“Children of the Spanish Civil War” in Russia: a difficult return to their homeland. The last “children of the war” The fate of children from Spain to the USSR

In Spain they are called "children of war", and in Russia - "Soviet Spaniards". The Spanish Civil War of 1936-1939 was the prelude to World War II. To protect children from bombing, hunger and other horrors of war, the Republic sent them to Mexico, Canada, France, England, the USSR and other countries. By agreement with the government of the USSR, more than three thousand children were sent to our country as part of four expeditions. In 1938, one of the five hundred children sent to Leningrad was Sergio Salueni (in Russia he is addressed as Sergei Antonovich - his father's name was Antonio).

My brother and I were lucky enough to get to the best city in Russia - Pushkin,” he says. - When we arrived, we were assigned to different orphanages. There were two orphanages in the city where Spanish children lived: for toddlers and older children. My brother was 3 years older than me and ended up in senior group. I was 5 years old, so I was placed in an orphanage on Kolpinskaya Street. Today this street is called Pushkinskaya. I have the best memories of the city and the orphanage. Even today I would like to live in Pushkin, buy a small apartment. This is my dream!

In addition to my brother, my cousins ​​came with me, seven people in total, including my aunt, my father’s sister, she worked in an orphanage as a night nanny. Then my parents came to Pushkin. My father (formerly a famous pilot, aviation colonel) worked with my mother in an orphanage. Mom was a dressmaker, father was a teacher.

I remember well how we children, lined up in pairs, were taken for walks in Catherine Park. I remember the excursion to the Amber Room of the Catherine Palace. While building, led by a teacher, the children even went on an excursion to the Pavlovsk Palace. We lived in Pushkin before the start of the war. In 1941, we were taken deep into Russia, to the Urals, to the Kirov region, to the city of Molotovsk, now it has been renamed Nolinsk.

- Has Russia become for your family not a temporary refuge, but a permanent home?

Yes, because my father was a communist, he was declared a traitor in his homeland, and if he had returned, he would have been shot. In 1944, together with other Spaniards, our family moved to Crimea, to the lands of the deportees Crimean Tatars. The conditions there were very difficult. My father worked on a collective farm as a tree trimmer, then as a watchman. Leaders of the Spanish Communist Party often came to us. On one of these visits, they sent my brother to an orphanage near Moscow, because in our village there was only an 8-year school. I asked to go with him. For me, the orphanage was like a sanatorium. After graduating from school, he entered the Moscow Aviation Institute. I was assigned to a military aircraft factory, a closed enterprise. Later, my work at a secret factory did not allow me to visit my homeland. I worked in Cuba for two and a half years, but the humid climate negatively affected the disease I received during the war (bronchial asthma), and I returned to work at the plant. I still have a lot of friends in Cuba. When the Cuban branch of the airline opened in Moscow, I was invited to work there as an assistant to the chief representative.

- Did you want to go to Spain?

I really wanted to see Spain and return to Russia. Working for an airline allowed me to visit my homeland. But when they remembered us Spanish children there, I was not allowed to go. The impetus for returning home was the screening in Spain of the film “Remember Your Name” with the participation of Lyudmila Kasatkina. After watching it, the Spaniards began to think about the fate of children sent to other countries during the war, and funds were found for their return. The train with the Spaniards departed from Moscow to Odessa, where there was a transfer to a ship. I came to see off those leaving, because there were many friends among them. When the train started moving, I jumped into the carriage at the last minute. The train went through Kyiv, where my parents and older brother lived. I saw them at the station and went to Odessa. When we approached Odessa, it turned out that many still had Soviet money that would not be needed in Spain. They collected the money “in a circle” and handed it to me. I have never had such an amount. On the way back, I generously treated the entire train crew. So I saw off the Spaniards twice. True, another time I was unable to get to Odessa; in Kyiv I was informed that my father had had an accident and was in the hospital.

- Did your parents regret that they stayed in the Soviet Union?

No. I said that my father was a communist. You know, when I came to see him in the hospital and saw him lying with some terrible metal pins in his leg, I asked: “Dad, aren’t you in pain?” He replied: “Yes, of course it hurts, but I’m a communist and I can stand the pain.” And he said this to me alone, in Spanish, other people in the ward could not understand him. Due to deafness, he was never able to learn Russian well.

He was an ordinary communist, a man strong character and will. And everything he did, he did sincerely, with a firm conviction that the decision he had made was correct. He died on December 23, 1959 and was buried in the cemetery in Kyiv. After the death of her father, my mother returned to her homeland. My parents were born in the Spanish village of Fuendetodos. It is famous for being the birthplace of the artist Francisco Goya.

My mother lived to be 100 years old, she died in 2009. My older brother came from Kiev to look after her, but in fact my mother looked after my brother: she cooked, fed... My wife and I left for Spain in 2000, for six months Elena and our dog Chara lived with her mother. Then my mother told me: “You don’t deserve such a good wife!” Mom was a wise woman, they even wrote a book about her, “Eloisa.” A Spanish journalist came and talked with her for a long time, and then put my mother’s memories in a book.

- How is your life in Spain?

Everything is great. True, the relatives who came to meet us were very disappointed. They hired a big truck to carry our things, and we arrived with two suitcases. "Where is your luggage?" - they asked. “That’s all,” we replied. They couldn't believe it. After all, we, unlike all our Spanish relatives, have higher education, and at the same time we looked like beggars in their eyes. But we don’t regret it at all, because when we start to remember and talk about our life, it turns out that ours is much more interesting. The Spanish government assigned me a pension taking into account my Russian experience (40 years) - I receive 600 euros per month, of which 200 euros are the Russian pension and 400 are additional payments. My wife has the same pension - she worked for a year in Spain to be assigned it. We live modestly, but can afford to travel once a year. True, our son takes on the cost of our trips around Russia. He lives and works in Finland. Now we are going to visit him. I also have a daughter from my first marriage, she now lives and works in Spain.

Although I am 81 years old, fortunately I can afford to travel to Russia. My wife Elena and I are driving across Europe by car, crossing water obstacles on ferries. Previously, they could travel up to a thousand kilometers, but now, of course, less.

We stay overnight in hotels. I came to Pushkin for the first time after a long break of almost 60 years, in 2000, and, as in childhood, I was amazed by the beauty of the city. I found a house where I lived for four years. Fortunately, it was not destroyed during the war. Now every year I make a stop in Pushkin to take a walk in the parks.

- Sergey Antonovich, you are a man of amazing destiny. Communication with you is a real gift.

I always dream of a trip to the city of my childhood, because I had many happy days here. Two years ago, we once again drove up to house number 4 on Pushkinskaya Street - now it’s just a residential building - and got into conversation with the owner of a wonderful dog. When we saw that she went to this house, I said that from 1938 to 1941 I lived in this house. Lyubov Borisovna Khotyanovitch, that’s the name of this sweet woman, invited us to visit and introduced us to her husband Valery Konstantinovich. We never expected such a warm welcome.

I did not expect such an attitude towards myself in a local hotel. We usually stay at the Khutorok Hotel in Yam-Izhora. When they found out my biography, they provided us with a suite. My wife and I were confused, because we plan expenses and rent inexpensive rooms. But the hotel staff charged us as for a regular room.

We became friends with Valery Konstantinovich and Lyubov Borisovna, and often call each other. And now we are staying with them - in the house where several happy years of my childhood passed.

-Are you satisfied with your fate?

Yes, like all my friends who live in Russia. I don't need another fate. If we didn't have everything we experienced, we would be deprived! It’s just a pity that many of the Spaniards who lived with me in the orphanage are no longer with us.

In Moscow we meet at the Spanish Center. Today, of those three thousand Spanish children who fled the war in the USSR, very few remain. My friend in Moscow said: “Sergio, how I envy you that you can drive a car!” But if I don’t have the strength to drive a car, I’ll fly by plane. I also dream that a memorial plaque will appear on house number 4 on Pushkinskaya Street, on which it would be written that from 1937 to 1941 there was an orphanage for Spanish children here.

Interview conducted by Tatiana KUZNETSOVA
Photo by the author

During civil war in Spain (1936-1939) thousands of children were forced to leave the country. They found refuge in France, Britain, Belgium, Switzerland, Denmark, and the Soviet Union.

The arrival of small Basques and Asturians in the USSR at the end of the 30s was a brilliant propaganda step of the Soviet government. The Spanish theme was extremely popular in those years. Central newspapers regularly covered the military chronicle of the Civil War in the Pyrenees, so the arrival of small Basques and Asturians aroused unprecedented interest in Soviet society.

The evacuation of children from the war-torn country to the USSR began in the spring of 1937. Already on March 30, the Artek pioneer camp welcomed children from Malaga, Valencia, and Madrid in the amount of 72 people (53 boys and 19 girls). This trip was coordinated with the Spanish Ministry of Health and Social Welfare, and Spanish teachers came along with the children. School classes resumed right at Artek soon after arrival. The necessary textbooks and children's literature were delivered to Artek from Spain. The camp assigned its best counselors to the Spanish children - Kolya Krotov, Leva Olkhovsky and others.

However, the greatest excitement in the USSR was caused by the second expedition of Spanish children, which was widely covered in the Soviet press. On June 22, the French motor ship Santay delivered another 1,505 children from the Basque Country. Newspaper correspondents tried to describe what was happening in as vivid colors as possible. This is how the Pravda newspaper describes the arrival of the Santai steamer in Kronstadt: “Children’s heads could be seen along the entire length of the huge steamer - from its bow to its stern. The children waved their little arms and raised their clenched fists. Red flags flashed in their hands.

The next day an even more enthusiastic meeting awaited them. A whole crowd of Soviet citizens gathered to greet the “children of the heroic Spanish people” fighting fascism; according to the recollections of the little passenger of the ship Virtudes Martinez, policemen dressed in ceremonial white uniforms barely held back the onslaught of people. Many took with them and waved their hands welcomingly with dolls and toys that they had brought with them as gifts.

Manuel Arce, in his book “Memories of Russia,” described his meeting with Soviet soil this way: “In Leningrad, a huge crowd met us on the pier, everyone greeted us, waved their hands, tried to hug us, shouted something. We were taken to a large house, where we were bathed, given a sanitary inspection, then dressed in new clothes (the boys were dressed in sailor uniforms) and given us a real banquet, where on the tables, among other things, there was black caviar, which we saw for the first time and which, by the way, we didn’t like.”

In Leningrad, Spanish children were given a solemn meeting at the Palace of Pioneers. Once again, their arrival aroused great interest. Huge crowds of Leningraders gathered around the Palace of Pioneers. Soviet pioneers gave their guests ties, badges, chocolate, and candies. The program continued festive concert- the fun, as the newspapers wrote, continued until late in the evening.

Literally from the first days after their arrival, children began to be sent in small batches to rest camps - to pioneer camps and sanatoriums in Crimea and Azov.

Reports about the first days of Spanish children's stay in the USSR appeared in newspapers regularly. Correspondents wrote in the most enthusiastic tones about how warmly they were welcomed on Soviet soil and in what wonderful conditions they spent their leisure time. Thus, the Pravda newspaper reported that a group of children was planned to be placed in a sanatorium named after the October Revolution near Odessa. “The sanatorium is located 15 kilometers from the city in a beautiful green park, by the sea. All around are green fields, gardens, vineyards. Two completely renovated buildings have been prepared for Basque children.” They did not forget to mention that even on the way from Leningrad to Odessa, the little guests were warmly greeted by the railway workers of all the stations where the train stopped, and at the station itself the Basques, who had escaped from the heat of the war, were greeted by “cheerful Soviet children.”

Correspondents wrote about the parents of children fighting against fascism, and the children themselves, and what they had to experience in their homeland. So, little Fidel Herrero, “pulled out of his pocket several bullets and shell fragments that he had picked up near his house.” 12-year-old Charito Lorencia also experienced many horrors. “Before her eyes, the Nazis killed her father, a firebrand from Asturias. Being in the fascist rear, Charito decided to run to the Republicans. She made her way through the Bilbao front."

Many Soviet people were sincere in expressing their solidarity with the Spanish people and could not help but sympathize with the little refugees. State authorities received applications from those wishing to adopt a Spanish child into their family. Thus, one of the “children of the war,” Virgilio de Los Llanos Mas, learned many years later that the family of his Russian wife had taken the steps necessary for adoption back in 1937, but the request was denied. “Inna’s parents, like others, were informed that they wanted to save these children from the hardships of war; As soon as there is peace in Spain, they will return to their homeland to be reunited with their parents and brothers and sisters."

The Soviet leadership did not follow the path of other Western European countries that sheltered young Spanish emigrants, where children were mainly distributed among families. Instead, in the USSR in 1937-1939. a network of special orphanages was created in which they lived and studied.

“It must be said that when we Spanish Republican children arrived in Soviet Union, hundreds of Soviet families wanted to adopt us. However, the Soviet authorities who were responsible for us decided to keep us together so that we would not forget our language, our origin, so that we would not lose our Spanish names and surnames, in a word, so that we would remain Spaniards.” .

In Russia, orphanages were mainly located near Moscow, in Leningrad, in Ukraine - in Odessa, Kharkov, Yevpatoriya, Kherson, Kyiv. All work on accommodation, economic and administrative services, and raising children is in accordance with a special resolution of the Council of People's Commissars of the USSR dated September 16, 1937. was entrusted to the People's Commissariat of Education of the RSFSR and the People's Commissariat of Education of the Ukrainian SSR under the personal responsibility of the People's Commissars. Back in November 1937, under the People's Commissariat of Education of the RSFSR, a group was created to manage the administrative, economic and educational work of orphanages for Spanish children. This group was later transformed into a special department.

Orphanages for Spanish children were created on the basis of comfortable sanatoriums and rest homes. Educational process in Spanish, it was organized taking into account the ethnic and cultural background of the students, Spanish teachers and educators worked in each orphanage, classes were taught in the children’s native language. Textbooks on the geography and history of Spain, as well as other disciplines, were published especially for Spanish children in 1940.

As the Spanish historian Immaculada Colomina Limonero notes, an element much more important than education in the Soviet ideological system was the concept of “upbringing in the communist spirit.” The heads of orphanages were asked to recruit communists and Komsomol members from pedagogical schools and universities, as well as the best pioneer leaders of the country. .

Orphanages were supplied with bulletins on the situation in Spain, newspapers, and a series of lectures was developed for pupils in order to help overcome the religious, anarchist and other remnants that exist among some of these children and youth.

Interest in Spanish children in pre-war Soviet society remained high. The orphanages were often visited by honored guests - both Russians and Spaniards. For example, the fiery Passionaria - Dolores Ibarruri, as well as the General Secretary of the Communist Party of Spain, Jose Diaz, came to orphanage No. 1, who donated a library of classical literature to the orphanage, which, however, was almost all lost during the evacuation. And the children from Obninsk orphanage No. 5 remembered for a long time June 12, 1938, when pilots M. Raskova and V. Grizodubova flew to them on a plane painted to look like a crocodile. In memory of this event, 500 postcards were printed with images of the Spanish Orphanage, children and pilots.

In conclusion, it can be noted that Spanish children in the USSR were greeted as real heroes of the civil war in the Pyrenees. Throughout the summer of 1937, reports about Basque children appeared on the pages of Pravda with enviable regularity, and interest in them was greatly increased by propaganda. However, the desire of individual citizens to accept children into families was not encouraged by the authorities. Instead, Spanish children, placed in orphanages specially created for them, found themselves in a certain isolation in Soviet society. A so-called buffer environment was formed around them, which, on the one hand, contributed to the formation of the national identity of the students, and on the other hand, was subject to the norms and rules of the Soviet ideological system.

Notes

1. Spanish children in Artek - Pravda, 1937, April 3.
2. "Pravda", 1937, April 1
3. From the country of heroic Basques - Pravda, 1937, June 24.
4. Right there.
5. Martnez V.C. La Espanola rusa. M., 2011. P. 18 (Hereinafter, quotes are given in the author’s translation).
6. V. Soloviev. Basque children among Leningrad pioneers - Pravda, 1937, June 25.
7. Pravda, June 25
8. Pravda, June 27
9. Children from the Basque country. - “Pravda”, 1937, June 27
10. Spanish children in Crimea. - “Pravda”, 1937, June 29
11. De los Llanos Mas V. Do you remember, tovarish...? From the archive of one of the children taken to the USSR during the Spanish Civil War. M., 2008. P.70.
12. Manuel Arce. Memories of Russia. Madrid. 2011 p.20
13. GARF. R-5446. Op. 1st century D. 495. L. 66.
14. Limonero I.C. Dos patrias, tres mil destinos. Madrid. 2010. P.34
15. RGASPI F. 533 Op.4 D. 405 L.1
16. Martnez V.C. La Espanola rusa. M., 2011. P. 29
17. I.L. Efimova/ School-colony “Vigorous Life”. Spanish orphanage. Museum of the History of Obninsk. - Kaliningrad. 2012. P.198

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In Spain we are called “children of war,” and in Russia they called us “Soviet Spaniards.” Some of my comrades published their memoirs. Others will never write anything again: some died on the fronts of the Great Patriotic War, others died of illness and old age. Our notes are dedicated to them, as well as to the great people of Russia, who raised us. Virgilio de los Llanos

What was the fate of Spanish children taken from a warring country to the Soviet Union in 1937-1938?

During the festive victorious days of May, many letters from veterans came to our editorial office. In our special section “Children of War” famous artists and others famous people they talked about what the war meant in their lives, shared their childhood memories of those terrible years. There were dozens of letters and calls, but one letter particularly struck us. It came from Spain, from the city of Valencia, from a man named Virgilio de los Llanos Mas.

Today, there are probably few people for whom the words “Spanish children” or “children of Spain” have any special meaning. The educated will perhaps remember Hemingway - “A Farewell to Arms!”, the most advanced - an episode from Tarkovsky’s film “Mirror” - about children who were brought in 1938 from warring Spain to the Soviet Union. Virgilio was one of these children. One of the five hundred who ended up in Leningrad. They consider the Soviet Union their second homeland, and the fate of our country is not indifferent to them today. Senor Virgilio told us that in 1967, an article by the famous journalist Eduard Arenin about the children of Spain was published in “Evening Leningrad”. We urgently rushed to Publicchka to search. And here we have the article. We decided to publish it. And Senor Virgilio de los Llanos will tell our readers about the fate of the Spanish-Soviet children, what happened to them after all these years.

A well-known power engineer, holder of the Order of Lenin for his contribution to the construction of the Kuibyshev hydroelectric power station, Honored Builder of the Russian Federation Virgilio de los Llanos Mas is the author of the book “Do you remember, tovarisch?..”.

Virgilio's father, after whom he was named, is Virgilio Llanos Manteca, a socialist, participant in the Spanish Civil War (1936 - 1939). His mother, actress Francisca Mas Roldan, on the eve of General Franco's putsch, went on tour with the theater to Argentina; anti-government rebellion and war cut her off from her children. Virgilio met his mother only 34 years later. Fearing for the lives of the children, the father sent them to the USSR on one of the last expeditions shortly before the defeat of the Republic.

While living in the Soviet Union, Virgilio translated into Spanish, mainly books of a technical and scientific nature. Here he found his only love for life - his wife Inna Aleksandrovna Kashcheeva.

Today we begin the publication of the memoirs of Virgilio de los Llanos Mas

Four expeditions

Brutal civil conflict 1936 - 1939 in Spain, in the flames of which the lives of a million people burned, was the prelude to the Second World War. The Basque cities of Durango and Guernica were razed to the ground. The martyrdom of these cities was immortalized by Pablo Picasso in the epic painting Guernica.

To protect children from bombing, hunger and other horrors of war, the Republic sent them to Mexico, Canada, France, England, the USSR and other countries. By agreement with the USSR government, about 3,000 children were sent to the Soviet Union as part of four expeditions.

The first, with 72 children from Madrid, Andalusia and the Valencian Community, set off in April 1937 from the port of Alicante to Yalta on board the Cabo de Palos. The ships with children were guarded by the British; The sky above Bilbao was guarded by a squadron of Soviet I-15 fighters. The Spaniards affectionately called them “chatos” - “snub-nosed”. Soviet pilots did not allow German bombers of the Condor Legion to destroy the children's convoy.

The second expedition to Russia left the port of Santurce in Bilbao at dawn on June 13, 1937. Five days later, under threat of encirclement, the Basque Republican army was forced to leave Bilbao. The children arrived in Leningrad on June 23, 1937. The risky departure from the port of Gijon of the third expedition - the French coasting ship "Derigerma", on board which were 1,100 children of Asturian miners and Basque metal workers, as well as their happy arrival in Leningrad on the motor ship "Felix Dzerzhinsky" was precisely described in the chronicle by Eduard Arenin.

The last, fourth expedition of 300 Spanish children began its long journey to Russia on November 25, 1938. The children were taken by bus from Barcelona to the border with France, then taken by train to the port of Le Havre. The motor ship Felix Dzerzhinsky was waiting for them at the pier. The children arrived in Leningrad on December 5, three months before the defeat of the Republic.

As part of the last expedition, the author of these lines, Virgilio Llanos, came to Leningrad, along with my older sister Carmen and younger brother Carlos.

We were greeted very warmly. Each time the arrival of expeditions to Leningrad became a celebration of solidarity Soviet people with the heroic Spanish people. The Spaniards were accepted by orphanage No. 8 on Tverskaya, and orphanage No. 9 on 25th October Avenue (it later became the Youth House). Orphanages No. 10 and 11, for the youngest, are located in Pushkin.

Already in 1956, when the first of us returned to our homeland, they were met at the port by a crowd of journalists expecting a sensation: Russified emigrants who had lost their native language. It is unlikely that they were ready to see such a number of educated, cultured people, excellent command of their native language, who had only kind words addressed to the Soviet country...

Spaniards who grew up in the USSR will never forget that in 1936-1939 the generosity of the Soviet people saved us from certain death.

Let me address you, dear residents of the city on the Neva, readers of Evening Petersburg. We, aged children of war, tried very hard to write this chronicle for you. For three months now, the telephones in our apartments in Valencia, Madrid, Bilbao, Gijon have been ringing from morning to evening. Email doesn't sleep either. It seems that we even became younger, remembering ourselves as boys who were entrusted with preparing the orphanage’s wall newspaper.

Goodbye Spain, hello Russia!

I vividly remember one episode, the last one from my childhood. I just turned thirteen. We crossed the border of Spain with France in Port Bou in November 1938 - three hundred girls and boys; We are the last of the children of the Republic to go to the Soviet Union. Fourteen-year-old Carmen, eleven-year-old Carlos and I are dragging our simple suitcases.

We left Barcelona by bus. On the way, several times we were forced to run out of buses and take refuge in roadside ditches - fascist aircraft flew over these places. We were tormented by hunger and thirst, and we were covered in road dust. Soon Port Bou appeared, the last piece of native land. The Spanish border guards hugged us and raised their clenched fists in farewell greeting: happy journey! The French gendarmes searched everyone, asking if we were carrying gold.

On railway station Soviet representatives were expecting us, and the first thing they did was take us to a restaurant for lunch. Lord, it was a real feast! Then we were taken by train to Paris, and from there to Le Havre. The motor ship Felix Dzerzhinsky was anchored here. A scarlet flag with a hammer and sickle fluttered from the mast.

The voyage was not easy for both the passengers and the crew of the Felix Dzerzhinsky motor ship. The crew had to perform the functions of nannies and educators, waiters and nurses for many days and nights. At night, in silence, I silently swallowed tears. At 13 years old it is still acceptable to cry...

In the terrible November sea I said goodbye to childhood, which was inexorably moving away...

Behind us was the narrow street of San Cosme and Damian in the Lavapies district of Madrid; here, on the fourth floor, my parents rented a corner apartment.

My brother Carlos and I attended Don Felix's school on the first floor of our house, and my sister Carmen attended Doña Ramona's school on the second floor. From Don Felix, under the threat of his painfully hitting ruler, I learned to recite the names of the main European capitals in a tongue twister and learned the multiplication table. I also mastered in practice how to run a model of Watt's steam engine, as a result of which I still proudly wear the scar from the burn. I also learned to draw rabbits from life, which we happily let out of their cages every now and then.

In the distance the red-faced sexton of the Church of San Lorenzo disappeared, chasing the children and painfully whipping our bare legs with a twig. The “crime” usually consisted of trying to climb the church fence.

The hated sexton spent more time in the tavern than in the church. So it was not difficult for the stately Aunt Elvira to figure out his whereabouts. She loved her nephews like her own children. Seeing my brother and I bawling and bruised, she rushed to the tavern. There, to the approving cries of visitors “Bravo, Elvira!”, the aunt grabbed a bottle from the sexton’s table and poured the contents onto his bald head. The aunt didn’t put her foot down for a word - she called the tormentor the son of a not-so-best mother and warned: if he touches us again, she’ll break his head with a bottle...

As a child, there was a friendly neighbor whom everyone called “Don Julio the Socialist.” I remember: I was about six years old, he loudly shouted to the whole street: “Long live the Republic!”

Most of all, I worry about the health of my younger brother, who lies motionless on the bottom bunk. He looks at me, in his eyes there is a silent question: “When will this end, Virgilio?” He's used to trusting me. A few months ago in Barcelona, ​​where we lived Last year Before leaving, Carlos was put in a plaster corset. Hard plaster protected the weak spine from possible deformations. My brother's illness was caused by hunger. When we said goodbye, a crying Aunt Rubia told my sister and me: “Take care of Carlitos! He is very sick and may remain disabled!”

Heading towards Leningrad, the Felix Dzerzhinsky entered the canal, which seemed to me like a quiet oasis in a stormy sea. Here we were no longer sick. Armando Viadiou, the eldest of the three Catalan brothers sailing with us in the cabin, says that the canal is called Kiel and crosses Nazi Germany. And indeed, the concrete banks are decorated with swastikas. Everything around is gray: sky, water, land. Predatory swastikas change my attitude towards the Kiel Canal, which ceases to seem like a peaceful oasis.

On the approach to the Kronstadt fortress, two Soviet warships with festive flags on their masts came out to meet our ship. Bands played on the decks as the sailors greeted the heroic Spanish people, who took upon themselves the first battle against fascism.

In Spain in those years the film “We are from Kronstadt” was extremely popular. My friends and I have watched it several times. I remember the silent hall of the Goya cinema; Each time there was a glimmer of hope that the handsome fair-haired sailor who played the guitar would be saved and would not be executed. And now we were sailing in the very waters in which our favorite movie hero died.

It was piercingly cold in the Leningrad port. Despite this, crowds of people came to greet us.

(To be continued)

Report from the exhibition taking place in Moscow

We continue our story aboutorganized under the patronage of the Spanish Embassycultural events taking place in Moscow.

This time we are withwith helphistorian Dolores Cabra, who prepared the exhibition, will tell you about the “Russian Spaniards”.

As part of the Cross Year of Spanish Language and Literature in Spanish in Russia 2015-2016." The exhibition “Children of War” opened at the Moscow House of Nationalities.

In three small halls, an interesting set of exhibits collected by the Archive of the Spanish Civil War was presented - documents, photographs, drawings, letters, books telling about the fate of Spanish children from communist families who were transported to the Soviet Union during the Spanish Civil War.

During the campaign of solidarity with the struggle of the Spanish people, about four thousand Spanish children were taken to the USSR. In 1937 - 1938 for their education and upbringing, a network of orphanages was opened, which existed until 1951 and were located mainly in Moscow, the Moscow region, Leningrad, the Leningrad region, as well as in Kyiv, Kuibyshev, Kharkov, Kherson and Evpatoria.

Groups of children who arrived on French and Russian ships were distributed to different orphanages; the adults accompanying them remained in some, since they no longer had the opportunity to return to their homeland. So people completely unprepared for this became translators and educators.

The Soviet state gave the children everything it could, although at that time there was nothing special to share. Little Spaniards lived next to Russian children, ate the same food, played the same games. Particular attention was paid to preserving those rudiments of culture that children already possessed, and native language(which was facilitated by more or less compact living).

Children wrote touching letters in Spanish to Dolores Ibarruri and Jose Diaz, dreaming of the victory of the communists and returning to their homeland, sharing longing for their families, talking about their small successes in their new life.

Young immigrants were actively involved in music and dance clubs - after all, in Spain, absolutely everyone sings and dances at an early age, and “españolitos” delighted those around them with national songs and dances. Spanish children studied on par with Soviet children, graduated from schools, and entered technical schools, institutes, and universities. Little emigrants who came from the other end of Europe shared the fate of the country that sheltered them.

But for many, this move was not the last, since five years later the war came to Russian territory, and orphanages that found themselves in close proximity to the battlefield were evacuated further to the east and to Central Asia.

Those who had already grown up by this time stood up to defend our country and fought side by side with Soviet soldiers at the front, defended Moscow and Leningrad, worked in the rear in factories and factories, sharing with their new homeland all the hardships of military life and the joy of victories. .

List of Spanish women who participated in the defense of Leningrad.

After the end of the war, Spanish children, like everyone else, continued to study and work; the only thing that distinguished them was the desire to get to the big cities where the Spanish diaspora had developed. At this time, the first of three waves of returns to their homeland took place: a number of emigrants who fought in the USSR, children whose parents were in exile in Mexico, Chile, France, and the educators and teachers who accompanied them returned to Spain to reunite with their families.

Arrival of the motor ship "Crimea" at the port of Castellon.

The second wave took place after the death of Stalin with the assistance of the Red Cross: in seven trips, about 1,200 children (who were between 22 and 34 years old at the time) and adults returned home - prisoners of war from the Spanish Division or those who, due to duty, ended up in the USSR at the beginning war. In 1957, the process was stopped by the decision of the Spanish side, which did not want the return to the country of adults who had received upbringing and education under the communist regime.

The third wave lasted from the early 70s to the early 90s: after Franco’s death, everyone who wanted it received passports and visas without any difficulties and was able to return home. But many continued to maintain contacts with friends who remained in the USSR.

And now there are many Spanish and Spanish-Russian dynasties left in Russia - these are already the children and grandchildren of those who, in the distant terrible years, came to the Soviet Union and took root in it forever. Many managed to find their families in Spain and establish contact with them, others were less fortunate.

“Children of War” shared their experiences in books, reflecting on the destinies of Russia and Spain, seen from the outside and inside, on the self-awareness of people who grew up in a foreign land and became close to it, but never forgot about their “first homeland.” As a rule, everyone living in the same city knows each other, participates in the work of Spanish clubs or, as in Moscow, the Spanish Center, which has become a small homeland and a venue for cultural events and intimate meetings. It was there that in April 2011 Russian fans received the great Spanish singer Rafael.

The Spanish Center has done a lot of work and helped many “Russian Spaniards” learn about their roots and find relatives. So these blood ties, already on a material level, reinforce the spiritual affinity of Spain and Russia, which has always existed between our countries.

It is open until October 25 (Monday to Friday, from 10-00 to 19-00) in the Moscow House of Nationalities, which is located at:

Moscow, st. Novaya Basmannaya, 4, building 1.
Admission to the exhibition is free.

60 years ago, in the spring of 1937, eight months after the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War, the first ship with Spanish refugee children on board arrived in the Soviet Union from Valencia. There were only 72 of them. But the next ship, Sontay, moored in Kronstadt in July 1937, already brought 1,499 children of different ages to Soviet Russia: from 5 to 15 years.

Thus began the long emigration of more than 3 thousand Spanish children. For many of whom it never ended. And although today the Spanish government is doing a lot for their return (for example, a special agreement was signed between Moscow and Madrid on the recognition of dual citizenship for these people, on the transfer of pensions from Russia to Spain), nevertheless, even here the authorities (this time - already Spanish) act selectively and largely for propaganda purposes. It’s a pity... After all, nothing characterizes power more than its attitude towards its citizens and compatriots.

How “children running from a thunderstorm” appeared in Spain...

More than half of the Spanish children who arrived in the Soviet Union in 1937–1939 were from the Basque Country, from which - after the infamous bombing of Guernica and the fall of the main republican strongholds - mass emigration began. According to some reports, more than 20 thousand Basque children left their homeland in those months, many of whom, however, returned after some time.

Countries such as France (9 thousand people), Switzerland (245 people), Belgium (3.5 thousand), Great Britain (about 4 thousand), Holland (195 people), Mexico ( 500 children). A total of 2,895 children arrived in the Soviet Union (in 1937 - 2,664, in 1938 - 189, in 1939 - 42). For that time, this was a truly unprecedented emigration of children. In two years - from 1937 to 1939 - more than 34 thousand children aged 3 to 15 years emigrated from Spain. Most of them soon returned to their homeland, but those who emigrated to Mexico and especially to the Soviet Union stayed in foreign lands for a long time. But if it was easier for Spanish immigrants in Mexico, if only because the language environment was the same as in their homeland, those who found themselves in the USSR had to go through a lot before they were able to adapt to Russian realities. And many never found a new homeland in the USSR.

Many parents sent their children to a foreign land, thinking that it would not be for long - until the fighting and bombing in their homeland subsided. But life decreed otherwise: most of the children who arrived in the USSR remained to live here, many never saw their relatives again.

I was convinced of this after getting acquainted with numerous documents at the Russian Center for the Storage and Study of Documents modern history(RCKHIDNI). This center is located in Moscow and is the successor to the former Institute of Marxism-Leninism. Among other materials, the RCKHIDNI also contains the archives of the Comintern.

So, it was in the archives of the Comintern that it turned out to be possible to find a lot of evidence that makes it possible to create a fairly vivid picture of how Spanish children lived in the USSR, how they were accepted, what difficulties they encountered, how they adapted or did not adapt to their new environment . All the documents given below are, as usual, classified as “Top Secret”.

Out of the frying pan into the fire

The first thing that catches your eye when you carefully read the archives is the method of providing Soviet assistance to Spanish refugee children. This is what we're talking about. If in most countries that sheltered young Spanish emigrants, children were mainly distributed among families, then in the Soviet Union special orphanages were created in which children lived and studied. They had both Spanish and Soviet educators, teachers and doctors with them. The activities of orphanages were supervised by a special “Department of Special Purpose Orphanages” created under the People's Commissariat for Education.

By the end of 1938, there were 15 orphanages for Spanish children in the USSR: ten in the RSFSR (among which one - N10 in the city of Pushkin near Leningrad - specifically for preschoolers), and five others in Ukraine. In Russia, orphanages were mainly concentrated near Moscow and Leningrad, and holiday homes of the All-Russian Central Council of Trade Unions and old noble mansions were used to create them. In Ukraine, these orphanages were created in Odessa, Kherson, Kyiv and Kharkov. During the Great Patriotic War Most of the “Spanish orphanages” were evacuated to Central Asia, Bashkiria, the Volga region, the North Caucasus and Georgia. In the spring of 1944, more than a thousand children were again brought to the Moscow region, some remained in Georgia, Crimea, and Saratov.

The All-Russian Central Council of Trade Unions financed the orphanages, and many organizations supervised the orphanages - from the Komsomol Central Committee and the Trade Union Central Committee preschool institutions and orphanages, to the People's Commissariat of Health and the People's Commissariat for Education. Before the war, the standard of care for one pupil of a “Spanish orphanage” was 2.5–3 times higher than for pupils of a regular Soviet orphanage. In the summer, some of the children (mostly those in poor health) were taken south to pioneer camps, including the famous Artek camp.

In total, about 1,400 teachers, educators, and doctors worked in orphanages, among them 159 were Spaniards. In the documents of the Comintern Special attention addressed to the party affiliation of the Spanish personnel. Archival data on this issue is as follows:

“Of these, members of the Communist Party of Spain - 37 people, members of the United Socialist Party of Catalonia - 9 people, members of the United Socialist Youth of Spain - 29 people, members of the Socialist Party of Spain - 11 people, left-wing Republicans - 9 people, non-party people - 62 people.”

(From the report of the “department of special purpose orphanages” for 1937).

The archives of the RCKHIDNI contain a list of “unreliable” adult Spaniards from among teachers and educators, who, in the opinion of the Spanish representative in the People’s Commissariat for Education, Soledad Sanchi, the author of the note, needed to be “returned to Spain as soon as possible.” Interesting are the characteristics given in this document to Spanish teachers and educators who did not meet Soviet requirements:

“Soledad Alonso - cannot work with children because it does not interest her, has no political training and does not want to acquire it. For her, the Soviet Union is a country like any other.”

As is clear from the report of the department of orphanages under the People's Commissariat of Education dated December 31, 1938, the structure of each “Spanish” orphanage in the USSR was as follows:

“The institution for Spanish children is called and is essentially an orphanage with a school attached to it. The orphanage is headed by a director who has the following deputies and assistants:

a) for academic work,

b) for political and educational work /candidates for this work are selected directly by the Komsomol Central Committee and approved by both the Komsomol Central Committee and the RSFSR People's Communist Party/,

c) for administrative and economic work.”

Thus, we see that these small colonies of Spanish children were built on the socialist principle of collectivism, imposed in everything on the Spaniards, who, on the other hand, were kept rather isolated from the rest of Soviet society. Political conversations and seminars on “familiarization with the basis of the Soviet system, with the tasks and work of the All-Union Communist Party (Bolsheviks)” (quotes from the same report) were held regularly in orphanages. There are known cases when Spanish teachers and educators were expelled from orphanages, who, in the opinion of the directors of these orphanages, were a “negative element” and also exhibited a “Spanish character.” Here, for example, is one of the archival evidence:

“The People's Commissariat for Education is frightened by the message that in the Leningrad orphanages the Spaniards have already created an organization for themselves - Committees Popular Front Spain... During a seminar of Spanish teachers in Moscow, the Spaniards of orphanage N7 held a meeting without informing anyone, and singled out one who then spoke on behalf of the whole group at the final meeting of the seminar. In general, the manifestation of Spanish morals began...”