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Anatoly Kibrik, full unedited interview, 2007

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ENGLISH TRANSLATION 2 CITATION & RIGHTS 12

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Anatoly Kibrik, full unedited interview, 2007

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ITEM TYPE VIDEO ORIGINAL LANGUAGE RUSSIAN

TRANSCRIPT ENGLISH TRANSLATION —Today is December 2007. We are in California, in the city of Palo Alto, meeting with a veteran of the Great Patriotic War. Please, introduce yourself, tell us what your childhood was like, where you studied, in which family you grew up, how you ended up in the army, and how you spent the war years? Please proceed.

My name is Anatoly Kibrik. I was born on May 10, 1924 in Kiev [Kyiv]. When I turned two, my family relocated to Moscow. I was born in a Jewish family. My maternal grandfather was an official rabbi. In Moscow, Father worked in the industrial cooperation system as the commercial director of a factory. I went to school no. 284 in Rostokinsky and then Shcherbakovsky district of Moscow. About 70% of the pupils in our class were Jewish. Everyone went to the front, and only two survived. The rest perished.

On June 21, 1941 we had a graduation ball. I kissed a girl for the first time. We wandered the streets of Moscow at night, and that’s when I had my first kiss. And in the morning the war was declared. Father volunteered in the early days, as soon as the people’s militia began to form. Father volunteered for the militia division of the Kirovsky district of Moscow and died in October near Moscow. Unlike me, Father was completely unprepared for war. He was a sickly man, he had never before handled weapons, except for the toy pistols that he gifted me. My brother was a pilot. From the first days of the war, he also flew to the front. He was shot down near Stalingrad [Volgograd], but survived. He was a disabled veteran and after the war devoted his life to agriculture: he worked as a director of a state farm.

I got a job. We had an ammunition plant near our house. I got a job there as an apprentice worker and then as a press worker. I was seventeen. Then the plant evacuated to Cheboksary, the Chuvash Republic. I worked there until January 1942. I itched to go to the front. I was seventeen and had a worker’s exemption, so they wouldn’t take me. But I really wanted to go to the front. I left the factory, went to work in an evacuated tobacco factory, worked there for two weeks, and was drafted as a volunteer. I was well-built, physically fit, and a good shot: we had a solid paramilitary training at school. So, I went to the front.

I got to the Leningrad Front. I fought with the Leningrad and then 2nd Baltic Fronts. Of the war days, several events are especially memorable to me. First, the seven days from January 12 to January 17 of 1943, when the [St. Petersburg] was broken. The Siege was a terrible thing, of course. For 900 days, Leningraders were surrounded by the enemy. As young, healthy, strong guys—I was already a seasoned fighter by then—we were selected for assault units. I ended up a commander of a rifle squad. For about ten days before the battle, we were trained to cross the Neva. The steep bank of the Neva was under constant fire from the German side, who had dug in properly. This is the area of Sinyavino heights, the Sinyavino swamps were located there. The Germans had made solid preparations. Their best divisions defended the area and they were sure that it would be impossible to break the blockade. Colonel-General

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Anatoly Kibrik, full unedited interview, 2007

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Govorov had just been appointed commander of the Front. He was a former officer of the Russian General Staff, slender and fit. He was very different from the bandit-generals, like Mokashov, who . . .

Do you remember how in 2001 or 2002, when the Supreme Soviet was assaulted, Mokashov, his face distorted by hatred, led people into attack . . . He was also Colonel General. Govorov was a slender, tall, fit officer. I remember now how he said: “Sonnies, take care of yourselves". We had never been talked to like that. We were trained, given ladders, pike poles, and gripping hooks. Just like when Suvorov stormed Izmail. That’s how they presented it in the press. On January 12, at six in the morning, if memory serves me well, a powerful artillery barrage commenced. At first, there was a “Katyusha” volley, followed by thousands from guns of all calibers, including the heavy artillery of the Red Banner Baltic Fleet, which brought down the terrible firepower on the German positions. Everything was ablaze. After the artillery preparation, we rushed in. The assault units went first. It was us. Behind us moved the infantry and the artillery. We broke into German trenches. We easily took the forwardmost trenches, because the surviving Germans were completely stunned, having lost their bearing. In subsequent trenches, the Germans began to come to their senses and fire back. And then, for the first time, I participated in close-quarters combat. I was a hardened soldier, had been wounded once before, but I had never took part in a hand-to-hand fight. It was my first time. We fought . . . I fought with the butt of a submachine gun, others used sapper spades, whatever they could get their hands on. I don’t remember exactly, but in that battle I killed at least ten Germans.

I recall each day: the 12th, 13th, 14th, I remember when the Germans launched a counterattack, I remember everything. On the 20th we, the Leningrad Front, met up with the soldiers of the Front, and thus the blockade of Leningrad was broken. Leningrad rejoiced. We got to visit Leningrad those days and saw thousands of corpses strewing the city’s streets, floating in the Neva. It was a horrific picture, of course. Leningraders and the whole country expected from us . . . I had participated in many battles but nothing had come close to that battle, to its heat and ferocity. That is why I remember everything by the day. I was decorated for this battle. The Order of Glory for soldiers and the Order of Victory for commanders had just been created. I was decorated with the Order of Glory 3rd Class for breaking the Siege. These battles I remember well.

And before that . . . All Leningraders know what Nevskaya Dubrovka, Nevsky Pyatachok [Neva Bridgehead] is. There, on a small piece of shore of six square kilometers, if my memory serves me right, we fought for a foothold on the right side of the Neva where the Germans were deployed. A division would be thrown over there every three days. The division consists of twelve thousand men, and only 200-300 people would come back—the rest remained there forever. Perhaps it had its strategic significance. It’s hard for me to understand, but I guess it was necessary. I got a chance to fight there once.

I especially remember the battles for Libava [Liepaja]. This was Latvia, already in the last months of the war,

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Anatoly Kibrik, full unedited interview, 2007

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ITEM TYPE VIDEO ORIGINAL LANGUAGE RUSSIAN the last six months. All the German, all the Nazi scum had assembled there: the SS, the Spanish “Blue Division”, the Hungarian Division, the Finnish Division as well as the Latvian SS Division, the Lithuanian SS Division, the Estonian SS Division. All that filth! Throughout the war, I hadn’t encountered such resistance. Ostensibly, all the Nazi filth had accumulated there. It was there when I first learned how the Jews as a nation had been exterminated. Before then, we were unaware, and there I first found out, because there were a lot of camps in Latvia.

We later found out that many Jews had escaped to Latvia from all over Europe. In Latvia, Jews were annihilated by Latvians and Lithuanians, and Estonians; even the Germans killed fewer people compared to these great “democrats”. . . When I went on business trips to these republics after the war, I was wary about these places, because I had seen many people there who had been engaged in this dirty work.

—Was it 1944?

The end of 1944 beginning of 1945. The fighting was terrible there. The end of the war was near, but it didn’t feel like it. In Libava I was wounded for the third time and ended up in the hospital.

After discharge I was sent for further education as someone who had graduated highschool with very good grades: I had top grades, except for two C’s in drawing and music appreciation—God has denied me the ability to do either. I was admitted to the Red Army’s Institute of Foreign Languages, which produced highly qualified interpreters.

—Where was the institute located?

In Moscow. VIYAKA. The provost was Lieutenant General Biyazi, an illustrious Soviet spy in Germany. It was a very prestigious institute. I encountered a few Jews there at the time. I got to the Faculty of Afghan studies. But since I am tone-deaf, I don’t have an ear for music, I found it difficult to learn the language. In the first year everything was fine with general subjects. So I did well. And from the second year, we got an instructor for each student. The one-to-one instruction—that’s how they taught us. And when I had to learn English and Afghan, I grew anxious. I was tired of the army. At the time, the Decree of the Presidium of the Supreme Council came out allowing the demobilization of servicemen with three or more injuries. With some difficulty, I was discharged from the army, and thus ended my military life.

After the war, I lived with my mother because Father had been killed. In 1950 I got married, graduated from the All-Union Correspondence Law Institute and with my law degree got a job in a construction organization. I eventually made it all the way to the managing position of a construction company in Moscow. It was difficult without specialized education, so I enrolled in the evening courses in construction. I finished them, as well. Until recently, I worked as deputy head of the All-Union Association. My last post

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ITEM TYPE VIDEO ORIGINAL LANGUAGE RUSSIAN before leaving for America was the vice-rector of the Modern University of Humanities, the largest university. At the moment, eighty thousand students study there. The biggest university in the country and in the countries of people's democracy. Being a military man, though I remained in the rank of senior sergeant, I created a special faculty there, which offered professional training for demobilizing officers, so that they would not become criminals but bankers, managers, economists, accountants. We collaborated with all the military ministries—the Ministry of Defense, the Ministry of Internal Affairs, the KGB, Prosecutor's Office, Customs Services. We had entrance exams and offered tuition waivers. Before leaving, I had managed to retrain . . . The Faculty was my responsibility, and we retrained more than a thousand people. In 1996, I emigrated here. My daughter and grad-daughter lived here. I was a member of the Soviet Committee of Jewish War Veterans.

I came here to visit my daughter and kept in touch with veteran organizations in San Francisco. For a number of reasons, we didn’t achieve much. I am very grateful to this country.

—Let's return to the breaking of the Blockade. There were so many losses . . . Did you take any Germans prisoner or did you kill them?

Let me tell you . . . As a rule, we killed them. But already on the fifth or seventh day we received an order to take as many prisoners as we could, not to kill them. Naturally, at first, it was impossible to stop us, because there was so much hatred towards the enemy, it was impossible to prevent it. And later on, we took them prisoner. I served in rifle divisions. My division, where I served the longest, was the 268th Mginskaya Red Banner Rifle Division. It was like a family to me, I really loved everyone there, and we would often meet after the war. In this division, I served in infantry units. About for a year and a half I served in the divisional reconnaissance team as assistant squad commander of the divisional reconnaissance. After the second injury, I was in the artillery reconnaissance. We adjusted fire for 76 mm guns and 122 mm howitzers. When I was in the reconnaissance team, I naturally captured some Germans.

But I have to point out that the Germans of 1942 were very different from the Germans of 1943/44. In 1942 they were inveterate bandits; in 1944 all the arrogance had been knocked out of them: they would immediately cry "Hitler kaput”. They also realized that Germany was going to be defeated.

—But in 1944, you probably already knew about the murder of Jews, about entire villages, and not only Jewish, razed to the ground . . .

I wasn’t very bloodthirsty. The Jewish theme was not raised then. Such was the propaganda in the Soviet Army that these issues were not covered at all. I found out in Libava . . . On the Leningrad Front, in contrast to the black-earth region, we had battles of local significance. These were very fierce battles. The Germans burned everything. For instance, we liberated the city of Pushkin. I presented you with the book “As

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Civilians Put on Overcoats” by Stepan Bondin. Lenizdat published the book, and it has a few pages about me. The group which I commanded was the first to break into the city of Pushkin. Only ruins remained of this museum-town, nothing was left standing. I went there after the war, and was received at the highest level, of course. Back in the day, though, there was nothing there at all except broken bricks. I remember liberating in 1942. Just ruins. Apparently, there had never been such wars before. But there was no distinguishing by nationality at the time. We saw that the Germans were awful, not human.

—Were there only German units on the Leningrad Front, or the Finnish ones as well?

As I said, my division fought against the Finns. By the way, the Finns are magnificent warriors. Their snipers killed many of our guys. We fought the Finns on the Mannerheim Line. We fought the Spanish Blue Division. They were drunk as lords, but we wiped them out. The Magyars, the Hungarian division, were terrible beasts, same as the Germans. And in Libava we faced the Latvian, Lithuanian, and Estonian SS. They were all the SS.

—You served in the assault unit.

Yes, I was in the assault forces.

—Throughout the war?

No, no. For about three or four months, as we prepared for the breaking of the Siege and two or three months at the final stage of the liberation of Leningrad. This was in 1944. In the meantime, I served in rifle units and the artillery intelligence.

—Were you specially trained in the assault forces?

Firstly, they selected physically strong guys. There were a lot of guys from the Baltic Fleet. After all, the fleet was locked in. It was painful for them, the sailors who had been in the navy for ten-fifteen years, to serve on land. A lot of sailors ended up in our division. So the assault groups were made of sailors, highschool graduates, and athletes. Before the war, from the seventh to the tenth grade, I trained in the Soviet Wings society. It used to be called the French wrestling, now it is called the “classic” [Greco-Roman] wrestling. So, I was prepared. When I first participated in hand-to-hand combat, I was prepared. Unlike my dad, I was ready. The assault forces were all tough guys, physically and morally. I did not know a single case of disloyalty. We were trained in the assault forces, in reconnaissance, never to leave the dead or wounded behind. We dragged them back. We left no one behind in the German territory. It was a sacred thing, our duty.

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—And when did the penal battalions appear?

Penal battalions . . . During the break of the Siege, we fought next to a penal battalion. Of course, it was difficult to look at them . . . Actually, we played the same role. They all dreamed of getting wounded, because after injury, as a rule, they were released and joined regular forces as normal servicemen, restored to their rank and military decoration. But the vast majority, of course, perished, because they were sent like cannon fodder to determine . . . Artillery scouts spotted enemy firing positions as the penal battalion was attacking. The Germans would fire at this battalion from all their guns, and the scouts spotted their firing positions. Penal battalions had a raw deal. Life was very hard. War is war.

—You were deployed around Leningrad. There was famine in the city. How were you fed?

We were fed very poorly, but better than Leningraders. When Leningraders had a minimum daily ration of 125 grams of bread, 90% of which was not bread at all, we had 300-350 grams of bread. We even got something extra. We received two pieces of sugar a day and some slop twice a day consisting of boiled water and three crumbs chasing one another in it. So, there was a constant feeling of hunger. Hospital food was very bad. Having sustained a wound, I was brought to the hospital on Vasilievsky Island. I am ashamed to confess that we had to sift through garbage pits, looking for food—we were so hungry. Not a single cat, not a single dog remained in the city—they had all been eaten. The feeling of hunger is a terrible thing. Still, as far as I know, not a single person in the army died of starvation. There were emaciated servicemen, of course. We were all big guys, especially the sailors—and I was, too—so we were constantly hungry. But we pulled through. The feeling of patriotism was great at that time.

—In such terrible conditions—cold, hunger—did people get sick?

Amazingly, no. Perhaps there is a scientific explanation. Especially since our division had been through a lot. It used to be called “waterproof”. Sinyavinsky swamps . . . , Sinyavino. The city of Mga was flanked by Sinyavinsky swamps. Our division was called “Mginskaya”. We’d get sucked in up to here in those swamps. But we kept our spirits up . . . For four-five years after the war, I was still in good shape, and then my health began to falter: teeth, hair . . .

—Were there people of different nationalities in the assault troops?

Yes, of different nationalities. I later recalled . . . I encountered the nationality problem already here. There were people with Jewish last names, with typical Jewish names, there was no mistaking them. I came across people with Caucasian last names. We had a very good Kazakh scout from Kazakhstan. There were different nationalities.

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I’d like to tell you an interesting story. When we would go into battle, we would write: “If I don’t return, I ask you to consider me a fallen communist”. It was a template. I wrote such a statement, too. I survived and was accepted into the Party. There was no discussion or voting. We were lying in the trenches: soldiers, sergeants. A political instructor from the political department of the division crawled up to hand me a party card and a member’s record card. He crawled up, looked around, and shouted: "Quickly, quickly." They were not used to being in the trenches as we were. I read the card, “Kibrik, Anatoly Mikhailovich. Ethnic origin: Russian." I said, “There’s been a mistake, I am Jewish”. He swore at me, “What’s wrong with you? Sign here”. I said, “I'm Jewish. You have to correct this, or I won’t sign”. He looked at me as if I were crazy: “What the . . .” Long story short, I told him I wouldn’t sign unless he corrected the mistake. He swore at me, I returned the favor, he crossed out “Russian”, wrote “Jewish”, and added "as amended”. In peacetime, my personal record ended up in the district party committee. They called me to the records office: “Why was your ethnicity changed? It would be understandable if it were the other way around, but not from “Russian” to “Jewish”. This has never happened before”. I replied that my dad was Jewish, my grandmother was Jewish, my grandfather was Jewish . . . I couldn’t lie, I had no right to lie.

—But in the army, did you notice any manifestations of anti-Semitism?

In the army, almost never. Before 1945 there was no question of anti-Semitism in the army. We had one task—to fight. To be honest, the only thing we felt was the deportation of the peoples of the Caucasus. I don’t remember what year it was. We had a Karachai, a wonderful guy. We were in the reconnaissance together. He had brought at least twenty prisoners for interrogation. Like me, he had three medals “For Courage”. One day, an order came to send away all the Karachais. It was a tragedy for us. We couldn’t get our heads around it. It was deportation . . . We couldn’t understand anything. To his credit, our division commander, then Colonel Sokolov—alas, he was killed later—attended to the matter and changed his ethnicity. They gave him another ethnicity and thus kept this guy. This was the first time I became aware of the nationalities question.

—You have three medals “For Courage”.

Yes.

—This is very rare.

Rare, yes. We soldiers didn’t have a big choice of decorations . . .

—It is rare . . .

Yes, it is rare. I met one other in our division.

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—Each medal "For Courage" is associated with some episode?

Yes, certainly. I got one medal—you’ll read about it in the book—for liberating Pushkin. Fighting was heavy there. I got the third medal “For Courage” already for Libava. There was heavy fighting there, too, very heavy. Our losses were great, but the other side suffered enormous losses.

—How were you awarded the medals “For Courage”?

One medal was awarded at the army headquarters, and two other medals were given to me by the head of the political department of the division.

—During the heavy fighting in Libava—attacks, counterattacks— . . .

Yes. Constantly.

—There were wounded, our wounded. But what about the German wounded?

Already in 1944-1945, despite the hatred for the enemy, the feeling was different from the one we experienced during the siege of Leningrad. Many wounded Germans were transferred to hospitals and medical battalions. I never witnessed a German wounded being finished off. Not a single case. In general, we did not finish off the wounded. We killed the living . . . in hand-to-hand combat. It was the case of him or me. And the wounded? I would never have allowed myself, and my fellow soldiers . . . I have not come across such cases . . .

—Did you write letters during the war?

I wrote to mom. I was worried for my mother. She was left completely alone. She had three men, and all three went to the front. She was left on her own and she had never worked. A Jewish mother, she was amazing. Mom was very beautiful. She died at the age of eighty-five. Not a single day goes by without me thinking about my mother. All mothers . . . but my mother seemed very special to me. I have never known the kind of love she had for me, my brother, and Father. Mom lived with me all her life. I wrote letters. Since I was fighting all the time, I could not write every day, so I would write twenty to thirty letters, and Mother would reply: “Sonny, the post service is terrible in wartime, I get twenty letters at once”. She kept them all. For about two or three months I couldn’t write, didn’t have time. So mom wrote to the unit, and the unit commander replied to her. I have a copy of the letter: he wrote that her son was such a great guy, that he beat the Germans hard, and so on. So, I corresponded with my mother. And with a girl, but that ended quickly. She was the one I kissed.

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—Many years have passed, and a lot of things are becoming a thing of the past, even the most difficult ones. And we change, as well. Do you ever feel that today you look at many events that happened in your youth, from a completely different perspective.

Some events, yes. I often dwell on things, both pleasant and unpleasant. The pleasant ones are school years, the graduation ball, my friends . . . And the horrible ones, of course, are war-related memories. In 1942-43, I was 99.9% convinced that I would not survive—people got killed left and right. But in 1944, I really wanted to stay alive, because I already had an incentive to live.

—You were never on the German territory?

No. I was wounded a third time in Libava, then a hospital, followed by schooling, and demobilization.

—You mentioned that only two people from your class returned.

Yes, indeed. Only two out of all the boys. Yasha Khromchenko had a difficult life. He left for Israel. He was a poet, a famous Israeli poet. He was a good poet, an altogether great guy. He also volunteered for the front and was immediately sent to an artillery school in Tashkent. He operated a 45 mm gun, that’s in the line of fire. They were all doomed. And in the first battle in 1942 Yashka had his leg shattered. He went to the hospital. A fellow student visited him there. Yashka told a joke, a very good-natured joke about Stalin, Churchill, and Roosevelt. And, as was common, some snitch denounced him, and Yashka was immediately taken to Lubyanka. A trial by troika. He got ten years and served his sentence to the day. It saved him. He spent ten years in the camps and then lived in internal exile. Only after Stalin’s death, he was fully rehabilitated. He moved to Israel. We met often. He came to see me in Moscow. Curiously, he never hated the country. He’d been dealt so much pain, well, not by the country, but its leaders . . . And Yashka loved the country: not its rulers, but its history and people. Every year, he came to Moscow with his wife Julia. He died two years ago.

—Amid all that horror, people joked? Retained their sense of humor?

Most certainly. We joked, even played pranks on each other. All sorts of funny stories were played out. Even in the most difficult situations, there was humor. We had a Kazakh, his Russian wasn’t that great. We had a Ukrainian, Vovka Vysochin, he spoke with a Ukrainian accent. We would tell him some complicated words, he would translate them, and that made us laugh. We were mere boys. By the time of demobilization I was already a seasoned soldier at the age of twenty-two. We were mere children when we went to war.

—Thank you very much.

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Thank you.

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