At the age of eighteen, just before the outbreak of the second world war, my father left his village home in the Ukraine to study agronomy at a Moscow agricultural institute. He was doing well and spoke with pride about his achievements, about his hopes and dreams for the future he might have had. But it was not to be. Despite the non-aggression pact signed by Hitler and Stalin in 1939 a nervous Soviet military knew full well war was coming; On June 22 1941 the Germans launched operation Barbarossa against the Soviet Union with 4,500,000 axis soldiers on a front from the Baltic to the Black Sea. Twenty million souls were to be torn from their bodies by the time the Nazis were beaten back, kilometre by bloody kilometre, and defeated. Father and thousands like him were conscripted from universities and colleges, he was trained as a junior officer then sent to fight on the north west front. Starvation and survival were to become his two constant companions in the midst of a savage,...
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