Julia drunina biography short interesting facts. Julia Drunina and Alexey Kapler. Unofficial biography. Poems by Julia Drunina

Yulia Vladimirovna Drunina belongs to the generation of front-line poets, whose poetic development coincided with the hard times of war. The main theme of her work is poems about the Great Patriotic War. And even though Sergei Yesenin wrote at one time: “You can't see a face face to face. Great things are seen at a distance, ”Yulia Drunina was able to discern the war. Being on the front line, in the very heat, in the trenches, I visibly saw her terrible, truly “not a woman’s face” ... And she told the readers everything that she had experienced, felt and comprehended. She wrote her first poem about the war in a hospital in 1943, after being seriously wounded: a shell fragment entered the neck and got stuck near the carotid artery.

I've seen hand-to-hand combat so many times
Once - in reality. And hundreds of times - in a dream ...
Who says that war is not scary
He knows nothing about the war.

Subsequently, it was included in many anthologies of military poetry. Yulia Drunina told the story of its creation: “At the end of September, the division was in a ring ... Twenty-three people broke out of the encirclement and went into the dense Mozhaisk forests. I don’t know about the fate of others ... In three years, on a hospital bed, I will write a long, languid poem about how this breakthrough happened ... ”. As a result of painstaking work, only four of the fifty-odd lines remain in the final version.
However, not only this poem by Drunina is distinguished by its utmost brevity, brevity, which speaks of great talent. Many of her works about the war are laconic, accurate and succinct. By the intensity of feelings, by the depth of thoughts and feelings, they are not inferior to the above. Here, every poem is a small masterpiece:

Uncompressed rye is swinging.
Soldiers are marching along it.
We are walking and we are girls
Like guys ...

In the same row can be noted the poem “Trumpets. The ashes are still hot ... "," Kissing. We cried and sang ... "," Penal battalion "," Through the gap of camouflage morning ... "," Laundry "," The wet dawn is coming ... ".
In other poems of the front cycle, the young, novice poet Yulia Drunina reflects on the pre-war time, on the careless school youth: “I left my childhood in a dirty war room, / To the infantry train, to a sanitary platoon”. Long before the war, Julia was fond of poetry, she began writing poetry at the age of eleven. She attended a literary studio. She wrote imitative poems mainly about "unearthly" love, about the exotic nature of distant countries, about castles, knights, "beautiful ladies", cowboys, tavern bums and other pseudo-romantic public. As Drunina herself recalled, it was "a cocktail from Blok, Main Reed and Yesenin." Subsequently, motives of youthful romantic hobbies slipped in her work: “Ah, Don Quixots, no matter how brave you are, / Your heroes are themes for witticisms. / And yet, long live the eagles / Throwing themselves on the plane! " ("The Eagles"); “I yearned / For nobility - / Yes, the Musketeers / They were not the same ...” (“I was yearned ...”). Echoes of youthful predilections were also reflected in war verses. In the same poem "I left my childhood ..." she writes:

I came from school to dugouts damp
From the Beautiful Lady to "mother" and "crush" ...

Here, another characteristic feature of her poetic handwriting manifested itself: utmost sincerity, truthfulness and frankness. And how could she write otherwise, if in the attack the soldiers shouted not only: “For the Motherland! For Stalin!". When they clashed in brutal hand-to-hand combat with a brutal enemy, grandiloquent speeches and slogans disappeared from the head and only the primordially Russian, deep, generic remained. This is the very "mother" to "crush" ... Here, Yulia Drunina, long before the so-called perestroika "exposers", showed the usual trench truth of the war, naked with poster calls, devoid of the shiny gloss of ideology. As in the famous short poem "Zinka": "Every day it got bitter. / We went without rallies and banners ... "
This poem is considered one of the best works of Drunina about the war. She dedicated it to her friend, medical instructor of the 667th rifle regiment Zinaida Samsonova, who died in 1944. Posthumously awarded the title of Hero Soviet Union... The poem begins with a picture of a soldier's night halt: “We lay down by a broken spruce. / We are waiting for when it starts to brighten. / Under the greatcoat, the two of us are warmer / On the chilled, rotten earth. " Two front-line friends, yesterday's tenth graders, are lying and talking. They are awake not because they do not want to sleep, no, they simply do not fall asleep from the cold. The friend of the lyric heroine, Zinaida, shares her secret: “- You know, Yulka, I am against sadness, / But today it does not count. / At home, in the apple wilderness, / Mom, my mother lives. / You have friends, beloved, / I have only one ... ”. Barely warmed up girlfriends are raised by an "unexpected order" - "Forward!" And again - a march, brutal bloody battles. The battalion is surrounded, and Zinka is killed in battle. A friend covers her body with her greatcoat. The final lines sound painfully bitter when Yulka, mentally talking to her dead friend, recalls her mother:

... And an old woman in a colorful dress
I lit a candle near the icon.
- I don't know how to write to her,
So that she does not wait for you.

The work is written in simple, artless, without pretentious poetic bells and whistles, in verse. The rhythm is a bit like the style of Nikolai Tikhonov, and the style of Alexander Tvardovsky. Drunina's images are bright, juicy, memorable: "chilled, rotten earth", "apple backwoods", "light-haired soldier", "black rye", "mortal frontiers".
About the harsh truth of the war, about a kind of trench justice, about duty, loyalty to the oath, about the honor of a military Russian officer - the poem "Combat". It is unlikely to leave anyone indifferent, because the author was able to convey the original essence of the “mysterious” Russian soul: harsh, uncompromising, but also kind, forgiving at the same time:

When, forgetting the oath, they turned
In battle, two machine gunners back,
Two small bullets caught up with them -
The battalion commander always shot without a miss ...

Then in the dugout of the regimental headquarters,
Silently taking the papers from the foreman,
The battalion commander wrote to two poor Russian women,
That ... their sons died the death of the brave.

And hundreds of times I read the letter to people
In a remote village, a crying mother.
Who will condemn this lie of the battalion commander?
Nobody dares to condemn him!

At the end of 1944, discharged from the army after a shell shock, Yulia Drunina returned to Moscow and began to attend lectures at the Literary Institute. Soon she was enrolled in the first year. At the beginning of the victorious forty-fifth, a selection of her poems was published in the Znamya magazine. In March 1947, Drunina took part in the First All-Union Meeting of Young Writers, was admitted to the Writers' Union. In 1948 her first book of poems, In a Soldier's Overcoat, was published. The name came, I think, not by chance. It was a symbolic image at that time: the front-line soldiers demobilized from the army, in the absence of civilian clothes, continued to walk in uniform. Julia Drunina has a poem on this topic:

I brought home from the fronts of Russia
Cheerful contempt for rags -
Like a mink coat I wore
His burnt overcoat.

And if the Russian writers of the 19th century, as F. Dostoevsky figuratively put it, emerged from Gogol's "Overcoat", then Soviet poets of the war generation undoubtedly left the soldier's overcoat.
But not only "contempt for rags" brought Drunin from the war, but also to human vices and shortcomings - to businessmen and opportunists who had crept into the "Temple of Poetry". “We must drive the merchants out of the temple,” she draws an analogy with the New Testament. And again in the first place she has the example of the military generation: “For those who went to war / At sixteen, / It is strange to become a coward / At sixty ...” (“Many are called ...”). In the poem "Trench Star" Drunina describes her return from the front to a peaceful life, into which she cannot fit in in any way. After all, all her trench skills are not needed here at all. She does not accept the bourgeoisie with its arrogant "prestige" ("Bourgeois bold word ..."), has a heart for the environment and the nature dying at the hand of an unreasonable person ("The park is cut down ..."), sympathizes with the "smaller brothers", animals. The poem "Menagerie" is indicative in this respect. “I don’t like zoos / Like concentration camps,” Julia Drunina admits bitterly.
She notices not only the particulars, but also the global shortcomings of the system. In this respect, the large poem "In the Tundra" written in the form of an allegory, behind which, however, the realities of the former socialist system are clearly visible, is very indicative. Now it is customary to call it totalitarian. “They are meek, like any herd: / Not the first year under the stick. / And how much does the herd need? / Tighten your belly ", - the author describes a herd of deer, which is chasing a Chukchi shepherd through the snow far from human habitation. But how recognizable everything is exactly, how truthful and bold. I can't even believe that the poem was written in 1973.
Meanwhile, Yulia Drunina was widely published. Books were published one after another: in 1955 - a collection of "Conversation with the Heart", in 1958 - "Wind from the Front", in 1960 - "Contemporaries", in 1963 - "Anxiety". In the 1970s - collections: "In two dimensions", "I am not from childhood", "Trench star", "There is no unhappy love" and others. In 1980 - "Indian Summer", in 1983 - "The Sun - for the Summer". Among the few prose works of Drunina - the story "Aliska" (1973), the autobiographical story "From those heights ..." (1979).
After the war, new themes appeared in Drunina's work, but all of them, in one way or another, are still associated with the past war, which for her personally will never end. “I’m still sad about my overcoat, / I see smoky dreams - / No, they didn’t manage to bring me back from the War,” she will write with utmost frankness. The contrast and deep chasm between war and peacetime is vividly shown in the poem “Two evenings”: “... Did you really sleep in the snow, / Have you attached an automatic machine in your heads? / You see, I just can't / I can imagine you in boots! .. ”- the guy confesses to the lyrical heroine. And then a completely different picture emerges in her mind's eye: snow is falling, enemy mortars are hitting. And another guy, something like this, pulled into a gray soldier's overcoat, says to her:

- Here, we lie and freeze in the snow,
As if they did not live in cities ...
I can't imagine you
In high-heeled shoes ...

Julia Drunina and further, in the long-awaited peacetime, measures everything with the same front-line standards: “Protect me, reliable breastwork / Desk breastwork” (“Work”). “I sometimes feel myself connected / Between those who are alive / And who have been taken away by the war” (“I sometimes feel myself connected ...”). “My cutting edge is / All my life on it / To be the one / Who is listed among the poets” (“I don’t remember the elderly in the war ...”). "I am in the army of Poetry / Soldier / Fight to the last / I want" ("No, we didn't dream ..."). "... More lines become bandages / For the wounded, for the burnt souls" ("The Old Poet"). "With an unbearable roar on me / Years crawl like tanks ..." ("I screwed up my heart like a motor ..."). Even in poems about nature, the poet uses familiar front-line images: “You cannot stop autumn. / And yet / Summer will fight until the end ”(“ Today is the battle of autumn and summer ... ”); "Pereshist of bird's radios" ("February").
The theme of war is undoubtedly the pivotal in Drunina's civic work, and is inextricably linked with lyrical reflections on the Motherland. But the poet has almost no poems about the so-called small homeland, where she was born and raised. She has a small homeland, Moscow, organically merges with a common, big homeland, Russia, for which she fought during the war. Only Yulia Drunina could write about her so heartfelt: “Oh, Russia! / A country with a difficult fate ... / I have you, Russia, / Like a heart, alone. / I will tell a friend, / I will tell an enemy - / Without you, / As without a heart, / I cannot live ... ”. In bitter moments of breakdown and disappointment, she confesses: "And where / Suddenly the strength comes from / At the hour when / In my soul it is black-black? .. / If I / Was not the daughter of Russia, / I would have dropped my hands long ago ...".
Love occupies an important place in her life and work. Drunina writes about her feelings with the same fierce emotional anguish as about the war: “Again the heart / To the heart has become attached - / Only with blood / Can be torn off” (“Summer smells ...”). “There is no unhappy love,” she declares in another poem, firmly believing in this and trying to assure others. - There is no ... / Do not be afraid to get / In the epicenter of a super-powerful explosion, / What is called "hopeless passion." And here is one more no less passionate revelation: “What they love once is nonsense, / Look closely at fate. / From first love to last / Everyone has a whole life. She is uncompromising in any circumstances, and if love passes, there is no choice for Drunina: “Loneliness is scary for the two of you, / Better to just be lonely ...” (Two were quiet next to each other in the night ... ”). And here are the piercing lines from, undoubtedly, the best poem about love "You are near", dedicated to her husband Alexei Kapler:

You are near, and everything is fine:
Both rain and cold wind.
Thank you my dear
For being in the world.

After the death of her beloved husband, she suffers a terrible mental anguish: “It's not so easy to die, / I live, execution myself, / As you can see, / Breeding - Death - / Forgot about me ...” (“Widow”).
Drunina thinks a lot about different generations, solving in her own way the eternal problem of fathers and children. But she does not oppose herself to them, does not envy their youth, strength, beauty, opportunities. Wise by the front-line experience, matured early, having seen life, looking into the cold eyes of death, she understands: each generation has its own destiny and its own super task. And that is why such memorable lines are added to her: “And our youth went on / To May / Through the Great War itself. / I envy young people / I do not know - / Let them envy me! "
She remains true to herself to the end, to her pre-war tastes and preferences. Regardless of what is fashionable and prestigious at the moment. She is somewhat cold to the youth's fascination with Western pop music: "In my heart / Solemnly and purely, / Like the Eternal / A fire was lit in it ... / Well, / That the transistor does not scream, / And the old accordion is crying."
Drunin, with youthful spontaneity, never ceases to be surprised at the new realities of the changed world. Looking at the counter modern girls, he involuntarily draws an analogy: "Really we were like that / And we were in the forty-first year? .." ("Easy. Gypsy proud ..."). The poet does not condemn the modern generation, which already has new idols, hobbies, views and inclinations. He recalls his pre-war youth: "We ourselves were dudes / Were known once, / And the time has come - / We went to the soldiers!" ("The girl is what you need!"). Gradually, an understanding of adulthood comes to her, and although her soul cannot come to terms with it, bitter words splash out on the paper: “Tell me, childhood, / Was it not yesterday / I walked in a coat up to my knee? / And now the children of our yard / My name is with respect "Lena's mother" ("Daughters").
It is not that it does not accept modernity, especially the one alien to the military generation, which, like a thundercloud, crept over the country from the West in the late eighties. She often does not understand her, in her heart she remains the same, tied in a gray army overcoat, "light-haired soldier." Despite everything, Drunina was a strong and courageous person. She was undoubtedly not angry with ill-wishers and enemies that a woman with such a strong-willed, tough, one might say masculine, uncompromising character: “Enemies only help me - / Swearing / Always perceived / As praise”. In bitter moments of troubles and disappointments, she found the strength to continue living and enjoy life, no matter what it was: “... I never scream in pain. / While I live, I struggle. / I am not happier, / I can not be blown out / They cannot, like a candle. "
And these were not just words. Her words were never at odds with her deeds. In August 1991, Yulia Drunina, sincerely believing in perestroika, together with others defended the White House. I took the collapse of the Soviet Union with pain. But the mental breakdown happened much earlier, back in 1979, when her beloved husband, famous screenwriter, film director, actor and TV presenter Alexei Kapler died. The collapse of the country and the collapse of the Soviet ideals, for which its generation shed blood on the fronts of the Great Patriotic War, only added fuel to the fire.
Julia Drunina tragically passed away, committing suicide on November 20, 1991. Before her death, she prepared the last collection of poems with the symbolic title "Judgment Hour". A kind of poetic testament:

... I'm leaving, I have no strength. Only from afar
(All baptized!) I will pray
For people like you - for the elect
Hold Rus over the precipice.

But I am afraid that you are powerless.
Therefore I choose death.
How Russia flies downhill,
I can't, I don't want to watch!

Julia DRUNINA

Judgment hour

The heart is covered with frost -
It's very cold at the hour of judgment ...
And you have eyes like a monk -
I have never met such eyes.

I'm leaving, I have no strength.
Only from afar
(All baptized!)
I will pray
For people like you -
For the elect
Hold Rus over the precipice.

But I am afraid that you are powerless.
Therefore I choose death.
How Russia flies downhill,
I can't, I don't want to watch!

Unofficial biography

Part one

She said about herself: "I am not from childhood, from the war ...". And it seemed to be true. As if there was no childhood. As if at once - war, the first and most vivid impression of life. Like others - love.

Julia Drunina also had love. But the war overshadowed everything. Most of her poems are on a military theme, and this theme suddenly sparkled in the poetess's work twenty, and thirty, and forty years after the war. The war once awakened her soul - and stirred her memory until the last day, when the poetess herself decided that it was time to leave ...

Julia Drunina was born on May 10, 1924, in Moscow, in an intelligent family: her father is a history teacher Vladimir Drunin, her mother is Matilda Borisovna, she worked in the library and gave music lessons. We lived in a communal apartment. They lived in poverty. But the daughter was introduced to culture from an early age. The girl read a lot, her father gave her the classics, from Homer to Dostoevsky, she herself, however, was drawn to Dumas and Charskaya - they found that transcendental courage and sincerity of feelings that the classics never described as something impossible in real life. But Julia Drunina believed that everything is possible. Her entire generation believed. And they all proved with their lives: really - everything is possible ... You just have to believe in it.

Yulia did not like being a girl terribly. She was friends with boys, played war, hated bows and all sorts of ornaments so much that one day, out of a feeling of protest, she cut off a huge bow along with a ponytail on which it was tied: the family was waiting for guests and Matilda Borisovna decided to embellish her daughter, but as a result, she had to urgently lead her to the hairdresser and cut like a boy ... More bows were not tied to her. In general, Yulia had a difficult relationship with her mother all her life. They had very different opinions about what a girl, girl, woman should be ... Matilda Borisovna believed that she was feminine, flirtatious and tender, and Julia saw her ideal as the cavalry girl Nadezhda Durova, and revered her infinite courage, loyalty to the oath as her ideal and perseverance in achieving the goal - of course, the highest goal one can choose for oneself!

In 1931, Yulia entered school. She wrote poetry even then. She attended a literary studio at the Central House of Artistic Education of Children, located in the building of the Theater for Young Spectators. In the late 30s she took part in the competition for the best poem. As a result, the poem "We were sitting at a school desk together ..." was published in the "Uchitelskaya Gazeta" and broadcast on the radio. Yulia's father also wrote poetry and published several brochures, including about Taras Shevchenko. And he himself, as a poet, did not take place, did not believe in the literary vocation of his daughter. She later recalled: “And I never doubted that I would be a writer. I could not be shaken by any serious arguments or the poisonous ridicule of my father, who is trying to save his daughter from cruel disappointments. He knew that only a few made their way to Parnassus. Why should I be among them? .. ". Unfortunately, my father did not live to see Julia's real literary success. And she lamented about this all her life - after all, she was her father's daughter, not her mother's, she idolized her father ...

Like all her generation, Yulia dreamed of exploits and desperately regretted that she herself was still so young that she could not participate in anything, it seemed to her that all the most important things were passing by: “Salvation of the Chelyuskin people, concern for Marina straying in the taiga Raskovu, the conquest of the pole, Spain - that's what we lived in childhood. And they were upset that they were born too late ... An amazing generation! It is quite natural that in the tragic 1941 it became a generation of volunteers ... ”. She was from the same generation with the Young Guard and Zoya Kosmodemyanskaya. She was just as light, naive and initially ready for a heroic deed and even death in the name of the Motherland, as they were. In the poem "In Memory of Clara Davidyuk", dedicated to a radio operator who died behind enemy lines, who heroically and romantically blew up herself and her mortally wounded lover with a grenade in front of a group of fascists, Julia Drunina wrote - well, quite as if to herself:

Shyness. Turgenev's braids.
Falling in love with books, stars, silence.
But adolescence by train off the slope
Suddenly it rolled with a roar into the war ...

She had just finished school when the war broke out. Of course, she immediately rushed to the recruiting office. And of course, she was simply kicked out: after all, she was barely seventeen! And they took to the front from the age of eighteen. It was terribly offensive, because then, in June-July 1941, sixteen and seventeen-year-olds were afraid that the war would end before they had time to take part in it ... Yulia envied those girls who were a year older than her and, therefore, could go to the front : medical instructors, rifle battalions, aviation, radio operators.

What amazing faces
The military registration and enlistment offices saw then!
Flowing young beauties<…>
They all walked and they walked -
From high school
From philological faculties,
From MEI and from MAI,
The color of youth
Komsomol elite,
Turgenev girls are mine!

She herself was a completely Turgenev girl. Book. Romantic. She, it seems, did not even suspect that in life there is cruelty, rudeness, dirt ... And all this she had to sip with interest.

At the beginning of the war, on the advice of her father, she worked as a nurse in an eye hospital in Moscow. I was gaining experience for future work in military hospitals. Graduated from nursing courses. The Germans were rushing to the capital - by the end of the summer, Yulia had to leave the hospital and go to dig trenches. There, during one of the air raids, she got lost, lagged behind her squad, and she was picked up by a group of infantrymen who really needed a nurse. Julia knew how to bandage ... True, from childhood she was terribly afraid of blood, she felt ill at the sight of even a tiny wound ... But the Komsomol member had to cultivate an iron will. And Julia coped with the fear of bloody wounds, especially since very soon she had to sip much more serious dangers. The infantrymen were surrounded, they had to get out, for thirteen days they walked to their own: “We walked, crawled, ran, bumping into the Germans, losing comrades, swollen, exhausted, driven by one passion - to break through! There were also moments of despair, indifference, dullness, but more often there was simply no time for this - all mental and physical forces were concentrated on one specific task: to slip unnoticed by the highway along which German cars were constantly rushing, or, land, pray that the fascist, wandering in need into the bushes, will not find you, or run a few meters to the saving ravine while your comrades cover your retreat. And above everything - panic horror, horror before captivity. For me, girls, it was sharper than that of men. Perhaps this horror helped me a lot, because it was stronger than the fear of death. "

It was there, in this infantry battalion - or rather, in the group that was left of the battalion that was surrounded, - Julia met her first love, the most sublime and romantic.

In poetry and in her memoirs, she calls him Kombat - with a capital letter. But nowhere does he mention his name. Although the memory of him carried through the whole war and preserved forever. He was not much older than her ... A handsome guy with blue eyes and dimples on his cheeks. Or maybe he became beautiful later, in the poet's memories, in her imagination: “… of course, my faith in the battalion commander, admiration for him, my childhood love helped. Our battalion commander, a young teacher from Minsk, really turned out to be an outstanding person. Such self-control, understanding of people and talent to choose the best option in the most hopeless situation with lightning speed, I have never met with anyone else, although I have seen many good commanders. With him, the soldiers felt like they were behind a stone wall, although what “walls” could be in our position? "

There is such a profession - to defend the Motherland ... But the young teacher from Minsk had a completely different profession - teaching children. Just like a young nurse who is in love with him has a completely different mission: to write poetry. However, in 1941, the Motherland needed soldiers and nurses more than teachers and poetesses. And the young Kombat-teacher suddenly turned out to be a born warrior. When there were only nine of them left, they reached the German front line, and the only place where they could slip through was a minefield. And the battalion commander walked across the field, went to the mines ... which, fortunately, turned out to be anti-tank and did not detonate from the weight of a person. Then he called a soldier to follow him. And already at the edge of the field, when they all considered themselves safe, one of the mines turned out to be anti-personnel ... The battalion commander was killed and two people who followed him were also killed. Julia survived. “The mine that killed the battalion commander stunned me for a long time. And then, years later, Combats will often appear in my poems ... ”.

Julia ended up in Moscow again. It was autumn. Moscow was evacuated. The father - the director of the school - had to leave together with the whole team and students to Siberia, to the village of Zavodoukovsk. And Yulia did not want to go, Yulia again stormed the military registration and enlistment offices, arguing that she was needed at the front, that she could be at the front, because she was already there ... But she was still not eighteen years old and no one dared to send her to the front. However, Julia believed that sooner or later she would break the stupid stubbornness of her superiors.

Finally, the day came when the parents left, and she was left alone in an empty apartment. But in the middle of the night, in the bombing, her father returned and said that he would stay with her ... And Yulia surrendered - the next day they left together. My father had diseased blood vessels and at the beginning of the war he had already experienced one stroke, now he was limping, his hands were trembling ... He would not have survived a second stroke. Julia went to the evacuation - to save him. But even during the evacuation, she did not part with the dream to get to the front by all means. Father died in early 1942: he could not stand the terrible news from the front. He had a stroke and for several weeks he lay paralyzed, slowly fading away. Julia looked after him. And when she buried her, she decided that nothing would keep her in evacuation and that she had to break through to the front. She was supposed to turn eighteen only in the summer, but she left for Khabarovsk and entered the school of junior aviation specialists. Studying at school became another nightmare, a very "socially heterogeneous" team surrounded her, and she was not very successful in assembling and disassembling machine guns, although she won the first prize for literary composition. Only the front needed people with dexterous hands, not with a good imagination ... And yet, Yulia was sure that sooner or later she would come in handy. And so it happened.

One day the girls - junior aviation specialists - were announced that they were being transferred to the women's reserve regiment. The disabled foreman, who brought them this joyful, from his point of view, news, explained: “You will be there, as it should be, us, men, to wash and trim. So congratulations! You will remain alive and not crippled. " Yulia Vladimirovna later recalled that she almost fainted from this news - she would have fallen if she knew how to do it as easily as the heroines of the novels of her beloved Lydia Charskaya! After all, it was not for this that she fought for so long and suffered with the assembly and disassembly of the machine gun in order to become a laundress in the woman's battalion! The sergeant major, however, added as he left: “Besides, of course, those who, therefore, are doctors. We cannot do without them yet. It hurts a lot of medicine THERE knocks out. Julia beamed, rushed to look for a certificate of completion of nursing courses and the next evening, exulting, handed it to the same foreman. "He shrugged his shoulders and muttered:" Are you tired of young life? " But apparently, doctors really needed the Army in the field: the very next day I received a referral to the sanitary and technical department of the Second Belorussian Front. I ran to the Belorussky railway station, and my head kept spinning: "No, this is not merit, but luck - to become a girl a soldier in the war, no, this is not a merit, but luck ...".

She finished this poem only twenty years later:

No, this is not merit, but luck -
Become a girl a soldier in a war
If my life had turned out differently,
How ashamed I would have been on Victory Day! ...

"It took me more than two years to return to my dear infantry!" - Julia Drunina lamented forty years later. She was glad that she got to the front, she was glad that she was able to take part in great battles, but how hard it was every day, day after day ... Cold, dampness, no fires could be made, slept on wet snow if you managed to spend the night in a dugout - this is already good luck, but still I never managed to get enough sleep, as soon as my sister lay down - and again shelling, and again into battle, carrying out the wounded, and heavy boots with stuck mud, long transitions, when she literally fell from fatigue, but it was all the same to go, just because it was necessary ... And also dirt and as a result - boils, persistent cold that turned into lung disease, and hunger, because they did not always have time to deliver food ... “I came from school to the dugouts damp, from the Beautiful Ladies in "mother" and "crush" ... ". And this is not to mention the shelling, the daily meetings with death, the despair that gripped her from the consciousness of her own helplessness when the wounded died in her arms - sometimes, after all, they could have been saved if there was a real hospital nearby, real doctors and tools! But they did not always have time to deliver ... And also purely female problems, which were so often forgotten by both writers and filmmakers of the post-war era - which they simply did not suspect! “And how many times has it happened - you need to take a seriously wounded man out of the fire, but there is not enough strength. I want to unclench the soldier's fingers to free the rifle - it will still be easier to drag him. But the fighter clung to his “three-line model of 1891 with a stranglehold. Almost unconscious, and his hands remember the first soldier's commandment - never, under any circumstances, not to drop your weapon! The girls could also talk about their additional difficulties. About how, for example, how men wounded in the chest or stomach were ashamed of men and sometimes tried to hide their wounds ... Or about how they were afraid to get to the hospital in dirty underwear. And laughter and sin! .. ". Yulia herself once had to hide her severe injury - a fragment of an artillery shell entered the neck on the left and got stuck a few millimeters from the artery. But Julia did not suspect that the wound was dangerous, it was far from the hospital, and she simply wrapped her neck with bandages and continued to work - to save others. I hid it until it got really bad. And I woke up already in the hospital and there I learned that I was on the verge of death.

In the hospital, in 1943, she wrote her first poem about the war, which was included in all anthologies of military poetry:

I've seen hand-to-hand combat so many times
Once in reality. And a thousand - in a dream.
Who says that war is not scary
He knows nothing about the war.

She knew about the war - everything ... And she was then only nineteen. The braids, which she revered as her only beauty and cherished, despite all the difficulties of the front-line life, were cut to almost zero when she was brought to the hospital unconscious. She was terribly thin and very much like a boy. In addition, there was no ward for women in that hospital at all, and Yulia was in the men's room. The wounded from the neighboring beds delicately turned away when the nurses came to take the necessary care of the seriously wounded "sister" who did not get out of bed. They were generally very respectful with the only girl in the ward and each newcomer was warned not to swear during dressings ... And the young cook, who was delivering food to the wounded, fell in love with Yulia, being sure that there was a very young boy in front of her. She felt sorry for her, fed her, and when she found out the truth, she rewarded her with a slap in the face for deception, the initiator of which, in general, was not Julia herself, but her neighbors in the ward.

After the hospital she was declared disabled and discharged. She returned to Moscow: “... leaving the metro, I saw a crowd of excited women at the stall. I wondered what they give? The answer stunned me - a fashion magazine ... I felt like I was on another planet, in another dimension ... ”. Yulia behaved as if she was in another dimension. That is, she did whatever she wanted. With all the money given out at the hospital, I bought a black silk dress at a thrift store. She never had that. The next day she polished her boots, put on a tunic with a medal "For Courage" over her silk dress and went to the social security department to receive food ration cards and a pension: "I am coming, my head is bandaged, the medal is tinkling. And behind, two boys, ten years old, exchange opinions. "Partisan!" Says one enthusiastically. I lift my nose even higher. And then I heard the remark of the second: “Her legs are like matches. The German will give it, and they will break! " What fools! " Having received a pension of one hundred and five rubles, Yulia immediately spent all of it on ice cream. It turned out exactly three portions - thirty-five rubles each: “I have never regretted this act! Magic, fabulous, enchanted ice cream! In him there was a taste of childhood returned for a moment, and an acute feeling of the approaching victory, and the wonderful frivolity of youth! .. "

On the same day, she came to the Gorky Literary Institute, where she met with the party organizer - Slava Vladimirovna Shirina - who, in general, reacted to her cordially, because a wounded front-line soldier came ... But she criticized the poetry as immature, and in admission to the institute refused. For Yulia, this was a serious blow. She could not imagine her future life in Moscow. It seemed to her: either - the Literary Institute, or ... Nothing! Life once again felt empty and meaningless, and a front-line nostalgia arose in my soul - at least THERE it was needed! And Julia decided to return. Fortunately, she was recognized as fit for combat. She again fell into the infantry.

The last year of the war for Yulia was in some ways even harder than the first, when she, with the remnants of the regiment, got out of the encirclement. Then it was hard physically and mentally, but it seemed absolutely scary to die - there were other fears, more serious. And now dying was not that scary, but ... It was somehow offensive. After all, the victory was so close! In addition, they did not go through Russia and Belarus, where the soldiers were greeted as liberators, as their own, relatives, but through the hostile Baltic lands, where even food in abandoned houses could not be tasted - it could be poisoned. In Estonia, for the first time, Yulia really faced a German face to face - before, the Germans were only hostile faceless figures in the darkness for her, but they flew in with bullets, and artillery shells fell from the sky, and mines lurked in the ground ... And this time she saw the German so close that he even seemed to her a man, the same as the guys with whom she fought next: “The regimental intelligence brought in a“ tongue ”. Before handing it over to the headquarters, the guys asked me to "repair the Fritz a bit." "Fritz," a young chief lieutenant, lay on his back with his arms twisted back. Light-haired, with the correct sharp features of a courageous face, he was handsome with that poster "Aryan" beauty, which, by the way, was so lacking for the Fuhrer himself. The prisoner was not even too spoiled by a hefty abrasion on his cheekbone and a slow snake of blood crawling out of the corner of his mouth. For a second his blue eyes met mine, then the German took them away and continued to calmly look into the autumn sky with white clouds of explosions - Russian anti-aircraft guns were beating ...<…> Something like sympathy stirred in me. I moistened a cotton swab with peroxide and bent over the wounded man. And the same one was dimmed in my eyes from pain. The angry guys lifted me off the ground. I didn't immediately understand what had happened. The fascist, whom I wanted to help, with all his might hit me with a shod boot in the stomach ... ".

Since victory was so close, everyone hoped to survive so much that they even dared to make plans for the future. Julia, too - and all her plans were related to literary creativity and study at the literary institute. She regularly wrote to Slava Vladimirovna Shirina and sent her her poems. In one of the letters, she said that she was writing while lying on the ground under an infantry fighting vehicle, and then they thought about it and put it on “under the tank,” because she assumed that the Party organizer of the Literary Institute might not know what it was - an infantry fighting vehicle!

Soon, in one of the battles, Yulia was shell-shocked ... And again the hospital, and again discharged. The medical history listed: frequent fainting, frequent bleeding from the nasal cavity, severe headaches, cough with bloody sputum ... the conclusion: “unsuitable for carrying military service with re-examination in six months. " This certificate was issued on November 21, 1944. Just six months later, the war ended.

In Moscow, Julia - awarded the Order of the Red Star - found herself at the end of December, just in the middle of that academic year, and immediately came to the Literary Institute. I just walked into the auditorium where the freshmen were sitting and sat down among them: “My unexpected appearance caused confusion in the educational unit, but do not expel a war invalid!” She passed the exam and even received a scholarship: one hundred and forty rubles, while a kilogram of potatoes on the black market cost one hundred rubles. True, in the first half of the year she received a military pension - another one hundred and five rubles. Of the clothes she had that very black silk dress, blouse, several woolen stockings, leggings, breeches, tunic, greatcoat and boots. But that year almost the entire Literary Institute wore greatcoats. And some - also on crutches. It was both hungry and cold, and ink froze in the classrooms. And yet it was such a happy time - for everyone! And later she recalled him with a bright longing: “Despite the unbearably difficult life, this time remained in memory bright and beautiful. It's good to be a veteran at twenty! We caught each other in the corridors, pushed each other into a corner and read out verses that filled us. And they never took offense at criticism, which was direct and harsh. We also had no idea about diplomacy. "

At the beginning of 1945, the Znamya magazine published a selection of poems by the young poetess Yulia Drunina. This is how her "literary career" began. Julia was very sorry that her father did not live to see this ... If only I could show him these lines on thin yellow paper, and most importantly - your name above them!

The war was over, people were gradually returning to life, and now, as never before, I wanted to love and bear children. However, this was observed all over the world, even in the USA, where the war was something very distant, anyway from 1945 to 1947 there was a "baby boom" - a huge number of weddings were played, a huge number of children were born. But in tormented, bloodless Russia, a somewhat different situation was observed. I wanted to love and give birth. But ... there was no one to love and no one to give birth to. According to statistics, among the front-line soldiers born in 1922, 1923 and 1924, three percent remained alive by the end of the war. This was the generation of Yulia Drunina ... She wrote:

And there is no one to walk with
In the forty-fifth year ...
(Our children understand
This trouble is difficult,)
Thundered across Russia
The clatter of crutches ...
Hey, let it be without legs
Eh, let it be without hands!

She recalled how she ran to the dances ... In those days, thinness was considered terribly not fashionable and not beautiful, and Yulia put on two pairs of stockings under her leggings and a blouse under a silk dress to seem plump.

Mom returned from evacuation. The relationship was still difficult. Mother and daughter did not understand each other at all. As if from different planets.

Therefore, the closest person for Julia was her chosen one. Also a front-line soldier, also with stripes for wounds, also a poet, classmate - Nikolai Starshinov.

Nikolay Starshinov

However, there were many front-line soldiers on the course, and Nikolai Yulia was also brought together by the fact that both of them were Muscovites and went to the same art studio in childhood, and even their favorite performance in the theater of the young spectator they had in common - "Tom Canty". Starshinov recalls: “She was exhausted by the war - a half-starved existence, she was pale, thin and very beautiful. I was pretty confused too. But our mood was high - pre-victorious ... ". The general mood and almost absolute mutual understanding in the first years of their life together - the marriage of Yulia Drunina and Nikolai Starshinov was at first happy, despite all the disasters. They were both disabled and both were poets, and lived not just poor, but as Starshinov writes, "super poor", they were the poorest in the entire huge communal apartment! All the time they were sick - in turn, he, then she. But they were still happy.

In 1946 their daughter Lena was born. In infancy, she also fell ill and Julia was very worried, afraid that it was because of her, because of her many ailments, the baby turned out to be so fragile. But then the girl straightened, became healthy and lively. True, I had to leave the Literary Institute, Yulia recovered only three years later, and the year after the birth of her daughter was especially difficult ... But life was gradually getting better. And this is despite the mismanagement of Julia - a poet, they are all like that! - who did not know how and did not like to organize life. However, her indifference to everyday life was not superficial, like that of some white-handed woman, but genuine, soldier's, Spartan. Even her husband did not blame her for this and even admired: “All the difficulties of the military and post-war life Julia endured stoically - I did not hear from her a single reproach, not a single complaint. And she still wore the same greatcoat, tunic and boots for several more years ... ”.

She also did not know how to organize her own work, or rather, to get organized with publications. Starshinov recalled that Yulia Drunina never ran around the editorial offices, and only occasionally, when she learned that one of her friends was going to some magazine, asked to enter her poems at the same time. Julia Drunina was a participant in the First All-Union Meeting of Young Writers in 1947, at the same time she received a recommendation to the Union of Writers. But she did not manage to really join the Union soon ... And that first publication in "Znamya" was remembered, Drunina's poems caused a wide resonance - and this at a time when almost all poems were written on a military theme! - and she was offered to publish the first collection. It was a great success and a serious material support for the young family.

Her first book of poetry, In a Soldier's Greatcoat, was published in 1948. It was a success.

And in subsequent years, collections were published one after another: "A Conversation with the Heart" (1955), "Contemporaries" (1960), "There is no unhappy love ..." (1973), "Trench Star" (1975), "The World under the Olives" (1978), "Indian Summer" (1980), "We are true to our vows" (1983), a two-volume collection of poetry and prose in 1989 and more, and more ... Drunina's books are published to this day. It means that they are reading it now!

The military theme has always remained the main one for her. Nikolai Starshinov recalls that "they often made fun of her: they say, she wrote poems about a pine forest, but all the same, unexpectedly boots or windings appeared in it ...". And she answered the scoffers with her verses:

I sometimes feel connected
Between those who are alive
And who was taken away by the war ...
I am connected.
I wander in the partisan forest
From the living
I carry a report to the dead.

The creative path of Yulia Drunina and in peacetime was replete with all kinds of difficulties, not only everyday, but also social. Moreover, the reason for most of these difficulties was her external attractiveness. Nikolai Starshinov writes: “Julia was beautiful and very charming. Her facial features had something in common with the then very popular actress Lyubov Orlova. Attractive appearance often helped young poetesses to "break through", get on the pages of magazines and newspapers, pay special attention to their work, and treat their poetic fate more kindly. On the contrary, she often interfered with Drunina because of her uncompromising character, her uncompromising attitude ... ”.

The story of her difficult relationship with the poet Pavel Grigorievich Antokolsky, who conducted a seminar at the Literary Institute, was sensational. Julia studied with him and at first Antokolsky praised her very much, and then suddenly declared her talentless and offered to exclude her from the institute as being creatively dependent. Yulia was allowed to transfer to another seminar ... And a few years later she very sharply opposed Antokolsky at a meeting of the Writers' Union, timed to the all-Union struggle against cosmopolitans ... And this was not forgotten or forgiven. Starshinov recalls that even during the funeral, at the civil funeral service in the House of Writers, Grigory Pozhenyan "standing at her coffin, in his speech did not miss the opportunity to remind about this."

Pavel Antokolsky

And meanwhile, Antokolsky was in love with Drunina - or not in love, or rather, he was inflamed with a criminal passion for her! - because lovers do not pursue the object of their love so brazenly and boldly, but a lusting man in the name of passion is capable of much, including frankly unworthy acts. This is exactly what Pavel Antokolsky did. Julia Drunina refused him his claims for several months, and finally the culmination occurred: at the end of 1945, the publishing house "Molodaya Gvardiya" edited by Antokolsky published the first book of poems by Veronika Tushnova, with whom Drunina and Starshinov were friends. She invited Antokolsky to dinner in honor of the book's release - of course! - and many of his friends, including those who were not yet married, but already in love with each other, Drunin and Starshinov, who later recalled: “Somewhere between the toasts, Yulia went out into the corridor. Antokolsky also came out. Soon I heard noise and fuss in the corridor, and when I went out there, I saw Pavel Georgievich dragging the resting Julia into the bathroom. I tried to stop him. He was furious - some boy dares to contradict him! - wrapped me around. However, I answered him the same, but insisted on my own. The result of the conflict was that Antokolsky, using his power and position as a teacher, began to openly humiliate Starshinov in almost every class, and Drunin tried to survive from the institute. Of course, the fact that the poetess took advantage of the general situation in the country and the process against cosmopolitans to settle accounts with the offender does not look very nice, but on the other hand, for a girl of that time, the insult was too cruel, of those that, as they say , washed off only with blood!

Another failed seducer of Yulia Drunina was the famous poet Stepan Shchipachev, deputy editor-in-chief of the Krasnoarmeets magazine, a member of the editorial board of the October magazine, who invited the young poetess to read her poems to him and promised to publish them in both magazines.

Stepan Schipachev

What happened between Drunina and Shchipachev in his office - we know again from the words of Nikolai Starshinov, who was just waiting for his young wife on the street: “Less than a quarter of an hour later, she ran out to me, flushed and indignant:“ Can you imagine what did this old fool think of? As soon as I entered his office, he broke out into a kind smile: “It's very good, Julia, that you came on time. Sit down, sit down, right here on the sofa. I have already forgiven all your poems, your replacement poems. And we will certainly publish them both in Krasnoarmeis and in Oktyabr ... I really don’t know, I don’t know how to treat you ... Yes, please, at least try the currants ... ”. He pushed a saucer of red berries closer to me and sat down next to me on the sofa. I moved a little away from him, and he again came close and hugged me around the waist. I began to distance myself from him. And then he made such a stupid speech: “Well, why are you afraid of our closeness? But nobody will know about it. But on the other hand, you will have memories for the rest of your life that you were close to a great Soviet poet! .. ". I jumped up from the sofa and flew into the street like an arrow from the "big sovetsky poet" ... ". That's the whole incident. One can only add that Yulia's poems did not appear either in Krasnoarmeytsa or in Oktyabr. "

Konstantin Simonov

Some kind of misunderstanding occurred with Yulia Drunina and with Konstantin Simonov - so that, as a result, Simonov for a long time prevented Drunina from joining the Writers' Union and, if not for the intervention of Alexander Tvardovsky, who defended her candidacy, it is not known how long she would have been “a candidate to become members of the Union ".

One might get the impression that Drunina was simply too complex and conflicted person. But in reality she was not complex, but just a very simple and holistic person, with clear concepts of what is good and what is bad, a person for whom the world was polarized into black and white. She was also a romantic. A real romantic. And her perception of the world at the front was even easier for her than in a peaceful life. She still wrote enthusiastically and completely sincerely:

But if my heart
You need, Russia,
You take it,
Like in forty-one.

In the ninety-first, she will give her heart to Russia - but only did anyone need it besides herself, did anyone accept this sacrifice, did they notice? ..

Drunina did not know how to play and bend down. She went to meet any problem with an open visor. Some of the acquaintances even believed that Yulia Vladimirovna somehow did not grow up at all. She remained not only youthfully sincere and sensitive, but also childish in her hobbies and passions. She could not settle down in any way. And after thirty years - for those times already a serious age! - she loved to walk in the mountains, and even on partisan paths, and, arriving in Koktebel, she always begged the border guards for a horse to ride for an hour, and in return spoke to the border guards with reading poetry. Probably, horseback riding reminded her of her favorite heroes of her youth: Nadezhda Durova, Zhanna D "Ark, musketeers ... She passed on her love for horses to her daughter, who went to study at the Veterinary Academy and then worked as a livestock technician at the hippodrome.

Yulia Vladimirovna generally hated remembering her age and categorically opposed congratulations on her anniversary to appear in the press. When the granddaughter appeared, she did not want her to call her "grandmother." She had not yet had time to feel herself as a mother, and here - on you! - already a grandmother ... But in her heart she felt so young! Moreover, at a rather mature age, the third - the last - and the most important love in her life came into her life. And she fell in love - like a girl, and they loved her - like a girl ... Because the chosen one of her heart, the famous screenwriter Alexei Yakovlevich Kapler, was twenty years older than Yulia Vladimirovna Drunina.

Part two

Alexey Kapler

Alexey Kapler was born in Kiev, in 1916, became interested in cinema while still a boy - as a spectator! As a boy, I preferred not adventure films and detective stories, which even then was literally crammed with rental, from movies, but sad and lyrical films with the "screen queen" Vera Kholodnaya. Fifty years later, he wrote: “The questionnaires that I had to fill out contained various questions, but none of them contained a question about first love. And if he stood, I would have to honestly answer: Vera Kholodnaya. What am I! .. All of Russia was in love with her! "

Vera Cold

From the age of sixteen, Aleksey Kapler worked in a local theater - an actor, assistant director. Then, he managed to connect his life with cinema. He wrote "Lenin in October" and "Lenin in 1918" for Mikhail Romm, and after the war became famous for "Striped Flight" and "Amphibian Man". He was the creator and the first presenter of Kinopanorama.

Kapler taught at VGIK and, in general, was a respected and famous person. But Drunin was probably attracted to him by his romantic nature. No trials, no tragedies, to which his fate turned out to be generous, did not burn out the craving for romance from his soul. But only his first love, Vera Cold, and the last, Yulia Drunina, did he remain truly faithful. And between Vera and Yulia in his life there was an incredible number of women, Alexei Kapler was a very charming man and very loving, he loved and understood women, and women fell in love with him often and sometimes desperately ... In our time, he would be called a "playboy", although both something does not fit this frivolous word with its majestic gray hair. Then, probably, "don-juan", although he was not a collector of women - he just loved them ... And even in those nightmarish times, when, according to a joke, half of the country was sitting, and half of the country was shaking, the laureate Stalin Prize Alexei Kapler ended up in prison not for anything, but for yet another affair - this time a completely platonic relationship with Stalin's daughter, Svetlana.

Svetlana Alliluyeva (Stalin)

Fortunately for himself, he served only four years. However, even in the camp, he managed to capture a woman's heart: his beloved was the beautiful film actress Valentina Tokarskaya, who was serving time for being captured at the beginning of the war.

Valentina Tokarskaya

Returning from exile, Kapler quite easily re-established old ties and re-entered the creative process. He was a cheerful person, not inclined to reflecting because of the suffering he had experienced, and therefore it seemed to everyone that he "got off easily." But in fact, he simply forbade himself to worry about the fact that it is impossible to change anyway, because this is in the past. Kapler had the strength to look into the future.

And his future was a young poetess, a wounded and sick front-line soldier Yulia Drunina - as incorrigibly romantic as himself. Kapler was married, Julia was also married, but their meeting was truly fatal for both - or, better to say, fateful! - and the attraction is mutual and so strong that the bonds of two legal marriages could not restrain it.

They met in 1954, when Julia enrolled in scriptwriting courses at the Union of Cinematographers, where Kapler taught. Love flared up immediately, but for another six years Julia fought this "lawless" feeling, remaining faithful to her husband, trying to keep the family together. But even restrained and - as it seemed to her then - hopeless love for Alexei Kapler gave her great happiness, inspired her to poetry:

There is no unhappy love.
Doesn't happen ... don't be afraid to get
Into the epicenter of a super powerful explosion
What is called "hopeless passion".

Alexey Kapler divorced, Yulia also broke up with Nikolai Starshinov and in 1960 went to Kapler, taking her daughter with her. However, perhaps her marriage with Starshinov cracked even earlier, before meeting with Kapler, because back in 1952 she wrote a poem: "I left you - how can I live without you?" Then she left and returned, because she had nowhere to go and no one to go to. And now a feeling appeared in her life so great that it flooded her whole soul and filled all her thoughts - so that even in the poems of that time she wrote much more about love than about war!

What they love once is nonsense
Take a closer look at fate.
From first love to last
Everyone has a lifetime.

And indeed, from her first love - that young battalion commander who died in the war, whom she never forgot - to the last, to Alexei Kapler, a whole life passed, seventeen years, containing war and victory, two wounds, marriage and the birth of a child, and most importantly - the release of her first book. So that's right - a lifetime!

The marriage of Kapler and Drunina was very happy. Julia dedicated to her husband, her love for him, a huge number of poems - although less than about the war, but more than about anything else.

I love you wicked, in the excitement of work,
In the days when you are far from the sinful world,
On days when you throw companies in the offensive,
Battalions, regiments and divisions of rows.

I love you kind, on a festive evening,
The ringleader, the soul of the table, the toastmaster.
So you are cheerful and generous, so childishly careless,
As if he had never fraternized with trouble.

Acquaintances said that Kapler "took off Yulia's soldier's boots and shod her in crystal slippers." He really loved her endlessly, infinitely, he protected her from all life's difficulties. Nikolai Starshinov wrote: “I know that Alexey Yakovlevich Kapler treated Yulia very touchingly - he replaced her mother, nanny, and father. He took over all the household chores. He settled her relationship with P. Antokolsky and K. Simonov. He helped her reach a wide audience. When her books came out, he even toured bookstores, arranged for them to make more orders for them, pledging to buy them out immediately if they ran out of stock. So, in any case, I was told in the Poetry store ... She began to work hard and hard all the time. The range of her genres expanded: she turned to journalism, to prose. And if you look at her two-volume edition, published by the publishing house "Khudozhestvennaya literatura" in 1989, it turns out that from 1943 to 1969, that is, in seventeen years, she wrote half as many poems as in the same next period of time. And if we add to this the prose written in the same years, it turns out that its “productivity” has increased fourfold, or even fivefold. " And Drunina was aware of this. She wrote:

Your love is my fence
My protective armor.
And I don't need another armor
And a holiday - every weekday.
But without you I'm unarmed
And defenseless as a target.

She seemed to have a presentiment of her coming helplessness and restlessness - without him ...

Alexey Kapler and Yulia Drunina lived in their happy marriage for nineteen years. They were envied and admired. As an anecdote passed from mouth to mouth, as on some of Yulia Vladimirovna's foreign business trips, when she was already returning home, the very elderly Kapler, unable to wait for her beloved in Moscow, went to meet her at the border - to Brest. They laughed at Kapler, but my God, who would not want for himself - such love, for himself - such reciprocity?

You are near, and everything is fine:
Both rain and cold wind.
Thank you my dear
For being in the world.

Alexey Yakovlevich Kapler died in September 1979. They buried him, according to his request, at the cemetery in the town of Stary Krym. Yulia Vladimirovna even then said that she would like to be buried here, in the same grave with him ... She even worried that there would be a place for her name on his tombstone. Even then, on the day of the funeral of Alexei Yakovlevich, she began to plunge into the abyss of despair, into the darkness of depression, but then no one understood this, then it was taken for grief - but it was not just grief about the lost beloved, it was grief about herself, mortal longing for her life that had been cut short, because all that now remains for her is not life already, but existence, without love and hope, without a dream, without a future, an existence permeated with memories of the past, of her dead husband ... Almost all her poems this period are full of longing for him:

How clean we are
How fun we lived with you!
Passion pounded on the whiskey
Like an eternal surf ...
Couldn't do anything
Hide from each other.
Tearing apart the everyday
Gray thread
We hit
Into reliable chains of roses
Stormy quarrels
Reconciliation
And happy tears.

Nikolai Starshinov writes: “… after Kapler's death, having lost his guardianship, she, in my opinion, was at a loss; she had a considerable economy: a large apartment, a summer residence, a car, a garage - all this had to be monitored, constantly making efforts to maintain order and the condition of the property. And she did not know how to do this, she was not used to it. Well, it was already very difficult to break oneself at that age, or rather impossible. In general, she did not fit into the coming pragmatic time, she became old-fashioned with her own romantic character ... ”.

She really was the last romantic of the outgoing era. She was still triumphant in the great Victory in the great war, in which her own merit was, - when everyone else already felt defeat. The defeat of the system itself, the defeat of all the ideas in which they believed, by which they lived ... However, many, as it turned out, did not believe at all, but simply pretended. And the realization of this - someone else's falsity and their own naivety - was especially painful. For a while, Drunina still lived by inertia, wrote by inertia ... And then Perestroika burst out and her life went downhill.

Drunina was also very lonely. The daughter got married and lived with her family. With Kapler's friends, she was unable to maintain a relationship. There is only one friend left - Violetta, the widow of the poet Sergei Orlov. The melancholy worsened and soon Drunina's main dream became - rather to unite with her husband in eternity, to lie with him in the same grave and not see the nightmare that was happening around! Perestroika was precisely a nightmare, the collapse of all that was sacred, everything that she believed in and for what she lived.

And yet I believe
What to me
You suddenly come
In a dying half-sleep, -
That the heart will calm down
By you,
Your gray-haired blue
What's a common home
Our grave will become
In which I
I buried you ...

Now she was alone, all alone. She believed that black and white had suddenly changed places. So she was on the wrong side? ...

But how is that? And all the others were also on the wrong side ?!

And this could not be, because they fought and died for the highest truth!

"Our cause is just - we will win."

And they won.

But now she suddenly began to envy those who died with faith in their righteousness and with the hope of victory - those who did not live to see Victory:

How I envy the one
Who disappeared in the war!
Who believed, believed until the end
Into the "beloved father"!
That soldier was happy ...
Living broken hearts
They won't knock for long.

Her own heart was broken.

She struggled for a while. There was a period when Drunina was actively involved in social activities, in 1990 she was even elected a deputy of the Supreme Soviet of Russia - still of the Gorbachev convocation.

Nikolai Starshinov recalls: “Knowing well her dislike and even disgust for all kinds of meetings and conferences, I was surprised that she agreed to be nominated for election.<…>... I even asked her - why?

- The only thing that prompted me to do this was the desire to protect our army, the interests and rights of participants in the Great Patriotic War and the wars in Afghanistan ”.

It really hurt her to see veterans begging in underground passages, choking in lines for food on discount coupons. And crippled boys who can't even get comfortable dentures. Perhaps she even hoped to achieve something if she fought properly ... But soon she despaired and left the deputy corps. She said: “I have nothing to do there, there is only a talking shop. I was naive and thought that I could somehow help our army, which is now in such a difficult situation ... I tried and understood: everything is in vain! Wall. You won't get through! "

She greeted the events of August 21, 1991 with enthusiasm - "and eternal battle, we can only dream of peace!" - it was again something from her youth, some kind of echo of that romance, and for a moment she felt herself in this life, felt a glimmer of hope ... But then the euphoria faded away. And the hope faded. What could she hope for, an elderly person, if everything she lived was in vain? If now some Russians openly regretted that in that war they did not surrender to the Germans immediately in 1941! If in general everything around is so scary - "Insanely scary for Russia", she wrote, for "... there is almost a century a tower on rivers of blood, a sea of \u200b\u200blies ...".

She loved to go to the dacha alone. To sit, wrapped in a warm kerchief, to look through the cold glass at the garden - wet, crumbling, chilly. She felt how her life was leaving, along with these falling leaves. Many acquaintances believed that she conceived suicide at least a year in advance ... Not only conceived, but also thought through all the little things. Most likely, it was so, because back in 1991, in an article in the Pravda newspaper on September 15, she wrote: “It's hard! Sometimes the lines of Boris Slutsky even come to my mind: "And the one who cannot bear it anymore, the party committee permits suicide to the weak ...". However, for her suicide, she did not ask permission from any party committee - she was already disappointed in all party committees. Perhaps Julia thought that the last courageous act that she can commit to maintain her dignity - her own and her generation - is her suicide.

No one left alive in the soul
places -
I was, like everyone else, blind.
But still it is necessary on the past -
Cross,
Otherwise, we are all lost.
Otherwise everyone will be plagued by melancholy
How black was blowing at the temple.
But even to the worst enemy
I will not wish this:
And I can't put up a cross,
And I cannot live with longing ...

Julia Drunina signed her own sentence. But before carrying it out, she had to finish her business. And my main business was to finish the collection, which was being prepared for release: it was called “The Hour of Judgment” and was dedicated to Kapler, and one of the sections was completely occupied by her poems - to him, his letters and notes - to her ... When the collection was finished, Julia Vladimirovna left for the dacha, where on November 20, 1991, Drunina wrote letters to her daughter, son-in-law, granddaughter, friend Violetta, the editor of her new manuscript, to the police, to the Writers' Union. I didn't blame anyone for anything. At the front door of the dacha, where in the garage she was poisoned by the exhaust gases of the car, taking sleeping pills, she left a note for her son-in-law: “Andryusha, do not be afraid. Call the police and open the garage. " She thought over and considered everything, every little thing. So, most likely, I thought about suicide for a long time and in detail.

In her suicide letter, she tried to explain the reasons for her decision: “Why am I leaving? In my opinion, it is only possible for such an imperfect creature as me to remain in this terrible, squabbled world, created for businessmen with iron elbows, for such an imperfect creature as I am only having a strong personal rear ... forests and the need to create ... It is better to leave physically undisturbed, mentally unaged, of your own free will. True, the thought of the sin of suicide torments me, although, alas, I am not a believer. But if God exists, he will understand me ... ”.

Therefore I choose death.
How Russia flies downhill,
I can't, I don't want to watch!

Her main desire - to be buried in the same grave with Alexei Kapler - came true.

Crimean astronomers Julia and Nikolai Chernykh named one of the distant planets of the Galaxy by the name of Julia Drunina. And this became the best monument to Julia Drunina: the light of a distant star, light that pierces time and distance, an unquenchable light ...

Eternal memory to her.

Ved. "And our girl in a marching overcoat ..."

Ved. These lines by Mikhail Svetlov can serve as an epigraph to all the works of Yulia Vladimirovna Drunina.

Teacher. “All my life I've been at the forefront,

And I would like to die on it ... ”- wrote Julia Drunina. These lines express her poetic rule. The poetess had incredible creativity. For almost fifty years, she has been creating bright poems imbued with warmth and tenderness. Drunina always honestly and directly assessed what was happening. Her poems have always been life-affirming. Now we want to acquaint you with the poems and life of Yulia Vladimirovna Drunina.

I left my childhood in a dirty warm room,
To the infantry echelon, to the sanitary platoon.
Distant breaks listened and did not listen
Accustomed to everything forty-first year.
I came from school to dugouts damp
From the Beautiful Lady to "mother" and "crush",
Because the name is closer than “Russia”,
I couldn't find it.

Ved. On May 10, 1924, a daughter, Julia, was born to the history teacher Vladimir Drunin and his wife Matilda Borisovna. Place of birth - Moscow. Julia's mother was born in Warsaw. In addition to Russian, she spoke Polish and German. I even taught German at school. She was an inconsistent person and their relationship with her daughter was extremely uneven. And Julia adored her father. He was for her a model of justice, reason and decency. He was a school director, taught history.

Ved. In 1931 Yulia Drunina entered school №131 in Moscow. She attends a literary studio located in the building of the Theater for the Young Spectator. Participated in the competition for the best poem. Her poem was published in the Uchitelskaya Gazeta and broadcast on the radio.

Oh, childhood! As usual, I wanted
Be on par with the boys in everything.
But dad and mom didn't appreciate courage:
“After all, you’re a girl!” They told me–
Break your head sitting on the roof.
Take knitting and sit down at the table. "
And I climbed off the roof hating
Her feminine, weak, her fair sex.
Oh, childhood! We got it with you -
Mother's reproaches, father's silence ...
But the wind of battle scorched our faces,
The wind of the front has scorched our hearts.
"After all, you are a girl!" - they kept repeating at home,
When I said in a dashing year,
That, answering the call of the district committee,
I'm going to the front as a private soldier.
Tell me memory, wasn't it yesterday
I went to the smoky edge of the trenches
With the boys from our yard?
On that bitter but memorable summer
Nobody told me about my weakness ...
Thank you, Motherland, for this happiness -
Be equal to your sons in battle!

Ved. In 1941, Yulia Drunina, against the will of her parents, volunteered for the front. She was seventeen years old. She went to the front at the most difficult time and in the most uncomfortable branch of the army - the infantry.

No, this is not merit, but luck -
Become a girl a soldier in the war.
If my life had turned out differently,
How ashamed I would have been on Victory Day!
We, girls, were not greeted with delight.
We were driven home by a hoarse military commissar.
So it was in 1941. And medals
And other regalia - then ...
I look back into the smoky distance:
No, not merit in that ominous year
And the schoolgirls considered the highest honor
An opportunity to die for your people.

Ved. Until the end of World War II, Yulia Drunina was a medical instructor.

At the ladies' ball in the old days,
Slightly wrong legs gave way,
Beautifully sprawled on the floor
Spouse and friend and others are in anxiety.
Carefully carried to the sofa
And rubbing whiskey, and waving fans ...
An artillery hurricane thunders
The battalion commander was killed, and every third was wounded.
Sister would have fainted in time
And even for a moment, but escape from hell.
But front-line Cinderella again
Creeps to where the shells "rule the show"
Where blood is poured, not wine,
Where she is destined to stay forever ...

Ved. The girls at the front endured what even men could not sometimes bear. But they, young girls, really wanted to be happy. Julia Drunina met her first great feeling, her first love at the front.

Into my trench, through the mine breaks
Love wandered into an uninvited guest
I did not know that you can be happy
On the smoky shores of Stalingrad!

Ved. When we read Drunina's poems about front-line love, we get the impression that it was a rocket that flared up.

We stood at the Moscow river,
The warm wind rustled like a dress.
For some reason, suddenly from under the arm,
You looked at me strangely -
So sometimes they look at strangers.
- Well, which of you is a soldier?
How were you, really, in the war?
Did you really sleep in the snow
Attaching a machine gun in their heads?
I can't imagine you
In worn-out soldiers' boots! ..
I remembered another evening:
Mortars hit, snow fell.
And told me softly dear
A person like you:
- Here we lie and freeze in the snow,
As if they did not live in cities ...
I can't imagine you
In high-heeled shoes ...

Ved. In 1943-1944, Yulia Drunina fought in Belarus and Latvia, where fierce battles with the Nazis were fought. She was badly wounded twice. A nineteen-year-old Moscow schoolgirl, a girl from a teacher's family, suffering in a hospital with a severe wound from pain and insomnia, wrote a poem that entered not only the anthology, but also the people's memory:

I've only seen hand-to-hand combat once
Once - in reality. And a thousand - in a dream.
- Who says that war is not scary,
He knows nothing about the war.

Ved. Drunina was awarded the Medal For Courage and the Order of the Red Banner.

Ved. On November 21, 1944, after a severe concussion, the medical instructor Drunina was discharged. And in December of the same, 1944. She came to the Literary Institute, which, as she said, she took by storm. I just came and sat in the classroom.

Ved. May 1945 came, which brought the long-awaited Victory!

Yes, a lot in our hearts will die
But much will remain incorrupt:
I will not forget the forty-fifth year,
Hungry, happy, post-war ...

Ved. A peaceful life began. But for a long time, the warrior girls experienced confusion and fear, they were embarrassed by their hands burnt with gunpowder.

Reader.

Returning from the front in the forty-fifth,
I was ashamed of worn out boots
And your overcoat is crumpled,
Dusted with the dust of all roads
Now it is already incomprehensible to me
Why tormented me so
Powder stains on hands
Yes, traces of iron and fire.

Ved. In 1946, Drunina's first book, In a Soldier's Overcoat, was published, and in March 1947 she became a member of the USSR Writers' Union.

Ved. In 1954, Yulia Vladimirovna married the talented and famous screenwriter Alexei Kapler in those years, who became her support and support for many happy years of their joint path. Mark Sobol once said to Drunina: "He pulled off your soldier's boots and changed them into crystal shoes." She, laughing, confirmed it.

I love you wicked, in the excitement of work,
On days when you are far from the wicked world
On days when you throw companies in the offensive,
Battalions, regiments and divisions of rows.
I love you kind, on a festive evening,
The ringleader, the soul of the table, the toastmaster.
You are so cheerful and generous, so childishly careless,
As if he had never fraternized with trouble.

Ved. Julia Drunina held high positions. Over the years she was a member of the editorial boards of the Znamya and Literaturnaya Gazeta magazines, the Secretary of the Writers' Union of Russia. Drunin is the author of eight collections of poetry and two two-volume books. In 1975 the poetess was awarded the State Prize of the RSFSR for the book “There is no unhappy love”.

Ved. Through the decades, the poetess sacredly kept the memory of the war, of soldier's friendship, tested in battles, carried through her whole life loyalty to the Motherland.

Oh, Russia, a country with a difficult fate,
I have you, Russia, like a heart, one.
I will tell a friend and an enemy -
I can't live without you, as without a heart.
It blows somewhere native and ancient
From the vastness of my land.
Villages float in the snowy sea
Like distant ships.
Walking along the narrow path,
I repeat (how many times)
- It's good that with the Russian soul
And she was born on Russian soil!
I don't know where I studied tenderness, -
Don't ask me about this.
Soldiers' graves grow in the steppe,
My youth walks in an overcoat.
Charred pipes in my eyes.
Fires are blazing in Russia.
And again unkissed lips
The wounded boy took a bite.
Not!
You and I did not recognize the suffering from the reports of the Great Retreat.
Self-propelled guns rushed into the fire again,
I jumped on the armor on the go.
And in the evening over the mass grave
I stood with my head down ...
I don't know where I studied tenderness,
- Perhaps on the front road ...

Ved. The theme of war, love for the Motherland, patriotism runs through the entire work of the poetess. Whatever Drunina writes about, she invariably returns to the memories of front-line youth. When Yulia Vladimirovna was asked twenty years after the war: "What makes you return to the topic of war again and again?" - she answered: "The memory of the heart."

Oh how happy we were when
Deceiving yourself for years
They marched to the front in marching companies!
Are there many of us left alive? ..
A tenth grader of the sixties,
Can you hear the hoarse battalions
Tiredly repeat: “Step wider!” -
Do you hear pood steps? ..
Boots tread more slowly.
How hard it is for thin children's legs in them,
How hard it is for the frontline girls in them!
Do you know how much the boots weigh?
Do you hear our rough footsteps? ..
Remember your older sisters more often!

Ved. Her poems are a chronicle of events. Chronicle, the epigraph to which could be just one word ... "Russia". Russia, the only thing for which it was worth living and loving.

I confess that I have not been able to save my overcoat-
On the coat they changed my servant.
It was a difficult time. Besides they wanted
We'd rather forget about the war.

I have worn out my overcoat long ago.
I gave my daughter a star from the cap.
But if you need a heart, Russia,
You take it. As in the forty-first year!

Poetess

I've only seen hand-to-hand combat once

Once - in reality and a thousand - in a dream.

Who says

that the war is not scary,

He knows nothing about the war.

It was these lines that brought her the greatest fame.

Julia Drunina was born on May 10, 1924 in the family of history teacher Vladimir Drunin and his wife Matilda.

As a schoolgirl, she attended a literary studio, read a lot - “from Lydia Charskaya to Homer's Odyssey. She wrote poetry ... ". At the end of the 30s, she became the winner in the competition for the best poem. It was published in Uchitelskaya Gazeta and broadcast on the radio. The turning point in the life of Julia was 1941 - the end of school and the beginning of the Great Patriotic War.

At the age of seventeen, Julia worked on the construction of defensive structures in the people's militia near Mozhaisk, and later enrolled in a voluntary sanitary squad at the ROKK (Regional Society of the Red Cross), became a nurse in an eye hospital, and then, against the will of her parents, became a sanitary instructor in an infantry regiment.

Coming out of the encirclement with the remnants of the army, Yulia returned to Moscow, and her family moved further from the front - to Siberia, but Yulia returned to the front and ended up in the infantry, on the front line. “Trimmed like a boy, I looked like everyone else,” she recalls much later. And her poems about the war will be outwardly simple and restrained, but behind every word an abyss of feelings opens.

They kissed.
Cried
And they sang.
We went with hostility.
And right on the run
Girl in a darned overcoat
She scattered her hands in the snow ...

After being seriously wounded in 1943, when a splinter passed two millimeters from the carotid artery, Julia returned to the front again. She becomes a cadet of the School of Junior Aviation Specialists (SHMAS), after graduating from which she receives a referral to an assault regiment in the Far East. Having received a message about her father's death, she went to the funeral after being dismissed, but from there she did not return to her regiment, but went to Moscow, where in the Main Directorate of the Air Force, she received a certificate that she had lagged behind the train, and went to the western front. In Gomel, Julia Drunina received a referral to the 218th Infantry Division.

She was awarded the Medal of Courage and the Order of the Red Star - this was a fair recognition of her merits.

She was injured again. After recovering, she unsuccessfully tried to enter the Literary Institute. She returned to the self-propelled artillery regiment, received the rank of "petty officer of the medical service", fought in the Belarusian Polesie, then in the Baltic states. She was shell-shocked, and on November 21, 1944, she was declared unfit for military service.

While the Soviet Army continued to liberate cities from the Nazis, Yulia again came to the Literary Institute in December 1944, and in the middle of the school year began to attend lectures. “And I never doubted that I would be a writer. I could not be shaken by any serious arguments or the ridicule of my father, who is trying to save his daughter from severe disappointments. He knew that only a few made their way to Parnassus ... "

At the Literary Institute, Julia meets her future husband Nikolai Starshinov.

Returning from the front in the forty-fifth,
I was ashamed of worn out boots
And your overcoat is crumpled,
Dusty dust of all roads.

“We met at the end of 1944 at the Literary Institute. A. M. Gorky. After the lectures, I went to see her off. She, a newly demobilized battalion medical instructor, wore soldier's tarpaulin boots, a shabby tunic and an overcoat. She had nothing else.

We were second year students when our daughter Lena was born. They huddled in a small room, in a shared apartment, lived extremely poorly, from hand to mouth.

In everyday life, Julia, like many poetesses, was rather disorganized. She did not like to be engaged in the economy. I didn't go to the editorial offices, I didn't even know where many of them were, and who was in charge of poetry in them. Only sometimes, when I heard that I or one of the students was going to go to some magazine, I asked: "Bring in my poems at the same time ..."

Once I accompanied her (we still met) and we went to her house. She ran to the kitchen and soon brought me a bowl of soup. The soup was very salty and had an unusual dark gray color. Small pieces of potatoes floated at the bottom of the plate. I swallowed it with great pleasure. Only fifteen years later, when we divorced and went to a restaurant after the trial to wash this procedure, she admitted that it was not soup at all, but water in which her mother cooked potatoes "in uniforms." And Yulia, not knowing this, thought it was mushroom soup.

I asked:

- What did you not immediately tell me about this?

- I was ashamed, and I thought that if you find out this, our relationship might deteriorate.

It's funny, naive, but also touching ... "

At the beginning of 1945, a collection of poems by Yulia Drunina was published in the Znamya magazine, and in 1948, a collection of poems “In a soldier's overcoat”. In March 1947, Drunina took part in the 1st All-Union Meeting of Young Writers, was admitted to the Writers' Union, which supported her financially and made it possible to continue her creative activity. Julia Drunina graduated from the Institute only in 1952, missing several years due to the birth of her daughter Elena. She did not write poetry at that time.

Throughout her work, Drunina will be attributed to the military generation. For all her charm and beauty (Yulia Drunina was compared to Lyubov Orlova), she had an uncompromising and tough character.

I sometimes feel connected
Between those who are alive
And who was taken away by the war ...

In 1955, the collection "A Conversation with the Heart" was published, in 1958 - "Wind from the Front", in 1960 - "Contemporaries", and in the same year her marriage to Nikolai Starshinov broke up. In 1963, a new collection of her poems "Anxiety" was published. In 1967 she traveled to Germany, West Berlin. During a trip to Germany she was asked: "How did you manage to maintain tenderness and femininity after participating in such a brutal war?" She replied: "For us, the whole point of the war against fascism is precisely in protecting this femininity, calm motherhood, the well-being of children, peace for a new person."

In the 1970s, new collections of her poems were published: "In two dimensions", "I come from childhood", "Trench star", "There is no unhappy love" and others. In 1980 - "Indian Summer", in 1983 - "The Sun - for the Summer." Among the few prose works of Drunina - the story "Aliska" (1973), the autobiographical story "From those heights ..." (1979), journalism.

Now they don't die of love.
A mocking, sober era ...
Only hemoglobin in the blood falls,
Only for no reason a person feels bad ...

Now don't die of love
Only the heart is doing something at night
But don't call the ambulance, mom,
Doctors will shrug their shoulders helplessly:
Now they don't die of love.

On the verses of Julia Drunina, Alexandra Pakhmutova wrote the songs "Marching cavalry" and "You are near."

Her second husband was film director, screenwriter, actor and TV presenter Alexei Yakovlevich Kapler.

Eldar Ryazanov said in an interview:

“I had my own accounts with Kapler, he never once invited me to his“ Kinopanorama ”, although I had made good films by that time. At the premiere of "The Irony of Fate", when the whole audience was laughing, sighing, crying, Kapler and Drunina got up in the middle of the film and left. So I didn’t like him, I didn’t like Drunina, who was one of the leaders of the Writers' Union and sat on the presidiums. But for me, when I learned the story of their life, it became essential to make a picture of love. It was the story of Romeo and Juliet, already elderly, but absolutely beautiful ...

They met on screenwriting courses at the Union of Cinematographers in 1954 - Drunina was 30, and Kapler was 50. And in 1960 she parted ways with Nikolai Starshinov, having been married for fifteen years. They parted, having managed, despite everything, to remain friends. "

But still

I am not happier

Although it may be

I'll hang myself tomorrow ...

I never

Did not veto

For luck,

Despair

Sadness.

I no matter what

Didn't veto

I never scream in pain.

While I live - I fight.

I am not happier

Blow me out

They cannot, like a candle.

In the presence of Drunina, few dared to cast a shadow over the sacred memory of the past with impunity. When, in the late 1980s, war veterans and military personnel began to experience an unfair attitude towards themselves from the state, Drunina tried to defend the honor and dignity of military personnel, and in 1990 she ran for and was elected to the Supreme Soviet of the USSR. Later, disappointed in the usefulness of this activity and realizing that she would not be able to do anything significant, she stopped attending meetings and left the deputy corps.

And where does the strength suddenly come from
At the hour when the soul is black and black? ..
If I were not the daughter of Russia,
I would have dropped my hands long ago
Lowered her hands at 41.
Do you remember? Defensive ditches
Like exposed nerves
Laughed about Moscow.
Funerals, wounds, ashes ...
Memory, don't tear my soul with war!
I just don't know the clearer time
And sharper to the Motherland of love.
Only love gave people strength
In the midst of a roaring fire
If I didn't believe in Russia,
Then she would not believe in me.

* * *

Army laws are close to me
I brought from the war for a reason
Field crumpled shoulder straps
With the letter "T" - the distinction of the foreman.
I was sharp at the front
Like a soldier, she walked ahead,
Where you need a thin chisel,
She acted with a rough ax.
I have broken a lot of wood,
But I do not admit one fault:
I never betrayed my friends -
She learned loyalty in battle.

For Drunina, the collapse of the whole universe turned out to be a terrible shock, under the rubble of which the ideals of her entire generation were buried.

In August 1991, Yulia Drunina, along with other Russians, defended the White House. And three months later she passed away voluntarily.

L. Grach recalls:

“She, like many in those days, could not come to terms with what was happening. She opened an exhaust pipe in her garage, where she had a "Muscovite" and suffocated. They found her suicide note, where she asked to be buried next to her husband, the famous playwright Alexei Kapler, by the way, from Kiev by birth. At one time, Drunina and Kapler rested in Koktebel and walked 25 kilometers to the Old Crimea. This is probably why Drunina buried him at the Starokrymskoye cemetery. "

She left a suicide note to her son-in-law: “Andryusha, don't be afraid. Call the police and open the garage. "

She left about ten letters to relatives and acquaintances, blamed no one for them and committed suicide on November 21, 1991.

“… Why am I leaving? In my opinion, such an imperfect creature like me can only stay in this horrible, quarreled world, created for businessmen with iron elbows, for such an imperfect creature as I have a strong personal rear ... "Create". It is better to leave physically not destroyed, mentally not aged, of your own free will. True, the thought of the sin of suicide torments me, although, alas, I am not a believer. But if God exists, he will understand me. 20.11.91 "

From the poem "The Hour of Judgment":

The heart is covered with frost -
It's very cold at the hour of judgment ...
And you have eyes like a monk -
I have never met such eyes.

I'm leaving, I have no strength.
Only from afar
(All baptized!)
I will pray
For people like you -
For the elect
Hold Rus over the precipice.

But I am afraid that you are powerless.
Therefore I choose death.
How Russia flies downhill,
I can't, I don't want to watch.

From the memoirs of Nikolai Starshinov:

“Our daughter Lena and I were repeatedly asked about the reason that caused her voluntary departure from life. There is no one-word answer to this question. There are many reasons ...

She did not want to part with her youth. It is naive, but she was categorically against congratulations on her anniversary to appear in the press, since the age was indicated there. At least for a year, she tried to postpone the year of her birth. Moreover, she did not want her granddaughter to call her grandmother. And she wanted to leave this life, not old and helpless, but still healthy, strong and young beautiful.

She was an extraordinary person and could not compromise with circumstances that were unacceptable to her nature and stronger than her. And she could not come to terms with them.

She began one of the last poems like this: "Insanely scary for Russia ..."

She, like a grievance, experienced constant attacks on our army. And immediately entered into furious arguments, protecting her.

Knowing well her dislike and even disgust for all kinds of meetings and conferences, I was surprised that she agreed to be nominated for her candidacy at the elections to the Supreme Soviet of the USSR. I even asked her: why?

- The only thing that prompted me to do this was the desire to protect our army, the interests and rights of the participants in the Great Patriotic War.

When she realized that nothing significant could be done for this, she stopped attending meetings of the Supreme Soviet, and then left the deputy corps ...

One of the letters written before leaving this life speaks best of her state of mind: “... Why am I leaving? In my opinion, it is possible for such an imperfect creature like me to remain in this terrible, quarreled, created for businessmen with iron elbows, only having a strong personal rear ... "

I know that Aleksey Yakovlevich Kapler (the second husband of Drunina) treated Yulia very touchingly - he replaced her mother, nanny, and father. He took over all the household chores. But after Kapler's death, having lost his custody, she, in my opinion, was at a loss. She had a considerable economy: a large apartment, a dacha, a car, a garage - all this had to be monitored, to maintain order. And she did not know how to do this, she was not used to it. Well, it was already very difficult to break oneself at that age, or rather impossible.

In general, she did not fit into the coming pragmatic time, she became old-fashioned with her own romantic character. "

The text was prepared based on the materials:

Site materials Wikipedia

Materials of the site www .drunina.ouc.ru

Article by Tatyana Pantyukhova "Connected"

Memories of Yulia Drunina's ex-husband Nikolai Starshinov

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Biography, life story of Yulia Vladimirovna Drunina

Family, school years

Julia Vladimirovna Drunina was born on the 10th of May in 1924 in the city of Moscow. Her father - Drunin Vladimir Pavlovich - worked as a history teacher, her mother was a music teacher and librarian, her name was Matilda Borisovna. The family lived in a communal apartment in the center of Moscow. Julia began writing poetry at the age of 11, she studied in a literary studio. For the first time her school poems were published in the Teachers' newspaper in the 30s.

War, front

At the end of 1941, Drunina was sent to work on the construction of defensive fortifications and was surrounded. In the war, surrounded by her, she met her first love. It was the battalion commander who soon died. A small group got out of the encirclement, Drunina was again in Moscow and was evacuated to the city of Zavodouralsk along with her father's school. The father suffered a stroke before the evacuation, so she looked after him. Drunina's father died from a second stroke in 1942.

She found her document on the completion of nursing courses and went to the front in the active units of the Belorussian Front. Julia was seriously injured in 1943, became disabled and was discharged. Then she returned to Moscow and tried to enter the Literary Institute there, but she was not accepted. Then she returned to the front again and fought in the Pskov region and the Baltic states. In 1944, she was shell-shocked and declared unfit for service. She was awarded the title of Chief of the Medical Service and was awarded the Medal For Courage and the Order of the Red Star.

Literary Institute, years of creativity

No one dared to expel her from the Literary Institute, she came to the institute and began to attend classes in the first year without permission. Drunina met at the institute with the poet Nikolai Konstantinovich Starshinov, they soon got married. In 1946, a daughter, Elena, was born into the family. They lived very poorly, Julia did not write poetry, she temporarily left the institute. She graduated from the institute only in 1952. In 1947, Julia Drunina was admitted to the Writers' Union, and collections of her poems began to appear. The first collection of poems about the war was printed in 1941. Collections of poetry one after another came out after 1948, when the book "In a soldier's greatcoat" was published. Front-line youth became the main theme of her work.

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Personal life, acquaintance with Kapler

In 1960, the first Drunina family broke up. When she was admitted to the Writers' Union, she began to live financially well and got the opportunity to create. She was beautiful and very charming, she was courted by many writers and poets. She rejected the claims. She began to travel abroad, was in Germany (in the Federal Republic of Germany). Collections continued to appear in the 50s, 60s, and 1970s. Several prose works of an autobiographical nature, journalism were published. In 1954, Drunina studied at the screenwriting courses at the Union of Cinematographers. She met on the course with Alexei Yakovlevich Kapler, a famous film screenwriter. Love broke out between them. For six years Drunina fought with her feelings, remained faithful to her husband. In 1960, she still left her husband for Kapler, taking her daughter. During this time, Kapler also divorced his wife. The happy marriage lasted 19 years. Drunina dedicated a huge number of poems to her love for Kapler. The family was destroyed by the death of Alexei Yakovlevich in 1979, which Drunina did not survive, it was an irreparable loss. The reason for Drunina's suicide in 1991, as they say, was this loss and also the collapse of social ideals, the collapse of the USSR.

Social work

Julia Drunina accepted perestroika in the late 1980s with great hopes. She was elected to the Supreme Soviet of the USSR. Julia also spoke a lot in the press with anxiety about the collapse of moral values \u200b\u200band ideals. She defended the interests and rights of participants in the war of both the Great Patriotic War and participants in the war in Afghanistan. Drunina left the deputy corps, realizing that she could not do anything.

Suicide

Yulia Drunina did not like the world of businessmen "with iron elbows", she did not find the strength to fight this new world. She explained her suicide in one of her letters that people who were stronger than her, who had a "strong personal rear" were needed to fight. Drunina could not part with her youth for a long time, did not want to be a grandmother and did not allow her granddaughter to call her grandmother. They say that she wanted to stay young and beautiful. It is also rumored that before she committed suicide, she was in love with a married man, a lawyer, a deputy, her name was not called. She closed the exhaust pipe in her garage and suffocated to death on the 20th of November 1991. In her dying poem, she remembered that she was baptized, Orthodox. It also hinted at Drunina's beloved with eyes "like a monk." They also say that she could not cope with the large household and everyday life that Kapler provided: a large apartment, a summer house, a garage, a car. She could not do this and turned out to be very old-fashioned, but she could not and could not live differently. In her poem "The Hour of Judgment" she prayed for those who should "keep Russia over the cliff."

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