May 10, 1924
Yulia Drunina, a poet who survived the war, was born in Moscow.
I only once saw hand-to-hand, Once in reality. And a thousand in a dream. Who says that the war is not scary, He knows nothing about the war
She became a famous poet while still in school: her poems were published in newspapers and broadcast on the radio. They were dedicated to love, prince charming, and exotic destinations.
Everything changed after the war began.
To join a volunteer medical squad, 16-year-old Drunina added an extra year to her age. As the Germans approached Moscow, she and the hospital staff went to build defensive fortifications near Mozhaisk. During an air raid, she became separated from her unit and was surrounded. It took her 13 days to reach her comrades.
We came to the front straight from childhood. My poems immediately, like the wind, blew away the gypsies, the cowboys, the pampas with stripes, and the beautiful ladies.
She served as a medical orderly. In 1943, she was seriously wounded: a shell fragment entered her neck and lodged 2 mm from her carotid artery. This was discovered only a few days later, when Drunina became ill; previously, she had simply wrapped her neck in bandages and continued to help the wounded.
In 1944 she was shell-shocked and declared unfit for military service.
On a stretcher, near the barn, On the edge of a recaptured village, The nurse whispers, dying: - Guys, I haven't lived yet.
Returning to Moscow, she began attending the Literary Institute. The poems she published immediately became popular: their touching lines felt relatable to anyone who had lived through the war.
To my trench through the mine gaps Love came as an uninvited guest. I didn't know that it was possible to become happy. On the smoky shores of Stalingrad
She was married twice and had a daughter. During perestroika, she was elected to the Supreme Soviet, defending the rights of war veterans, including those in Afghanistan. During the State Emergency Committee, she stood at the barricades outside the White House.
She committed suicide in November 1991, unable to survive the collapse of social ideals and the disintegration of the country.
I'm leaving, I have no strength. Only from afar (Still, baptized!) I’ll pray For people like you, for the chosen ones Keep Rus' above the cliff
