and political views before the war. My dad was an agronomist and Doctor of Philosophy. He spent many years in camps and I only saw him one last time at his funeral.
Later, after Stalin's death the name of my father was restored, and I was treated differently. I did my post-graduate studies and started working in scientific research institute. And in 1960 the Institute gave recommendations to join the World Health Organization. I was among the first group of Russian doctors, who went to work abroad.
We were sent to study in Geneva for a few months and then ended up in Egypt. I worked with WHO Regional office In Alexandria for more than two years. I concentrated on outbreaks of various diseases in Africa, specifically cholera.
And when I came back, I was asked to work in the Ministry of Health. I worked there for more than 20 years. I retired in 1984 only because my husband became very ill, but the Minister didn't let me leave the job for another year. My husband was a disabled war veteran, suffered 3 heart attacks and had big problems with his heart. So my only choice was to retire and take care of him.
First five years after retirement I spent all my time taking care of my husband, his cardiologist even said once that I saved his life by being with him. But I lost him eventually and my life never been the same without him.
