The Life and Times of Vassily K

Sergei K. in conversation with Tapti Roy

Thinking about the life and destiny of my dear Grandfather Vassily, I have come to the conclusion that his life is best defined in the words of Sheila Fitzpatrick in one of her studies about Russia, as an ‘ordinary life in extraordinary times.’ 

The reason I sit down to write about my Granddad is because he had looked after our family through the most challenging of times overcoming dramatic obstacles that marked the situation in Russia between the years 1920 and 1960. Vassily not only survived but thrived as did his children and their families by the dint of his intelligence and pluck. 

Vassily Pavlovich K. was born in 1896 in a small village near Saratov city (the area of middle Volga River) in a place where his ancestors lived for centuries. That land has a great history: in the middle ages, it was occupied by theGolden Horde and after their power declined, Russian peasants migrated and established settlements, some of which still exist today[1]. 

Vassily attended a primary school run by the parish church and received very good education (I remember Granddad explaining me when I was very young, the principles of four-stroke engine – after more than 50 years he remembered every details). By the time Vassily turned 11, he had already trained as a hammersmith and later while working in the village obtained skills in joinery, carpentry and in caring for horses. 

In 1913, when Vassily reached 17, he was recruited to one of the reserve regiments of the Tsarist army in Saratov city which was had turned into a regional centre with a large garrison (around 60 thousand service men compared to 242 thousand of townspeople). Due to his experience and expertise, Vassily was appointed in the cavalry regiment. 

The service of young cavalryman was terminated suddenly in February 1917 when the last Russian Tsar Nikolai II was forced to abdicate. When this was happened, all of Russia experienced a great political shock. The way the course of events of February and October Revolutions unfolded in a province town is very clearly described in the study of Donald J. Raleigh.[2] For some time, there was total chaos! 

Within a year the Russian Empire fell with no single political party to take any decision or be responsible for the future of the country: none but the Bolsheviks led by Vladimir Lenin. Why did most of the population within the Russian Empire support the Bolsheviks? The answer to such an important question can be found in the study of Alexander Rabinowitch.[3]

Vassily, a young cavalryman had already served for four years when Tsarist army was disbanded in 1917. He was faced with a choice: to join the White Army and support the previous regime that had been unfair to the majority of people in Russia or to fight for a new and better life promised by Vladimir Lenin and the Bolsheviks in October 1917. 

My Granddad didn’t think too much of this dramatic situation. Born in poverty and without a chance for a better life if Tsarist regime were to be reinstated and inspired by the new political change and challenges, he signed up for the Red Army and fought in the Civil War that waged between 1918 and 1921. He often told me that this war was largely prompted by Western powers who supported the leaders of White Army. Vassily once again was inducted into the cavalry. 

By the end of 1921, all major battles within the Soviet Union were over and the Government decided to reduce the number of military men (till 1920 the strength of the Red Army was over 5 million). Vassily’s regiment was relocated to Kursk where he met a young woman Evdokia (she was born in 1900)[4]. ‘The Fate moved the pieces on the Big Chessboard of Life,’ - soon after Vassiliy’s resignation, the young couple married. 

Young bride Evdokia

Newly wed Vassily in 1922

While researching the lives of Vassily and Evdokia, I applied to the regional archives at Kursk and got lucky when the archivist sent me Evdokia’s genealogical tree. The first record about her family dates to 1675 when her ancestor (surprisingly his name was also Vassily) came to the south of Russia as a “state peasant” – who was different from the “krepostnye krestyane,” a special type of peasants in Tsarists Russia[5]. 

Alexander and Tatyana 

Life turned hard in the early Soviet days and my Granddad Vassily, had to employ all his ingenuity to survive. In the period, 1922 to 1930, he with his family had to undertake many travels across southern and western Russia in search of a job. The economy in the country was in deep depression and it was extremely hard to get a reasonable position. The situation was further complicated by crop failures and widespread hunger. In 1924, their first child Tatyana was born and in 1925, a son, Alexander. 

In 1929 was born their second son and my father Vladimir. Due to frequent travels of the family Vladimir lived separately with Evdokia’s parents in the Kursk region until 1938. 

In 1930, my Granddad found a long-term position as a carpenter’s foreman at a coal mine in the Donetsk region[6]. It offered a good salary that gave him the chance to send his children to the local elementary school and to rent a space for living as well. His wife Evdokia also found a job as a cook (she was really a good cook – I do remember this from my childhood). 

In 1931, Vassily was recommended by the local Bolshevik’s organisation in Donetsk to be a member of the Communist Party and this membership opened up for him new opportunities. The Soviet state had a very sophisticated system of recruiting candidates for different responsible jobs spread all across the large country. Under Stalin, a thorough background check was undertaken before anyone was inducted into the Communist Party and this was repeated at later stages of careers. Upon being accepted into the party, and working for the next 6 years in Donetsk, Vassily in 1937 was sent to an Agricultural College where he earned a Diploma. That year his wife Evdokia and 3 children moved back to live in Kursk. In 1938, Vassily was assigned the responsibility of the Director of a state dairy farm in Tugulym – a small village in Western Siberia close to Tyumen city. He proved to be very successful in this enterprise. 

Vassily moved the family from Kursk to the new place which wasn’t very easy to travel to (the distance was 2400 km.), rented a couple of rooms in a two-storey house like shown below, quite typical in Siberian villages. 

Siberian Village Tugulym 

At the end of 1930, Tugulym was a small regional centre where there were a high school, a regional medical centre, a library and the so called ‘House of Culture’-a place where villagers watched performances and movies and organized meetings. Due to its location on the geographical border of Siberia, this village had an informal name, ‘The Gates to Siberia.’ During Tsarist times, large numbers of prisoners had to walk to serve the notorious penal servitude in Siberia. The road they took ran along the outskirts of Tugulym. 

The Prisoner's Road  to Siberia 

In April 1941, was born their second daughter Raissa and life for Vasily and his family appeared to have become stable till Hitler’s troops invaded Russia on the 22nd of June 1941 and the Second World War came upon our country. 

In early July, Vassily applied to the regional military recruitment office of the Soviet army and asked to be sent to the front urgently. Such actions were commonly initiated by millions of Soviet people; they were conscious of the need to defend their motherland and the responsibility and honour to do so. 

In October 1941, after a short training in a course for commanders, Vassily was given the rank of a lieutenant and sent to the north-western front as a cavalry platoon commander. At the beginning of 1944 he was already promoted to the rank of a senior lieutenant with a new appointment - assistant for supplies of 563 mortar regiment in the reserve regiment of the chief command. 

Tatyana and her friend

The situation in all the fronts in 1941-1944 for the Red Army was quite dramatic and a lot of young persons in Soviet Union who just reached 18, were to be drafted into the army. This also directly affected my family. 

In 1942 Vassily’s eldest daughter Tatyana was sent on a short-term course for radio operators and commissioned for war; sadly in 1943 she died in a Nazi attack. In the photo taken a month before her coming to the war, Tatyana is at the right side with her best friend. 

Alexander in 1843

The next year 1943 Vassily’s first son Alexander was also recruited and initially sent for training as an aircraft mechanic in school and later to the front. Alexander fought in the war and was granted State awards. The pictures compare how he grew up in War. Those who served in the USSR Air Force during the Second World War were known as ‘Stalin’s hawks’.

Sergeant Major Alexander

In 2015, I called my uncle Alexander to congratulate him on the occasion of the 70th of Anniversary of the Great Victory.That year he reached 90. Talking to Alexander I suddenly became aware how young he was when the Second World War finished – only 20 years old! 

The life in the deep Siberian region wasn’t easy. Evdokia worked hard (10-11 hours a day) at a state farm and ran her household. She constantly thought and worried about her children and husband in the war. The second son Vladimir helped Evdokia in housework and took care of his small sister – Raissa. In 1943 Evdokia, sent Vassily a picture of their young 2 year-old daughter.

Evdokia and Raissa in 1943 and Raissa in 1950s

Dr. Raissa in the 70s

Later in the 60s, aunt Raissa graduated from Medical Academy and became a doctor. She was a radiologist in medicine of high caliber. 

                               

In May 1944, Vassily was seriously wounded and after treatment relocated to the south-western front. 

In the hospital May 1944

Given his efficiency and adroitness, Vassily was made a captain in the ordnance corpsresponsible for supplies of soldiers and ammunition. He proved to be excellent in his job and used every trick to keep his regiment contented with all the needs. He put his team to various jobs and that led to some remarkable results.[7]

Capt. Vassily in 1945

Sr. Lt. Vassily in 1943

Using the archival sources, I was able to discover episodes unknown to me that demonstrated the talents of Vassily for understanding and assessing people: “...In August 21-27/1944 Vassily K. organized perfectly uninterrupted supply of the regiment with ammunition, armament and food in spite of limited logistic capacities and in conditions of rapid advancement in battle. His actions strengthened combat capabilities for destruction of a Nazi grouping” - written in the “Award list” which I found at the site. For those acts of bravery, Vassily was awarded by the Order of Great Patriotic War of the 2nd grade. It was evident that he was able to get together a cohesive team, using his experience, knowledge and understanding of people. 

To complete the story of my Granddad in the World War, here are pictures of Vassily with his fellow soldiers and the image of the Order. 

With fellow soldiers

North western Front -winter 1943

Order of Great Patriotic War

Returning in December 1945, Vasilly constructed a comfortable home for the family. 

The battles were over and for the family, three of six members had participated in the Great Patriotic War; the elder daughter Tatyana perished while the others returned safety. For Russia it was just one from millions’ ‘payments’ towards the Great Victory. 

My father Vladimir also chose to join the armed service. In 1947 after graduating from high school in Tugulym, he was sent to the Naval Aviation College where he obtained the qualification of an Air Force mechanic like his brother Alexander. 

Young  Sergeant Vladimir 

My parents

Soviet Union started the next stage of restructuring staff in the armed forces. The veterans were being replaced by young generation. For the next seven years, Vladimir served in Polar Navy Air Forces near Murmansk city. As the member of crew, he flew in hydroplanes for patrolling the Russian sector of Arctic. During the voyages he visited plenty of Polar islands some of which were uninhabited. After demobilizing in early 50s Vladimir married, my mother whom he knew from his childhood. 

On the Polar Island

Being a small village, Tugulym had a major disadvantage. It lacked any facilities for higher education. That was why Vassily’s elder son Alexander at the end of 1940s moved to the administrative centre Sverdlovsk (nowadays - Ekaterinburg) and graduated from Ural Polytechnic Academy. He got a Diploma in Electrical Engineering and after some time became an assistant professor at the Academy. 

Vladimir with the support Alexander also moved to Sverdlovsk, where he was appointed in a factory which manufactured high-tech equipment for space flights. Starting his career as locksmith he reached the level of production site manager. 

After retiring my Granddad Vassily continued to be very active and engaged in beekeeping, remodeling of his estate and overseeing livestock. 

In the middle of the 60s the local administration of Tugulym offered Vassily the job of a carpenter to supervise the construction of a new local canteen for 200 visitors. It was a remarkable event because the village really needed a canteen and the local newspaper published a special report and published a picture of the veterans who participated in construction. 

The Veterans

All the men in the photograph were local heroes who experienced two Revolutions, the Civil war, the dramatic Stalin’s period, the World War, time of experiments with agriculture undertaken by Nikita Khrushev and a period of Brezhnev’s stagnation. They survived in spite of all the challenges and were yet ready to improve the quality of life in a small village Tugulym, the real rural Russia!

I am happy and proud that I got to spend my childhood in Tugulym in my grandparents’ home which I remember very fondly. There I got some lessons like: how to care for livestock and bees (Granddad Vassily was a passionate beekeeper) and to harvest hay, where in the nearest forest could mushrooms or wild berries be found, how to handle a hammer saw, axe and other carpentry tools. From my childhood I have learnt of other “rural” knowledge which may appear a bit exotic in our digital and postindustrial times. 

My fate, however, decreed that after high school I serve in the Soviet Army and later graduated from Mining Academy and due to the changes in Russia tried various jobs that took me to different countries in Africa, Middle East and South Asia. 

My Granddad Vasssily and my Grandmother Evdokia died in their home and are buried in the Tugulym cemetery. My parents Vladimir and Eugenia, aunt Raissa and Uncle Alexander  have also passed on. 

Looking at the photos of my heroes, I think: are these not the icons of the beginning of the 20th century? Are their lives not comparable to all the well-known historical figures? Nowadays I am trying to emulate their approach to life, their readiness to respond to challenges and their major characteristic, to take care of family in any changes and conditions of time. All this I hope to pass down to my descendants. 

Sergei K. lives in Moscow 

[1] Mongol Tartar empire established in the 13th century and gradually declined after the middle of the 14th century 

[2] Donald J. Raleigh, “Revolution on the Volga: 1917 in Saratov” (Cornell University Press, 1986). 

[3] Alexander Rabinowitch, “The Bolsheviks Come to Power: The Revolution of 1917 in Petrograd” (New York Norton, 1976). 

[4] A territory in Central Russia 

[5] Krepostnye krestyane or serfs comprising a large part of Russian peasants, they were actually slaves. It is hard to imagine now but until 1861 (the year of slavery was abolished in Tsarists Russia) the owners of serfs had the power to sell them (even separating from the other members of family), often in exchange for horses and carriages or to use as bails in financial transactions and as card debts. Russian serfs were regarded as property. The ‘state peasants’ had a different status and belonged to the Crown. Sometimes they could be transferred to the property of one of Tsar’s favorite landlords and become “krepostnye krestyane”. Fortunately, neither Vassily’s nor Evdokia’s families were ever serfs. Slavery was a big shame for Russian Empire and it was the major cause why peasants (accounted over 80% of the population in Russia) actively participated in the both of Revolutions during 1917. Their memory of slavery was still fresh! 

[6] Eastern Ukraine 

[7] I’d like to express my gratitude to the Russian Defense Ministry for their great job in digitalizing the files related to participation of Soviet citizens in the Second World War. Nowadays anyone can visit the site: http://podvignaroda.mil.ru/?#tab=navPeople_search and find information about their relatives who participated in the battles. 

Love on the Shores of India

By Galina Valiullina 

I was 15 when grand aunt Evgenia Khovanskaya died in 1975, leaving her home to my mother and me since she had no children of her own. Her younger sister was my maternal grandmother. Shortly after, I went to the house we had recently inherited, to sort things out and that was when I discovered letters and photographs of my granduncle, Ivan Dmitriev, historian and archaeologist and a close friend of Nicholas Roerich, the famous Russian painter. I also discovered India, something that was to change my life forever, in ways I could never imagine.                                      

Ivan on the extreme right

                                         
I was raised from early childhood by my paternal grandmother who was of Tartar origin. Rooted in Christian faith, my grandmother had strong ties with and great fondness for Oriental art and culture, that I imbibed. I was a year old when I had pneumonia and was given ‘streptomycin,’ a drug which has been banned in recent times. This very strong medicine, impaired my hearing forever. I grew up, getting used to this disability. I figured that if I were deprived of hearing surely could I use my eyes and hands more creatively. After graduating from Art School in 1980, I chose to enter the Moscow State Art Institute where I studied in the class of Professor D.K.Mochalsky for the next 6 years. In 1986, having secured a Diploma I joined the painters’ workshop of the Art Fund of USSR as a practising artist. 
                                           

Nikolai Roerich on the left 

All through these years of study and training, my first encounter with my great granduncle, his photographs of India and the artefacts he brought back, kept tugging at me. Ivan Dmitriev had married Evgenia Khovanskaya, a famous actress of the renowned Russian Art Theatre. In 1930, he accompanied Nicholas Roerich on his long travels to Tibet and then to India where the artist was to settle down. Ivan Dmitriev was the photographer who captured the scenes and sketches that the artist made of their travels, for future reference. I found all these photographs later in the house. He returned to his family in Moscow in 1932. Within 3 days he was picked by the forces of the Stalinist state, convicted and killed. It was a long 24 years before his wife Evgenia Khovanskaya received a letter of rehabilitation from the Soviet government under Khrushchev in 1956.  He was acquitted of the crime of being an enemy of the Soviet state for which he had been wrongly executed.                  

Ivan Dmitriev’s photographs of India had completely bewitched me and I was very keen to visit that country but travelling abroad was not easy till things thawed with the change of government. In the winter of 1990, I was eventually able to make my dreams of many years come true, when a small group of us undertook the much looked forward trip to India. And events unfolded in the most magical way. 

All of us in the group had severe hearing disabilities and some of speech too. It was the Director of the Indian Cultural Centre of the Embassy in Moscow, George Joseph who made it all possible with his unstinted assistance and support. I had to visit him so often that his wife, Rani, became a great friend of mine. Both were to play critical roles in my life. We were headed for Gopalpur on Sea, a well-known tourist destination overlooking the Bay of Bengal in the eastern province of Odisha. We had put up in Oberoi, a 5-star hotel, with all its facilities and services, including that of a photographer. 

I noticed a young photographer who was assigned to take photographs of us and our different activities. He looked somewhat strange, a bit like a hippie with his long hair, hoops in his ears, beads around his neck and hands covered with bracelets. What flustered me somewhat was that I often found him staring at me. One day, while I was bathing in the sea, a large breaker crashed over me, toppling me over. Trying balance, I felt a pair of arms lifting me out of water and taking me ashore. It was the photographer. The moment was unreal; he had put his life in danger to save me. My heart skipped a beat and my feelings changed; he did not seem strange any more. We started talking. He told me his name was Sudarsan Gouda.

Sudarsan had to soon leave Gopalpur on work and as we  were due to return to Moscow;  he said he wouldn’t be there to say goodbye. He presented me with a beautiful coral necklace instead.

The coral necklace

On the day of our departure, as we boarded a bus to go to the airport, a young boy came running to tell me that someone was calling me. As I alighted the bus, I found Sudarsan standing. He had left his work so that he could meet me once before I left.

I had made several sketches of my impressions of India, but they were all lost on the way from Gopalpur to New Delhi from where we took our flight home.

Back in Moscow, Sudarsan and I began writing to one another regularly. George Joseph once again was a great help as he let us use the diplomatic bag to send and receive letters in. During the coup of August 1991, I stopped writing from fear of government reprisal. Sudarsan became very worried and send me a telegram. When I did not respond, he got in touch with George Joseph to ask for my phone number. His concern spoke of his sincerity and commitment and touched my heart deeply. We carried on corresponding till the April of 1992.

Then I became impatient and wanted to meet Sudarsan again and bring him back with me to Moscow. But I had no money. The economic turmoil that followed changes in the government made things very difficult. I sold some of my paintings to raise money, but prices had fallen, and I was only able to gather together enough to make the air fare. George Joseph was there once more. He arranged for a free visa for me to go to India. His only instruction was, ‘Don’t return without paintings and the husband.’ 

Our first photo together

I reached the city of Cuttack by train and Sudarsan was at the station to receive me with his friends. The rest was like a dream come true. His family and friends were very warm and kind to me. We became engaged and decided to marry soon. I wanted an Indian wedding but Sudarsan had some constraints. I spent two and a half months in Gopalpur living with his two families-natal and adopted. We came to Delhi with just enough money for a one-way ticket to Moscow for Sudarsan. We still needed to get a visa for him. The kind official at the Russian Embassy heard our story and he too offered a free visa with a warning to Sudarsan that he would find it difficult in Moscow if he didn’t know Russian.

In Delhi with my friend, Sonia

                                                                         
We were married on the 30th of October, 1992 and have never looked back. I believe it was our fates to meet and make a life together with love and mutual respect and support.

With Rani and George after the wedding

With Sudarsan’s complete dedication to our marriage I have been able to indulge in my own creative dreams. I loved to design beautiful clothes. In 2006, I graduated from the School of Fashion Textile Design and now I am both a painter and a textile designer. I also design costumes for the theater, especially Tartar.

The Lighthouse at Gopalpur

A Scene from Gopalpur

I am also a member of Creative Artists Union of Russia and International Art Fund. I paint, I stitch, I knit, and I dance to express the deep happiness and fulfillment of my life that I owe to our love and togetherness.

The Russian Dream

By Sudarsan Gouda 

From the moment I saw Galia in the midst of a small group of Russians in Hotel Oberoi in Gopalpur, I knew she was special. She held me totally rivetted. I kept coming back to the hotel looking for this young beautiful girl who had blown my senses away. I found every opportunity to speak to her. I was thrilled when she reciprocated, and we began talking and getting to know one another. I had no problems communicating with her, despite her hearing impairment. I simply had to look at her and talk. She would read my lips. 

My family in Gopalpur is very modest, my father was retired clerk and our home made of mud and straw. I was raised by another couple who ran a small hotel in Gopalpur, nothing big or plush. Galina’s presence was a sparkle of sunshine in my life. 

In June 1992, I received a telegram that I was to reach Cuttack station where Galina was arriving in a few days. I was shocked but equally ecstatic. It seemed too good to be true, and yet it was true. My immediate challenge was that I did not have enough money to go to Cuttack from Gopalpur. My friends and family gathered around me and lent me money. I met Galina at the station. The first thing she said was: ‘I have come back for you. You must return with me to Moscow.’ Our fates were sealed.

Galina and I in Moscow 

My parents were not opposed to our marriage even though they were worried about us being from two completely different cultures. My problem was that we couldn’t marry in Gopalpur because my two older brothers and my sister were still unwed. It is customary in our part of the world that siblings marry in the order of their respective ages. 

Galina lived with my family for more than two months in the scorching heat of Odisha summer. There was no running water which had to be fetched from a distance and there were no chairs in the house; we sat and ate on the floor. The toilets were nothing like she was used to in Russia. But there was not a word of complaint from Galina.

Our beautiful home

In Moscow, she brought me to a place that to my rural Indian eyes, looked like a hotel. ‘I don’t want to stay in a hotel,’ I said. ‘This is my apartment,’ Galia replied. At the front entrance, she made me take the first step into the beautifully decorated apartment in the heart of the city. We continue to live in the same place. 

I thank God every day for bringing us together. It was our ‘karma’ to meet and be together. I feel truly blessed. 

Galina Valiullina and Sudarsan Gouda live in Moscow 

Her website has more on her work: http://valiullina-galina.ru

Our Old School

By Rasha Lulua 

                                   

I can remember Grantchester Road in Cambridge where I lived for under a year when I was 6 going on 7; I remember the flowers and the grass, and the ponies and the fields. But most importantly, I remember the school.     

At first, we went to St Paul’s in Cambridge, my brother and I, but they were too strict about food. They wouldn’t let my brother play football unless he ate his Brussel sprouts! 

That won’t do, my Dad said, so he went off to look for another school to move us to, and there it was, this magnificent school, The Church of England, Granchester School. Every morning my Dad took us down the country winding lane to Grantchester and every evening he picked us up.

The school was like a beehive and we loved going there. There were only three teachers, one KS1 and one KS2 who was the head, and one music teacher.    
                                                                                                    

My brother Bashar and I

Every Friday we went to the village church and sang; I loved singing and had no idea what my religion was! When I was asked if I was Christian, I just said yes. Muslim and Christian both sounded the same to me. 

One day, my father came early and found me coming back with the rest of the children from the church. He asked me why I went, and I told him. Then he asked me if I knew I was Muslim, and I said, no, and I don’t care, I just want to sing. He laughed and said ok, you go ahead.

I loved reading too. I was only supposed to take two books home to read at the weekend, but I wanted more, and when the head teacher was asked if that would be ok, she said of course. I took 4 books home every weekend and couldn’t wait to get home to drop onto the carpet in the living room and start reading, while inhaling the aroma of my gorgeous Mum's cooking.

We had a pretend vegetable and fruit stall and pretend money to learn how to do maths and we went out for walks to learn about wildlife and plants; we had one day when we went swimming and one day when it was story time. I loved making short cookies, I loved playing in the fields in front of our house and I loved going to visit the ponies at the top of our road. They are gone now, and some allotments are there instead…I loved being in the Brownies. 

We went back to Baghdad and I loved my school there too, but that childhood year in Grantchester was always more vivid in my mind than the years that followed in Iraq. I had it in my mind that one day I would come back.           

Bashar and I as grown ups

Years went by and I finished my studies in Vienna and lo and behold, I married an English man! I moved to the north of England with him, but I made sure that I went to Grantchester  at the first opportunity I got.  

I cried when I found the school and saw that it was turned into a private home. I met some lovely ladies in the church who pointed me towards a lady who had been in charge of the village gazette; I visited her at her lovely home and she welcomed me and remembered me as her girls went to school with us at the time. The lady told me all about what happened with the school about a year after we left…. 
                                                      
Years went by and I had a daughter and left my husband and went back to stay with my parents, first in Jordan, then in Dubai. 

My daughter Fairouz and I

I started planning my return once more! 
We would either go to Vienna where I spent the best years of my adult life or to Cambridge. 

We finally decided on Cambridge and here we are again. 

It’s fantastic and I love it….

Rasha Lulua a piano teacher lives in Caldecote, Cambridge

Her website is www.piano-101.com