Page Six

aw feb ia) 1D) 16) Pekan

Symbol of Soviet Stalingrad

TALINGRAD is a sight once seen never to be forgotten.

Many years hence, when w and pronounce the word ‘Sayles The Germans have besieged the city. “Stalingrad” here, one does not infer the

rise before our eyes. But when one talks of

centre of the city, nor its outskirts for

e shall begin to recall the past

it will be Stalingrad that will

that matter. This word

covers the 65 kilometer stretch along the Volga, the whole city with its suburbs, factory sites, workers’ settlements.

The Volga at Stalingrad is not the Volga we are wont to know. Today this river is the scene of war. Gaping craters scar its banks. Dropped bombs send up heavy swirling columns of water. Heavily loaded ferryboats and light vessels move across it towards the beleaguered city.

The din of battle echoes over it and on its dark water the blood- stained bandages of the wounded stand out distinctly. Houses are blazing in different parts of the city, and at night the glow cast by the conflagration lights up the whole horizon. Day and night the roar of exploding bombs and the artillery cannonade are incessant.

There is no such thing as a sate spot in the city today. But this no longer bothers people grown ac- customed to the absence of safety. The city is in flames. Many of its streets no longer exist and others are furrowed with craters caused by aerial bombs.

The women and children who re- main in the city take shelter in basements, dig caves in the ravines leading to the Volga. The streets are strewn with the wreckage of downed bombers. Anti-aircraft shells whiz overhead, but the bomb- ing continues without letup.

Yes, it is difficult to live here, where the sky is ablaze and the ground rocks. The charred bodies of women and children, burned by the Germans on one of the steam- ers, lie on the Volga beach and cry out for revenge.

e VENZNG found us on the city’s outskirts. Ahead stretched the battlefields — smoking mounds, burning streets. As is always the case in the south, darkness des- ecended rapidly- German signal flares shot across the sky. But night brought no relief. The air hummed with the drone of motors, as time after time the German bombers dropped their load upon

the city behind us.

I crossed the Volga on a ferry, seated next to a 20-year-old Uk- rainian girl, an army doctor’s as- sistant. This was her fourth or fifth trip to Stalingrad.

“This is not my first trip here,” the girl spoke up suddenly, as the ferry drew closer to the Stalin- grad bank. “Yet every time I am a bit afraid to land. I was wounded twice, once quite~seriously but I never believed that I would die, for I had seen so little of life as yet.”

Her wide open eyes were sad. I understood what she felt—at the age of 20 to be twice wounded, to have spent 15 months at war, and to make a fifth trip to Stalingrad.

Fifteen minutes more would again see her making her way through blazing houses, amid the ruins of some of the side streets on the out- skirts, heedless of shell fragments, bending down to pick up the “wounded and to take them to safety.

Se HE headquarters and communi- eations centre is buried deep underground. This is the brain of the defense and must not be ex- posed to any danger. Faces are ashen gray, eyes are feverish from lack of sleep. I tried to light a cigarette, but one after another the

matches were rapidly extinguished,

for there is little oxygen underground premises. The day breaks, and the sky over- head pales into a blue square The bridge headquarters is situated in an unfinished factory building. The street leading north in the direction

m- the

of the German lines is under con- stant trench mortar fire.

In the place where at one time a militia man probably stood di- recting the traffic, a tommy-gunner now stands under cover of a wrecked wall, pointing in the direc- tion where the street slopes down so that people can pass unnoticed by the Germans and without be- trayinge the location of the head- quarters,

Qne hour ago a tommy-gunner was killed at this spot. Another one replaced him and is now standing at this dangerous post, continuing to direct the “street traffic”

by CONSTANTIN SIMONOV

The morning gradually brightens into full daylight, and the sun indi- eates that noon is nigh. Seated in a comfortable, soft arm chair (the observation post is located in a well- furnished fifth tloor apartment) I have a good vantage point.

There are German automobiles moving past the building at the ex- treme end of the settlement; a motorcyclist dashes by; German in- fantrymen walk past, Mines burst, and one car comes to a standstill in the middle of the street.

@

WE more day, one more night

have gone by. The streets are even more deserted, but the city’s pulse throbs. We pull up at a fac- tory gate. Armed worker volun- teers, in coats of jJeather and jackets with belts, resembling the Red Guardsmen of 1918, carefully in- spect our documents. We descend to one of the subterranean prem- ises.

All those who remained to guard the factory premises and shops—the director, the men on duty, firefighters, workers, guards —all are at their posts. There are no ordinary inhabitants in the city today—they are all defenders. What does it matter that ma- chines are evacuated, the shop will always remain. And the old workers who spent the best part of their lives there have remained

TOM BINNIE

(Iwo Miles South NEW WESTM

ah A pede bn baba bn bole oh bre OO OOOOOSSO0FO9F9O6 9 BOO SOS SSOP I VIVO CV ITV VY V VV VV VV YY

> A

y

Greetings and Best Wishes from

TOM BINNIE

1574 Pacific Highway, R.R. 4

it

to guard them to the end.

The director told us how a few days ago German tanks pierced the defenses in one place and headed | for the plant. The news of this reached the plant. The director summoned the repair shop superin- tendent and ordered him to speed the work on the few tank repairs | seems almost hopeless. which were nearing completion. Early in the morning the German And the men, who with their own air umbrella again descended on the hands repaired the tanks, became | city. One after another the bomb-

nests. instead of the bustling streets of a lively city. But every- where there is the confident smile and the unwavering hand of the soldier in a city where every man and every women is a soldier. That is why the city holds out, fighting even when the situation

bursting anti-aireraft shells lent if the sky the appearance of the ski-

of some grayish-blue beast. Wii a howling sound, the fighte)

circled overhead, where a violei

pattle continued without a mt: ment’s respite. |

The city is fighting at all cos) and if the cost is very high, the e'

ploits of the people grim, their su | fering unmatched, there is nothir//

to be done, for this is a life-ant”

settlement changed their appear- ance that day. Barricades appeared on the streets leading towards the ditch. As in the years of civil war, the wives carried cartridges to their husbands, and girl workers went Tel. MArine 5746

tankmen in the moment of ®m- ers dived, dropping their loads. Ta |death combat. a t ergency. The outskirts of the workers’ | GREETINGS from

JOHN STANTON

Barrister, Solicitor, Notary 503 HOLDEN BLDG., 16 East Hastings

VANCOUVER, B.C.

Dem pui lu ire Miser? tr ee Ss AG

straight from their shops to ad- |} = vaneed positions, bandaging the

wounded and carrying them to safety. Many perished that day, but armed workers and Red Army mer held the Germans at bay until dark ness fell and reinforcements ar- rived. e

SHALi never forget the sight.

The long ditch, stretching far to the right and the left, hums with life, like an ant heap all honey- combed with lives. The veritable streets are dug underground. Caves are covered with boards, rags—the women brought everything they could lay hands on to protect their nests from the rain and wind.

It is hard to find appropriate words to describe the feeling of bitterness that grips one at the

GREETINGS from The Housewives’ League of British Columbia ©

: May the Voice of : The PEOPLE Ring Out for SPEEDY VICTORY !

sight of the sorrowful human be

of REAL ESTATE

DISTRICT TRADES of Pattullo Bridge)

INSTER, B.C.

SPENCER’S .

DEPARTMENT STORE

is on the

WE DO NOT PATRONIZE LIST

the

VANCOUVER, NEW WESTMINSTER AND

& LABOR COUNCIL

Issued by Retail Clerks’ Unien — Local 279