Narach, Belarus. The Great Patriotic War

          In May 2012 I made a trip by road to see a friend who lives in Minsk. It had been some sixteen years since I last saw Valentina when she had been an interpreter for a group of Belarusian children who had been affected by the Chernobyl disaster in 1986. Since that trip we had written e mails regularly and eagerly suggested I stay in her apartment in Minsk during my trip to her country. It was a busy time during my stay in Minsk, but very very enjoyable. I saw things and met people ordinary tourists would never see.

            I've written a little before about the trip to Khatyn but this one is a day trip to a different place.  We set off from Minsk on a beautiful May day, the 9th May to be exact. Valentina had suggested this particular day as it was the annual Victory Day parade, and the city centre would be crammed full of people, so a good idea to get out into the country. All over Russia and some of its former satellites the day is revered in the memory of those who served and died in the armed forces during the Great Patriotic War (1941-1945).

             Valentina and myself were in the front seats of the car, and two young students of hers and her son were squashed together in the back seat. As time went on it became obvious that 15 year old Yura in the middle of the back seat was in imminent danger of being crushed by the two female students he was wedged between. Ah well, it's all part of growing up! A memory he will look back on in years to come with affection.

            The place we went to is called Narach and lies in what is called the Lake District, due to the large number of lakes and forests. It is a beautiful place. On the way there we stopped to take obligatory photographs of places of interest, in particular a church on a hill. Don't know what it is called or exactly where it is, but I think you will agree, it is stunning. Here's a photo of the church together with the two students, Katya and Svetlana; oh yes, and Yura.

            The first stop in the small town, which lies by the side of a large lake, was the town's Folk Museum. Considering the size of the place, which was not very big, it contained an amazing variety of ancient and fairly recent artefacts sound in the surrounding areas.  Several things which struck me as we wandered around the place was the number and variety of things relating to the partisans from the area who fought in the war. As I have had an interest in the history of the war and the USSR in general, I was particularly interested in what the museum had on display.

            At one point I whispered to Valentina that the museum seemed particularly quiet for a public holiday. She equally quietly whispered back that it was normally closed, but she had persuaded the museum director and her staff to open the place up for me as I would not have the opportunity to visit again. I was astounded, and not a little impressed. In fact I was overwhelmed to think that the director and two of her staff had come in to open up the museum on thief holiday simply to give me a tour around the place. I started to take more notice.

            As we walked around Valentina and I had a whispered conversation about how she had managed to persuade her to open up the place. I blushed when she told me the reason she had given. I won't repeat it here. I am too embarrassed.

            On leaving the quiet interior of the museum and walking out into the bright sunlight once more I made profuse thanks to the kind lady and her staff and started to walk away back to the car. Valentina called me back. Apparently the director had also arranged for us to meet a local history guide who was going to now take us into the forest nearby. The man duly arrived and after introductions had been made he drove off in his car with us behind, for a twenty minute into a large fir forest close to the town. We bumped along unmade forest tracks until we came to a clearing with a red monument in the middle.  The fir trees soared high above and around us. Sunlight streamed through the tree tops and lit glades and hollows all about. 

Memorial to the Partisans

            I noticed two dug outs built down into the side of gentle low lying areas of the open spaces. They were constructed of wooden logs and roofed with turf. It was explained to me via Valentina that this area was not open to tourists or the public, but again, at the request of the director of the museum, we had been permitted to make this visit.

            The area, during the Great Patriotic War, had been a small encampment constructed by the partisans who then went out into the countryside to attack the invading Nazis. The monument was to the memory of those who had died. Inside the grim little huts were reconstructions of the living quarters, on the walls copies of news bulletins and instructions published in the war.

              Outside the hut was a grey slate plaque mounted on wood.

It reads,  

The dugout was the headquarters of Vilejka Regional Committee of the Leninist Communist Union of Youth of Belarus (OK LKSMB)
Secretary: Pyotr Mironovich  Masherov)
(September 1943 to July 1944) 

            All in all, it was a very memorable place to visit, and as it was on the national holiday to commemorate the war dead, I felt particularly privileged.